#i promise at least 35% of these make sense

[cuteniaarts]

Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

Who's the fairest of them all?

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

Chapter 35

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Warnings: fluff, Lottie being a cute, Henry being sweet,

A/N: This is just a filler chapter and I'm not super in love with it. I wanted to set up Sugar and Honey's future friendship. Also because Honey and Steve are not a thing yet in this series Lottie gives Honey a nickname of her own...

Series masterlist

The new house was almost completely furnished so it was a no-brainer that you’d moved in already. The master bedroom was a dream come true with a giant walk-in closet, en-suite bathroom and a private balcony that looked out to the back yard. You loved that it was still on the compound grounds but separate. The best part was that Tony was having one made for everyone on the team so it would be like a little community with just your friends. Most of the houses were halfway finished too.

You had been surprised when Tony offered your father a position as a part time instructor for the agents in training. Eddie had been in the military and had the knowledge so he accepted, he even took your old apartment. He’d decided to rent out the family home since it was just him now. Luke and Molly of course had their own place. Josh and Sofia were still in college and living in the dorm rooms. Living at the compound made more sense to Eddie and now he was closer to all of his kids. It would be best for him since he wouldn’t be as lonely anymore. Not since Lorraine disappeared, to them at least. You knew the truth and you couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d tell your family or how you would handle the situation once she was found. 

There’s a dip at the end of the bed that pulls you out of your thoughts. You close the book you stopped reading a while ago and look up to see Bucky crawling his way up towards you. He smiles before giving you a quick kiss and then settling down over your lower half. Bucky snakes his arms around your hips, his head rests over your midsection and his eyes close as he sighs peacefully. You run your fingers through his hair, down his shoulders and back up. Bucky groans at the sensation. The engagement ring catches your eyes for the thousandth time that day and you can’t help but smile. 

“We should get married.” You say after a moment of silence. 

“What do you think the ring was for?” 

You giggle. “I mean we should start planning.” 

“Sugar, as long as it’s me and you in front of an officiant I don’t care where or when we do it. We can have a big wedding or we can elope. The final choice is up to you as long as you become my wife and no one objects because I really don’t want to murder anyone on our wedding day.” 

“You can’t murder anyone on our wedding day.” 

“I can’t make any promises. But what I can do is help plan. Just say the word and I’ll do whatever you want.” Bucky says confidently. 

“What about the rest of our lives?” 

“I’ll definitely help with that. Let’s see, we have jobs and a house.” Bucky starts saying.

“What about kids? We have two already.” 

Bucky shifts slightly so that he can look at you. “Do you want more kids?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I’d love more kids.” 

“How many is ‘more’ to you?” You tilt your head to the side. 

The conversation gets put on hold when Lottie stops in the hallway.

“Hey.” Lottie calls out from the doorway with a little pout on her lips. “Wanna cuddle too.” 

“Then come up here.” 

She jumps on the bed and you point at Bucky’s back. Lottie giggles before throwing herself on top of Bucky. He grunts when she lands on his back. Her little arms fall around his sides and she even tickles him. You can’t help but chuckle as Bucky pretends to feel ticklish for his daughter's sake. Henry steps into your bedroom a few seconds later with Alpine in his arms. He takes one look at whatever is happening on the bed and furrows his brows in confusion. 

“Bubba help.” Lottie yells with a laugh when Bucky flips her off his back and tries to grab her. 

Henry places Alpine down and  jumps on the bed and then on Bucky. 

“Aren’t you gonna help, Sugar? I’m being attacked from all sides.” Bucky says from under the two kids who have now overpowered him, supposedly. 

As you reach for Henry he turns invisible and takes Charlotte with him. All you hear is the echo of their footsteps and laughter. They even taunt Bucky from somewhere in the house that he can’t get them. Bucky props himself up on his elbows and looks at you with a dreamy look in his eyes. 

“I want more of that with as many kids as you’ll give me.” Bucky answers the question you’d asked him before Lottie walked in. “I don’t care if it’s one or four or ten.” 

“Not ten.” 

Bucky chuckles. “The point is that whatever happens, however many kids we have, I’ll be more than happy to share all of that with you.” 

You smile softly at him then lean forward and kiss him. 

“We have some kids to catch.” You say against his lips.

Bucky huffs a laugh, his eyes and nose wrinkling. He gets up and holds a hand out for you. 

“Ready or not, here we come.” You announce loudly, receiving a scream from Lottie. 

You were panting, hands on your hips and sweaty. Even though you weren’t an active member of the Avengers anymore you still kept up with your training, just in case. It was a beautiful day outside so you opted for a run. You’d just finished and were catching your breath when Bruce’s lab assistant walked up to you. She played with the pearl necklace she was wearing as she moved closer. 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” You say her name and smile.

“So I hate to do this but I was wondering if I could get your help.” She states.

“Well I can try. What’s going on? Are Bruce and Tony up to something?” 

She shakes her head before placing her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. 

“There’s this piece of equipment that was brought from the tower but they couldn’t get it into the building the normal way. It doesn’t fit through the hallways. Tony was able to get a window off the building but it’s getting complicated.” She sighs in frustration. “I was wondering if you could, you know.” She brings a hand up and wiggles her fingers. 

You chuckle but nod your head. 

“Lead the way.” You turn to see that Henry and Lottie are standing beside Bucky while he’s putting the recruits through some training. The kids are cheering them on and even handing out water bottles to some. 

**** 

You stood at the far end of the lab where Tony had the glass pane removed. Outside on the lawn sat a pretty big machine wrapped up in a tarp. With your hands on your hip you consider how to best move this thing. 

“Where do you want this?” You turn back and look at Bruce’s assistant. 

“Here would be fine. If it’s not too much trouble.” She answers while pointing towards a corner of the room. 

“Ok.” 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes while concentrating on the machine below. Slowly and evenly the machine starts to levitate and then move higher until it’s at your level. Then you manipulate it to move toward the building. 

“Does it look like I can actually pull it in?” You ask as you survey the entry point. 

“You have enough space to bring it in without hitting the other windows.” 

You nod and walk backwards, pulling the machine in your direction until it’s in the room.

“Can you take the cover off before I set it down?” 

She rushes over and removes the tarp with a small smile. It’s obvious she’s excited about this because you don’t see her smiling that much. With whatever this machine is in place you finally set it down. She inspects it and nods in approval.

“Thank you. Tony was taking forever in getting his bots to fly this up.” 

“You’re welcome.” You smile at her. “Listen, I was if I were to invite you for dinner-“ 

“No.” She said way too quickly it almost made you chuckle. “Sorry I just- I’m not good with the whole friend thing.” 

“It’s ok. I was just going to invite you to dinner on Friday night at my place. Steve will be there too, if it makes you feel more comfortable. Don’t feel pressured to go but the invitation stands. Not just for Friday but any day.”

“I uh-“ 

“Mama.” Lottie calls out for you with a sing songy lilt to her voice. The double doors slide open and in walks your daughter with a smile on her face. “Oh hi mama.” She turns and greets Bruce’s assistant. 

“Hello Charlotte. I saw you training the recruits.” 

Charlotte’s smile grew brighter. “Am helping dada.” 

“Well you’re doing a good job.” 

“Tank you.”

“Well the offer stands.” You said softly. “Even if it’s just for coffee or if you need anything at all.” 

She gives you a small nod and thanks you again for your help. 

“Alright sweet Angel, say goodbye to doc.” 

“Duck?” Lottie looks confused. “Mama is no duck.” 

“I said doc like doctor, sweet Angel.” 

“Oh, duck is cute, wike a duckie. Can be my duckie?” She looks up hopefully at the other woman. 

She puts her hand on her chin like she’s thinking about it for a moment. Lottie is practically holding her breath.

“Ok you can call me Duckie. But only you.” 

“An bubba?” 

She smiles. “Sure and bubba but no one else ok?” 

“Ok, Duckie.”

“Alright sweet Angel let’s go. I need a shower.” 

“Yeah, mama you gots stinky butt.” 

“How. Dare. You?” You said, acting shocked. 

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide before she started laughing. You moved to grab her but she ran. 

“I’m gonna get you and make you all stinky.” 

Charlotte lets out what sounds like a mixture between a shriek and a laugh before running toward the sliding doors. You smile and say your goodbyes before leaving. Charlotte runs back into the lab.

“See you Fwiday. I see it, bye.” She calls out before leaving again.

The newly nicknamed Duckie stands there amused at Lottie’s behavior. 

Friday had arrived rather quickly. Bucky has kissed you goodbye about ten times already and he jogged up the porch steps one more time and gave you two more just to keep the kisses even. You laughed and pushed him toward the car you used to get to and from the compound. 

“Dada wait!” Lottie ran out of the house and stopped him as he started to reverse. 

Bucky parked and got out of the car to meet her. 

“What’s up, Doll?” 

“One mo’ hug.” She stretched her arms out in order for Bucky to hold her. 

“There’s always time for one more hug.” 

He kisses her all over her cheeks and forehead before letting her down. 

“Good wuck dada. Lobe you.” Lottie waved him off from the porch. 

Just as you were about to turn to head into the house the sound of a golf cart got your attention. 

“Duckie!” Lottie cheered as Bruce’s assistant got out and stood at the bottom of the steps.

You said her name with a smile, “I’m glad you came by.” 

She had her hands in her pockets and she looked at the floor before giving a small nod. 

“Well Charlotte said she saw it and Steve encouraged me to come over.”

“That’s good, come on in.” 

She walked up the steps and let Lottie take her hand. Lottie pulled her into the house while you reminded your daughter to be gentle. After leading her newest friend with you Lottie disappears into her playroom. 

“Want anything to drink? We have water, soda, beer, wine and juice boxes.” 

She smiled before asking for water. You placed a glass in front of her. 

“So…” you both say at the same time. 

“Go ahead.” 

“How did you and Steve become friends?” She asked. 

“I called him out on his bullshit immediately and will continue to do so happily.” 

She nods in agreement. “Good plan.” 

“How about you? How did you two meet?”

“I walked into my lab and found him alone. It was about a month after you had been taken. He was really upset about it.”

You nod and give her a tight lipped smile.  “Thank you for being there for him.” 

Henry walks in and stops when he sees there’s a guest. While he’s now used to having people around he still gets shy around unexpected guests. He smiles shyly before taking his place beside you and asking how he can help. You have him set the table and then get himself and Lottie cleaned up.

**** 

You sat at the dinner table with Henry and Duckie. Lottie was on your lap but you didn’t mind. Since you came back whenever Bucky had to go on a mission she would cling to you whenever possible. That didn’t stop her from playing little hostess though. She made sure to ask Duckie questions and even extended an invitation to a tea party later. 

“Habe some mama.” Lottie holds up her spoon, offering some dessert to you. 

“Mmm, that’s so yummy. Thank you for making dessert bubs.” 

“Henry, you made this?” Duckie asks. 

“Yeah. Mama taught me how to make a lot of things.” 

“He’s a natural in the kitchen. I just taught him the basics. He’s learned a lot on his own.” You smile proudly at your sweet boy.

“Amazing. You should be really proud of yourself. I can’t cook to save my life. So thank you both for feeding me.” 

“Well you can always come here to eat, right mama?” Henry looks at you for confirmation.

“Absolutely. Especially for Henry’s pastries they’re to die for.” 

“Yeah, is so yummy.” Lottie adds before spooning more dessert into her mouth. 

****

Once everyone was done you cleaned up the table, being joined at the kitchen sink by Duckie. She was glad to help with washing dishes.

“You’re a good mom.” She says quietly.

“Thank you.”

“I mean it.” She says and it makes you stop to look at her. “I know it must’ve been difficult at the beginning but I see that you truly love them and they love you.”

You could tell there was something behind the statement but you didn’t want to push her. 

“The beginning wasn’t easy but they just needed some patience and love and I do love them so much.” 

She gives you a small smile and you both turn to finish washing up. Just as the last dish is done you offer some wine which she accepts surprisingly. The two of you talk for a little longer, keeping the conversation light. You both share more about your jobs and how you got started. 

There are quick steps down the stairs, which you now know is Charlotte. You turn just as she stops in front of the door. A few seconds later Bucky is walking in with Steve following behind. 

“Dada.” Charlotte launches herself into Bucky’s arms. 

“Hi doll. How did you know I was going to walk in just now?” He asks in almost a joking manner.

“I see it.” She smiles proudly. “Hi Steebie.” 

Bucky gives Lottie a kiss on her forehead before handing her over to Steve. Henry surprise attacked Bucky by jumping on his back while invisible. 

“I thought you had a three day mission. What happened?”

“Halfway there we were informed that local authorities had raided the warehouses. Apparently they had been doing an undercover investigation for about a year.” Bucky shrugs before making his way to you and giving you a quick kiss.

“Good, we missed you already.” 

Bucky greeted your guest before excusing himself to change into something more comfortable. 

“We have leftovers, I’ll make you a plate. Steve, are you staying?” You tell him.

“If it’s not too much trouble.” He smiles at you before turning to his newest friend. “I’m glad you came over.”

“Yeah, it was nice.” 

You smile and give them a moment alone by heading into the kitchen. Lottie follows you and offers to help somehow. She’s just happy that Bucky and Steve are back. 

Just as the microwave is done Bucky makes his way back out. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He takes a seat at the table and Lottie makes herself comfortable in his lap. She rested her head against his chest while he and Steve ate. 

