#hoping to make a series of the companions w it

[elfsidian]

A friendly chat with Harding in her room in the Lighthouse

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 2]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD oh and angst hehe]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

[tags: @luujjvi @c-lunette @mokisano @ghostdoodlen @wildfire153 @anonymousewrites @bewitchedbymadness @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @22carolina08 @original-person]

[remember if you want to keep in touch with a particular series I write, let me know in comments or messages you want to be tagged! you will only be tagged once unless specified that you want to be tagged till the end of a particular series!]

(also once again, apologies if alastor’s last name isn’t actually altruist qwq it’ll stick till the end of this fic but I’ll try not to mention it as much)

For the first time in years, you feared being in heaven.

Not that you felt unsafe, just that you felt incredibly uncomfortable seeing your serial killer dad who's now a demon be invited to be in the place where light and goodness is it's main foundation.. even reassuring yourself that it was temporary didn't calm you down when you were flying away from him. For your own sake you even avoided where the welcoming was happening.

Ahh but.. it also didn't help that he was following you around after the show without you knowing.

After the angels had performed their song to welcome in the princess of hell, her apparent partner, and-- him.. everyone sort of went their separate ways and the visitors from below started to relax in their new yet temporary places of stay. You felt a bit of relief when you assumed Alastor would also be setting himself in to relax as well.

During heaven's performance you decided to take a breather at a local coffee shop, one where you thankfully always had a spot there where you could hide away from the huge windows of the cafe.

Although right after that, unbeknownst to you at the time, Alastor was looking for you, but obviously pretended as if he was looking for a good bite to eat.. unfortunately for him he had to behave and he couldn't eat a living walking thing until after they came back home.

Oh how bummed out he was.

You were in a far corner inside the shop, as mentioned before anyone that was able to look in through the windows wouldn't be able to see you since you were out of view. Drinking your favorite beverage that the shop offered and eating a filling snack to relax your body and mind. Safe to say you were now more in touch with your feelings and weren't overly panicked as you once were.

'Why is he here.. is he an advisor to the princess? a companion?.. some kind of servant?.. she's really young though, perhaps she's ward to him or something.. but she has her.. dad.. and I'm sure he must be alive still.. ' You thought, different theories and ideas passing by in and out your head trying to make sense of the situation.

'perhaps.. he's here to see me?..' you hoped, then scolded yourself right after,

'nono.. I can't be wanting that.. sure he raised you but he's a monster. he killed you, _____. get a grip..' you sighed deeply while massaging your temples in frustration 'even if he seemed to not.. have meant to do that. he tried to kill someone else anyway, that poor man could've died instead of you.' you tried to reason with yourself, coming to a single conclusion in the end.

Eyes glued to your drink. staring at it with intensity.

"I regret nothing." you claimed to yourself in a low mumble, not enough for anyone close to hear.

Ahh.. but you did miss him very much.. the version of him that you grew up with at least.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in your warm and humble home with your father. It was a fairly cold night with rain dropping onto the roof of your home yet the warmth of the house seemed to make the cold seem almost cozy to you.

Your small footsteps could be heard running around the house, as your little seven year old self ran around you seemed to be giggling uncontrollably with a peculiar circular item in your hand.

"No running in the house _____, remember what I told you." Alastor exclaimed in slight irritation as he could hear you from afar while he was cleaning up the table from the dinner you two just had, he started slightly missing the times when you didn't know how to walk and when you simply just blabbered baby nonsense.. he definitely doesn't miss the sleepless nights of baby crying though.

You huffed and puffed as you then plopped the item on the sofa, it was a disk, a record. You then climbed yourself up and once your little body landed on the cushions you then picked yourself up once more to then grab the disk and turn to the small table right beside the sofa where a large phonograph rested on.

"Papa!" you exclaimed, "Papa! Music music!.." you pleaded, your little voice begging to once again turn on the music playing machine.

Alastor faintly chuckled at your little demands, amusing how such a small thing dares to command but nonetheless he found it silly at how you tried. "Yes yes my dear, I'll be right there." He then set the last few dirty dishes away to be cleaned soon since he couldn't say no to listening to some tunes before bed.

You smiled brightly as your little feet playfully tapped on the cushions, almost jumping. Noticing your developing excitement Alastor hurried over to you.

"Ah-ah-ahh, no jumping on the sofa my dear. I'm excited as well but I can't have you break your little head open, that'd be no fun at all!" Well.. that and he didn't wanna ruin his cushions, but nonetheless he cared for your wellbeing the most even if he wasn't fond of admitting it.

His hands gently took the disk from your hands, carefully setting the disk on the phonograph to have it play your favorite tunes. Once you two heard the amazing first few notes of jazz was when Alastor settled down beside you on the sofa and you started clapping in delight.

Alastor looked at you almost fondly, letting out a small huff of delight at your reactions. Your innocence seemed to be something that contained him from wanting to continue his murder spree, although his bloodlust always wins in the end, he seems to always willingly pause his life for you.

Plus, he loves jazz just as much as you do.. why would he miss out on this?

Your fit of giggles dwindled down but didn't stop, in a sudden burst of energy you jumped off the sofa and then started dancing similarly yet obviously a bit more goofy to how you've seen couples and single dancers dance in the nights of Mardi Gras or just parties your father took you when he would be invited. Your little dance moves seemed to be fiddled with confidence yet they were so off from what you were trying to attempt, nonetheless you were happy, and that's what Alastor secretly liked to see.

"Dance with me papa dance with me!" you pleaded again, your smaller hands grabbing his larger one and tugging at it, trying to get him to stand up.

"_____ darling no tugging, besides I just sat down my dear and I'm exhausted." He sighed, his constant smile always present yet he was visibly a bit tired from the day he had.

But oh how you persisted, and how darn adorable you were as a kid. "But papaaa!.. pretty please! I wanna dance how you and that singing lady did the last time we went on those big loud places!"

"Parties, dear." he corrected you, but let out a long sigh and got up. Because no matter how tired he was or how annoyed he seemed to be he didn't mind keeping you happy.

So that's what he did, he danced with you. Swinging you, twirling you around to the melody and the beat, your cheers of glee and uncontrollable laughter motived him to keep up with your excitement. Not only that but your smile, genuine and pure, it was what he needed to get himself to match your energy. Jazz music was what always connected you two and it always brought you together no matter what.

At the end of the song Alastor ended it by gently throwing you up in the air and catching you, letting you get your last giggles out. You both laughed together, your bond ever growing stronger. You truly did tame this bloodthirsty killer without even trying or knowing, of course you were too young to know.

Once the giggle frenzy ended you both finished your dancing with a long sigh, the phonograph ending it's segment. You then suddenly yawned and rested your head in the crook of his neck over his shoulder, snuggling for warmth and for a sudden need to sleep.

"Seems like my little fawn needs sleep now, almost past your bedtime young lady." Normally he'd scold you a bit more strictly as he usually did, but seeing as how you were basically ready to fall into a pile of dreams he just felt no need to do that.

"Sorries papa.. I forgot.." your little words muffled by your face hidden in his neck.

Alastor was never one for being touched, let alone hugged or snuggled. Oh but he had no right to complain, he's had you this close since you were a baby.. to him this just felt normal now.

Of course no one but you could be this close to him, you're his little girl after all.

"No need to worry, my dear." He stopped in front of your bedroom, carefully opening the door with a creak following after. With careful footsteps he walked towards your bed, pulling the blanket away to then gently place you on your cozy sheets with care.

Alastor gently moved any misplaced hairs away from your face as he then pulled your soft and warm blanket up to your neck. Your sleeping face reassuring him.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart." His usual smile softening a bit more before backing away and slowly heading towards the door of your room, lingering for a few extra seconds to take one last look at you before slowly closing the door and heading off to bed himself.

After the click of the door closing can be heard, you mumbled "Goodnight papa.." with a smile, even if in the end Alastor didn't get to hear it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You missed him, dearly.

A weight fell on your chest, your eyes begging to form tears. You missed when you had that childhood innocence, when you didn't know what he was capable of, when he was nothing but a saint to you.

It still hurt after all these years, you thought he was a good man.. a bit strict, blunt, a bit too true to himself and definitely peculiar but.. the Alastor that raised you would never do that. Until you were obviously proven otherwise.

Oh but I guess you were too into your reminiscing that you didn't notice the background gasps and small shrieks of surprise and fear, and you didn't yet feel the eventual stares and eerie presence right in front of you.

"What don't you regret, my dear?"

You choked on your drink in surprise almost spitting it out,

that fucking radio voice again.

For heaven's sake how did he find you?? He couldn't have seen you through the windows. Did he follow you??.. did you just not notice.. Oh geez maybe getting used to having your guard down during all your years in heaven definitely didn't help with this situation.

You continued coughing on your drink, even punching your chest a bit to get that last good cough out. The radio demon pulled the chair in front of you to sit across from you, not waiting to ask permission.

To him he didn't need to, he's your father after all.

Once you calmed down you immediately avoided eye contact, only giving him a once second glance to confirm it was him in hopes your ears were playing a trick on you-- they weren't.

"How.. how'd you find me.." you mumbled in slight fear.

"Oh how would I not! Sweetheart I'm your father of course, as your father I must have those parental instincts.. I always know where you are!" he exclaimed, seemingly proud of this.

"I'm guessing those 'parental instincts' didn't kick in when you stabbed me, huh." you spat with attitude, unafraid to be rude to him with so much sin he's committed.

A sharp static sound came from him, as if in slight shock at the disrespect and comeback you gave. "Watch the attitude young lady, you're still an Altruist you know."

You scoffed, hating at how indifferent you felt about your last name.

"Not by blood though.."

"I raised you, don't forget that." he spat back, starting to get irritated.

"And because of that I owe you?"

"Yes, yes indeed! Smart girl you are."

You scoffed at his response, finally getting the guts to look at him in the face. His appearance frightened you, disgusted you even.

Is this truly the man that raised you?

"As a matter of fact, I actually don't." you crossed your arms in annoyance and a huff. Your eyes couldn't help but to slowly drift to off to the people behind him and you see fellow angels you know continue to stare in awe or fear, of course at Alastor. With all eyes on you and mostly him it made you feel a little embarrassed. You cowered down a bit and your wings went over your head and shoulders a bit as if to hide you behind a 'curtain' of sorts.

Alastor obviously noticed this, but could care less about the stares.

You sighed, "Look, Alasto--"

"I think you mean to call me 'father'." he interrupted as he obviously seemed a bit sassy about it. "Even 'dad' is just simply fine and dandy with me!"

"No, I can't," you frowned, wishing you could "I won't. Not after what you did to me, to that man that night, and to every other poor soul you hurt."

Your face slowly scrunched up in disgust "You don't deserve my forgiveness, my mercy."

In embarrassment and feeling tears want to shed you grabbed your drink and got up to walk out, before you could get past Alastor though he grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Uh-- hey.. let go--"

"I didn't mean to do what I did, my dove." His voice turned into a weird version of gentle, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "I never intended to take your life away."

He sounded genuine.

Could he?.. Would he?..

Maybe, just maybe--

"No." you spat, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you definitely meant to hurt others. That's something I can't forgive and I'm sure your victims wouldn't neither." you glared at him, setting your foot down. "I refuse to call you my father, not until I know that you repent for your sins but knowing you I highly doubt that." You snatched your wrist away and for a slight second you stopped caring about what others thought when they'd see this "Besides, you killed me two weeks after I turned eighteen.. don't even include the years that passed since the 30s and present time so clearly you can't control me anymore old man."

But Alastor wouldn't go down that fast nor easily.

His sharp smile widened, you felt immense dread.

"Oh little one, no matter how far you are or how much you try to disown me you are forever connected to me. I made you who you are and you can try to run and fly off however long you want but in the end you're tied to me whether you like it or not. Even in death."

He seemed deathly serious with his statements so much so that you could've sworn you could see his shadow giggling and smirking in a way that seemed even worse and more than evil.

Your breath quietly hitched in fear in noticing this to the point where it even forced you to take a step back. He let out a sinister chuckle before you couldn't help but speed out of the shop and flew out.

You couldn't handle him, he was shameless when showing this side of him.. how could he be this shameless and normal?? How could he act like this and be proud about it? He killed people and doesn't regret it, you being the only exception just didn't feel right and it wasn't fair!

Not to you.

He may have been able to silently control you and vaguely manipulate you to believe he was anything but a bad person back when you were alive and young but now your eyes are wide open and so is your heart.

You have such a bad feeling about this whole thing, he was up to no good he just couldn't be-- he had to be using the princess as an excuse to do something shitty.

Good thing you had plenty of connections, if you just played your cards right...

Hey.. wasn't there something about a court meeting happening soon?

On the other hand Alastor stayed sitting there still chucking devilishly, his intentions and true feelings smeared and unclear.

With a snap of his fingers a cup of black coffee appeared and he began drinking it with a sense of casual glee and eyes closed in delight. Until he felt eyes on him, two nearby to be exact. He opened one eye to look at the angels staring at him and they both seemed like more biblically accurate angels, both having one eye and all. The radio demon shot them an evil grin.