The four adults and Henry are talking and joking around. You’re happy to see Duckie opening up around you a bit more. Although you know it has to do with Steve being here. 

“She’s asleep.” Bucky says softly while looking down at his daughter. “I’ll be back. I’m going to put her down.”

“I should be going. Thank you for having me.” 

“Of course,” you say to Duckie as you walk her out. “Remember you’re always welcomed here, for whatever you need.” 

“Thanks. Good night.” 

“I’m going to go back home too.” Steve says before giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“How convenient.” You murmur loud enough for Steve to hear.

He rolls his eyes but heads out anyway and offers to accompany Duckie back toward the main compound building. 

Upstairs, Bucky sets Charlotte down and then helps Henry get settled for the night. 

You’re writing something down in your notebook as Bucky walks into your room and settles down next to you . He’s watching as you continue your writing with a smile.

“What’s that smile for?” You ask without looking up.

“I’m glad that I could be home instead of out on that mission.” 

“We’re glad you’re home safe too.” You finally finish writing and set the notebook down before turning all of your attention to him. “What do you think about the end of August?” 

“For what?” 

“For the wedding. It would be before school starts and warm enough that we could have an outdoor weddingng.” 

Bucky smiles and nods. “That would be great.” 

“How about a small wedding?” 

“That could work.” 

“Alright,” you lean in and kiss him. “Let’s plan a wedding.” 

Ch. 36

Permanent taglist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10 

@nalny5 

@Sturchling 

@angywritesstuff 

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions 

@almosttoopizza 

@littleseasiren 

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

@kandis-mom

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@braveclementine

Series taglist:

@buckystevelove

 @vicmc624 

@just-someone11

@sjsmith56 

@emily-roberts 

@spencerriedisagorgman

@superduckmilkshake 

@samfreakingwinchester

@lofaewrites

@enchantedbarnes

@callsign-athena

@broadwaybabe18

@saranghaey 

@viperchick47

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

@da-pimp-river-niall

@ozwriterchick

@jenn-f

@rebel-soldat

@therealwritersblog

@alyroseking

@samlworld

@witchybabel

@capswife

@oceaniamadness

@queenie32

@buckybarnessimpp

@multifandom-girlie

@joliver1328

@noonespecial90

@mega-kittyglitter-1

@pumpkin-babydoll

@imaginexred

@olipiaa

@zuri-767-666

[formulapookie]

🦂🌊

Don't speak just feel bezzetti, 2.1 k words

smut under the cut

There must be something like 35 degrees in this god forsaken room right now.

The smell of sex and Bez’s cologne is filling up Cele’s nostrils, making him dumb. Well, dumber than he already is.

He's been on edge for what? Two? Three hours maybe? Maybe even more, he  doesn’t fucking know.  The only thing he knows is he needs to cum, needs to have his release or he’s he’s going to go fucking mad.

Bez smells so good, sounds so perfect, everything he does or says get him more and more aroused. 

“You’re so good Celin, so so good, behaving so perfectly for me, only for me yes?”

Cele nods, hes so fucking hard he wants to cry, he needs Bez to make him cum, then he wants to feel the older inside, again, until he can’t even say his name anymore.

His senses are enlightened, multiplied a hundred times, each little movement of Bez’s hand on his cock feels like a hundred degrees more rising in his stomach.

He moans louder when Bez presses into his slit, making his back arch and his eyes water more.

“Don’t lose control Celin, keep being my good boy, and I promise I’m letting you have a nice reward at the end”

Cele nods again, he needs it.

Needs to cum as much as he needs to breathe, maybe even more than that.

He feels Bez’s lips on his neck, so fucking hot, he leaves a bruise there, Cele bets he’s full of them by now, that sensation is the only thing keeping him from detaching from reality.

“Celin, are you still with me?”

Cele nods again, moaning at Bez’s movement, his thigh twitches under Bez’s attention, and the older uses that weakness to place a hand there, his stupid long and hot hand keeping him still.

“Don’t. Move.”

Cele wants to beg, needs Bez to fucking act on his delayed orgasm now, because he wants to cum. 

“Wish I could see your eyes now amore, crying from this, so full with need I would give you everything you ask for”

Cele makes a muffled sound, he wants that too, wants it so much it hurts.

He can’t touch, see or speak, he can just hear, smell and feel.

In all honesty this situation is his fault, he decided to get Bez jealous, he was the one who basically flirted with the barista, he went and glued himself to Pecco touching and giggling at his muscles.

It’s only fair Bez chose this as a punishment for his actions.

He moves his fingers, well at least he can move them, the bloodstream hasn’t been stopped completely by the pretty red ropes tying his arms together behind his back.

The ropes feel hot against his skin, he’s sure he’ll have marks from them as soon as he gets them off.

He’s sat kneeling on the bed, his abs are tight, tensed up, he knows Bez must be liking the view.

He wishes he could see it, but the blindfold is too fucking thick in front of his eyes, he can’t even see a little bit of light through it.

Bez has been touching him for forever now, after fucking him and filling him up, he can feel his boyfriend’s release still inside him, a unholy squelching sound every time he moves slightly.

Bez kisses the corner of his mouth, still never stopping his strokes.

“You want to cum I bet”

Cele nods once again, he can’t even fucking talk with that fucking gag ball he’s got, he’s just drooling around it, getting it wet and shiny.

“Like your dick when I tease too much” Bez had said at the view.

“I don’t think you deserve it yet now do you? I’m really really upset by the little stunt you pulled today, you know”

Bez stops his movements, Cele presses his legs together for a bit of friction but bets slapped on his thigh.

“No no bimbo, you can’t do anything, do I have to tie your pretty thighs too?”

No no no no he might just die if this shit happens now.

He shakes his head, he just wants his release, wants to beg for it.

“If I take off the blindfold will you behave?”

Cele nods, he’s been doing that an awful amount of times now, he needs to look at Bez in the eyes, maybe he’ll take pity, maybe he’ll let him cum.

Or maybe he will just look at him and make him needier without actually giving him anything.

Both options are really attractive.

“Ok then, I’m taking it off, you deserve it”

Bez’s fingers dance around the string tying the blindfold for as much as two seconds before pulling it and letting the fabric fall, finally letting Cele see a bit of the room around him.

It’s night, but there’s a soft light from the bedside table and the moon shining through the window so he can actually see Bez’s expression, even if it gets him a bit to gain back his sight.

“Oh Cele now you can look at yourself, so pretty for me” Bez takes his chin between his fingers and turns him to face the mirror.

He can’t lie, he’s hot like that.

Black hair disheveled and messy, dry tears at the corner of his eyes, drooling around the gag ball and his dick hard in Bez’s hand.

“You’re so beautiful bimbo, I would’ve let you cum hours ago if you didn’t act like a slut at the party, you know that right? But I think now you’ve earned it”

Cele tries to get out a “please” but with the gag ball on it only comes out a muffled sound, making Bez smirk.

“Let’s do this, since you behaved so good when I took off the blindfold you can cum twice, ok?”

Cele can’t even nod this time because Bez gets his hand around his dick again and strokes.

“I’d say the first just with my hand and the second one while I fuck you”

It’s not even a question, Bez knows Cele will like it, knows he wants it bad.

The older shifts to be directly behind him, he can feel the hard on pressing on his back, Bez’s lust filled eyes staring at his figure in the mirror.

He starts kissing at his collarbone, Cele forced to look at himself as he crumbles under Bez’s touch.

His boyfriend resumes his movements around his dick, slow, calculated ones, each dragging him closer to an orgasm he’s been chasing for way too long.

He can see that damn “12” tattooed on Bez’s ring finger, and seeing it wrapped around his cock makes him feel owned.

“If you look away I’m stopping bimbo, so if I were you I’d look at myself”

It’s filthy, but so good, degrading in a way that gets Cele hot under his skin. He moans again when Bez passes a thumb on its head, shivers all over his body.

The older sucks a hickey on his neck as his strokes quicken, his hand working faster and faster to get him off.

“Be good bimbo, cum for me, cum all over my fist”

Something that sounds vaguely like “Marco” comes out Cele’s mouth before he arches his back and finally comes, hot white liquid flowing out his dick like a fountain, he’s never came this hard before, he’s rolled his eyes back, he can feel electricity in each of his limbs, his brain is completely empty, just pure pleasure filling every inch of his body.

“Fuck I didn’t think you could cum that hard look at you, you’re still leaking eh, look how much you had in you”

Bez hasn’t stopped smirking since he took off Cele's blindfold, probably he’s been doing that since before even.

Bez’s fingers are completely coated with cum, white and glistening, and he’s already thought of a way not to waste it.

“Gonna fuck you now yes? You behaved well but I'm still angry by your little act from before, so you’re gonna keep that little toy in your mouth mh? So you are not so loud when I fuck you stupid”

Cele begs with his eyes, to please please please let him free to speak and scream his name.

“I love that you think looking at me like that will get me nice Celin, but it won’t work tonight, you actually have to face the consequences of your actions, so maybe next time you will think twice before acting like that”

Bez puts a hand on his back, he’s fucking hard again, he wants to cry.

“Spread your knees, good like that”

Cele barely manages to follow the order Bez is pushing two cum-coated fingers inside, spreading him way more than necessary, this is just a way to remind Cele he has no power in this, every ultimate decision is up to his boyfriend.

“You’re gonna take me so well aren’t you? Would you take the others too like this? The barista maybe?” Cele shakes his head, Bez adds a third finger and finds his prostate, but Cele knows he can’t cum until he’s been fucked and Bez gave his permission. “Or Pecco? You seemed so interested in his arms today, you were clinging to him, if you needed attention so bad you could’ve just begged me to fuck you like very other time, instead you had to act like that and now look, you’re being punished”

Cele’s entire body shivers, he wants to get fucked so hard he can’t think anymore, not even about the gag still in his mouth.

He moans again and looks up meeting Bez’s gaze in the mirror.

“You want to see how beautiful you look when I fuck you? I’ll show you”

Bez gets a hand tangled in cele’s hair, tugging at them slightly and making sure he has to look in the mirror.

He aligns his dick with the younger’s hole, which by now is all pink and spent.

“Perfect” he whispers before pushing inside, burying himself deep already at the first thrust, leaving no time for Cele to focus that he’s already pounding him in the mattress, holding his head up by his hair and using his other hand to squeeze his ass.

Bez is nice, usually. Romantic, caring, sweet, considerate. But right now he’s fucking him like he hates him, and God it’s hot.

Cele can’t look away, he watches himself get pathetically more and more aroused for Bez, absolutely wrecking him, his pace fast and deep, almost dirty, like it’s something to be done in a great rush and secrecy.

“You look good like this, you know? Crying and moaning under me. Might have you do it more often amore”

Cele is so fucking sensitive, at everything. Words, touch, thrusts, sounds.

So when Bez groans directly beside his ear it’s really not his fault if he almost comes, and it’s really not his fault when he gets on the edge again once his boyfriend calls him beautiful again.

Once Bez starts kissing at the nape of his neck he feels like he could never ask for something better in his life.

He’s being fucked senseless, yeah, seeing stars at every thrust, but the kisses are tender, loving, possessive in a sweet way.

Cele thinks about Bez’s tattooed finger curled around his neck, branding him like a property, and he’s on the verge again.

When Bez starts losing the rhythm Cele finally knows he’ll cum soon, Bez likes filling him up when he just had his release, because he’s oversensitive and clenches around him in a way that makes the older go crazy for it.

“Fuck I love you Celin I love you”

It doesn’t take long from there, just a few more thrusts, and then Cele is coming again, just as much as the first time, untouched, moaning around the gag in the desperate hope Bez will actually pity him and take it off.

Luckily, orgasms get Bez vulnerable at his pleas, and he immediately removes the toy and lets it fall on the bed, letting go of cele’s hair and turning the younger’s head slightly just to manage to kiss him deeply, moaning in his mouth when he finally cums inside the boy.

For five minutes after that, neither speaks, they just calm their breaths down, Bez unties Cele’s wrists and arms are sore, reddish, itchy even.

Bez kisses all over his neck to say sorry if he’s been harsh, cele answering he was, but he liked that too, so there’s really no need to worry.

“You really looked hot with that thing, only downside I couldn’t kiss you” “Yeah, true” “Can we kiss now?” “Yeah of course amore” “You owe me all the kisses you didn’t give me while fucking me” “oh it’s a lot eh, I warn you” “I love your kisses. I don't care how many you give me, I just need them”

Bez smiles, pressing a chaste kiss on Cele’s lips then letting him get overwhelmed by the insane amount of kisses he deemed fit for that moment.

“Love you”

[utterlyotterlyx]

10:35

Ruhn Danaan x Fem!Reader

Summary - After throwing his weight around, Ruhn comes to you to apologise, but you have other plans.

Warnings - swearing, mentions of s*x, Ruhn being fed up with your crap but loving you anyway, angst, fluff

Gods.

Gods were you annoying. You pushed his buttons daily, teetering on the edge of driving him to madness before pulling him back with passionate kisses.

Gods did he hate you sometimes, but he loved you more than anything, more than anyone.

Especially when you were prancing about his place wearing nothing but a thong and one his shirts that barely fell past your ass cheeks. Usually Ruhn was delighted to come home to you, you'd usually be sat with Tristan watching Sunball and enjoying a few beers; he'd come up behind you and bury his head into the crook of your neck and inhale your scent before kissing your shoulder and jumping over the edge to settle in beside you.

He knew it was coming, your bold defiance, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Ruhn looked at his phone, frowning at your text exchange and wondering how it had gotten so heated. He had told you off, scolded you like a child for partying too hard with Bryce and neglecting your responsibilities. Ruhn knew better.

Everyone was allowed to let loose, to enjoy their shitty lives, Ruhn knew that better than anyone.

You hated being told what to do, it had taken so long for Ruhn to break that cycle in you, to idly agree to everything even if you didn't want to. Breaking that cycle had turned you strong and independent, you promised yourself that you'd never be controlled again. In public at least.

He hadn't meant it, he hadn't meant to belittle you and reprimand you, he certainly didn't mean to throw his title in your face and make you feel like you were worth less than he was. It had just gotten heated, and he hoped he could fix it before you truly believed that he felt that way.

So, when he entered the home that he shared with Tristan and Declan, and you, ready to apologise and fuck you so good that the exchange became a hazed memory, the last thing he ever thought he'd see was you dressed in the things you knew made him weak, sat beside Tristan in a glazed state with potent smoke curling around your mouth as you exhaled a grey cloud of mirthroot into the air.

The smile on you face was lazy, laced with complete relaxation, soft low giggles emitted from your lips, your lids were slightly squinted and your cheeks were swollen from past tears, flushed and tinged.

A bowl of popcorn was wedged in the space between you and Tristan, which was a good thing, because if it wasn't there Ruhn would have grabbed Tristan by the scruff of his neck and beat him into oblivion. The tv was set to a comfortable volume, Fangs and Bangs clear on the display, and the light illuminated your face, the small whisps of hair that had fallen from your messily thrown together updo, and the sports logo plastered to the front of that shirt.

Tristan noticed him first, that hazed giddiness that Ruhn knew all too well clear on his face, "Look who's here. It's none other than the Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae himself," Tristan drawled and you turned slowly, your senses dimmed and mind moving at five miles an hour.

Your expression was blank as you looked at him, scanned his ripped black jeans and black shirt, his hair was tied back with two thick slices framing his face, he tongued the piercing in his lip, and his stare would have made you feel uncomfortable if you weren't already on another planet entirely.

"Fangs and Bangs? Didn't realise you were into this crap, Tristan," Ruhn took a step toward you, hissing at himself when you abruptly turned back to face the tv, taking a handful of popcorn and shoving it in your mouth.

Tristan inhaled the mirthroot deeply, a cough catching in his chest before the smoke cloud spurted from his mouth, he wafted the smoke away from his face and Ruhn watched it rise to the heavens, "I didn't put this shit on. This is all, Y/N."

"Give me that," you held you hand out to him, Tristan delicately placed your shared pleasure between your fingers, "I'll have you know that Fangs and Bangs is perfect for high-time television," you blew a smoke cloud at Tristan's face and smirked, lying back into the comfort of the sofa, not caring where Ruhn went next.

You were furious with him. How dare he take a swipe at you for going out, and with Bryce of all people, when he spent many hours away from you partying through the night. How dare he talk about responsibility and throw his name around to grasp some form of submission from you.

The cushions shifted under a new weight, you were determined not to look at him, to not give in, but as soon as those calloused fingers found your thigh and squeezed, you were weak. Like putty in his hands.

"Sweetheart," he cooed to you, dragging his fingers up and down your bare thigh, making you regret wearing so little as his fingertips left speckles of fire hissing on your skin. "Please look at me," his voice was low and husky, he didn't want Tristan to hear his whispering pleads to you or forever be teased.

Shrugging his touch off of you, involuntarily shuddering at vacant spot where his hand lay only moments before, you felt your phone vibrate, the screen lighting up with Bryce's name.

"What's up?" Ruhn tensed, of course Bryce would swoop in and interrupt his shit attempts to apologise to you, "Yeah, he's here. I don't know. What? Now?" Ruhn faintly heard his sisters voice chattering away through the device, he noticed your frown turn into mischievous delight, "What a great idea, Bryce. Exactly what I need, I'll see you soon. Love you."

You put the phone down and sighed, "Out again?"

Smirking, you jumped up from the sofa and walked around the edge of the sofa where a bewildered Ruhn was staring up at you, "Yep. White Raven. Bryce is coming to pick me up so I better get ready."

Without another word, you sauntered from the room, leaving Ruhn with his angry swirling thoughts. Tristan whistled, pulling Ruhn's attention from the doorway you had just strutted out from, "This is what happens when you pull rank with the one person you know loves you for you and nothing else."

Twenty minutes had passed, Bryce had barged in and flipped Ruhn off with a death glare before pattering up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. They had listened to your hushed giggles and shuffling about on the floor above, turning toward the entry when the faint click of heels sounded against the bare wood.

There you were, clad in a skin tight black dress adorned by a thousand tiny crystals that shimmered in an array of shades when you hit the light at a certain angle. Pair that with a pair of knee high heeled boots, and you had officially succeeded in making Ruhn a needy worried mess. Your makeup was simple, radiant shimmers on your cheekbones and nose, eyeliner and long lashes, and glossed nude lips.

Bryce ran her fingers through your hair, separating any knots she found and fluffing it around your face, "Let's go. Fury and Juniper are waiting for us. Girl's night!" Ruhn's amber eyed sister, and one of your best friends, dragged you from the room without so much as a goodbye to the two males staring at them from in front of the tv.

The White Raven was thrumming with eclectic energy. Sweat evaporating and clinging to the air.

You couldn't remember what time you had left, you didn't know how long you'd be dancing. You didn't know how many shots Bryce had forced down your throat. You were just happy and free.

Ruhn had looked so desperate to touch you, those big pleading violet eyes screaming at you to look at him. You knew he had a lot on his plate, his father didn't exactly agree of your relationship but Ruhn had somehow been able to convince him that when the time came you'd be the perfect person to have beside him. It made you feel bad, he was just trying to protect you in a way, to secure your place beside him, and you'd pranced about in your underwear high as a kite before dressing up and heading out. Again.

Gods, you were so fucking stupid.

But you didn't let your regret show, you were too stubborn for that, a fact Ruhn knew far too well.

Bodies kept on bumping into you as the music became heavier, the bass louder, the drinks stronger. Bryce was holding onto you and swaying, muttering about how Hunt wouldn't be happy with her if she woke him up again. Apparently he'd had a long day. Just like Ruhn.

Running your hands through your hair and up to the sky, you felt arms wrap around your waist, that familiar nose and chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Spice and leather. Kisses peppered along your shoulder and his arms pulled you tighter into his chest, low growls flowing from his lips when people bumped into you.

The lights were low, slices of purple and blue flickering through the club, but you could faintly make out Tristan at the bar and Hunt swaying with Bryce. They'd crashed girls night.

"Sweetheart, look at me," he ran a finger up your arm, across your chest, and along your jaw, pulling your chin toward him, "There she is," he cooed, pushing your hair from your face so that he could really see you.

"What do you want, Ruhn? You've already crashed girls night," you huffed, folding your arms over you chest whilst the world continued to party around you.

You were never going to be able to refuse him, but you could at least make him grovel a bit.

Ruhn ducked his head, lowering it to meet your eye line, he was so intoxicating, everything inside of you screamed to reach for him, to drag him into a bathroom stall and fuck it all out.

"I'm so sorry," he told you, holding your stare, "I never should have gotten angry at you, I never should have tried to tell you what to do. We worked so hard to get you out of that headspace," he pulled you flush against his chest and tilted your head up, his breath fanned across your face, "I love you, Y/N. So. Fucking. Much." Ruhn was trying to control himself, you deserved an apology before he fucked you senseless and made you his over and over again.

"I had the worst day. My father is breathing down my neck right now, and I just want you safe and by my side for the rest of my life. It's stupid but I'm scared he'll try and take you away from me. Not like I'd ever let him but, I'm afraid he'll catch wind of the wild nights and think you're unworthy. You're not in any sense, you love me for me and I know nothing else matters to you, I know that. I'm sorry I let him get in my head, I'm so sorry I used my name against you, I wasn't thinking."

Those violet pools were desperate, glazed over and sad, and it broke you to see him like that.

"Ruhn," you pressed your forehead to his, brushing your nose against his, "I'm sorry too. I should have kept in mind how important this is to you. I'm sorry for being stubborn and trying to piss you off. I know you'd never want to make me feel small. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for."

"Ruhn-"

"Nothing," he hummed, pulling your face to his in a kiss you had shared so many times, full of so much love and yearning and hope that every day would be filled with them. "Plus, it was kinda hot seeing you in my shirt like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he laughed against your lips, deepening the next and relishing in the taste of you, "Let me take you home, Sweetheart. The things I want to do to you aren't to be heard by others."

Ruhn Danaan knew three things with absolute certainty:

That you were the most beautiful, fearless creature he'd ever encountered

That he couldn't wait to get you home and settle you onto his face

He knew that the morning would be the perfect time to grab that velvet emerald box from his sock drawer and promise to love you for eternity

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 33 Preview

There's a lot going down in the next chapter.

"Aren't you afraid?" Nat asked you. "Of Barnes? You could have killed him at that little meeting in the park."

Yes, you were scared of Barnes. Very much so. But the only person you'd admitted that to was Yelena. Steve had overheard you but in your defense, you'd thought he was in a coma and couldn't hear you. You steeled yourself to answer her because you weren't going to let anyone else know just how worried about Barnes you were.

"Steve will keep me safe," you told her meaningfully. "He'll keep all of us safe. The day in the park? We intended to kill him that day. If I hadn't panicked at the last moment..."

From the window behind Steve's desk, you could see the cars arriving. The screen of your phone showed it was 3:35 PM. The meeting would start soon.

"You did so well," Yelena picked it up from there. "You should have seen her, Nat. He had no idea who was she until she wanted him to know. I'm not sure I could have done that."

"Bullshit," you said, smiling. "You would have done a better job. And you had to deal with him because I froze."

"It's my job to protect you," Yelena reminded you. "Not the other way around."

A light tap at the door got your attention. Clint was stationed outside the office, neither him or Nat would allow otherwise. His gaze met yours and he crooked a finger at you.

Walking around the desk, you went to the door, walking out when Clint motioned you. Clint walked into the office and closed the door, leaving you in the quiet of the hallway with your husband. 

Smiling, you let him pull you into his arms. Steve was healing but he wasn't back to full strength yet. Still, he felt more solid and alive in your arms now. The blood-red tie stood out against the polished silver suit he wore. The scent of his cologne, of him, invaded your senses, made you wish you could stay here a while. 

Easing back, your stretched up to kiss his mouth and Steve took you off guard. His kiss was searing, demanding. He took your breath away, his kiss seeking and lusty. You tasted the need of so many nights when you couldn't make love, when you didn't know if you'd lose him. Your own need was just as strong and you rotated your hips against him, feeling the heated hard ridge you were hoping for.

"Stop," he whispered against your lips. "You keep doing that and I'll fuck you right here in this hallway."

You grinned up at him. "How much time do we have?"

Steve smiled. "Don't tempt me."

"It's almost time," you told him. "You've got this."

"Yes, I do." Steve's entire demeanor backed up his words. "And once this meeting is over, we'll have a better idea of where we go from here."

"You'll tell me everything, right?"

"I promised, didn't I?" Steve brushed a kiss on your forehead, his gaze locking with yours. "Stay in the office with Belova and Nat. If Clint wants you to move, you do it with no question. You understand?"

"I do," you told him, trying to fight back your fear. Your entire world felt like it was balancing on a knife's edge and you just wanted it to be over. To move on.

Steve shook his head, chuckling. "I'm not used to you being so acquiescent. I could get used to this."

"Don't," you told him. "Because I'm not always going to be so easy to get along with."

"At least you're honest," Steve said. He stole one more kiss that had your heart hammering against his. Every part of you was in knots right now. From tension, fear, and desperate lust. When he broke the kiss, his breath and yours came fast. "Let me get through this meeting... I need you so much right now."

Just as much as you needed him.

"Just make sure you're up for it," you said. "I want you too, but I'm willing to wait if that's what's best for you."

"You are what's best for me," he said with feeling.

It was then you spotted a tiny spot of your lipstick, smudged on the collar of his pristine white shirt. "Shit," you muttered, reaching to see if you could get it off. 

Steve caught your hand. "Leave it," he said. "I want Barnes to see it."

[b3achysurfer]

I really wanna talk about this scene where “Logan saves Ashlyn” because I really believe it’s more than just that

I’m gonna be referencing mostly episodes 34, 35, 43, and 44 just in case you want to do your own digging 😋!

for starters I kinda bugs me when people brush this whole scene off as ‘Logan saving ash’ because 3 things:

1.) Logan saving Ashlyn didn’t really feel natural! mans was allllll the way in the graveyard, he was scared, it was dark, and he didn’t have any prior experience with using guns. but he still somehow did it in 1 shot. I honestly feel like that bit was so that he can’t be excluded from the later celebration and so that him being left behind had a purpose.

2.) ASHLYN WOULDVE SURVIVED WHETHER OR NOT HE MADE THE SHOT!!!!! if anything we’d probably learn a lot more about the phantoms if Logan had never shot his gun.