"Oh adolescents these days, rebellious aren't they." He cackled before going back to drinking his coffee, the angels creeped out by his interaction soon scurried away from him.

The fear. He enjoyed it, just not really from you.

(thank you all who asked for part 2!! of course I had to deliver since you all really wanted it and honestly I love adding flashbacks to memories Alastor and the reader had when they were alive, makes their ending on earth just that more painful (as if it wasn't clear I love angst). Honestly I don't mind making more parts for this! If the demand is consistent and you guys still want to keep up with it I have a few ideas to keep this going! Once again thank you so much for reading!! Now I must finish writing for other stories lolllll!)

(p.s: i highly recommend listening to any mitski song while reading this I think it fits well especially with the flashback scene hehe)

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #5: CADMIUM COLORS

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Once again, welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, I wrote a whole diatribe about my OCs while talking about I Wish That I Could Fall, and today, we're eating paint! Cadmium Colors featuring Soneji of Project Mikan!

Consider this a content warning: this post will discuss the pandemic, struggles with mental health, and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm hoping it'll ultimately be uplifting, but the discussions at hand are incredibly heavy, and it wouldn't do this song right to be vague. Please be warned.

---

Let's talk about COVID.

At the beginning of 2020, I was in the midst of a long-term break from making music. It wasn't completely cold turkey, and I might not have even called it a break if you'd asked me at the time, but things were dire. I was still dealing with the burnout I'd sustained from the making of Autumn Every Day; I'd had my ego bruised by a live performance at a house party that went so hilariously bad it'd hurt even the most stoic performers (imagine watching an entire packed room of people clear out in 5 minutes flat from the already hyper-exposed vantage point of being on stage in front of them and knowing you single-handedly caused that lol); I had just moved across the country, and was preoccupied with trying to make ends meet as a 22 year old dealing with pure adulthood for the first time.

I was working a shitty minimum wage job at a discount clothing store I will not be naming, slogging through late-night shifts that wouldn't get me home until 3 am some nights. I had friends and roommates, but they were all just as overworked and exhausted and dealing with their own shit as me. I was mentally ill and unmedicated. Suicidal ideation was rearing its ugly head at my lowest moments.

Then, as I turned 23, a global pandemic shut the world down, my grandpa died with me being unable to attend his funeral, and I had a catastrophic mental breakdown that suddenly turned the voices in my head into a deafening cacophony of self-inflicted malice.

In hindsight, I think being 23 kinda just does that to you

---

Fast forward to 2021. I was back at my retail job with the pandemic raging in full force, my sense of self was held together with duct tape, positive self-talk essentially didn't exist for me, and I was the loneliest and lowest I had ever been. I was working the fewest hours I could get away with, and still, almost all spare time I had was taken up either by work or by my recovery from it.

This was around the time I got an email from Crypton, of all places - the people that make Hatsune Miku, for anyone uninformed. They wanted a remix of the song Happy Synthesizer for a Digital Stars compilation. I could not for the life of me tell you how I lucked into this or why they reached out to me of all people, but they did, and I was deathly determined to prove myself worthy of it.

This was August of 2021. I was staring down the barrel, languishing in what felt like only half of a life, fantasizing about death and trying to twist my thoughts into something that could at least keep me blearily shuffling forward another couple days. It was untenable.

(I'd also recently been diagnosed with OSDD 1b - this is a whole can of worms I can't really open until we talk about Breeze Blows, but it's important to at least mention that coping with this was a significant part of this turnaround.)

It's melodramatic, but I had only two options - make things again, or die.

I finished that remix within 24 hours of getting the stems, and I will gladly toot my own horn about it - it's really fucking good, in my opinion. Bittersweet ended up coming together in a mad dash over the next couple months as well. I was making music again.

Even though I was exponentially busier, things paradoxically got easier. I made the creative process a priority in my life, and not only did it give me an outlet for everything that had otherwise been eating away at my soul, but it struck a chord with other people who had been struggling as well. Things just... started getting brighter.

So I kept making music and living and yadda yadda blah blah here I am. This is all a lot of words and very personal stories of mental health struggles to say this:

One: The line between being an artist and being one of countless people forced to work jobs that go nowhere, that put their life at risk, that force them to strip parts of themselves away - it is a faint and transparent line built on circumstances of class and privilege and luck. Making Art and being an Artist aren't magical elevated states of existence, but something anyone is capable of if given the space to nurture their creativity. I believe the world should be a place where any person can do this.

Two: It's easy to convince yourself that art is meaningless in the face of the world at large. And yes, revolutions aren't fought by poetry and paintings, and people aren't fed through songs. But art is a source and a medium for connection; Art is how we find beauty in a disorganized and entropic world; Art is what we come home to and what words we write and pictures we paint and songs we sing to remind us that people matter to us and love is real and life is worth fucking living. Maybe that's corny and stupid, but it's true.

Three: So help me God, I will never work retail again in my entire life.

---

This is another song that is heavily inspired by artists like Prefab Sprout, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, and other artists of that ilk - very 80s, very flowery and sentimental lyricism, focused on telling a story. I greatly admire songs that aren't afraid to paint otherwise banal or ordinary scenes in abstract reverence!! I wanted the verses to contrast heavily with each other in that way, with verse one's relentless poeticisms (prosaic practice of depravity) and idioms turned on their head (suspending innocents above their disbelief) against verse two's incredibly straightforward depiction of a factory worker's circumstances.

The flowery language might have worked against me somewhat, though! I've seen a lot of folks that thought the ending was darker or much more defeatist than I intended, and while some of that is just inevitable with a work of art, I want to be clear.

Translator's note: this means "don't kill yourself, you idiot"!!

As you may have picked up from the previous post in this series, this song does heavily feature a leitmotif or two predominantly performed under pudgy pretenses. I'm not going to go on that whole novella-length spiel again, but rest assured knowing that this song, too, is one that makes me think about my OCs. Since it's something many people missed, however, I will take a moment to point out that this song quotes none other than Autumn Every Day off of my album of the same name!

Painting and visual art have been something of a reoccurring obsession of mine in my own art. I grew up around visual artists, have always been friends with many visual artists, and generally have a really intense love of it as a medium and a mode of expression. However, there's also always been a sense of... well, I don't want to call it jealousy, but it's jealousy. I've tried many times to start making visual art of my own, and I have made some things, but it's been a struggle, and I worry sometimes that my eye has permanently outstripped my ability.

However, in my quest to toss out grand expectations and simply have fun making art, I did recently pick up a cheap little drawing tablet! I'm excited to be a beginner at something artistic again...

Finally, I want to thank a couple people: Soneji of Project Mikan for the gorgeous, soaring saxophone solo; friend_xp for the mindboggling MV editing; and especially my good friend Que for the GORGEOUS painterly art that goes along with this song! Que's style was just perfect for this, and really tied the whole thing together immaculately!! There's no joke or deeper lore or anything I just fucking love Que's art go follow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And with that, I think this post is complete!! If you have anything else you wanna know about, ask away in the replies! Tomorrow will be Breeze Blows with Marcy Nabors and Marlow Jacobs!!!

MAKE ART AND BE GAY

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: a lil workplace visit can’t be that bad, right?

warnings: cussing, links to pinterest. a lil short, sorry!

saint’s team radio 🎀: hiiiii there. thank you for all the love on virgo’s groove, i truly love each and everyone of you! hope you enjoy this, babies!

pls like, comment and reblog!

dividers from @cafekitsune

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series masterlist 🪩

Lewis had missed his wife, terribly so.

Often being reminded by most, that his companion was not next to him as much as she was the last two weeks. He never tired talking about her in any sense and to anyone who would listen. By now, she would’ve spoken about her students or a joke that her friends used to tell as she attended university many years ago. Possibly a song she was thinking about or a candy she tried from the hotel in Miami.

He had missed the bright smile she often displayed at anyone who was open to receiving it or whenever she spoke of her new friends. Lewis had realised she had quite the loud laugh, contradicting her quiet voice, and how she would laugh at his jokes, a quiet wheeze at first then a boisterous laugh following right after. He had also missed how she would slip into one of her many home languages whenever she spoke and how she would derail the conversation to explain every little thing in that specific language.

Surprisingly so, he liked seeing that she was spending his money, even after trying to convince her that it was totally okay. Lewis also liked how she would send little updates on her day just as he did as well, talking about how she’s constantly stopped in the streets for pictures and how shocked she always was that people recognised her.

He also liked the rambles she had whenever they got the chance to facetime. Making her blush at his words was always a sight to see and how she would try do it back but her giggles held her back.

Lewis missed Nadia. A lot.

Sitting in his hotel room in Barcelona, he stared at the suitcases that were waiting right by the door. He checked his carry on once again to check that the little gifts he got her were okay. The specific hoodie he was wearing still had faint scents of her perfume, making Lewis feel giddy to get home. Months ago, he would’ve always said that the world is his home but ever since he met Nadia, he could feel his smile get larger as his thoughts go on.

Managing to get a podium, just as he promised her, he remembered her excitement and astonishment when he explained how many he actually had. She went on to tell him that she’ll make celebratory baked goods for whenever he gets back. Lewis knew that he was distracted when he attended a dinner with some friends after the race, his phone couldn’t be separated from his hands. All that was on his mind was seeing her.

-

“I know we initially removed the second question from the assignment but the board brought it forward that it needs to be done.” As soon as Nadia finished her sentence, her year 12 students groaned loudly.

“It didn’t make sense to me either but because you’re my kiddies, I’ll research when I get home and just get a memo so you don’t have to worry. Even if you all write the same thing, it’s okay.” She assured, walking to her desk after handing out the ‘new’ assignment papers.

“Uh, Ms Brown. You said this can be typed out, right?” A hand that was raised asked. Before the teacher could answer, someone interjected.

“It’s Mrs Hamilton, Tash.” That made a few students laugh. Nadia would never get used to hearing herself being referred to that. Every time she even woke up in that house, it was unbelievable.

With a little chuckle, she put her pen down. “Thank you, Kim. But yes, it needs to be typed out and don’t forget to make a cover, everyone.” Picking up her pen once again, Nadia went on to work on the question that troubled the whole class.

Silence fell and all that was heard was faint music coming from some kid’s headphones as they worked on their assignment or their homework, Nadia never had an issue if they needed to complete other tasks from their other classes.

Glancing at the clock on her desk, there were at least two hours of school left but luckily, she only had a few classes that day and was able to go home early. An empty large mansion but it was home. Craving the vanilla macrons she made yesterday, Nadia was more than excited to get home.

It was also the day that she expected her husband back home from Spain. Mondays usually went slower than the usual but she pushed her excitement to the back of her head as she continued to work. There was still some time left with her favourite class so she relaxed in her seat.

Nadia’s phone kept buzzing with text messages as she typed away on her laptop, sending an apologetic look to the students who’s heads whipped at the distracting sounds. Picking it up, all she saw was messages from Maggie, the school office admin, sending through messages that basically implied that she was shaking, she was excited and constantly repeated ‘girllllll’.

The class was now interested in whatever was going on because Nadia’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There was nothing she was aware of unless the principal wanted to talk to her about something but that was even more confusing.

A knock echoed through the classroom and she gave the student closest to the door a signal to open it and he froze at the door, seemingly starstruck. All the kids then leaned outside their desks to see and they began screaming in excitement at whoever was at the door. The figure walked in the door and Nadia’s stomach dropped at the sight.

“Oh my days, Lewis Hamilton is in my class!”

-

After eventually calming down the class who were still shocked and buzzing at the fact that Lewis was there, he offered to take pictures with everyone and even brought them doughnuts that he had left outside the class in hopes to surprise them. He locked eyes with his wife and made his way to her, signalling to the kids that he’d be right back to take pictures.

Nadia threw her arms around his waist as soon as Lewis was close enough, he kissed through her wig then her forehead, completely aware that the kids were watching and recording. “I don’t wanna get fired, Lew.” Nadia spoke, facing away from her students.

“I had a word with the principal, you’re good.” He reassured, patting her back. Winking at her as he went back to the excited kids, she felt the butterflies in her stomach. She also realised how spontaneous he was because he really just showed up to her work like he forgot who he was.

Getting home was a bit of a challenge, the rest of the school caught wind of his appearance and that was a mission in itself. To Nadia’s luck, school was still in session and she could get home early with her husband by her side. The deal was that Lewis would come speak to the kids one day in exchange for his spontaneity.

Climbing out of the Range Rover that she drove herself to school in, Lewis held her hand to the front door where his suitcases were waiting to be let in. It felt all so domestic like they’ve done this a thousand times before, taking off their shoes right by the door and she immediately slipped into her slides. The home smelt like a mixture of her sweet perfume, cookies and the ocean scented incense she bought for the house.

“Welcome home!” Nads turned around after dropping all her things on the kitchen island to throw her arms around his neck for the physical touch they had been waiting for. They melted into the hug, faces digging into each other’s necks, engulfing each other with their warmth. The two stood there for what seemed like an eternity before letting go eventually. “That felt good, wow.” Lewis said, his eyes taking in every part of her face.

He had missed her so much.