3.) I feel like Logan making the shot was suppose to distract us from the important lore aspect we see during the scene. we already know red loves throwing in foreshadowing and small hints for us. Especially when these hints get covered by other scenes so that we only notice them after we get the new information and we re-read old chapters. We can see an example of this in the same episode when Taylor offers to go see why Aiden was screaming and Tyler quickly takes action instead and sends her upstairs. it’s obvious that going back outside was the more dangerous option which is why Tyler told her she shouldn’t do it. But at the time many people brushed this off as Tyler caring about his sister as much as any brother would, and a part of his ‘jock/I’m bigger and better than everyone’ attuide seeping through. then later on in chapter 49, we learn about Tyler’s promise to always take care of Taylor and their mom, and we see how their safety is always his priority even if it’s to much for him. Taylor’s frown makes a lot more sense after we get this context.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is that I think Logan saving ash was suppose to draw away our attention to the whole reason he was even able to get the shot in the first place.

Ashlyn is convinced she’s gonna die here and this is her last effort to live. So very strong emotion. But pay attention to her voice box thing. It’s black and has the red streaks around it.

The phantom immediately pauses, as if it understands her. Also, it’s aggression vanished as soon as she spoke. This being LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL HER pauses and starts to question her!! In some twisted way Ashlyn can communicate with phantoms, or at the very least they can tell there is also a connection between her and them. This is literally so important and it’s not talking about enough. Even though no one has ever tried speaking directly to the phantoms before this, I do think this trait only belongs to ashlyn. For starters we already know that she has the strongest connection to the phantom world, and she’s the only one who can actually hear them. Her parents also said that they saw the phantoms after ashlyn was born. This is important for later on.

The only other time we ever see the black text bubble is here when Logan is mad (chapter 42) his shadow has also changed to his phantom world-self. Notice that even though his actions are connected to the phantom there is no red streaks next to his text box?

The fight obviously shows again that they affect the real world because their emotions and phantom and blah blah. This is all stuff we know. But hear me out! View their actions as if they are part phantom.

Ashlyn’s commanding them to do something while feeling strong emotions. Her text box is black with the red streaks again. Just like it was during the scene that ‘Logan saves her’.

And just like the phantom, all of them freeze and their violent behavior disappears. The fact that it’s all in sync and they all stop immediately shows that they didn’t just stop because their friend told them to. They stopped because Ashlyn’s commands have some strength to them. And remember earlier when I said think of them as part phantom? It makes sense why her commands would work, because it’s frozen a phantom before.

AND LOOK!!!! THEY SOUND JUST LIKE THE PHANTOMS! The fact that this guy doesn’t react to that statement means that his organization already knows this. They already know that the kids are partly related to the phantoms. Ashlyn’s especially.

I guess this can split into two ideas:

1.) Ashlyn’s becoming part phantom the fastest. And I don’t mean that she’ll eventually become a full phantom but idk how else to phrase it. Her words can already be understood by phantoms and they have enough impact to confuse and stop phantoms in place. The phantom tilting their head at Ashlyn was kinda like ‘how did you do that?’ .

2.) Ashlyn’s connection gives her semi-control over phantoms. This could be a skill she has to develop over time but the fact that her words were able to break that main cast out of their anger and brought them back into reality shows that they CAN listen to her commands. Either she’s not strong enough yet to control real phantoms or she can only stun them, ash was still able to communicate with the phantom.

That scene is such an important building block that people just brush over. I just don’t see a lot of people talking about the fact that Ashlyn can talk/control phantoms in a way. Or maybe she can’t and all of this means smth else but it’s still so important.

Also before ppl jump on me for saying Ash would’ve lived w/ or w/o logan:

Aiden was literally two seconds away from getting to ash. Plus the phantom was stunned. We don’t know if this hesitation would’ve lasted long or not, but it would’ve been enough time for Aiden to crawl to the top of the roof or for Ashlyn to kick it away. Ashyln was also in shock though so I’m not sure she would’ve been able to do much. But if Aiden saw the phantom on her he would’ve went crazy bro. Do not touch his girl ❌🙅‍♀️❌ All jokes aside though, we definitely would’ve learn more about the connection between Ashlyn and phantoms if Logan didn’t shoot. Not blaming him or anything but I’m just saying.

ANYWAYS THATS ALL THANKS FOR READING!!

[cielles-random-vault]

ATSV CHARACTERS AT THE BEACH!!?!?!?!?!?!?!,

i just came (haha funny word) home from the beach and im hella exhausted but :3 it's been a while since i last posted smth "real" on here so there i go 🕺🏻

(apologies to @ukranianacearo im working on your request i promise my computer keeps dying and the heat make it hell to finish BUT we 🆙️ 🫡)

SO content :3 // headcanons only, miguel, hobie, both miles and peter b parker are included :D and indeed gender neutral reader,, enjoy 🕺🏻🫶🏼

also idk if that makes sense but reader is in a separate relationship with all the characters and slightly ooc everyone 🫡

☆ hobie is the one who proposed going to the beach and you'd be the only one who hyped him up. the hardest spidersociety's member to convince obviously being miguel, you ran to lyla to do so. (since he has a soft spot for her he said yes, not for fun but to watch on you and the others. (but he actually ends up having fun)

"come on, it'll be fun!plus, it would be a shame to not come since it's like 35 degrees outside, and it'd give you a well-deserved vacation"

+ he's the kind to throw you in the freezing water because he'd find it funny how you're mad at him afterwards (but you never stay mad at him for a long time because look at that man. he is a slut. (in a pretty way) + he's also the kind of boyfriend to carry you on his shoulders to like. idk what's that's called but like he'd have on his shoulders and fight another person on another's shoulders. (you would lose bc you didn't stop moving)

☆ miguel would be the grumpy kind for sure. he came there because he knew that'd make him happy and you know he can't help it when it comes to his sunshine <3 (guess lyla isn't his only soft spot X)) he would definitely hold you like a princess in the water and teach you how to swim if you don't know how to,, he'd even find it cute

(in a soft tone) "why do you want to go to the beach? to learn how to swim? OK i'll gladly teach you :D"

and then he'd just turn into the softest teacher ever bc it'd remind him of teaching his daughter. eventually you didn't succeed at learning how to swim, but at least you spent a very wholesome moment together :D

☆peter would be the crackhead dad XD i js feel like you'd be the one watching him and mayday and even help him teach mayday to swim :3 + he'd be like super hyper because going to the beach isn't something he does often bc of his spiderman job and stuff so :3

"what did you say?? you want to go to the beach with me and mayday?? YES PLEASE. ITS BEEN YEARS SINCE I HAD ANY FORM OF ENTERTAINMENT."

☆ 1610 miles would be so hype bc he never went to the beach before, so going with his partner for the first time? he sure is happy :D

"wait?!?!?! is this a kind of date? this is so cool!!!"

but then the heat would just make you too tired to actually swim so you'd just chill, like cuddles and stuff

☆earth 42 miles wouldn't be hyped at first because he's more of an indoors person, like to him going outside when it's already hot us unuseful

"don't you want to stay inside? not gonna lie, im a bit lazy to go out right now."

but he accepts, and he had more fun than he would ever admit

the two last ones seem hurried im sorry 😭😭😭

but :> hope you enjoyed!

please reblog it helps a lot with reach, please, and thank you!

[syrakhanistan]

signs of a coming War

((This will not make sense if you haven’t read the Stonefire Arc.))

//

35 seconds past 2310 hours, XX/XX/2010. Roughly one year prior to W-Impact Event. Special order of operation on behalf of the Incubator of the First Officio Assassinorum with the assent of the Warmaster of the First Officio Assassinorum.

Operation: Executed, successfully. Minimal casualties.

Side Objective: Executed, successfully. Minimal casualties.

Second Objective: Executed. Objective(s) confirmed. Assets involved to be debriefed; solution to be assessed and ascertained.

//

“Yo, Mel! Sorry for the rush briefing, and the somewhat-abrupt semi-kidnapping, but this job’s a good one, I promise… and it’s also an order from the top. We’re to be embedded into an independent international task force special forces unit comprising of American, Syrakhani, British, French, and Russian soldiers en route to an abandoned military complex within the violent disputed border region based on the salt flat made from the former Lake Chad, set between Cameroon, Niger, Chad and Nigeria.

I’m to be deployed in one squad, you’ll be deployed in another alongside your, ah, current comrade-in-arms, Oug’di al-Gawa’a (or whatever they’re calling themselves today). This special international task force is being deployed following reports of a known terror cell meeting with WMD specialists in the disputed, lawless area - the same fundamentalist terror cell responsible for those brutal attacks in Paris and London a year or so ago. This was originally enough for some level of intervention; however, this has since changed - as intel came in that the terror cell was under attack from a seperate terrorist organisation: the infamous ultranationalist zealots that’s been tearing most of Central Africa a few new ones. These guys, if anything, are more of an interesting threat - given that they are confirmed to have access to WMDs, and used them at least once (and were potentially involved in the supplying of the weapon used in the Hizawi tragedy).

However, while destroying terror cells and extracting important intel is certainly good for a laugh… I’m damn sure you can guess that you’re not just here to spray bullets. Our more specialized expertise has been requested, predominantly because we were in the area, for a seperate objective - direct from the higher-ups.

Your primary objective (as opposed to the secondary objective of turning terrorists to paste on the walls) is the location and extraction of a particularly important asset, who we can only refer to as Asset I. That’s an i, not a 1, friend. If you wanna be pedantic, call them Iota.

Neither of us are actually cleared to know what the details surrounding I actually are - but, somehow, the Asset was either captured or was simply, for some reason, located on-site at this facility. Therefore, the higher-ups need us to infiltrate with our assigned squads, and secure the Asset - ensuring no harm comes to them from either side of the battle. Once you have confirmed the asset's safety, and the special forces units have confirmed their own tasks, the independent task force will issue a command to allied Syrakhanistan Air Force and Navy units on standby to bomb the area to smithereens.

God is with us. Blessed is She.”

//

You are Mel Anna, formerly known as Three. You are a magical girl (formerly an unofficial hire before your exemplary performance landed you a true contract with the Sixteenth Officio Assassinorum), and you’re currently in free fall above a hostile combat zone following abrupt orders from your superior and erstwhile friend, Colonel Kiryu.

You've just jumped from a High Altitude Low Opening position from a modified Russian/former Soviet supersonic aircraft (the aptly named "Black Canary" for it's near-prototype status; an upgraded Tu-160 chassis built with prototype Tu-144 equipment, then further modified by American engineers before being... acquired... by Syrakhanistan), directly into anti-aircraft fire.

So much for taking advantage of two opposing enemies fighting each other - now both of the ground-forces of the terrorists were attacking you all, too.

Luckily - no pun intended - this was to be expected. As in, you'd already predicted this. Your powers from your wish (some powers of which you'd just activated with a small flash of light to help defend against the onslaught of firepower) allowed you to perfectly predict the future - often to either brilliant or terrible results, to the point that you'd been repeatedly advised to only use your primary wish-granted power only when given explicit permission from higher-ups.

This prediction was clearly enough to give some a sense of easy security. Your assigned co-worker and partner-in-crime, the ever-confusing Oug’di al-Gawa’a (commonly known currently as the more simple Ogawa; A shapeshifter and cloner by magical nature, wish unknown, and especially talented Callidus assassin currently contracted with the elusive Twentieth Officio, who has changed name (having previously been known as, among others, Ougi Kumahara, Di Mario, Kagali Ojigawa, Publius Maximus, and Gabriel bin Darra), history, and even flesh and mind several times over - in the short time you'd known them, let alone before your assignment together) was currently posing for an unseen camera while nearing terminal velocity. They noticed your gaze amidst the flak bursts and gave you a cheerful wave, much to your chagrin.

As you descended to the military facility built into the already corpse-ridden salt flats, you threw out a few of your personalised magical tarot cards towards your allies desperately attempting to maneouver out the way of the anti-air fire, the cards flipping in the air and turning into small shields of energy, protecting them.

"Deploy PWSS on my mark." You say over the comms as the wind rushes around you. "Mark".

Your equipment deploys, alongside the other members of the squad, activating into a quasi-wingsuit, quasi-parachute mechanism (you’d forgotten to actually ASK what PWSS even meant), allowing you to accelerate faster down to your destination but with more control, as well as to hit the ground in such a manner that you WEREN'T reduced to a splatter on the concrete.

You hit the ground with a solid thud, going straight into a forward combat roll, as the soldiers operating flak cannons on the rooftop of the complex turned to fight your incoming group.

A flick of your wrist, and cards from nowhere spin out, cutting the throats of several enemy combatants, while Ogawa swung around behind them, cloning instantly, each one holding weapons - knives, guns, even a machete - and carving a line across the rooftop.

The gunfire and missiles continued to stream away nearby, even as your squad regrouped after clearing the area.

You motioned towards a set of doors (the other set on the roof being left clear for either another squad such as Colonel Kiryu’s, or for exfil), and the group moved into the complex, slowly checking corners, clearing rooms, checking for mines and traps.

One set of doors turned into another, each corridor going on and on, each filled with an endless stream of enemies, flies to the flame that they were.

The hallways, the rooms, the floors, all of them began to blur together, a strange feeling lurking at the back of your mind.

Like, this place was a LOT bigger than it should have any right to be.

It was built into the flat salt of a former lake; surely such ground would be hard, and less than perfect for underground structures?

Yet it just kept going. Further and further you went, meeting each floor filled with more and more insurgents, more and more corpses, more wasted bullets and more wasted energy.

You’re glad you’d asked for the extra few Grief Seeds before the mission.

The deeper you went, ironically, the more lit up the halls were. Electricity seemed to be concentrating somewhere deep below, so power seems to have been rerouted to whatever, whoever, wherever this “Iota” figure was, or whatever cage they had been imprisoned in.

Of course, the enemy also become more and more entrenched as your team descended. Your equipment indicated that by the time you reached an impressively fortified bunker-like position complete with underground towers - somehow - you were close to nearly a few solid kilometres below ground.

That’s impossible, unless…

You motion to Ogawa, giving an old hand signal and pointing to one of your comrades, between hails of gunfire from the towers.

Ogawa looks confused for a brief moment, before confusion turned to concern as the Callidus performed the check on the soldier you’d motioned towards.

Ogawa nodded. Shit.

Somehow, the bunch of you had got caught inside a Labyrinth. Either that, or the Labyrinth had been built around Iota, or perhaps to contain Iota. A Witch, and a relatively powerful one, must have manifested here - or, if not fully manifested, then a Seed must have been used in some way.

The Kiss sigil burning black on the soldier’s exposed neck gave your theory enough credence to be wary.

You radio into your comms, praying that the influence of a Witch wouldn’t impact the hardened equipment you had.

“Daisy Hand to Siren, do you read? We’re confirming unknown-class interference close to the predicted location of Asset Iota. Confirm acknowledgement, over.”

“…tua… res… fi… ack…”

“Daisy Hand to Siren, repeat last, over.”

You tut irritably, ignoring yet another round of bullets fired your way.

…well, you tried.

“Ogawa! I need cover while I do my thing!” You shout between bursts of fire.

“Did you get—”

“Nope! But I’m gonna do it anyway, otherwise we’re gonna be up to our necks in shit at this rate, let alone whatever’s up with Iota - if the Asset is even still around.”

“…fine. But using that, it’s on your ass, you hear?”

You hear, alright.

As the rapid deployment of Ogawa’s shadows began to move forward into the enemy ranks, you close your eyes, and concentrate.

Breathing in, and out. You blink.

+ Predict where the Witch is. +

You project out to the abyss, your consciousness wavering, surfing along the very edge of the accursed realms between reality, searching for an answer.

Your predictions will always be correct. You will always get the answer that will occur.

Even if it’s a terrible one.

A feeling, a nudge, a scar opening, crackling of flames, laughter, the sky falls, beating heart, cruel knives, the dead live, seas of blood, a sick jokes, corridors endlessly fading into a pit of—

There. That one. But what did…

You shake yourself back into reality, discerning and paraphrasing what little you understood.

The Witch…

You look between the Towers, through the Maze that continued behind the enemy encampment, past the bullets -

There! You fling a single card—

“Got it!” Ogawa shouts, revealing themselves amidst the horde of clones, firing a single shot following the glowing trail your card had left.

Between the towers, past the camp, past the bullets, through the corridors, hitting the Door’s window.

A screech, like the rending of metal, before fading away, the breathless agony of another dead creature - whether a natural one or an old comrade, irrelevant.

The building’s doors didn’t have windows. Ironically, unlike most Witches that bury themselves within the depths of their Labyrinth, this one had created an endless loop of rooms, spreading itself thin to create a seamless world to trap victims in.

The labyrinth dissipated, the lines of enemy soldiers vanishing in mere moments. It appeared only a dozen odd insurgents had actually been in the building; but the Witch that had either imprisoned them, or had been employed by them, had made the enemy seem insurmountable.

The illusion shattered, you and your squad find yourself in a far more spacious but still all-too corridor-like room.

A room with doors, but in particular one rather bulky looking and rusty one.

As Ogawa passes by the few corpses, grabbing the lone Grief Seed that had fallen to the floor, you once again grab your comms equipment - only to be interrupted once more by the sounds of gunfire.

Ogawa pockets the Seed, and together with your surviving comrades, you take positions next to the door which the sounds were coming from.

“Anyone home? We could use a hand!” A familiar voice shouts behind the door between the combat noises.

Your expression softens, and, ignoring your team’s surprise, you unloosen the bolt on the door, letting your friend through.

The Colonel herself immiediately shuts it behind her, a grim look on her face. “Cheers, pal. ‘Twas getting a bit hairy.”

You nod to Ogawa to keep watch on the exit doors alongside the rest, while you help Kiryu out with her many, many wounds, as the two of you walk towards the clearly suspicious larger door while fixing up the comms equipment.

“—and, do you read? Do you read or not? Over.” The comms finally crackled back to life, the Field Commander’s excitable but determined tones coming through.

“Siren, this is Daisy Hands and Chairman, we read you loud and clear. Interference has been eliminated, and we have located the probable location of the Asset. Confirmation on how to proceed? Over.”

A chuckle. “Aha! Finally! You had me worried for a moment there - not sure why, mind.” Audible throat clearing, before - “Daisy Hands, your position is getting more dangerous by the moment; we have confirmed enemy reinforcements from both OPFOR groups, and much of your backup outside has been worn down. So I need you to listen closely, over.”

“Boss, it’ll be faster if you could get on with it!” The Colonel shouted irritably, long hair swinging from side to side.

“That’s former Boss, and current Field Commander, to you - Chairman. Now then…

The location of Iota should have a massive metal door, locked down nice and tight. However, there’s a knack to opening it - besides several tonnes of high explosive, that is.”

You… didn’t like where this was going.

“The door will only open with the confirmed death of a magical girl.”

There is a soft sigh, before the Field Commander cut off the comms.

…ah.

The Colonel and you exchange the smallest of glances - right before you both bring a weapon to one another’s throats.

“I outrank you, Mel. That’s just how it is.” Kiryu murmured angrily, blade steady.

“I still haven’t got what I became a magical girl for. I won’t die in such a miserable manner as this.” You respond, with an equal level of malice, no magical weapon or card in your hand - just a simple 9mm pistol drawn from your side in the fastest of motions.

There’s a brief moment of tense silence, only occasionally broken by gunfire.

Before being properly broken by an extremely agitated Callidus.

“What the FUCK are you two doing?!” Ogawa cried aloud, sprinting towards the two of you and rolling between your raised arms.

“Out of the way, Ogawa. Otherwise it’ll be your head we take.”

“Yeah, kid, whatever you’re calling yourself these days. Go back to your position, you’re outta line.”

“Head? What? What the hell are you talking about?” Ogawa shouted, refusing to budge.

“Goddamnit, we don’t have time for this—” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Ogawa, our new orders require the death of a magical girl to open the door.” The Colonel says, her eyes still on you.

Ogawa pauses. “Bodily death or soul death?”

The two of you hesitate, before you both look at the bemused assassin.

“Oh, screw this!” Ogawa shouts down at the two of you, before roughly shoving you both out of the way.

Before you can move, Ogawa has approached the hulking metal door, and produced a Very Sharp Knife; you recognise the brand, since you’d bought it as a birthday gift - straight from the forges of KilianInc, your personal favourite Swedish arms manufacturer.

Ogawa kneels down, while Ogawa remains standing.

Oh! That’s… will that work?

Ogawa swiftly decapitates the fleshy shadow clone, neck stump spraying viscera onto the door as the head rolls onto the floor.

There’s a few moments of tension, breaths held - before your prayers are answered, as metal began clanking against metal, the doors swinging open with a rough and screeching noise.

A noise only rivalled by the equally loud gunfire outside.

Without any hesitation, you three rush into the open bunker, while the remnants of your squad continue to fortify against the next enemy assault outside.

The location where Asset I was being held was, in a word, cramped. The brief hallway that contained the vault door quickly ended and abruptly interrupted your intrusion with wall after wall of expensive-looking electronics; servers, open laptops, entire sections with fuse boxes and nothing else.

There was barely any lighting in here, the only lights glowing a dim red - like that of an emergency generator - and occasionally seeming to flicker, and almost appearing to move deeper inside. A veritable sea of wires seemed to endlessly connect every port and cable, the floor packed with them, all running to the end of the bunker.

And, at the end of the bunker, lay your presumed target. A large cylindrical metal capsule, cold to the touch, with a jewelled engraving of a single letter:

I. Styled in a Roman numeral.

The flow of glowing lights and wires all seemed to be pointing to a small panel of buttons that lay next to the capsule.

Your curious gaze was broken by the sound of an explosion; the enemy was attempting to breach the room before the bunker. More gunfire, and the occasional grunt and scream.

You’re the first to move, rushing to the computer terminal, panel, whatever it was, while signalling the other two to give cover while you inspect it.

There are a whole lot of buttons on this surprisingly small computer… thing… and none of them have labels - or, at least, labels in any language you actually understood. Some of the symbols even hurt your brain trying to look at them for some reason - but you get the feeling that the ominously glowing one on the right hand side of the machine is your objective.

In for a penny, as they say…

You press the button.

There’s a pause, before all the few lights in the room shimmer, before following a pattern and seemingly moving from electrical thing to thing all the way to the button you pushed. Finally, after some whirring and mechanical humming, something begins to stir.

The capsule slowly creaks open, and something - someone - flops out unceremoniously; falling to the ground onto their face, sticky and cold liquids gushing out from the machine and covering them and the floor with a fleshy-stinking ooze.

The person, presumably Iota, is utterly soaked in the freezing cold liquid paste; however, they’re also covered head to toe in some sort of metallic armour, with only their mouth being uncovered, and a dense band of red painted metal acting as a blindfold. Their armour seemed to act like an extension cable, given how many more wires seemed to be popping out from them. Armour that…

Appeared to be underneath what seemed to be a girl’s bear onesie. Somehow not soaked.

You’re somewhat taken aback by all this, even as the gunfire and combat grows louder outside.

“Mel! Whatever’s going on over there, get it done fast! We’re up to our necks in shit over here!” The Colonel shouted between bursts of semi-automatic fire.

You barely hear her, as you continue to look down on the Asset.

All this… for a sticky dead girl?

Oh, right - she might not be dead. You kneel down, and try to search for a pulse, or something. Difficult to do beneath layers of metal seemingly surgically attached into her.

She isn’t breathing. Nothing coming from her mouth or nose, shit.

Wait, there’s something! Her mouth is, well, full. Which is odd. Maybe it had more of the ooze? Trapping her airways, maybe?

You grunt, ignoring the stench and texture, before shoving your fingers into the girl’s mouth.

You know that feeling. This object. You carefully hook your fingers around it, and pull.

Of course.

The Soul Gem comes out from her mouth, wet with saliva and gunge, the soft hue and glow already slightly illuminating the room. And that almost biological feeling of it, that notion that the jewel is alive, an artificial beating heart, sets off a feeling of tension in you.

As you hold it in your hand, another explosion nearly deafens you from outside.

“FUCK! They’ve breached! Hold the line!” Ogawa screams.

“MEL, GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE AND DO SOME KILLIN’ ALREADY!” The Colonel commands you, her voice audibly concerned.

Even as super-soldiers empowered by the powers of aliens, even as highly trained professionals - you were by no means Gods. Sure, you could kill dozens with your bare hands; hundreds with the right equipment; but there are only so many bodies you can bring down before their weight brings you down.

So, following the Colonel’s command, you place the Soul Gem gently onto the ground, and move to grab your rifle—

There’s a flash, a surge of electricity. The bunker seems to come to life in a single moment - a single moment where you feel your sleeve being tugged.

“Killing is not something that comes naturally… not something that SHOULD come naturally. Those who kill lose part of themselves, and gain something that no human should ever be comfortable with. Makes us even less human than we already were. I do not enjoy killing; it is a necessary evil, something I do because I must.

Because death has brought me new life on this day.”

The voice, quiet, barely a whisper, pierces your mind, speaking eloquently but eerily. You look down to your quarry, and see the previously angelic look of someone fast asleep being replaced with a creepy grin, skin stretched to the human limit.

Another surge of electricity - and it’s now that you begin to hear the screams.

“What the… fuck…?” You hear the Colonel audibly exclaim.

You manage to break off your state from Iota’s salivating smirk, and look to the entrance of the bunker.

It was absolutely soaked in blood. As you watched, the previously shot down corpses of enemies were now being joined en masse by new corpses. Seemingly from nowhere, enemies began to explode left and right, spraying blood and pieces of flesh around the room.

It’s then that the dots connected in your head:

Whatever Iota’s powers were, they were causing electrical surges around you; pulses of power, continuing to flow from her barely functioning body. And those same pulses were also being sent to the enemy - specifically, their own equipment: radios, earpieces, flashlights, phones. Anything that could be accessed with electricity - perhaps with radio frequencies, or wifi, or infrared, or SOMETHING - was now effectively being turned into a bomb.

As you gazed in awe at her handiwork, the girl herself began to stir, gripping onto your arm to steady her feet. She sniffs the air, looking around - or, perhaps, the motion of looking around, given the heavy metal blindfold.

“My thanks.”

She says softly, clearing her throat, her words still barely escaping her lips. She manages to find her footing, before slowly moving forwards, the trail of wires somehow following her every move. You follow in her footsteps as she approaches the confused Colonel.