“Right? It felt like a month apart. How are you feeling? Spain was something else.” Nadia smiled, still unable to look at him in his eyes. Before he could answer, he knew he couldn’t just outright say anything to her yet. Lewis couldn’t tell her that he’s falling for her so quickly, so much so that he wanted to shout it out to the world. He did that already, the world just doesn’t know that all of this isn’t real.

“I’ve been alright, just wanted to come back home and relax. Getting that podium though,” Lewis breathed out. “Please, you made it look flawless.” Nadia interrupted, with a ‘duh’ expression on her face. He couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that.

She walked further into the kitchen and he followed after her like a puppy, waiting for her to do anything. “I made you vegan vanilla macrons for your podium and my non-vegan ones are in a different lunch box.” Nadia tapped the lunch box labelled ‘vegan’ with her freshly done nails then placed it on the kitchen counter.

“Ohh shit, I forgot I got you something else as well!”

Nadia ran up towards the stairs, spewing out the words as Lewis watched her with a smile on his face, leaning his head on his hand. Deciding to make himself comfortable in the living room, he waited for her.

Quick steps of her sandals echoing throughout the main floor, she came through with a medium sized box in hand, a proud smile on her face as she plopped herself right next to him on the couch. “So. You know how I said that I love sourcing for archives in fashion or the latest pieces that are just tough to find?” Nadia started.

“Yeah…..” Lewis responded with a slight lift of his eyebrow.

“This is a gift I want to give to you since you did so good in Spain but I got it like days before the podium so I had to pray that you did good.” She added, unable to contain her smile as she handed the box to him. Sitting down quite close to each other, she watched as Lewis carefully ripped the gift wrap.

He was smiling before he fully opened his gift. “I can feel you just jumping’ in excitement.” Lewis said, his natural accent and voice coming into light. The same voice he used to when he felt right at home.

Eventually putting all the gift wrap to the side, he faced the box in curiosity, opening it and being prepared to see anything. “You’re joking.” Lewis said in shock, staring at Nadia who’s smile was brighter than the sun itself. “It was tough finding these but I do hope you like them, Lew.” She responded.

“These were made-“ “By Virgil, yep. I knew that you guys had a good friendship so when I came across these, they reminded me of you guys.” She informed and giggled at Lewis constantly looking back and forth at the shoes. The Nike x Louis Vuitton air force one was apart of a collection released in honour of Virgil Abloh, Lewis’ friend and Nadia’s inspiration in the fashion world.

Lewis couldn’t contain himself and stood up abruptly, pulling Nadia with him to wrap his arms around her and give her an even warmer hug. A bit shocked, Nadia quickly recovered and returned the same energy towards him. “Thank you, Nads, truly. Not just for the shoes but just…everything.”

“Anytime, pookie bear.” Nadia moved her head to look directly into his eyes, focusing on every crevice of her face. Looking down at her neck, he caught a glimpse of shining silver jewellery sitting pretty on her neck, only used to seeing gold pieces only.

“Is that 44 on your necklace?” He pointed it out, looking back and forth between her face and her jewellery. “Oh! Yeah, I wanted it to match my ring. The world is getting familiar with this face, might as well add to it.” Nadia said with a smug smile and Lewis had to collect himself but he realised he was right home.

Adding a little chuckle, he lowered his large hands from the middle of her back to her ass then her thighs, getting a yell out of her when she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Wanna get the neighbour familiar with you?” Lewis smirked, licking his lips at the same time.

“Let’s get right to it, Sir.” She responded, giggling as he started rushing to the bedroom, holding onto her tightly as they went up the stairs.

-

lewishamilton

lewishamilton a week filled with love and joy. canada, here we come ~

tagged: @/nadiahamilton

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nadiahamilton i look too good 🤭

lewishamilton you always do

nadiahamilton omg STAWWP 🥹

user dawg this is so unfair, you don’t get it

fencer my best friends 🥹

liked by lewishamilton

user mother and father

kehlani sleep with one eye open, mister

lewishamilton it’s sir

kehlani i’m still taking your wife, leprechaun 🫵🏽

user seeing you two in Canada!!

user this man is too gone, bridgerton level simp

user well duh, if you were with Nadia, you’d be too

lewishamilton this is true, she hung up the moon and the stars

user OOOOHHHHHH LEWISSSSSS 🙂‍↕️

chunks your home is so beautiful, thanks champ 🫡

user lewis is friends with the beta squad????

user they’re nadia’s friends

louisvuitton hope you loved your gift! 🤍

lewishamilton it was gifted by Nads so it was the best 🫶🏽

user you guys are so cute, it HURTS

canadagrandprix thee it couple

mercedesamgf1 has more stories about Nadia than the Spanish gp, we have to respect it

badgalriri got a problem? 🤨

user they got Riri clocking they asses 😭😭😭

nadiahamilton

nadiahamilton i’m the cooler one

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tyla you’re the coolest of them all 😝

nadiahamilton love you always!!

nellarose_ that french vanilla cake you made? signing you up for masterchef rn!

nadiahamilton girl pls 😭

user you guys remember when the wags called her tinkerbell? she literally is tinkerbell in real life 😭

user and she smells like money and sweet flowers ‼️

nataliatheedon come back to America rn

nadiahamilton canada’s the best i can do 😣

user i feel like a certain canadian rapper is gonna show up lol

user i’m from toronto and there’s a rumour that lewis’ people are blocking off that rapper from getting near nadia because he keeps reposting her pics lollllll

user no ways lewis actually has shooters???

user he’s Lewis, what did you expect? 😭

zendaya mother graced us with her presence once again

nadiahamilton love you Z 😚

louisvuitton 🤍🤍

sza hand in marriage?

lilymhe omg hiii, let’s redo monaco?

lewishamilton hi sweetheart

nadiahamilton hi my love

user PARENTS

saint’s notes 🪩: heyyyy babies! this is one is quite short lol but i hope you enjoyed! love u all 😚 also noticed the colour schemes for their insta posts? 🫡

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[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before ��� with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[crheativity]

Can we get a part three of This with riddle and Ruggie?? Thank you! 💜 it's fine if you can't do it btw!

SUMMARY: Someone's picked a fight with Prefect! But he isn't going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Not on his watch. Part 3! Part 1 w/ Cater and Azul can be found here, and part 2 w/ Vil and Silver can be found here.

WARNING: Riddle calls someone a coward. Also the words idiot and jerk are in his part. People get hurt in Ruggie’s part but it isn’t really gory or anything

COMMENTS: I’m so sorry this took so long, my hands have been in a lot of pain the past couple months and are only starting to get better 🥲 I hope you enjoy it! Ruggie and Riddle were super good ideas for this prompt, this was so much fun to write! Thank you for the request! Also, if anyone has any ideas for more characters they’d like for this series, feel free to send in a request!

It must be raining.

You were just out in a storm. That’s all.

That would explain the crack of thunder that collided with your face and gave you a throbbing headache. The warm liquid blurring your vision and dripping out of your mouth and nose was just the rain, not some unholy mix of blood and tears. The chills that froze you where you stood was just humidity and the cold, not adrenaline and raw fear.

And yet, even with your desperate brain trying to come up with some reasonable explanation, the only thunderstorm you could see in front of you was a student you couldn’t recognise. Not with your head pounding like this. Not with the thunder in your ears.

There was something about the boy that scared you. That wasn’t uncommon - this school was full of terrifyingly promising mages. But the scariest thing wasn’t how he wielded his magical pen with deadly accuracy, or how strong he so evidently was.

It was just how much he seemed to be enjoying the mix of horror and pain, of blood and tears, that must have been so evidently and delicately splashed across your face.

His smile twisted as he raised his pen again, something in those cruel eyes of his setting off alarm signals in your aching head.

“This’ll teach you not to meddle where you don’t belong.”

The pen glowed, pure magic surrounding it as he prepared to shoot. His sadistic eyes were alight with entertainment. He knew what he was about to do. He didn’t care.

You squeeze your eyes shut and braced for the lightning.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!”

Your eyes snapped open just in time to see the lightning, arcing gracefully yet violently through the air.

Aiming straight for your assailant’s neck.

“What the- hey! Get this thing off of me!” The boy snapped, tugging at the heart shaped collar that had just appeared around his neck.

“I most certainly will not!”

Spinning around, you saw two boys making their way towards you. One was tall with short green hair, glasses, and a familiar symbol - a club - painted just below his left eye. He looked worried, his gaze flicking from you, to your assailant, to his companion and back again.

The second boy made your heart skip a beat.

His small frame shook with rage. His face, twisted with anger, had become as red as his hair. He marched straight past you, heading towards your assailant, his magical pen gripped tightly in his hand.

Uh oh.

The moment Riddle Rosehearts decides to get involved, heads roll.

“How dare you?!” He yelled. “Using magic in a fight is a clear violation of the rules! Did you think you could just shamelessly flaunt your rule-breaking and expect me not to see it?! And attacking the magic-less prefect of all people! If you really must break the rules, at least fight someone on an equal footing as you, coward!”

The courtyard was dead silent as Riddle verbally ripped into the student, chewing him out for several rule violations and other discourtesies.

“But the prefect started it-!” Your assailant protested.

“I don’t know what history you and the prefect may have, but in this instance you attacked without provocation and without warning!” Riddle huffed. “And don’t try to lie to me. I saw the whole thing.”

The boy visibly deflated. There was no getting out of this for him.

“I want to see your student ID. Now.” Riddle ordered.

The boy sighed, pulled his ID out of his bag and handed it to Riddle.

“Ah, Pomefiore, hm? Be thankful you’re not in Heartslabyul,” he snapped, handing the ID back to the student. “Although,” he added, “Vil Schoenheit is certainly not the most lenient of housewardens. He will deal with you appropriately.”

You felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Looking up, you realised Trey Clover had stopped next to you.

He gave you a small, strained smile. “Are you alright, Prefect?”

Riddle glanced back over at you, a little startled. It appeared he had forgotten you were here.

“I’m alright… I think.” You managed, sending both the dormleader and vice-dormleader a smile.

Riddle’s face somehow got even redder and he looked away. You would’ve thought it almost funny if the world hadn’t started spinning. You quickly grabbed Trey’s arm to steady yourself.

“Maybe not.” You added.

Trey reached over to support you. “Riddle, you know more first aid than I do. I’ll take him to Pomefiore and explain the situation to Vil, but maybe you should take care of the Prefect or something?”

“Very well.” Riddle made his way over to you, reaching out to support you. He gently led you over to a bench and pulled out a handkerchief.

“Please pardon me, I’m going to administer first aid to you now.” He spoke stiffly. You nodded dazedly, and then felt a pang of regret as your headache tripled in intensity. You focused on breathing steadily as he cleaned the blood from your face and examined your injuries.

“You’ll have a couple of bruises, but nothing serious, thankfully.” He sighed in relief and instructed you to apply pressure to your nose and angle your head downwards to stem the bleeding.

Slowly but surely, the bleeding stopped. Riddle sat with you quietly the entire time, silently supporting you. You got the impression that he didn’t quite know what to say or do, and just how close you both were wasn’t helping matters. That was alright, though. Just having him here was enough.

“Prefect…” Riddle spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure he’d spoken. He was looking away from you, his face a light pink colour. He seemed embarrassed.

“What’s up?”

Riddle took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “I… apologise for losing my temper back there. And also for not arriving and stopping him sooner. I’m truly sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment, then cracked a smile. “It’s alright. Although it would’ve been nice not to get hurt in the first place, it’s not your fault at all. You aren’t the idiot who tried to hurt me anyway.”

Riddle flinched at your ‘swear’. “Prefect!”

You grinned mischievously. “Wha-at? There’s no rule against calling someone an idiot, is there? Besides, you called him a coward earlier. If I’m going to get in trouble for calling someone an idiot then you should get in trouble for calling someone a coward.”

Riddle smiled and shook his head, his cheeks slightly pink. “Well then, I suppose I’ll have to watch my tongue. As Heartslabyul dorm leader, I simply must set a good example for my dorm members. Which means I must refrain from calling people… jerks.”

You gasped and clapped your hand over your mouth, trying so hard not to burst out laughing. “Riddle!”

His eyes lit up as you said his name. He looked at you so gently, so lovingly as you struggled not to laugh that you felt your face going warm.

Wouldn’t it be nice to stay like this forever….?

A yell of pain shot through the air, wrenching your eyes open in fear. Stumbling backwards, you drank in the scene in front of you before realising in horror what had happened.

Someone had jumped in front of you.

A beastman, to be more specific.

The boy stood protectively in front of you, breathing hard, hackles raised. He had dirty blond hair and an outfit much too big for him. His right hand was gripped tightly around his magical pen, his left was holding his right shoulder. Blood was beginning to fall at his feet.

Wait, blood?

Scanning him again quickly and you saw them: shards of ice crystals stuck out of his shoulder at every angle. Your stomach twisted and you felt the bile rise in the back of your throat.

“Prefect, go!”

“But-“

The boy turned at you and snarled. “Run!”

You stumbled backwards, stunned. A spell - another gift from your assailant - flew by your ear. Scrambling backwards, you cast your eyes around to find a place to hide.

There!

Sprinting over and sliding into the hiding spot, you peaked your head around and watched.

It was brutal.