“Ah. Ah. Resting. Besting. Testing. Testing. One, two. Yes. Good.” She begins. She speaks oddly, her accent stilted, like she knew how to speak but didn’t usually speak with human flesh. You… don’t know quite how to easily put it; if a baby was born instantly with speech abilities and the full knowledge of the lexicon, this would be like that.

Sort of.

The Colonel nods to the Asset. “Greetings. We have orders pertaining to your extraction.”

The girl listens, pausing, and nodding. “Acknowledgement. Confirmation: Colonel Kiryu, Sixteenth Officio. Yes slash No?”

The Colonel blinks a few times, taken by surprise. “Y-yes? That’s me?”

“Confirmation - Colonel Kiryu, extraction of Asset Iota: Iwakura Lain. Package is in transit”.

You blink a few times, stopping in your tracks.

Lain… Iwakura?

Your line of thinking is made concrete by a similar expression flashing across the Colonel’s face, head quickly turning to yours, the briefest of head shakes directed to you, before returning to silence.

Iwakura. The same surname of the girl you’d killed on your last mission as a (barely) human.

Iwakura. A dynasty of magical girls, a practical family lineage.

Iwakura. The surname of someone extremely powerful related to computers that Colonel Kiryu had explicitly told you to avoid.

Your only hope is that you hadn’t spoken yet nor could she see your face. If she could identify the Colonel so easily, then you just had to stay as quiet as a mouse.

+ Ogawa, no time to explain. Whatever you do, don’t speak to me. The Colonel can explain later. +, you project to Ogawa.

A brief look of confusion on Ogawa’s face flickers, while the Colonel appears to be explaining the situation to Lain, before clearing and a small nod responds to you.

“Alright, Asset Iota…” The Colonel begins before being interrupted.

“Assent: Identity is Lain Iwakura. Polite: Feel free to call me Lain. Good?” Lain speaks, her voice growing more normal with every spoken word.

“Lain, then. We’re on the move to the extraction point. Please be careful, there are some steps.” The Colonel said, motioning her head to the approaching staircase.

“Request: Could your subordinate/subordinates lift me? Body… is still malfunctioning.” Lain says, still almost mechanical, but with the smallest hint of humour.

The Colonel stops in her tracks, giving a small chuckle. “A… piggyback ride, then? I mean… Eh, if that’s your order.”

She nods to Ogawa, who blinks a few times, shrugs, and lifts the girl up. Not quite a piggyback ride, but still, Lain appeared content.

Even as the four of you moved upwards through the building, gunfire appeared to sporadically begin in earnest only to swiftly end with barely audible puffs of electrical explosions. Lain, her wires still trailing slowly behind the group, appeared to continue to be guarding the squad with her powers.

You nod to the Colonel, and signal towards your comms equipment. She acknowledges the motion, and you turn it on.

“Siren, this is Chairman. We have extracted the Asset, proceeding to Extraction Point B on the roof of the facility.” The Colonel spoke over the comms.

“Chairman, Siren acknowledges. Asset already made contact the moment you completed your objective; she speaks highly of your actions this day, particularly of your willingness to perform your orders. Over.”

“Willingness, sir?”

“…To kill Daisy Hands like that in order to open the magically sealed door, that was brave. Your commitment to the commands of your superiors is commendable. Her sacrifice will not be in vain. Over.”

The whole group stopped at this. Ogawa in particular seemed to almost be holding in laughter.

“…Roger that. Will continue towards extraction and explain during debriefing. Over and out.” The Colonel spoke softly, before reaching over to you and turning off the comms.

The group continued to move, with you guarding the rear, but there was a notable silence.

Naturally, Lain broke it.

“Apologies, but… Was I out of line in some way?” She queried pointedly to the Colonel.

“N-no, Iwakura-san, not at all. I was just surprised that you had already made contact with HQ.” Kiryu responded diplomatically.

“…Iwakura-san, eh? Not Lain?” The wired girl spoke, almost disappointed. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

There’s a barely noticeable undertone of joking irony in her words. Did she…?

She probably did, you think. You did have all the comms equipment on you; and the other two also had their own. Given that she hadn’t blown you up yet as an unauthorised set of feet following behind, she must have known you were a friendly.

But did she know you were her youngest sister’s killer?

If she did, why hadn’t she killed you yet? Was Kiryu’s intuition wrong?

You suppressed a sigh, and continued watching the group’s back - not that it was strictly necessary, given Lain’s seeming omniscience, with more than enemy exploding just as they turn a corner, moments before you shoot them yourself.

Finally, you all reach the final flight of stairs, and Ogawa pushes the heavy-set metal doors to the roof open.

Extraction comes in the form of a single experimental prototype, the Bell Boeing V-2905 Kite, a heavily armoured and rather early-stage quad-rotor aircraft designed especially for movement under harsh conditions. You’d only seen one once, refuelling when you’d been posted as a security detachment for a diplomatic summit in Nigeria - one of Syrakhanistan’s own (albeit stolen originally, but since heavily modified) mechanical works.

Out from the back steps a surprising figure, a lone girl with a messy bob of brown hair (although it appeared to be going grey rather early) in full dress uniform, one arm sticking out of a military jacket covered in medals.

“Ah! Bloody well done.” Admiral Torresa von Akiyama, Field Commander of the operation, and former Warmaster of the Sixteenth Officio Assassinorum, says with a small curtsey, before saluting properly with her sleeved hand, her loose one still by her side. “I hope that my agents didn’t toss you around too much, Iwakura-sama?”

Akiyama always was an oddball, at least if the reports from Kiryu and others were accurate; a magical girl who barely ever used her powers, who shied away from overusage of Contracted assets in preference from basic materiel operations, and who apparently never truly warmed to the role of Warmaster - to the point that when she was offered a ‘temporary position’ by the Primus inter Pares, she accepted without any hesitation.

A temporary position she’d now been occupying for a relatively long time for a Mahou Shoujo.

Saying that… ‘Iwakura-sama’? From a(n albeit former) Warmaster?

“Confirmation: Colonel Cornelia Kiryu and her two subordinates performed admirably under fire. Commendation: recommended!” Lain responded, almost cheerfully. “Irritation: I’ve told you before that the honorific is unnecessary when we speak the lingua franca. Especially since - Truth: I am no more Warmaster than you anymore.”

“Ah, pish-posh. Quartus and Dammekos both still sing your praises, and you know how much SHE has come to rely on—” The Admiral chuckled, before stopping herself. “Ahem. Let’s keep up appearances, eh?”

She turned away from Lain, and back to the three of you.

Three.

Her gaze turned to a scowl. “Wait, the fuck…?”

“Pardon?” Lain responded, still blindfolded and almost hopping to turn around, nearly tripping over a loose wire before Kiryu caught her.

“How…?” Akiyama began, her hair blowing in the breeze, right before being interrupted by the sound of artillery fire.

“I’ll explain on the ride back, Commander. I suspect we should exfiltrate the AO as soon as possible.” Kiryu spoke cautiously.

The Admiral’s gaze hardened, before relenting. “Alright. Yeah, alright, you’re right. Let’s go. And besides - I’ve got a little treat lined up for the bastards still crawling around down there. Although, before I forget…”

She pauses, and turns back to Lain. She places her hand on the nape of her neck, seemingly fidgeting, searching for something. A finger flicks open a piece of metal, and she appears to type in a code.

With a small puff of smoke and the grinding of unseen gears, the armour that Lain had been wearing as well as the Bear Oneside fell apart like a crumbling cookie, the metal disintegrating upon impact with the ground.

She’s even shorter than she looked before without all the accoutrements. Skin as pale as snow - no, paler, even colder than that of the most frozen Siberian plains in the Motherland - and soft brown eyes that seemed to never focus on anything at all. Her hair flickered a little in the breeze, still sticky from the cryogenic fluid and from sweat. All she wore under the armour was a simple white nightgown—

And, uh, yet another Bear Onesie…? Is that one of her powers? Can she just teleport those in?

You’re distracted by the Onesie, and completely miss her unfocused and wary brown eyes coming to rest upon your form hiding at the back of the group.

Your eyes meet.

There’s a moment, just a small moment, where you feel something on your back, crawling, nails skating along your spi—

“Let’s go, people! AO’s gonna get real hot soon!” Akiyama called out, breaking your gaze and grabbing Lain by one arm while Kiryu grabbed the other.

The smaller girl gave a funny little yelp at this, being unceremoniously picked up and thrown into the VTOL aircraft, much to Ogawa’s amusement.

You’re… not quite in the joking mood, as you hop into the aircraft, noting a nod of acknowledgement from Kiryu as you take a seat near the exit - as far from Lain as possible.

The aircraft quickly lifts off, seemingly quite blasé about the incoming RPG and machine-gun fire. As the complex and salt lake begin to shrink into the horizon from behind your tinted glass window, Akiyama waves to the group.

“Hey-ho! Just gonna call something in. I’d suggest averting your gaze from the windows for juuust a moment!”

…

Somewhere in the Red Sea. North of Socotra.

“That’s what I’ve been waiting to hear.”

“Receiving authentication code…”

“Authentication: 6 dash 7 dash 4 dash 2 dash 5. Authenticate?”

“Code authenticated. Read as Crimson. Authenticate?”

“Authentication confirmed. God is with us, and she will not be as merciful as we are.”

…

“Three, two, one - impact, now!” Akiyama shouted, right as—

The sky fell.

Lights, shattering, stars falling one by one in a crescendo of colours burning the backs of your eyes, even trying to not look directly out the window.

You’re forced to turn and look, both out of curiosity, and because it seemed pointless since it was so bright anyways.

Hundreds - no, thousands, of burning lights showered down on the distant salt lake. Dark red, like drops of blood in the shower (only far, far swifter), each one coursing through the sky with a sound akin to thunder, making impact and liquifying wherever it hit. The cloudy sky you had fallen from merely hours ago was physically disrupted by the waterfall of blood-red artillery fire.

If you could call… that… artillery. You’d heard reports about the end of your war, a great calamity befalling Elbrus leaving naught but a smoking crater… but this felt even worse than that. Like a dragon had been woken from a slumber, fire beating from it’s ancient chest for the first time in millennia.

What had Akiyama used…?

“Ya-hoooo!! Now THAT’S fuckin’ awesome!” The girl herself screamed aloud, practically wiggling behind her seatbelt. “Fuckin’ hideous, so wonderful and beautiful!”

…maybe now wasn’t the time.

“Ah, Akiyama, Admiral-Sir. You wanted an explanation of—” Ogawa began, before being bluntly shushed by Kiryu.

“Hush. Let her have her fun.” Kiryu spoke cockily, seemingly enjoying her former Boss’s little moment.

You wonder how Lain was rea—

Oh, Gods. She’s still looking at you.

…

The quadcopter finished it’s final approach, landing softly and quietly on the helipad of the skyscraper.

It’d taken a few hours - and one rather excitable Admiral - to reach the place that Akiyama was apparently ordered to bring Lain for extraction. Not exactly the most close point to the AO, but you’re sure Command has it’s reasons.

The large metal tower was a newer development in the older city of Tébessa, near the Borma Exclusion Zone, and decidedly out of place amongst the far more proper-looking and even Ancient architecture.

All for the sake of ‘progress’, as always, in Syrakhanistan.

Her pet project - and, speaking of Her…

A sight you weren’t sure you’d ever see again struck you as the leaders of the squad began to leave the aircraft (you and Ogawa were on maintenance duty, as well as checking on the pilot) . In the corner of your eye, you saw a single pale-haired woman was relaxing against a wall near the entrance of the helipad, uncharacteristically content as appearances go.

Quite the contrast from the immediate salutes from Colonel and Admiral alike…

…and the sprinting running hug from Iwakura.

“H-hey! Iwakura-san, it hasn’t been that long…!” The First, Warmaster Hazuki, laughed warmly in response to the gratitude from Lain.

“Hazuki-chan~! It’s always too long to see you, you know!” She responded, a more pleasant grin on her face (as compared to the one from earlier). She let go of Hazuki’s broad shoulders, and gave a more proper - if somewhat mocking - salute.

“…well, as long as you’re happy, then so am I, Iwakura-san.” The First said, a small snort of suppressed laughter coming out near the end, luxurious silver hair moving like waves with each slight motion.

She cleared her throat, and approached the Admiral-Colonel pair. “Akiyama-san, it’s been a while.” She greeted them, shaking the smaller girl’s hand. She looked at the Colonel, smiling: “Ah, and… Colonel Kiryu, right? Is Jyubey still giving you the run-around?”

The Colonel shook her head, not wishing to bring the ire of the loud-mouthed Incubator to bear. “Ah, he’s always good, sir. I’m… honoured you remember me.”

“Naturally! We’re all comrades-in-arms, here.” The Warmaster spoke cordially, smiling. “Speaking of which, weren’t there more of you on the aircraft?”

Akiyama nodded, while Lain’s interest perked up, and the Admiral moved to wave us over, yet—

“Ah, I think they’re busy with work in there right now! My apologies.” The Colonel spoke suddenly, interrupting the Admiral.

The entire helipad seemed to freeze in that moment.

Admiral Torresa’s gaze seemed to rapidly move towards Kiryu, her often comedically happy expression swiftly turning to a far darker look, something like that of a predator finding a lone mouse.