The boy who saved you - the boy you now recognise as your crush, Ruggie Bucchi - fought viciously, yet his opponent was not the kind to give up easily. For every spell Ruggie had, this boy somehow managed to dodge or deflect almost every single one of them, and fire off a few of his own.

Come on, Ruggie. You thought. Please be okay.

Ripping your gaze from the fight, you pulled a packet of wipes from your bag and forced yourself to clean your wounds. Anything to distract from what was going on.

After all, there was no way you could help. You were magicless after all, so it was probably best to just leave things to those who could fight, right?

…Right?

A yell of pain forced your attention back on the fight. Both boys were now breathing hard, blood strewn across the courtyard. From the looks of things, neither boy could beat the other. Ruggie couldn’t break a hole in his defence and the other boy could barely hit Ruggie, who was sprinting and dodging like his life depended on it.

“Stay still, mutt!” The boy snapped, firing off spell after spell.

Ruggie didn’t even respond. His concentration remained on dodging and finding a weak point, but your assailant didn’t leave him time to cast a spell.

He just needed an opening.

Steeling yourself, you grabbed a rock and snuck around the two of them. You adjusted your grip on the rock.

Please, don’t let this hit anyone. You prayed, then stepped out into the open.

“HEY DIPSTICK, OVER HERE!” You yelled as loud as you could and then hurled the rock in his direction.

The boy whirled around and deflected the rock with magic in an instant. Seeing you, he seized his chance and prepared to fire off another spell. You squeezed your eyes tight and held your hands in front of your face.

“Laugh with me!”

No spell came. Opening your eyes, you saw the boy in front of you, clearly angry. He walked towards you rigidly, as if he was trying to do anything but that. He pulled his student ID out of his bag and handed it to you.

Then he turned around and walked away. Your eyes followed him as he walked a ways off, then stopped.

The boy whirled around, his magical pen aimed directly at you and began to cast-

And then was immediately knocked off his feet from a blast of wind magic.

Someone grabbed your arm. “C’mon Prefect, now’s when we run-“

Ruggie ran hard, tugging you along with him as you dodged through crowds of people, eventually slowing to a stop in front of some empty classrooms.

You gasped for breath and put your hands on your knees, trying to recover from your sprint. Glancing up, you saw Ruggie leaning against the wall, breathing hard.

He looked awful.

His shoulder looked worse, his uniform was singed and he smelled of smoke. He had countless scratches and scrapes. Yet despite all this, he caught your eye and smiled painfully.

“What… whatcha starin’ at, Prefect?” He panted, clearly exhausted.

“Your shoulder…” you managed. His smile fell and he shrugged - then grimaced.

“‘S fine. Don’t need to worry, shishish-“ he cursed and winced.

You walked over to him and looked him over. His face was ever so slightly pink as he looked away. He shook slightly as you tugged off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

Pulling out your packet of wipes, you looked up at him. “This okay?”

He glanced at you briefly, his face still pink, his ears flat against his head. He looked away again. “‘S whatever.” He mumbled.

You gently cleaned up his cuts and scrapes. Looking at his shoulder injury, you sighed. “I can’t do anything about that one. I’m taking you to the nurse’s office.”

“But-“ he protested, but fell silent when you cut him off.

“No buts. That’s serious, Ruggie. I’ll buy you doughnuts if you let me take you.” You added, hoping the bribe would work.

He hesitated, then smiled at you. “Fine. Shishishi, if I didn’t know better, I’d guess you’d care for me or somethin’.”

You simply stared at him.

He went red. “P-prefect-? Got somethin’ you wanna say? Haha…”

“Come on,” you said with a smile and a sigh. “Let’s get you to the infirmary.”

“Okay.”

What a dummy. You thought as you pulled him along. I think I love him.

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[ofmermaidstories]

hiya mermie! i hope you’re doing well 💕💕 for your latest game: 🥸 ✍️

hiiii symmiee. how are you doing?? i feel like i’m slowly losing the last of that dreamy end-of-year seasonal magic but that’s okay. 😔🥹 it just leaves the normal summer magic ig LOL. actually now that i say that aloud, i’m kinda realising how much i associate peak-summer vibes with christmas and NYE… now it’s just kinda like oh yeah. here’s the rest of it, LOL. ANYWAYS let’s play. 🥹

🥸 Does anyone in IRL know you write fanfic or original fiction? If not, do you plan on telling anyone this year?

lmaoooo, everyone knows i write fanfic. i am not embarrassed about it!! if i end up talking to you for more than like, five minutes, then ur gonna learn!! the last random i told was the new bookseller in town—that was a bit of a eh kinda situation tho bc we’d been talking about like, books beforehand, like, kid books and YA and then i launched into my whole theory about adults clinging to YA/trying to make New Adult a thing bc like, they want the finding-yourself-quest vibes that YA has but with like, sex, lmaooo, and then she was telling me about her book that she’s writing (middle aged woman finds a magical companion, quest ensures) and i was like yayay that sounds so fun and then she asked me if i wrote and i was like YEPP self-insert fic baby. 😌 and then she was like oh, and then she was like, for what fandom, and then bc i am a shitstirrer i was like, My Hero Academia 🙂 and then she was like oh. and then she tried to double charge me for the book i was buying LMAOO. that’s actually not funny, bc i had to be like sorry babe you already got me for it, i have the receipt right here. 😔 i think that’s been the first interaction i’ve ever had IRL where someone like, visibly became disinterested as soon as the words “self-insert” happen, but like, i use that term very deliberately whenever i’m talking with another chronically online adult!! it’s a good way of testing the waters etc etc. fanfic is suchhhh a funny topic to talk about IRL tbh, because you either encounter people who like, don’t know what it is, or people who do—and then you get to see how wildly different everyone’s tastes can be. the last time i ended up talking with someone in real life about fic (before this), they were telling me all about the Hazbin Hotel stuff they were reading and i was like ohhh, i know what that is!! and they were like, omg do you read adamsapple too? and i was like nah, but i did see people on twitter whinging about the series being staffed with people who have kinks or w/e? which then devolved into a convo about the local BDSM community that they (the person i was talking to) was apart of and i was like ooooh bc then they were spilling some of the local tea, but anyways my point is that talking about fanfic is fun and i do not shy away from it LOL.

✍🏽 Which stat matters most to you (if at all!): subscriptions, kudos/favourites, comments, bookmarks, word count, or hits?

i am not impressed by numbers as a general rule (maths is for nerds), but i will celebrate if i happen to be on Ao3 and notice a fic hits like, a significant milestone in terms of hits or kudos. it is important to have fun with this stuff. 🎂🥹 saying that i—like most of us here—am incredibly susceptible to the idea of like, comments. being reached out to, really. 🥺🥹 i save every single one that hits my inbox lmao. like a little dragon holding a pile of words xdlkfjskldjfdsj.

[mirandaputsherbestbuttforward]

Anyway, I finished Dragon Age: The Veilguard just over 85 hours for the whole thing (definitely missed some puzzles and a bit of loot here and there), but here are a collection of my thoughts before going to bed.

Spoilers below!

Genuinely, I think it was a solid game. The writing and themes throughout are really potent. I think the dialogue in some places was a little 80s cheesy or a BIT out of place in the DA setting but I definitely laughed at a lot of it.

I think the companions were great, though I found myself not really caring for Lucanis (and I'm not torn up that I accidentally got him killed in the endgame).

Neve, on the other hand, was a sniper shot directly at my forehead; she is carrying out the legacy of the Emotionally Distant Usuallly Hetero BioWare Brunette™ that I have always fallen for, but thankfully not straight this time (bless).

I think the environments were amazing and had so much depth even if the maps were more 'linear' in terms of areas to explore but I loved not having fetch quests. I loved being able to use companion abilities to unlock more parts of the map as we went along.

I do think there was a lot of content - which is good - but it did feel like a bit of a slow go to start.

I felt that the romance wasn't necssarily lacking in terms of BioWare's standard style of romances with casual flirting -> serious flirting -> kiss scene -> romance scene just prior to endgame, BUT because there was so much to do in Act 2, it felt like I wasn't getting anywhere fast and so spacing it out that way felt like there could've been a few more little things in between (e.g. kiss animations like BG3, or something) to hold us over.

In terms of story, I think for the most part it really fit into the series well enough; I don't think the lack of worldstate mattered too much in order to tell the story they wanted to tell with Solas. A few mentioned and call backs are all we would've gotten and I'm okay with that (e.g. like who you picked for Divine or who is ruling Fereldan, etc).

I like that we got to explore more Dwarf lore again, I think this fandom needs to be more into dwarves because holy shit.... the whole reason they can't dream???????? insane.

Also in terms of gameplay, the combat was fun and refreshing, and very mass effect-y and I loved it. I was a warrior and just had fun smashing the shit out of everything. I do wish we had more loot / options to work with (lowkey missed the crafting system in DAI to make our own stuff) but I get why they did it like that.

I loved Rook, and I know that you can't be a super aggressive asshole but tbh this doesn't call for it. They were brought in as someone who could help the team and work together.

As someone on tiktok said, they are friends with fully developed prefrontal cortexes and act like it; DA2 companions are not found family, they are only friends with Hawke and only tolerate each other because of that mutual friendship. Inquisitor is like the manager of a bunch of coworkers.

ANYWAY, I think Rook was a fine protag, and I LOVED the CC aside from a few things like why do some of the more detailed complexions get a 5 o clock shadow embedded into it? No age slider??? no grey hair slider???

Fat slider good but should've had more. Also the boob/ass slider lacking like I get it that it helps keep armours intact but they should've let the sliders go more for better shapes.

All in all, I'm giving it a solid 8.5/10, and well worth the 10 year wait.

I just hope that they get to make a DA5 with that hint they dropped on us in the post-credit scene. I was really hoping for DA Absolution to have a tie in because what the fuck has Meredith Stannard been doing beefing w tevinter to get a circlet to bring someone back from the dead, and what plot point is that gonna be????? but anyway I guess I can hope for a season 2 of DA Absolution next

[jesatria]

Jenna Reads LoD: Gauntlgrym

It's been quite a while since I did one of these posts. A bit of background to this: I actually started reading Legend of Drizzt back in high school, which was, um, 20 years ago. I quickly became very attached to a certain assassin, enjoying him as a character much more than Drizzt. I lost interest in the series after Road of the Patriarch came out, since that was supposed to be Artemis' last appearance. I thought I was done with this series & stopped paying attention to it.

So what got me interested in this series again? Well, part is definitely nostalgia. That, & I learned that Artemis is back.

With all that said, here are my thoughts on Gauntlgrym!

Spoilers Ahead

-Before starting, I did some catching up by reading the wiki summaries of the Hunter's Blades & Transitions books (I just wanted to get to a book w/ Artemis in it, ok?), so I knew going into this that the tone of the series had changed from the lighthearted fantasy adventures of the earlier books. Personally I don't mind this at all. This book could definitely be considered dark fantasy & I do enjoy some dark fantasy.

-Speaking of the darker tone, Drizzt isn't dealing w/ this very well. 2 of the Companions of the Hall are dead & Wulfgar dies during 1 of the time skips. It's been decades since Catti-brie & Regis died & he's still grieving for them. Even though he had to know that he would outlive all of them, it doesn't make it easier for him. There's a strong sense of nostalgic loss throughout this book.

-I like Dahlia. I do enjoy some femme fatale characters from time to time. She's a very messy character, which I appreciate because female characters are often not allowed to be messy & complicated.

-Jarlaxle's still hanging out w/ Athrogate! Tbh I'm not sure how he managed to tolerate him this long. I know the rhymes & puns would've made me snap ages ago. Looks like Jarlaxle's still paling around on the surface, too. I have to assume Kimmuriel's running Bregan d'Aerthe on a permanent basis now.

-I loved the "the heritage, the fate" exchange between Jarlaxle & Drizzt. Super interesting to get some insight into what other drow males think about Drizzt. He's an object of envy & admiration because he was the one who escaped. I've always wondered if there were others who were sympathetic to him in Bregan d'Aerthe. It makes sense, since he's a rogue male who rejected Lolth & got out. & Drizzt is so disconnected from anything relating to Menzo that he has no idea of any of this. I know he goes back to Menzo in some of the later books so I'm hoping this will be explored further.

-Bruenor's death was suitably epic & a fitting end for his character. Going out after defeating a powerful demon, fighting in the ancient dwarven homeland he spent decades trying to find is a pretty awesome way to go.

-Last but certainly not least, Artemis (I know Barrabus=Artemis so I'm just gonna call him Artemis here). Let me elaborate on my love for him by stating he's 1 of my favorite characters of all time. I actually got giddy when I got to his 1st appearance. 18 years since I last read new Artemis content. Once that initial giddiness wore off, ouch. Seeing him enslaved, to a petty rapist asshole no less, really fucking hurts. Like, this really cuts to his deepest darkest fears: the loss of control & independence.

-He knows Drizzt is alive. He's in a position now where he can handle that news & not feel the urge to rush off & challenge him. He isn't even mad about it!

-Interesting that we get to see Artemis doing some unarmed (or lightly armed w/ his belt knife) combat here. I don't think we've really seen that before.