Lain, for her part, simply stopped, blinking a few times. Only the smallest flicker of a scowl brushed against her eyebrows, a mere twitch.

Kiryu, for her part, stood firm. You’re unsure why she’s taking the brunt of this for you - after all, Lain could have already killed you half a dozen times over, and the Warmaster had probably already forgotten about you.

You’re… not even surprised by Ogawa’s reaction.

Finally, Hazuki herself stood there, her hair flowing in the wind. Expression stoic, frozen. A pause, before a blink, and a nod.

“I see. Well, it’s… good for them to attend to their duties. Save the grandstanding for the higher-ups, I suppose. A work-ethic we should all aspire to.” Hazuki broke the silence, one of her hands brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.

The other hand - well, how you hadn’t noticed is odd, but… She didn’t appear to have the other hand. In her entire other arm’s place was a massive metallic thing. A heavy metallic glove or gauntlet of some kind, reflecting a radiant gold in the Tunisian sun, with claws the size of katanas on each finger.

How…? You could have sworn she hadn’t been wearing that when you touched down on the helipad.

“Well! No matter. I trust your judgement on this, Cornelia-san, since they’re your subordinates.” Hazuki spoke with a light chuckle, her clawed hand waving and gesturing gracefully in the air as she spoke, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Akiyama seemed to have calmed down, expression becoming soft once more, while Lain nodded silently.

“My thanks, Warmaster. It’s been a long day for them, after all. I think a bit of recreational cleaning and boot-polishing is a fine enough reward, rather than chatting niceties with us old folks.” Colonel Kiryu responded, still firmly holding her ground.

+ You owe me for this. + She spoke telepathically to you.

+ I… never asked. + You respond.

+ The fact that you didn’t ask is what makes this even more worrying and favour-requiring, fool… + Kiryu indicated, somehow scowling at you telepathically while keeping a silent straight face.

You nod to nobody in particular, a silent response.

“On that note, I believe the Admiral - ah, I suppose Field Commander is more accurate for the moment - is to debrief you before your return to Jyubey. Myself and Lain will now begin extraction.” Hazuki continued, slowly turning away from Akiyama and Kiryu, alongside the Aircraft, and waving goodbye with her gauntlet-covered arm, while Lain followed suit.

“My personal thanks for all your hard work today. Oh, Lain, do be a dear and say thanks to your rescuers too, eh? Don’t be a stranger, now!” The Warmaster stopped momentarily, giving a warm gesture of thanks and telling Lain to do the same.

“Acknowledgement: my thanks for your assistance this day.” Lain spoke politely, nodding her head, before giving an odd laugh and grabbing the Warmaster’s hand - the Clawed one. This even seemed to surprise Hazuki, who gave a genuine laugh in response to Lain’s affection.

As this occurred, Lain leaned into Hazuki’s ear. You have a talent for reading lips, so you’re surprised when the only thing she says is a single letter:

“W.”

A solemn nod is all Hazuki gives in acknowledgement.

She patted Lain on the head, like one would a dog, before turning once more, waving a human-handed goodbye to the squad, and—

They vanished. No teleportation smoke, no activation signal, nothing. The Warmaster and Lain disappeared, as if never having been there at all.

As you take note of this, you glance around the cabin of the aircraft - and only then do you notice the ever so slight burn mark next to your seat. The smallest, barely noticeable, little thing - but clearly not a bullet hole or from an RPG.

Odd. How deeply odd.

===

ADDENDUM A: Absolution

//

(A month or so later. Aboard the Sixteenth Officio’s Private Military HQ, en route from the Mediterranean to a new heading. Bathroom No. 26, Floor No. 5.)

//

You find yourself washing your hands.

You and your squad had been debriefed and interviewed repeatedly since the Operation’s end. The Field Commander, and the Officio’s own former Warmaster, had apparently been tight-lipped surrounding the operation, initially out of concern for the timeframe involved, but since the Op’s end, she’d merely claimed privilege based on the vague orders from the First Officio, and then proceeded to return to Syrakhanistan and maintained radio silence.

You, Kiryu, and Ogawa attempted to explain the situation - the Witch that had oddly manifested, the Wired Girl who’d been your target, the Glassing of the Salt Lake (something which Jyubey took an EXTREME interest in), and the Warmaster of the First’s curious relationship and reaction to the two other (former) Warmasters.

As per usual, it appeared there was little to no proper communication between Officios, especially between the First Officio and their quote-on-quote ‘equals’ down on Earth. God, the whole process was a bore. Fuck this bureaucratic nonsense.

You don’t know why, but you’ve been waking up earlier and earlier over these past few days since the operation.

“Guilty conscience, perhaps?”

The voice pierces into your head, and you spin rapidly to respond—

“Relaxation: Chill, Mel Anna-san. Eversor of the Sixteenth (although I would disagree with that classification in your case); or perhaps, I would call you Three?” The white-dressed girl tossing her legs side to side from the top of a toilet cubicle spoke, a smirk on her face.

“Asset Iota… Lain Iwakura-sama.” You respond cautiously, bowing your head in respect.

“Just Lain will do, Eversor. No ‘sama’ necessary; my position these days is far more loose and without title, and certainly not worth the courtesy of a Warmaster’s honours.” The girl said, flipping down and landing in a swift motion next to you, right before hopping onto the sink counter.

“…are you here to kill me?” You manage to say, her eyes boring through you.

“Kill you…? Why would I do that?” Lain said. Her voice betrayed what appeared to be genuine curiosity.

You blink a few times, before responding quietly; you know you have to be honest, since she was almost certainly reading your mind. “I… I’m the one responsible for your sister’s demise.”

“…which sister?” Lain responded, cricking her neck with a questioning look.

“Wh-which sister? How many do you have? And how many have DIED?” You reply, somewhat aghast.

“I have several! And how many… Hmm, I dunno. Stopped counting after the second one; only really cared for my first, after all.” Lain spoke, answering each question in quick succession.

You… what? Eh?

“I… I was told that… that she was your youngest sister? Or was it a cousin? Girl with light powers? I was told to avoid others called Iwakura who might seek revenge…” You say diplomatically.

“Oh! Yes. I… barely remember that one. But I know of her; knew of her.” Lain spoke.

She seemed to make a typing action, and what appeared to be some sort of electronic form appeared on the mirrors next to the two of you.

“Let’s see here… Ah, yes, I remember this report! Quite a laugh, actually. KIA ‘in honourable combat’, my ass! Killed by a non-contracted girl using regular human munitions in a one-on-one duel. Disgraceful!” She spoke, a cruel and mocking tone to her words.

She slammed her hands shut, and turned back to you. “However, it certainly reflected well on the killer - I had actually wanted to meet her in person to offer congratulations and perhaps even give her access to an Incubator for contracting, but I was told a certain white-haired demigoddess got to her first.”

She grinned, looking down on you from the counter. “Well! This is a rather good turn of events then, isn’t it? I’d had a hunch when you awoke me that you were somehow related to me by events or some-such, but to think you had Iwakura blood on your hands? Impressive!”

She holds out a hand, smiling.

You’re… deeply puzzled. Concerned, even. You don’t turn down the handshake, mind—

Or, you wouldn’t, if your hand didn’t phase through her hand instantly.

“Eh?” You grunt in bemusement.

“Oh! So that’s how that works!” Lain acts coyly, getting down from the counter.

She walks towards you, and taps the side of your head. Somehow, this does elicit a reaction.

“Yeah, you never went for a full physical check-up after your contract, did you? They sewed your head back on, gave you a touch up, and when you contracted you seemed good as new.” Lain spoke, her finger somehow visibly poking into your eye - painlessly, mind, if rather uncomfortable - from your ear. “However, seems neither you nor they accounted for all your cybernetics that you’d had put in. Cybernetics that have now long since folded into your internal organs, regrowing with magical healing, and essentially being grafted into your biotics.”

You’re not sure how to respond. “So… I’m a Magical Cyborg Girl?”

“Pfft! If you want to call it that, go ahead.” She said, extracting her invasive finger. “Thing is, it allowed me to see you far better than anyone else upon extraction. You’re lit up like a damn Christmas tree to my eyes; so, before we left, I did a little digging of my own.”

Of her own…? Wait—

“Yup - I wasn’t staring aggressively out of any hate or whatever rubbish you thought; I was interfacing with your augments and installing a little something of mine own make.” She spoke cockily. “A little piece of Iwakura is now permanently inside you!”

As if to prove her own point, you watch in horror as one of your own eyes twists in the socket to stare into the mirror, colour changing to match that of Lain’s, blinking, before returning to normal.

“I believe we’re getting distracted.” You manage to say, tearing your gaze away from the cursed vision of yourself.

The illusory Lain claps her hands. “Ah, of course! What I wanted to say if I ever met you, my sister’s killer - was a simple congratulations.” She nods, an impressed look on her face. “A non-contracted individual, even heavily experimented on and trained well, is usually barely a match for a Magical Girl when one faces down dozens, even hundreds - a lone individual killing a Magical Girl in single combat would be laughable to most.”

She gazes into your eyes. “It was a fine kill. You did well, and the Incubators made a good choice in making your contract.”

Even as the words of praise came, all you could feel was an increasing sense of horror. “But… she was your sister…?”

“And? What difference does that make? She was weaker than you, which makes you better than her.” Lain says, smiling. “As I’m sure you’re fully aware by this point in your illustrious career, we live in a world defined by survival of the fittest. The weak die; the strong prevail. I told you myself before - killing is not a good act, but it is through death that people like myself gain more and more. A necessary evil, something I take no pleasure in, but something I recognise as a tool to be used.”

Lain nodded, an illusory hand brushing your cheek in a prideful manner. “You killed one with the Iwakura’s blood, on her home turf while serving as a Marine no less - and without any magical abilities. You are a wonderful, definitive example of my beliefs.”

You gaze back into those eyes, your own horrified expression reflected in them.

“…your thoughts betray your revulsion towards my opinion.” Lain said, seemingly disappointed. “But that’s fine. Given your background, I had somewhat hoped for a kindred spirit, unified in our love for the mechanical and the battlefield… but such is life.”

You shake your head to this. “I may love the thrill of the fight, and I may enjoy the benefits of my augmentations - not least now because my Contracted body lets me use them without any downsides - but I still have respect for familial ties. Those who I once called family were taken from me; those I used to call comrades were butchered, some of whom fell at the hands of those I now find myself allied with. I do not forgive, and I most certainly do not forget - Iwakura-SAMA.”

Lain observed your expression, determined as it was, before harrumphing somewhat dramatically. “You do you then, EVERSOR.”

She began to wave goodbye, before stopping and turning back to you again. “Wait, I completely forgot the whole reason why I wanted to talk to you!”

You pause in your disparaging stare. “Which was…?”

“Twofold. A message and a warning.” Lain said, raising two digital fingers in response. “Your Officio may not know about your unauthorised usage of Astropathic abilities to find the Artificial Witch, but myself and certain others most certainly did.”

“Artificial…? So it was—”

“Yes, yes. Call it a [REDACTED]-special. Even in their little quandary they continue to fight against, they do occasionally fulfil their obligations and tithes.” Lain speaks casually of the abomination you fought. “I deployed it following my… unfortunate capture… to protect my incarcerated remains.”

“How DID you get captured, anyway?” You manage to interject.

Lain waves a hand, while suppressing a giggle with the other. “Classified. But let’s just say it involves a few too many drinks on the wrong train ride, and leave it at that…”

That… doesn’t even remotely explain it.

“Anyways! I could have taken out the insurgents and other combatants myself, but I was without decent transportation - and, frankly, I was feeling a bit bummed out. Lazy, perhaps.” Lain spoke casually.

You flinch a little, suppressing an instant thought of mocking at her lackadaisical attitude, hoping she didn’t take note of your mental admonishment.

“Getting back on track. While I understand that you and your comrade were getting frustrated, you would have figured it out eventually; my humble opinion would disparage your usage, were it not for Ogawa’s clever dispelling of the Door mechanism on my bunker-capsule… and if not for your own other visions within your momentary lapse of judgement. That part in particular I took note of when looking back at your memories through this—” she taps the side of her head “—somewhat disruptive format.”

You recall it vaguely in tandem with Lain. Visions seen while floating atop the waves of the damned dimension of endless energy, searching for an answer to your prediction. Visions of flame and laughter.

“I didn’t report that particular part to any of my own comrades, and I have no doubt you didn’t either.” Lain comes to a stop.

“Why? You can understand why I wouldn’t have done so in a pragmatic sense - but why wouldn’t you?” You bleat out, to which Lain responds with a satisfied nod of acknowledgement.

“Allow me to be frank - something bad is on the horizon. Something related to why I’m seen as such a classified and important asset… something you’ve witnessed even a slice of.” Lain speaks quietly, looking over her shoulders for unseen intruders.

You narrow your gaze in suspicion. “Like what?”

Lain looks back at you. “A Witch the calibre of witch is only seen once every few centuries or so. Something one could accurately call… A Calamity.”

Calamity… What, like from—

“Exactly.” She says, clearly reading your mind. “You witnessed a mere fraction of the hell it brings with it; I’d estimate we have… about a year, given my own calculations.”

“…why are you telling me this?”

“Honestly? To get you to tell others.” Lain spoke frankly. “My humble opinion is only shared by a few others in my, ahem, escalated ranking. Luckily for me, some of the ones that really matter are on my side. But we also don’t want to… how do I say - disrupt the balance?”