-I really want to know what exactly he's been doing since the end of RotP. Before reading this, I reread that to give myself a little refresher. He goes back to Calimport after the Jartemis breakup scene & we're told here that he was living in Memnon. So it seems he's spent most of his time in Calimshan. He's gone back to working as an assassin in some capacity, considering he has a poison supplier & powerful street families give him expensive gifts. Idk why this is so interesting to me, I've just always found his life in Calimport fascinating.

That's all for this one. I've actually finished the next 2 books & I've got quite a lot of thoughts to share on those!

[simp-ly-writes]

Meet the Doctor pt.5

Pairing: Stardew Valley Harvey x Reader

Summary: It is Wednesday and Harvey is at the bar, little does he know that you have been there since the late afternoon.

Warnings: angst, drinking.

A/N: lightly inspired by the song, sometime around midnight by the airborne toxic event.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Meet the Doctor Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) (pt.7) (pt.8) (pt.9) (pt.10) you are here

It was Wednesday evening and no appointments were scheduled until the weekend. Watering the plants and locking up the door, Harvey and Maru made their way over to the saloon. With the sun setting, the sky's colours reflected off the shop windows and…

The whole town was already inside the bar, Marnie was sitting in the corner, chatting happily by herself with Penny and Clint; the group didn't look to be going so well for Clint kept turning around in his chair to watch Emily work on serving out the everpiling drink orders. While Penny looked like she would rather be anywhere but here with her mom ruining the bank account again. 

Harvey and Maru pushed forward looking for an empty table, eventually finding one at the back across from Willy and Robin who looked to be catching up with one another, smiling while throwing their heads back laughing. Maru caught Emily's attention as she headed to the back and ordered them a bottle of wine to share; Harvey ensured in the process that they would split the bill at the end of the night. 

--

Glass full, face a bit flushed and Maru leaning against his side. She explained her newest inventions and discoveries to the Doctor while smiling at her brightest. Harvey nodded along, not fully understanding the vocabulary she was using yet doing his best to at least act interested on how fungus reacts to different chemical compounds. 

As his eyes travelled away from his work companion and past checking up on Marnie's table, he saw you sitting at the bar. The stereo in the background started to play some melancholy city tune as he watched Elliot come sit beside you.

You looked radiant under the warm bar lights as you smiled at the man, you looked lighter from his attention. It had been a few days since Harvey had last seen you at his clinic, and his mind kept jumping to those moments since then. With a large part of himself hoping that you were doing the same and that he was not in the wrong of having his heart flutter a bit more that day. 

Yet he sits there and watches as Elliot slips an arm around the back of your chair, swirling his wine glass with charm as he brings his own up to his lips. You laugh at his jokes, you look at his face and clothes with great interest as Maru begins to notice the Doctor's attention is no longer paying attention to her, the final bits of her sentence tailing off with a breath. 

It suddenly became too quiet in the bar Harvey thinks, he can hear him flirting with you and yet he can’t do anything about it. You don’t know anything about one another, you had only met a few days ago yet here Harvey was hoping for something he never had to begin with. There was no reason for him to be feeling this way, yet his heart betrayed his head in a moment like this and he couldn't keep his eyes away.

--

The night continued on as Harvey picked back up a conversation with Maru, an act to distract his self-pity of not making a move earlier. You deserved to be happy, to be youthful and carefree, not to be sitting with your Doctor some late afternoon for tea and biscuits. 

He watches Maru, how her eyes become wide while meeting his, how her white dress frames her form nicely and her choice in jewelry is simple yet elegant. She looks like she hadn't just worked for twelve hours straight in the ward and yet there was something about your muddy boots and torn jacket that had Harvey captivated. 

Shaking his head in a hope to clear it from you once more. Maru made a joke while touching his forearm that rested upon the table, he chuckled in response, swirling the wine glass in hand as he watched the liquid flowy fall from the walls of the glass. 

A chair then screeches against the worn hardwood floors, he catches the smell of earthy undertones and he sees you walking out the door in Elliots red jacket, conversation flowing as your horse follows out of sight through the window. His face falling sullen once more, Maru reaches towards his hand, Harvey had not realized she was still latching on to his forearm as she asks him, what's wrong? Harvey replies that it's nothing and asks about the mushrooms once more, Maru excitedly continues on from before as Harvey pours the rest out of the bottle between their glasses. 

--

Night carries into early morning as the streetlamps frame the dirt roads, Harvey is walking Maru back home, her feet wobbling slightly as she flirts absentmindedly with him up to the front door. He ends up carrying the young lady up the stairs and into her room, the Doctor worried about her falling and cracking her head open against the metal railing. 

Maru passes out as soon as she hits the covers, Harvey takes off her shoes and makes sure she has a full glass of water on the bedside as he softly closes the bedroom door and heads back out into the night and back to his small apartment. 

Once entering the silent room, he starts a record as he falls onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling fan as it picks up speed, slightly shaking the ceiling in the process. He tries his best not to think of you and Elliot, back at your place, settling in for the night. You had both met around the same time, yet how did Elliot have the confidence to act so much grander than he did? When would his confidence come? When was the question that followed Harvey around his room, around his head and into his sleep.

To be continued.

Meet the Doctor Series (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4) (pt.5) (pt.6) (pt.7) (pt.8) (pt.9) (pt.10) you are here

[sweet-hearts-and-destiny-knots]

Stumbled on your AU and it sounds SO COOL, the female protags often get sidelined and I really loved reading about them here! :D I was Immediately expecting Hikari to be full of ghosts or a time traveler with the comment about her way of speaking and bearing and it's so cool! ALSO man,,,I love protags being older than base game lets them be,,,,I love to see it

Question about your Hikari specifically; from what I can tell as Akari she is still in Hisui. Will she ever be able to make her way home? Or is it like a concurrent, conflicting timeline thing? I hope this doesn't sound mean dxfcgv I'm just really interested in how they work out in story!

Also if it IS a fall and then return, did she know the other protags prior? Does it change how she interacts with them? REALLY love that Leaf is as nonverbal as Red, that's something I really enjoy about Red that I like to see for her as well! Esp since Leaf Green was the first game I owned (borrowed my cousin's Blue for One [1] car ride but yeah) so I am especially attached to her as the protag. ;w; Green I am sure has no idea how to handle her sincere congratulations because that MAN he is....he sure is. XD

LOVE TO SEE SOME LOVE FOR FEARSOME POKEMON YOU GO KOTONEEEEE so so glad you still have Kris present as well, very attached to her dxfcvgbn

Me handshake Haruka I too want every single pokedoll in existence, what is her favorite pokedoll she has? Is there a story behind it? Has she ever learned how to make her own? Also LOVE to see a sea shantier, heck yeah. Does she have a favorite shanty? Or favorite vibe of shanty I guess dxcfvbghn LOVE that Touka suplexes Boldores, has she always had that strength or did she have to slowly run a gauntlet of suplexing Pokemon until she got there? Did she ever suplex a train- I saw you're a fan of ferriswheelshipping and I enjoy that your Touko and N both share the desire to protect innocents, is it maybe something they bond over?

I feel Mei's clumsiness on a deep level because I swear I run into things every DAY, at least she has someone to keep her from getting hurt too badly. XD I really like that she's both doing Pokemon things and looking for her prince; in a lot of media I feel like one is often sidelined for the other, and it's nice to see what looks like it'll be a healthy mix! Also I have to ask, do her Enamorus attempts end in success or catastrophe? Who has she most famously [or infamously] gotten together?

Love what you've done with Serena as well! Does she ever Rhyhorn race herself?

AND WE LOVE A GHOSTY PRANKSTER as someone who just Absorbs behaviors from those around me I really really enjoy the thought of someone doing that with ghost Pokemon. And love the callback to the hex maniac line heheheheheeee

RIP GLORIA YOU ARE NEVER GONNA RECOVER FROM THAT ONE OH NOOOOOOO but love the use of valiant bcus it's not used enough and it also like. Paints a picture. Like in a crisis, this Gloria would stare it down and do everything to avert it, and I really like that.

I've barely even touched Paldea szdxcfvg so I know nothing about it BUT love a straight A scholar, and I love Juliana's naming scheme too! Does she have any favorite courses? Any specific part of Pokemon research she may enjoy?

ANYWAY THIS GOT. REALLY LONG. I'M SORRY. But I also gotta ask my favorite question for any Pokeoc/Pokeau, which is what is everyone's favorite Pokemon type and why is it Bug type

FEEL FREE to not answer all my rambles sdfxcggvh I know it's a lot, but I really love what I saw on the protags page and I wanted to know more! :D

I agree that the protagonists are prone to being sidelined; it's been a steadily increasing occurrence ever since character customization was introduced to the series. That's actually one of several reasons why I began this blog!

These girls are so very important to me.

Now, to address your Hikari-related question: Hikari, or rather Akari, is determined to return to her time, reunite with her companions (both human and Pokémon), and continue striking terror into the hearts of challengers as Sinnoh's ruthless Champion. But she may tempt a boy into following her home, though...

And yes! Akari has in fact met the other protagonists prior to being sent to the Hisuian era! The narration of the story I'm currently writing even mentions a few of the other girls, showing that she does indeed know them, and well enough to apparently be familiar with some of their various quirks.

All of them meet one another sometime shortly after the events of Black 2 and White 2, at the World Tournament in Driftveil City. It's sort of similar to that scene in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, a collective realization of "You're like me...(!!)"

But about Hikari's/Akari's manner of speech. This is something I'm struggling with somewhat, since I'm afraid that what's written in her character profile may be misleading. I'm aiming to give her an elegant way of speaking, but this is more meant to allude to her not sounding unusual at all when she's swept away to Hisui - which ironically only makes her seem even more suspicious to those like Kamado.

My decision for Leaf to also be mostly nonverbal was partly because it sounded interesting to write, but also because I wanted to try a different approach with a silent character - normally they're depicted as shy or standoffish, but Leaf isn't either. She's as vibrant as can be, and loves to interact with people.

Kotone's team isn't set in stone yet, but aside from Eva, her Typhlosion, she has a Gyarados (Carmen), and I would love to give her a Tyranitar too! All three quite fearsome!

And Kris taking the role of Kotone's friendly rival - I dislike adapting characters out, I want to give a role to everyone, especially the first female protagonist in the series. Even though she's the friendly rival, Kris is intended to be just as tough of a challenge as Silver - she has the starter weak to Kotone's, which is a Chikorita, but she very quickly covers her partner's weakness.

Haruka doesn't exactly play favorites with her Poké Dolls; each is a valuable member of her plushie family! She freaks out if even one is unaccounted for. About her sea shanties, she does have a few she's fond of, like 'Paldean Ladies', and one that you may be familiar with that goes something like,

"O'er across the ocean's tide Rays of sunshine far and wide Wingull they sing of cheerful things, in circles passing by!"

Not a sea shanty, but she also enjoys singing 'Rainbow Connection'.

Touko's strength is tied to her passion to protect the innocent! It all began when she was young - she would beat up anyone that bullied Bianca or her "baby brother" Touya. Her having Pokémon now doesn't really stop her from pummeling people (or trying to), though-

She and N, while they're connected on wanting to protect innocents, throughout the events of Black and White, they constantly butt heads on the best method to do that. Touko also calls him "geek boy" after hearing him speak math one time.

Mei's most notable attempt at playing Enamorus... well, I'm certain if you think about it long enough, you'll figure it out!

Serena enjoys Rhyhorn riding more as a recreational activity rather than something to seriously pursue. It's more like Rhyhorn strolling when she's on the back of one.

Mizuki is meant to be this girl in FireRed and LeafGreen!

Another reason she admires Leaf is because she didn't even so much as flinch when she and her Ghost-type pal pranked her. Her eyes just widened in surprise, no scream as expected!

As for Gloria's past crush, Hop is a good boy and lets sleeping Yamper lie. But her big brother Victor... "But Leon, you CAN'T go! I LOOOOVE you!" And he carries on until she has to slap him-

Juliana doesn't have a favorite class because she loves everything about her academic experience. But Director Clavell is her favorite member of the staff.

Everyone's preferred type? Well, I wouldn't say anybody has one since their teams are relatively balanced. Haruka and Kotone show appreciation for Bug-types, though!

This response has gotten rather lengthy as well, but thank you for showing such interest in Sisterhood!

[voxblade]

You seem to reblog a decent amount of Skyrim from me now so I need you to give me your fav random piece of lore or knowledge or anything about any elder scrolls anything (I fully expect you to just make something up entirely)

Make that pieces, because I can't answer anything short form to save my life and there's a lot I've scrambled together overtime. Uhhh...

- I half-remember reading that apparently the dwarves were SO ATHEIST that when they found proof that gods existed, they went "fuck that" and yeeted themselves out of the continuity and into another dimension or something

- the dragonborn's power is shouts. I understand that they are divine or some shit and taken from an ancient draconic language or w/e but I refuse to believe at least one of those shouts isn't them screaming

"THAT'S MY OPINION"

(Or that at least it isn't a mod)

- there are some dudes called the nords and they collectively are the CEOs of racism. the whole of the nords. All of them.

- you can kill a dragon voiced by super mario himself. given that Italians are inherently evil, killing him appears to be the correct moral choice.

- The jester man you like is a mama's boy and the MILF in question is basically a weird shriveled raisin thing that lives in a coffin. #Hotgirl-goals. He also feeds cats to rats?? According to another mutual??? which as a fan of cats makes me sad, but as an even bigger fan of rats I find oddly cathartic, in a juvenile way. My babies have long been overdue for revenge for the billions of beautiful lives lost to cruel nature and cruel fate. Yes. Reverse the food chain. I hope they eat humans next. (Assuming this is even real.)

- there's some fucking guy you hate named Jason or something who wants to be a big deal but he's an absolutely terrible companion and he dies to fucking everything. He's not even cute in a pathetic meow meow way? Which sounds like me to be honest. Maybe I kin him without realizing. You don't know. I don't know.

- There is a long and arduous side quest not many players know about. In Whiterun, if you leave the Bannered Mare, there's a 1 in 76 chance you will find a strange NPC called Thes waiting by the door. If interacted with, Thes will ask the player a series of strange questions to try to get to know their character. Should the player answer to Thes's liking, he will say "ah. You've also lost the use for truth. This will serve you well". Thes will leave after saying this and the player will unlock the Kindred Spirit quest. It's a bit clunky from this point on, but essentially, you have various markers on your map to track down, each promising something "new", but whenever you get close to them, the positions will move and cannot be found, even through cheats. What the player must do is try for the same rolling chance that summoned Thes in the first place by entering and leaving the Bannered Mare over and over again, except when they succeed the roll this time, Thes will be replaced by a new identical character with a new name, insisting his name is Da. Da will ask the player if they are having any trouble meeting the objectives and the player has the option to call him out. This will learn a laugh ("but they just work! What's the commotion?"), and Da eventually adds a new marker to the map, this one leading towards the Den of Falsehoods (this is commonly confused with the Liar's Retreat). To make a long story short, this is also bullshit but I'm getting tired of summarizing. After a bunch of bullshit, at the end of the quest, Da will be waiting for the player in the core of the den, this time named "Beth". When confronted this time, "Beth" will talk to the player about the nature of truth and falsehood and the player can ask for them to reveal their true name. "Beth" will comply, but only after asking if you would ever love a liar like him. If you say no, "Beth" will nod and say he understands and also will tell the player to be excited for Fallout 76. This is very curious, and possibly reference to Bethesda's other franchise, Fallout, and its entry Fallout 76, which wasn't in development when Skyrim was first released. "Beth" will then leave the game and cannot be found again. If the player says yes, "Beth" thanks them and reveals their true face: a curious npc named Todd Howard. Todd Howard apologizes for his lies but curiously will not give the player any sort of reward for having done the quest. It is also possible from this point to marry him if the player is so inclined. This is ill advised, because Todd Howard will keep all of the money from whatever business he opens and he never sleeps, which some players reportedly find creepy.

- I like that little freak the adoring fan and how you can make him run off a cliff

- there is a mod (???) that lets you summon Santa Claus like a primordial ancient demon and I think it works for him. Santa really served cunt in that mod.

- Sheogoraths line of "CHEESE, FOR EVERYONE!!!" may be indicative of the fact he likes cheese.

[jynrso]

on second glance, part 2

when i first wrote this fic, i didn't intend for it to have a second chapter. but then as i started planning for the next work in this series, i realized that i needed a bit of cushion between this one and the next one. so here is the unexpected chapter two, the day after! i hope you enjoy! read part one: tumblr & ao3 read part two on ao3!

Seducing Tav is easier said than done. 

The woman in question doesn’t stumble out of her tent until late the next morning, one hand pressed against her side where she’d been stabbed. Everyone else has been up for an hour or two beforehand, milling around and waiting for her to wake, himself included. Despite the book in his hands, he isn’t paying much attention to the text on the page, leaving him in the prime position to notice her before the rest of their companions. 

Now that she’s his target, he intends to learn everything he can about her as quickly as possible. It’s the first time he’s cared enough to observe her. With her hood down and the direct sunlight shining down on her as she blearily pulls back the canvas of her tent, he has a few precious seconds to gather intel while her guard is lowered. 

With her hood down and the direct sunlight shining down on her, he can clearly see details of her face he hasn’t otherwise noticed. Most notable is the dark tattoo on her right cheekbone that spells out the word “sinner” in dark, block letters. It’s an odd design choice, one that doesn’t do her any favors, but to each their own, he supposes. It’s not the worst tattoo he’s ever seen, not by far, so he moves on. 

Based on the scars peeking out of her clothing and the calloused, bruised skin of her knuckles, he doubts she’s a noblewoman or lady of high standing. There’s evidence of an old injury on one side of her face, curling around her jawbone and down to her neck but remaining mostly hidden underneath the gorget she always wears. The multitude of freckles dotting her cheeks speak to a life spent in the sun and the steely flint in her eyes tells him that she’s not the type to be fucked around with. 

That, of course, is exactly what their party tries to do upon seeing her. As they rush her, the most obvious expression on Tav’s face is the distress she just barely manages to clamp down on when she realizes what she’s just walked into. 

With barely concealed amusement, he watches as she tries to make a silent escape but to no avail. Before she can do anything, Gale jumps up from the campfire upon seeing her, rushing to her side to lead her toward where the others are eating breakfast. What everyone seems to miss, however, is Tav’s near imperceptible flinch when Gale guides her over with a light brush against the small of her back. And when she reluctantly sits down, he notes the way she chooses a spot all to herself and hunches inward, as if to make herself smaller, as if to avoid any more accidental touches. 

The puzzle he’d started piecing together the previous night grows bigger. Perhaps this is the perfect opportunity to play the knight in shining armor, to save her from the beast of small talk. She’s the hero type –– or, at least, the type that saves children at the expense of herself. The whole ���– she protects everyone but who protects her? –– sort of thing. 

What she needs him to be, then, is the one who saves her. It shouldn’t be too hard, even if the thought of being good and kind for no reason makes him feel sick to his stomach. (After all, no one had saved him –– no one had ever even tried.  

Would she have? He doubts it.)

Reminding himself of why he’s doing this in the first place, Astarion saunters over to the group from where he’d been standing a few feet away with an easy smile on his face. He takes a seat on the other side of the log Tav’s occupying, keeping a small space between them. Even though small, “accidental” touches are often the easiest way to start a courtship, he has to go slow with this one, lest he scare her off too soon. 

“Why, good morning, darling,” he practically purrs, his voice low, only for her. “You’re looking much better. Thank goodness I was out in the woods last night, hmm?” 

Tav’s hands curl around the small bowl of porridge that Gale had handed her seconds earlier, body angled just slightly away from his. She shoots him a look with disagreement written all over it, likely gearing up to tell him that she would have made it back on her own just fine without his help, but Shadowheart interrupts their side conversation before she can open her mouth. 

“How are you feeling? I healed you the best I could last night but if anything’s still bothering you, I can take another look.” 

Tav shifts, one of her arms subtly curving around the area where she’d been stabbed. Though if Shadowheart’s to be believed, the wound is no longer open, Tav still moves as if it pains her. Yet, predictably, instead of saying so, she responds, her voice slightly raspy, “I’m good.” A pause, then she adds as an afterthought, brows furrowing together, “. . .Thank you.” 

Shadowheart blinks. There’s a faint pink blush high on her cheekbones at the (unexpected?) show of gratitude; though he has no intention of suddenly beginning to thank their cleric after every small bit of healing, it’s useful information that he files away for the future, in case seducing Tav doesn’t work out as planned. “I –– it really –– ” 

Luckily for both of them, Karlach bursts into the conversation without any tact, practically vibrating in excitement. Her voice booms, effectively cutting off Shadowheart’s stilted response and her attempt at an emotion, exclaiming, “ Tav! Did you really take down the entire goblin camp by yourself?” 

This is the most direct attention that’s been placed on the other rogue since she’d first joined the party. Her face remains flinty but Astarion can see a hint of a flush rising up on her cheeks, shoulders hunching up slightly despite her attempts to remain steadfast. Her efforts are admirable –– perhaps they’re believable to the others, but not to him. 

“Not the entire camp,” she mutters. 

“Astarion told us –– ” 

“I did nothing of that sort!” he interjects, lying blatantly as he very much recalls the way he’d burst into the camp last night and announced that she’d “taken out the entirety of the goblin camp.”

“Well, why don’t we let the woman herself explain?” Gale says, motioning back to her. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees; there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze when he looks at her, putting Astarion on edge. “The floor is yours, my lady.” 

“There’s not much to explain,” Tav stresses, seeming as if she’d rather be back in the goblin camp than have this conversation. “When we were there yesterday, I slipped poison in their drink. I went back last night to see if it worked, which it did, and when I saw an opportunity to take out the leaders, I took it.” 

When she’s met with silence, she scowls, irritable that her answer isn’t enough for them. “That’s all. There are still plenty of goblins for the rest of you.” 

Unable to help himself (and forgetting he’s supposed to be playing hero), Astarion barks out a laugh. “Darling, I don’t think that’s the issue here.” 

“There isn’t an issue,” Wyll corrects, holding up placating hands. His eyes are open, kind; it makes Astarion’s stomach churn. “We should probably go back and take care of the rest of the goblins but you did everyone a favor. Everyone’s just wondering why you didn’t say anything –– we could have helped.”  

“He’s got a point,” Karlach admits. “We were working on a plan and then you just ––  wham! Turned up half-dead in camp!” 

“The problem’s solved,” she says tightly, holding her bowl with a white-knuckled grip. Had she been any stronger, Astarion thinks she might have shattered it by now. 

“She’s right –– why are we still discussing this?” Lae’zel says in irritation. “The leaders are dead. We should be moving forward toward the creche.” 

Shadowheart throws up her hands. “ Enough with the damn creche, gith!”  

Lae’zel sneers, top lip curling upward. “My name is Lae’zel, istik , and I –– “ 

And that’s his cue to cut in and save her from this interrogation by shifting the conversation in another direction. “While the goblins are dead, we aren’t any closer to figuring out how to remove these tadpoles from our heads.” He taps the side of his forehead to prove his point. “And I, for one, am rather concerned about turning into one of those squids.”  

“The unusual thing is –– with our cases, I mean,” Gale starts, leaning forward. His eyes spark in excitement, so much so that Astarion nearly groans. “Is that none of us have shown any signs of ceremorphosis. By now, we should have. . .”  

With the attention now off of her and onto Gale and the subject of their tadpoles, Tav visibly relaxes. It takes her a minute or two but when she finally glances over at Astarion, her gaze meets his with a look of gratitude, dipping her chin down ever so slightly in thanks. In the right lighting, Tav is . . . well, she could be considered beautiful, by some. 

(If he’d been anyone else, his undead heart might have skipped a beat in his chest. But he’s not –– and it doesn’t.)

From there, matters are quickly wrapped up. There’s no argument about their plan for the day; because of Tav’s actions the prior night, everyone generally agreed that circling back to the goblin camp and cleaning up the remainder is the best place to start. Since they’d completed most of their preparations last night in expectation of taking down the goblins’ leadership the next morning, it doesn’t take long for the group to get ready and on the road. 

With their current camp only just out of range of the goblins’, the walk over to it isn’t long. Tav spends most of it flitting in and out of the shadows, using the excuse that she’s scouting the area and making sure they remain undetected as they go. It’s a flimsy explanation and Astarion isn’t the only one who sees it for what it is; but considering how uncomfortable she’d been earlier, and at any prior attempt to get to know her more, everyone silently and unanimously decides to leave her be for now. 

(Though that’s not to say they hadn’t tried earlier. Perhaps foolishly rallied by the amount of information they’d gotten out of Tav about the goblin camp, some of their companions tried to push their luck even further, curiosity winning out over better judgment. 

“You don’t talk much about yourself, Tav,” Wyll comments. “Where were you, before all this?” 

It’s a casual enough statement but Astarion can hear the probing curiosity underneath his words. Astarion suspects that everyone in their party is hiding something but most have been relatively forthcoming with small details of their lives. Even he has dropped a few morsels about his life in Baldur’s Gate as a magister, untrue as they may be. But Tav has given them nothing. 

The other rogue stiffens slightly upon being addressed, the only sign that she’d heard Wyll’s question. She doesn’t turn to face him, merely continues packing the necessities for travel. Vaguely, she replies, “Baldur’s Gate.” 

Wyll remains undeterred. “Oh? Perhaps we ran into each other –– “ 

Tav brushes him off brusquely, effectively ending the matter before it even begins. “We wouldn’t have.” 

With that, she gets up and walks away, leaving the folk hero floundering. Astarion, watching their interaction from his tent, delights in the uncomfortable air that lingers in her wake.)

Using the lack of attention on Tav to his advantage, Astarion slinks into the surrounding forest himself, keeping an eye out for her. It takes him longer than he expects to catch a glimpse of her; she’s just as stealthy as he is, with the flash of her cloak being the only thing that gives her away when he approaches her location.  

“Try not to disappear on me quite yet, darling,” he drawls, holding up his hands in a mocking sign of surrender. They’re far enough ahead that he stops right in front of her, forcing her to do so, too. “I just want to have a little chat and then you can go back to your scouting.” 

Predictably, Tav says nothing, just crosses her arms over her chest, and looks at him expectantly. 

“Is it so wrong of me to see how you’re doing?” he begins. “After all, you passed out quite dramatically in my arms last night. Quite a lot of blood, too –– took me ages to get it all out of my clothing.” After squeezing out every last drop into his mouth.

Perhaps she thinks that if she says nothing, he’ll go away. It’s tempting –– she’s slowly driving him to the brink of insanity –– but he needs this, needs someone like her on his side if he has any hopes of beating Cazador. He must persist, even if it kills a part of him. 

He sighs, a flare of irritation rising up inside of him. Must he do all the work? It’s taken two centuries but he’s honed his skills of seduction to an effectively wielded blade; as much as it disgusts him, his advances aren’t normally so one-sided. It doesn’t help that she won’t stop glaring at him, especially when he’s done nothing to cause this sort of reaction from her. 

“Will you stop looking at me like that? Gods, woman –– ” he snaps, the words slipping from his tongue before he can pull them back. His eyes widen as soon as he realizes his mistake, and he desperately opens his mouth to try and smooth this over –– 

“Do you want me to get down on my knees and thank you, Astarion?” she interrupts coolly. The accented way she says his name, lips curling around the vowels, does something to him; that, combined with the image of her on her knees in front of him, has lust running concurrently with his annoyance through his veins. “That’s why you found me, isn’t it?” 

“Is this how you treat everyone who’s done you a kindness?” he retorts, inwardly scrambling. Her words are too close to the truth, leaving him reeling and feeling unbalanced. “Would you rather I’d left you on your own to bleed out? I don’t know if you remember, darling, but you practically collapsed before me.” 

Tav bares her teeth, looking for a moment more feral than usual. One of her hands strays to her blade sheathed at her side despite him currently being no physical threat to her. Her tense muscles ripple underneath her skin, weight shifting onto her front leg as if she’s anticipating a fight. 

In an instance of stunning clarity, he realizes she feels as if he’s backed her into a corner despite not trying to. For what reason, he doesn’t know, but this is something he can use. He pushes down the wave of shame that comes with this realization and plows forward, reminding himself why he’s doing this. 

“While I’d love to see you on your knees,” he murmurs, taking another step toward her. “That’s not why I sought you out. Rather, I have a . . .” He mulls over the words, then snaps his fingers, “ proposition for you.” 

“A proposition,” she repeats flatly.

“You and I –– we’re not like the others,” he continues smoothly. “Besides the obvious, of course.” 

Tav arches a brow in question. He clarifies, “The whole rogue business, darling. Do try to keep up.” 

He continues, pushing forward to keep her on the hook. “Now, where was I? Ah, yes ––  us . The two of us are different. Without these tadpoles, we never would have run with this sort of group. They’re too . . . oh , what’s the word? Flashy, maybe. Too self-righteous. And after last night, I realized that you’re someone I’d rather have on my side, so to speak.” 

Astarion watches as his words begin to take root. Her glare is replaced by a more critical, appraising look, and her muscles begin to relax. Still a threat, but not an active one. No longer in fight-or-flight mode, though still suspicious, she asks, “So –– what? You want me to watch your back? That’s it?” 

“We’ll watch each other’s backs,” he corrects. “Excuse me for saying so, but you haven’t exactly made the best impression on the group.” 

That’s putting it lightly. While she’d done everyone a favor by taking out the goblins’ leaders, she hasn’t made any attempt to endear herself to their party. In fact, he’d argue that she’s gone out of her way to remain separate and isolated. 

She scowls. “Neither have you.” 

“I’d be offended if that wasn’t the point of all this.” His eyes flash, the corner of his mouth curling up into a grin. “Now, I think it’s in our best interest to stick around, see if Halsin or the githyanki can remove the tadpoles. Strength in numbers, and all that.” 

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” she points out. “You just want me to pay you back for helping me out last night, is that it? Return the bloody favor?” 

Astarion resists the urge to roll his eyes, forcing himself to lay the charm on thicker in the fact of her stubbornness. “This benefits both of us. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be you playing the hero next time. But we can’t guarantee that anyone else will care enough to look out for us except for us.” 

“And that’s all you want? Nothing more?” 

The incredulous note in her voice would have offended him had he not built his current persona on the foundation of sex and charisma. All the same, her quick assumption makes a part of him roil in disgust. As a rallying cry, he reminds himself that this is necessary –– he needs allies against Cazador.  

“I certainly wouldn’t be opposed, not with a pretty thing like you,” he purrs. “But only if you’re willing.” 

She mulls his proposition over, looking off in the distance as she does. Underneath the sounds of the forest around them, he can just barely make out their companions’ voices as they approach their location. 

“Fine,” she says finally, holding out a hand for him to shake. “We watch each other’s backs for now.”  

“You’ve got a deal, my dear,” he replies. And if he lets his hand linger against hers for a few minutes longer than necessary, fingers caressing her own, it’s all in the name of ensuring his future. “We ought to get back, don’t you think? Unless you want everyone to think that we’ve been, ah, exploring each other’s bodies, which, as I’ve said –– ” 

Tav makes a rude gesture with her fingers behind her back as she heads back toward the sounds of their party. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut and telling himself that he should be elated he has a semblance of a plan in place, Astarion forces a chuckle and follows close behind. 

Despite their tentative alliance, it’s clear that his promise to watch her back has done little to endear himself to her. Tav is damn slippery, especially now that he’s actively trying to catch her. Any attempt at flirtation has become infinitely more difficult when he can barely engage her in a conversation; when she’s not giving him limited, few-worded answers, she disappears from sight before he can even open his mouth. 

All the while, his hunger grows. Their group frequently gets into an inordinately large amount of fights, all of which drain his already low supply of strength. Managing on rodents or the occasional deer alone is no longer feasible; he’s getting sloppy, with too many close calls that would never happen on a proper diet. 

All the while, the taste of Tav’s blood haunts him. It hadn’t been much but it had been enough to get him intoxicated off of the taste. He can smell the others’ blood, can guess at what it might taste like (Shadowheart, for example, undoubtedly has a heavy, enigmatic flavor –– but likely much too sweet for his taste), and would be perfectly satisfied drinking from most of them. . .but it’s Tav’s blood he wants ––  craves, even. 

And so his attempt at a slow, practiced seduction very nearly fizzles out days after it’d formed in his mind. Unable to think of anything other than the hunger gnawing at his gut, he acts on instinct, on impulse, and sneaks up on her one night while she sleeps. 

Just a little taste, he tells himself, to tide himself over. He kneels at her side, mesmerized by the sound of her heart thumping and the heady rush of her blood through her veins, and his fangs slide out unconsciously. Just a taste and nothing more. . .

Tav wakes. 

[stereogeekspodcast]

[Transcript] Season 4, Episode 5. Doctor Who (2023) Review

Doctor Who is back! Ncuti Gatwa takes on the starring role as everyone's favourite Timelord in a new series. Ron and Mon share their spoiler-free review of the first two episodes of the new show, and discuss what we hope to see in the remainder of the season.

Listen to the episode on Spotify.

Hello and welcome to a new episode of Stereo Geeks.

Today, we're talking about Doctor Who.

I'm Ron.

And I'm Mon.

Doctor Who, 2023.

We've got a new doctor in the house.

See what I did there.

Played by Ncuti Gatwa, and his new companion, Ruby Sunday, played by Millie Gibson.

So in 2024, we're getting the full season for the new doctor.

We start with Space Babies, episode one.

This is actually the second episode of Ncuti Gatwa as the doctor in the lead.

He was introduced in The Giggle.

Let's not even try and figure out seasons, series, who's the doctor, which number.

I'm not gonna try and figure that out.

Let's just get into it.

We have watched the first two episodes of this season.

We're not gonna reveal any spoilers.

We're just gonna talk about what the episodes were kind of about, how we felt about it, if we're excited for the rest of the season.

So episode one is called Space Babies.

It starts off literally moments after the end of episode zero, which was the Christmas special called The Church on Ruby Road.

There's a theme of babies, which obviously isn't the most interesting for us, but it makes sense because both Ruby and the Doctor are orphans.

This Doctor, I would say, number 15, I believe, is his number.

He remembers a lot more about his life, and I'm wondering if that's because he was split from 14.

13 spent her first few episodes getting her bearings, but 15 is in full flow.

Yeah, Ncuti Gatwa, he's really taken to this role.

He's a very young Doctor as well, but I think he is delightful.

He's so charming, so energetic.

He has this huge smile and two very big hearts.

Well, not him, the Doctor.

Absolutely.

Ncuti Gatwa is very charming.

He's very fun.

And he's playing this Doctor as a kind of free spirit, somebody who's enjoying a life with no strings attached.

So let's get into the episode.

It's kind of Doctor Who-ish, so it's a bit weird.

Honestly, for us, we grew up on Star Trek.

So Doctor Who was not something that we understood that well till we sort of fell upon it on TV one time.

We've definitely got into a little bit more thanks to 13.

And now we're a little bit more invested with 15.

This show has never been subtle, but this particular episode, Space Babies, I feel like it really hits you on the head with some real world issues.

It drops these notes in, in sort of a sarcastic aside, but they're unmissable.

It's kind of obvious that at least this new version of the show is definitely trying to send a message.

Yeah, it addresses a couple of real world issues.

I mean, the big one is genocide and the lasting impact on those who survive.

The doctor may be happy-go-lucky, but he's using that to hide this tremendous loss.

And I feel like this episode definitely touches on the revealing of Roe vs.

Wade in the US.

There's a short but poignant discussion about humanity's insistence on birthing babies.

It has absolutely no interest in taking care of.

And also what happens to those people when they're growing up?

Because one of the things that this episode leans into quite a lot, I would say it's a running theme throughout the episode, is uniqueness.

It's not a problem to be different.

At least that's what this episode is positing.

This isn't a new theme in any pop culture, but it hits differently and more poignantly when it's coming from a character who looks like Gatwa.

I mean, if the doctor wants you to regenerate into a big purple blob, nobody would complain.

But because he's a queer black man, it's like a big deal.

What I will say, and I don't know how you feel about this, I found that the episode was kind of gross.

And while it was just alluded to and not shown, so like we weren't like gagging all over the place, but that for me undermined the strength of the episodic themes.

Yeah, it definitely gets a bit gross at times, and I struggle with that very easily, but I think they wanted to bring in a lot of humor because there were some heavy elements, but I think I could have done without it.

I would say that this episode sets up the chemistry between the Doctor and Ruby quite well.

We got obviously quite a bit of that in the Christmas special, but you can really see them as a time traveling pair.

And I would say that the chemistry in this episode is even stronger than in the episode zero.

I don't know how to feel about Ruby and the Doctor because with shorter seasons, where it's like eight, maybe max 10 episodes, and we already know about the changes that are coming up in this show, it's really hard for me to become invested in the Doctor and Ruby's relationship.

What is obvious is that they're really building up the mystery surrounding Ruby's history.

And I'm curious to find out more about that, as well as what impact it has on the Doctor.

Yeah, good point.

They've laid the groundwork for a lot of that history.

And they also do have a few moments with Ruby's mom and grandma.

I hope that we get to see more of them, because they seem like a lovely family.

And like with 13, every time we got to see, yeah, this family, it just felt like a built up universe.

It's always the supporting characters that sort of give more gravitas to who your main characters are.

And as you said, builds up the world, but builds up their world, helps us become even more invested and interested in them.

So I agree with you.

I would love to see more of her mom and her grandmom.

So moving on to the second episode, The Devil's God.

Now this tritone that is the name of the episode got me excited.

Now in this episode, the Doctor and Ruby travel to the 60s.

They get to play dress up.

It's kind of fun to see them try on 60s fashion.

I honestly feel like 13 and her crew didn't get to do that much.

They didn't travel within Earth.

They traveled mostly to other planets.

And in any case, 13 always wore her t-shirt and jacket anyway.

We should probably make a note about why we're talking about 13 a lot, because we didn't watch Doctor Who regularly until 13 came on the scene, and then suddenly we were just like, we were watching her every week.

We couldn't wait.

Jodie Whittaker's Doctor was very fun.

We were obviously excited because there was a woman in the role.

So yeah, now we're kind of just going along with the ride.

I also think with Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, they tried to do something different with some of the stories, not all, obviously.

And I think that's why we ended up tuning in a lot more.

It was a little bit more inclusive and diverse.

I feel like that's also there with Ncuti Gatwa's Doctor, especially in this episode, which is in the 60s.

I know in the past and on a lot of other shows, if you went back to 1960s England everybody would be white, but they specifically have some extras who are people of color.

So I like that.

This episode, The Devil's Code, is very Doctor Who like.

It's silly, it's campy, it has time travel and very high stakes.

It's like as Doctor Who as you can get.

This episode was my jam.

Wow, that's high praise.

I think one of the reasons why this episode really works is because of Jinx Monsoon, who is the guest star for this episode.

She is very cool.

She really knows how to steal the scene without being cringey.

Well, Jinx Monsoon is a drag performer.

She plays Maestro.

In real life, from what I can see, she goes by she her pronouns, but Maestro uses they them pronouns.

Monsoon is a RuPaul's Drag Race winner and a Broadway star.

So pretty heavy hitter.

No wonder she's just seamlessly stealing the scene in this episode.

So if it's not obvious by now, this episode is about music.

And episodes around music or the arts, they're always very interesting.

Now, I am curious to know how you felt because I think the writing here didn't explore the direct or even the indirect impacts of music on changing the world as much as it should have.

It's definitely hinted at, but it was very, very plot heavy.

And I think that for me, felt like it missed the plot.

Very interesting point.

I thought it was a great sci-fi concept.

So the essence of the plot is that humanity has thrived this long, primarily on the power of music.

I like that the arts are being spotlighted in an episode like this, in a profiteer like this.

Science fiction, you know, it usually discusses the importance of science, exploration, morality.

Well, what about the arts and culture?

We're seeing AI being used as a shortcut to make art, and music, and create stories.

Now is as good a time as any to center human artistry.

I think if this episode had been maybe a two-parter, we could have really leaned into that.

Because you're right, it doesn't examine the impact that music has had on history and the way we are right now.

See, you've brought in a good point here.

AI, especially generative AI, and how it's being used as a shortcut, as you said, to get into arts and culture.

That's a plot point that I really feel like Doctor Who, of all shows, could have easily segued to, and probably done it in a very blunt fashion and still got it to work.

I will say that probably at the time that this episode was being made, generative AI's impact on art was probably not being felt as strongly as it is right now in 2024.

So maybe that's why they didn't lean into that, but honestly, somebody's gotta talk about it.

True, true.

I liked Maestro as a villain.

Thoughts?

I loved Maestro.

In all honesty, I was a bit worried at first.

Another campy, queer villain after Toymaker, played by Neil Patrick Harris, he was phenomenal.

He was having a great time.

I really enjoyed watching him.

So I felt like, oh, is Maestro just doing the same thing?

But it works within the context of the story.

And in all honesty, Monsoon is having such a ball, I can't possibly begrudge her anything.

I will say, I feel like aside from the Christmas special, this show isn't yet really leaning into 15s queerness.

Queer coded villains, they've been a mainstay of friction.

Most Disney properties have had such villains.

And now, remember, Doctor Who is on Disney+.

So we need more queer heroes to balance that out.

Ncuti Gatwa is an out queer actor.

I'm not saying every episode has to be about how he's queer and beautiful, but maybe I wouldn't mind.

No, I agree with you.

I kept wondering while I was watching these two episodes, what's missing, what's missing?

And it really is a case of them dumbing down that aspect of his character.

I guess we can speculate why they don't want to alienate the current fans, you know, the long time fans, but I don't think that's correct.

It's not like they're ignoring the whole queer spectrum.

They do hint at that and they talk about it, but why not with the doctor himself?

Well, let's be honest, with 13, there was a golden opportunity and they just flubbed that.

I hope they don't do that with Ncuti’s as well.

I am very interested to see where this season is going to go with the doctor because he's shared a lot of feelings about his past.

When we were watching 13, again, we haven't seen much before that, so everything we know is from 13.

She learned so many horrible truths about her life and that so much of her existence had been hidden from her.

Is 15 going to be engaging with those?

He's already made a few references now about the losses that he suffered and that he's lived through, he's survived, he's the only Timelord left.

That's a huge burden to deal with.

I'm hoping that this season has some resolution planned for him because if somebody in the very first two episodes has shared such deep sorrow and then he immediately tries to laugh it off, something's going on here.

Well, it's also a little bit weird that we keep seeing the doctor running scared.

We've seen him do that two episodes in a row.

Listen, I'm all for, especially male characters, being vulnerable, being human, being realistic.

But the question is, why is it that the first black doctor is this vulnerable?

Again, most of our references come from 13 onwards.

But whatever we've seen, it's not like we've never seen a single Doctor Who episode before 13, but you know, they're always like kind of macho-ish in some ways.

You know, this is really different.

Yeah, 15 is scared.

He's run from danger twice, and you know, if he's doing it because he's trying to protect Ruby, that's, you know, something that we've seen before.

But I'm beginning to wonder, like, the fact that he didn't regenerate into 15, he was split in half from 14.

Has that made him more attuned to emotions?

Do Timelords have similar emotions to humans?

Is there something bigger at play here that makes him want to run away from danger?

In all honesty, I think this doctor is depressed, y'all.

I kinda agree with you on that.

So I don't know about you, I feel like Millie Gibson was a bit too giggly in this episode.

That took me out, honestly.

I know some actors do the giggle and bouncy thing where they don't know what to do.

I'm really surprised that they kept so many of those moments in the actual episode.

Yeah, honestly, this episode was not Ruby's best.

She got short shrift in the climax, for sure.

She did have one really amazing scene, and she gives us the context for why she's doing a particular thing, and I was just like, oh, I feel this in my heart, but then it doesn't go anywhere.

Yeah, this episode, as fun as it is, it's a bit all over the place, because I'm not sure about that denouement either.

I felt like it was leading up to something, but then the episode kind of just ended, which also kind of undermines the message of the denouement.

Very confused here.

I was wondering whether it was because this episode is about just 50 minutes, and I was comparing it to The Giggle, which was an hour.

They had 10 extra minutes to really lean into the resolution.

I don't think we got that with this one.

Having said that, I did really enjoy this episode, the period costumes, the theme.

This is the kind of science fiction I want to see more of.

I agree with you, and I also feel like not all science fiction, especially science fiction, has to be serious.

But I guess I just want something more out of whatever I'm watching.

If it's an oblique reference, if it's a direct reference, I just needed to say something so that we come away feeling like there's a way to make things better, or that other people who want to watch this world burn will watch something like this and change their minds.

I guess I'm just asking Art to do exactly what this episode tells us Art can do.

Change the world.

But we are looking forward to the rest of the season.

We are looking forward to seeing more of Ncuti.

I don't know what direction Ruby is going to go in this, but I don't care.

I'm quite happy to join this Doctor Who ride.

Hope you'll all join it with us.

Ron: You can find us on Twitter @Stereo_Geeks. Or send us an email stereogeekspodcast@gmail.com. We hope you enjoyed this episode. And see you next week!

Mon: The Stereo Geeks logo was created using Canva. The music for our podcast comes courtesy Audionautix.

[crenna]

First ask of the blog makeover!

What books do you recommend? I’m starting most of the way through book one of Caraval but often if I don’t have a series picked out first I go ages without reading haha

hii! thank you for the ask!! 🥹🫶

there are so many books i could recommend, but first of all anything by amie kaufman! she’s my favorite author, her books (some fantasy, some sci-fi, most are co-written with someone else) are absolutely genius and written with so much love. also, she’s hilarious, her characters make me laugh! if you enjoy caraval and/or OUABH, you might like the other side of the sky (duology, the romantic tension is insaaane), or if you’d like to go on an adventure in a fantasy world (on a ship!), the isles of the gods (also duology) is what you’ll want to read 💕

then, aside from the books in my fandom list, i absolutely loved sorcery of thorns by margaret rogerson (standalone w/ a companion novella, fantasy with romance) and bone crier’s moon (duology) by kathryn purdie 🫶

i hope this helps, and that you’ll enjoy reading caraval!! 💕

[serenaew]

Serena's Masterlist: Severitus

Last updated 28/12/2023

This includes works that are not explicitly Severitus, but Harry & Snape gen.

Overview

Meta:

Interview on the Fanfic Maverick Podcast, 2nd half

Series:

Forget Me Not Universe (WIP):

Ouroboros in Tribute (T, complete)

it is time (for it to be time) (M, WIP: 1/5)

Unforgiven, unforgotten (T, complete, only available on P&S for the time being )

Christmas in Limbo Universe:

Christmas in Limbo (M, WIP: 3/7)

As they meet (T, complete)

Pomelo universe:

A small step for a boy (G, complete)

One-Shots:

Portrait of a Swan (T, complete, only available on P&S)

Withered Flowers (T, complete)

The Curse of Halloween (T, complete)

Podfic and filk:

[Fic & Podfic] Surrender (M, complete)

[Fic & Podfic] Reconditioning (T, complete)

[Podfic] Quidditch and Quietude (G, complete)

[Podfic] Stolen Years Lost (G, complete)

[Podfic] Cinnamon Rolls (G, complete)

Loose poetry:

Late Reflections (T, complete)

Expand for more details on individual elements.

Details

Series:

Forget Me Not Universe:

In which Severus Snape finds out that Harry Potter, presumed dead, has been his son all along.

Inspired by lesyeuxverts' like poppy and memory.

Ouroboros in Tribute (T, complete)

Summary: Blood, I have learnt, is thicker than water. - The life of a fallen Prince, as remembered by the father he had never known. Additional Tags/Warnings: Poetry, Sonnets, Podfic, Severus Snape is Harry Potter's biological father, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt No Comfort, Implied Character Death

it is time (for it to be time) (M, WIP: 1/5)

Summary: Severus Snape never expected to survive the war. But here he is, one year after the Dark Lord's final defeat - one year after Harry Potter's disappearance, presumed death. As the boy's Last Will and Testament is released, Severus finds himself facing the gravity of his actions, in the form of the secrets hidden inside a cherry-wood box, and scribbled across a leatherbound journal. Additional Tags/Warnings: Emotional Hurt no Comfort, Canon divergence, implied MCD, ritual magic, non-linear narrative, five stages of grief

Unforgiven, unforgotten (T, complete, only available on P&S)

Summary: He does not expect to be forgiven; he vows to never forget. Additional Tags/Warnings: Implied Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt No Comfort

Christmas in Limbo Universe:

To put it in the words of my beta: What if Nagini, not Harry, got all the plot armour when she captured Harry in Godric's Hollow?

Christmas in Limbo (M, WIP: 3/7)

Summary: Christmas Eve 1997. All is not well. Harry Potter's successful capture by Nagini in Godric's Hollow prompts some divine intervention and leads to astonishing revelations. Additional Tags/Warnings: Canonical Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Temporary Character Death, Implied Dissociation, Canon Divergence - Book 7, Afterlife - sort of, Time Travel, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Lily meddles from beyond, Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion

As they meet (T, complete)

Summary: Companion poem for Christmas in Limbo. Additional Tags/Warnings: Poetry

Pomelo universe:

A Severitus six-shot where pomelos make regular appearances.

A small step for a boy (G, complete)

Summary: After having been rescued from the Dursleys, Harry continues to struggle with eating; and Severus struggles with watching Harry struggle - until a pomelo comes along. Additional Tags/Warnings: Kidfic, domestic fluff with a sprinkle of angst, eating diorder, pomelo, hopeful ending

One-shots:

Portrait of a Swan (T, complete, only available on P&S)

Summary: Harry talks to Snape's Portrait after the events in Ugly Duckling. Additional Tags/Warnings: Referenced Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-epilogue, bittersweet inspired by Morgana's Ugly Duckling.

Withered Flowers (T, complete)

Summary: The meaning of flowers, past, present and future. In remembrance of Severus and Lily. Additional Tags/Warnings: Referenced Character Death, Classical Music, Songfic, Making Peace With Canon, Afterlife

The Curse of Halloween (T, complete)

Summary: Every Halloween was cursed with new nightmares. This year was no different. Additional Tags / Warnings: Halloween, Masquerade, bad memories, panic attack, hopeful ending

Podfic and filk:

[Fic & Podfic] Surrender (M, Severus & Harry, complete)

Summary: Harry ends his life within the Veil after losing Sirius, and Severus spends every day visiting, wondering if he should follow. Additional Tags/Warnings: Suicidal Idealation, Depression, Referenced Character Death, Bible Quotes

[Fic & Podfic] Reconditioning (T, pre-Severitus, complete)

Summary: Harry has gained an unexpected interest in potions, but that does not stop him from blowing cauldrons. To counter that, Harry throws himself headfirst in studying the theory. Ironically, he just keeps getting worse, and Harry can't figure out why. Umbridge is another obstacle, as is Professor Snape. Or is he? Additional Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Potions, Occlumency, Angst, Pre-Severitus

[Podfic] Quidditch and Quietude (G, complete)

Summary: Harry is looking for some peace and quiet after a rough quidditch match. He knows just where to go. Assume established severitus. 6th year-ish. Podfic of Quidditch and Quietude by Ttime42. Additional Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Autumn

[Podfic] Stolen Years Lost (G, complete)

Summary: What could he say? Severus was gone, and now Harry would never see the light at the end of those tunnels again. Podfic of Stolen Years Lost by BinteMuhammad. Additional Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Post-Canon, Auror Harry Potter, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning

[Podfic] Cinnamon Rolls (G, complete)

Summary: Eileen takes Sev and Harry shopping at the market. Podfic of Cinnamon Rolls by WiCeBa. Additional Tags / Warnings: Family Dynamics, Referenced Child Abuse, Mostly fluff, some difficult memories

Loose poetry:

Late Reflections (T, complete)

Summary: All was said and done. Reflecting on what was, and what could have been. Additional Tags/Warnings: Poetry, Hurt no Comfort, Religious imagery and Symbolism