You’re… not sure how to interpret that, except as...

“So… you want me to do something?” You work out.

Lain snaps her fingers. “Pretty much. Nothing too drastic, no names, no shouting in a crowded cinema. My people and I will be doing the same with various other inroads, but people on the ground floor - so to speak - tend to help spread bottom-level info faster.”

“So I risk charges of spreading unfounded rumours and getting people riled up at the prospect of a mythical and ancient enemy returning, in return for…?” You ask.

“For keeping your life, dipshit.” Lain snarls back, expression changing on a dime, before switching back to that single horrifying grin you saw back in her bunker. “By all accounts the unauthorised usage of your ability as explicitly banned by your higher ups AND THEIR OWN HIGHER UPS should bring the hammer down on you, no questions asked. Your life continues solely at my, and by extension my allies, convenience and express permission. Should you try anything dumb, like trying to reveal my involvement, or besmirching the good name of the Officios administrative apparatus, or so much as look funny at the wrong Rank Leader, and Most Holy help me, I’ll heat your cybernetics up so hot and so fast the ensuing detonation wouldn’t even leave your ashes for burial.”

You initially flinch, before nodding in understanding. “Honestly… not even surprised.”

Lain laughed at this. “You shouldn’t be! Your little life has gotten pretty used to accepting death as a penalty for misbehaviour, hasn’t it?”

You nod, sadly. “Probably isn’t good for the ol’ noggin though, is it? That type of stress?”

Lain actually groans at this in agreement. “Ugh! You’re telling me; there’ve been petitions for at least some sort of basic Inter-Officio counselling network for DECADES now, let alone actual Magical therapists… Trying to explain the concept of mental health to the Incubators is like trying to squeeze lemonade from an orange. It took us YEARS to even get permission for Inter-Officio Postal Services; hell, the cross-Officio digital communications system is still barely functional…”

You giggle at this, a moment of brevity in the dark. “Not so inhuman then after all…?”

Lain scoffs. “Don’t be silly; it’s just all too inefficient for Mahou Shoujo to be blowing their brains out instead of dying in battle or Witching out properly. Efficient oiling of the cogs of bureaucracy was indeed the thing that finally got the Incubators to give us what little healthcare they do provide…”

You laugh again at this.

“…But we digress. My request is simple: spread rumours of an apocalyptic disaster being relatively imminent. Back it up with vague hints of prophecy; a bit of Blessed Lady spice never hurt anyone - and in this case will probably do the opposite.” Lain nods, satisfied with how the conversation was progressing. “I can’t offer solid rewards currently, so it might seem like I’m offering all stick and no carrot, but allow me to promise you that having me in your good books will bring you benefits at some point along the line… If you live that long, mind.”

You nod, performing a mock salute. “I accept your orders, Iwakura-san.”

Iwakura chuckles, lightly tapping your shoulder with a friendly (if incorporeal) nudge. “Hey, you’re just as much Iwakura material as any of my cohort these days, especially with the amount of firmware I put into you.”

“Speaking of which,” Lain continues, “you’ll probably sleep better now. Sorry - my interference in your head was probably what was ACTUALLY keeping you up.”

You’d surmised as much. “Lain-san, I’m assuming that whole spiel was the warning part - but what was your message?”

Lain smiled. “Oh, that one’s more simple. Your benefactor just wanted me to let you know, ahem…”

She cleared her throat, before putting on a decent impression of a certain woman’s imperious and impenetrable demeanour.

“‘You’re not too subtle, are you? Keep at it - we’ll have a chance to talk without interference one of these days.’, is what she said. Presumably in reference to your little ‘hiding and cleaning’ routine you did on the helipad.”

You remember it well. She continues:

“Seriously, you and your boss were lucky Akiyama-chan didn’t blow a damn gasket. She gets REALLY annoyed at people disrupting her dramatic moments; she wanted to reveal you and Ogawa, the stars of the hour, all dramatic-like - but Cornelia-san trod all over her neat little plan.” Lain rattled off in an almost list-like manner.

“Apparently she wasn’t always like that…” You murmur, mostly to yourself. Lain catches on, and nods.

“Yeah… anyways; suffice to say, everyone most definitely DID notice you and Ogawa’s little schtick, but only Akiyama was really frustrated. The Warmaster of the First was mostly just saddened she didn’t get to chat to you for the first time since your little fateful encounter - and she also wanted to personally praise Ogawa for that neat little trick. Even implied to me later that there’s a promotion in the works for that quick-thinking…”

Lain’s train of thought trails off, as she seems to tap her chin while thinking aloud.

“Ah! Anyways, I’m keeping you too long. Don’t want any of your new friends thinking you’re any more loony than you actually are, right?” Lain cackled. “Just remember - spread the word of the End Times, know that both myself and your Guardian Angel stroke mysterious benefactor are still in your corner, and that we WILL blow your head up into little pieces if you fuck up.”

You nod graciously. “I’m… aware, Iwakura-sam.”

As Lain motions to ‘leave’ (a superfluous action given her digital state), you hold up a hand. “Also… for what it’s worth…” You begin. “I might not agree with your motivations, but I am thankful that you’re not full of wrath at my killing of your sister. I make no apology nor request for absolution - but you still have my condolences none the less.”

Lain shrugged. “Think nothing of it; I already consider the matter closed - and besides, this is more a case of recycling!”

You cock your head in bemusement as Lain chuckles.

“I’ll make an Iwakura out of you yet, Three-chan~” The girl sing-songs mockingly, before throwing herself into the sink’s mirror and vanishing into a puff of smoke.

You say, as if she’s not still actively in your head.

How odd.

===

//

ADDENDUM B: Sleepwalker

//

(Personal log. Dated only a few days after the operation. Location confirmed to be government black-site Project Sleepwalker, near Dyvasyab in the proximity of the Damavand Volanic Power Facility.)

//

The Fourth Officio always did share Quartus’ flare for the dramatic.

Those were your first thoughts as you descended once more to Terra, this time by the more traditional route that singed your senses with the stench of burned ozone and fried synapses. As much as you’d ‘prefer’ (something you hesitate to think, given that your little trick certainly had caveats) to take your personal shortcut over this stomach-churning and blunt method of transmission…

There was a certain formality necessary for things like this. And besides - the Fourth, and Iwakura-san, DID seem particularly proud of it’s seeming impenetrable nature. You wouldn't want to insult their fine work by demonstrating how easily someone with your calibre of training could find a way in.

You find yourself thrown through the Immaterium from the cold comfort of Luna into a machine-like but beautifully decorated interior, golden mechanical cogs twisting and turning inside tubes of clear shining crystal, a marble floor encrusted with gems glowing and humming with electrical currents.

“WELCOME, [GUEST]. IDENTIFY IF YOU PLEASE OR RISK INSTANT OBLITERATION.” A tannoy declared loudly, if politely.

“Authorisation Override Code: Mike-Iota-Kilo-Alpha-One.” You respond with well-rehearsed diction.

“OVERRIDE CODE CONFIRMED. GUEST VISIT: DELETED. WELCOME, #*#^',^*#*^[#**#^}”, the tannoy responded, the last segment being static-filled gibberish.

Rules were rules, after all. The Warmaster of the First Officio never left Luna except in the most dire circumstances, or with express Incubator permission - something which was increasingly difficult to get a hold of. Officially, you were currently currently performing routine maintenance as part of ceremonial training - unofficially, everyone was covering for you while you took a moment of respite. Extra unofficially, your Equerry was covering for you while you investigated a particularly concerning report from an old friend.

“W.”, she had said. That single letter still sent shivers down your spine. Even the strongest of soldiers should never forget their sense of fear; even you could still hold respect for the Witch of Witches from yore.

However, it was the small gesture as she held your hand prior to activation of the Shortcut, the few taps of Morse Code onto your grasp, that brought you down to Terra on this most unpleasant of days.

You move through a basic foyer (basic by Fourth standards - so gold, jewelled, and absolutely plastered with wiring and metal cogs), ignoring the occasional look from menials and servo-bots alike, and press a hand (the correct hand, that is) to a panel next to a flat plane of glass. A whirring motion occurs, indicating yet another identity scan - yet another thing to scrub from the records - before the glass slides open with a soft whumph, revealing a solid silver tube with only a single glass sheet as a door-stroke-window. An elevator.

You begin your descent. Several hundred metres underground, beneath dirt, beneath an active volcano, beneath DOZENS levels of dense tungsten, steel, and Most-Holy-knows what other protective materials. It had been worth the cost to build this surveillance black-site, for several rather pressing reasons. National security for your little pet project of an empire-slash-abomination, international decryption protocols, backups of all digital data across 200-odd nations... Even the Incubators from all Twenty-

Wait, no. You forget yourself... Not Twenty anymore. Eighteen? Or was it Seventeen, following the Ninth's little war?

Either way, the whole Officio system had their own little chunk of processing power for itself in this towering feat of engineering, the Fourth more than any other (mostly since your own First didn't exactly need the extra space, given how deep Luna's pockets continued to go)... And, of course, the girl it was all hooked-up to held the lion's share. The girl who other nations' interference seemed to indicate an actual artificial intelligence planning the economy and suggesting national policy - a rumour you'd allowed to run rampant and even leaned into, since the alternative was perhaps even worse.

As the elevator descended further and further in, the glass revealed floor after floor of massive server farms; all humming ominously, chittering away to one another in binary. Servers of every kind; military-grade, prototype cloud storage, supercomputers, quantum computers, even an entire floor dedicated to experimental biological interfaces (live subjects included). An endless chasm of machines, all bending to that girl’s will, her every beck and call.

She deserved it, honestly. She'd... She was a good one; a miserable existence, rumoured to be a near-deity for those who spent too long on certain sites, and certainly an object of impressive praise. The only known Mahou Shoujo to have contracted with an Incubator over the Internet rather than in person - to rather obvious and extreme effect, such so that policy henceforth changed to ban it outright.

The elevator reaches it's final destination, glass sheet flowing open to reveal a dark grey corridor, filled with wires, plugs, random open digital interfaces...

You tread carefully through to the simple wooden entrance at the end, making a mental note to lightly disparage Lain for this firehazard accident waiting to happen.

The plain wooden doors swung open with the slightest push, revealing what appeared to be a simple garden full of trees, plants and flowers; a greenhouse, with the occasional flutter of butterflies.

Iwakura-san, Lain, still liked to pretend to be human. Even just a little.

Flesh wires, like a flower, or perhaps a wedding dress, all flowing out from behind her. Slowly but surely, she turned around to face you, making sure none of her wires damaged her precious little slice of Eden down beneath the machines.

"Thank you for coming, Warmaster-sama." Lain bowed - or, at least, made the attempt. The heavy weight of machines plugged into her made it somewhat difficult.

"Please, Lain-chan. Hazuki is fine. I think we're beyond the point of formalities, no?" You sigh breathlessly, exaggerated for effect, to which Lain responds with a light chuckle. "So, Lain. We have a few avenues for discussion, I believe?"

Lain nodded, motioning towards another set of doors - this one far more ornate and heavyset. "First, I should probably apologise for that whole mess."

"Nonsense! It made for a good training exercise for the knuckle-draggers; it also helped to visually demonstrate to Itchy the usefulness of the National project and the CONTACT Act." You laugh the concern aside. "However, I would like at least a summary explanation as to how you found yourself on the salty remains of Lake T'Chad?"

"Ah, that's... a funny story." She begins. 'A funny story that cost quite a few lives, you think to yourself'; the inefficiency of the operation still irked you, not the least because of Lain's admittedly understandable lax attitude. "I had been stationed within my mobile command centre--"

[SECTION CORRUPTED - CONTINUING FROM NEXT AVAILABLE SEGMENT]

"--explain the caterpillar farm...?" You respond, exasperated. She shrugs at this, a cheeky grin on her face.

The massive security tunnel finally ended, and the two of you exited the travelator, as the massive gates to Lain's digital sanctuary swung open.

The core of Project Sleepwalker - the culimation of humanity's surveillance technology and a monument to security paranoia - was a near-endless vacuum-sealed silo, stretching into the abyss from above as below. Lain's personal equipment slid into several interfaces automatically, practically autonomously, as the mechanism surrounding the small shelter she'd built herself came to life.

Lain's 'house', as she liked to call it, consisted of a single elevated metal platform with a small fridge, a flat but comfy futon, a worn-out wardrobe, and a central column connected to both ends of the Sleepwalker silo. The platform (essentially an elevator inside the world's largest elevator shaft) activated the entire system, the silo coming to life with a surprisingly quiet hum, lighting up from every corner with tens of thousands of digital screens.

You both knew what this was. The Panopticon of Jeremy Bentham had reached the apex of it's limits, and the world had become the inmates. Every single digital camera, every single internet-connected device, cell tower, CCTV, basic flip-phone, text message, radio broadcast... all of it accessible with a few button presses.

Lain rested her back against the central pillar, connected her final set of modems up, and the mechanical shelter began to descend as she commenced her search.

"Which news would you like first?" She spoke aloud, ignoring the cacophony of gears and digital interference.

"The bad news, preferably?" You respond. Peel the whole 'Laughing Apocalypse' plaster off before it begins to rot.

"Oki-dokey!" Lain says, lifting an arm to swing herself around, the platform following suit. The lift slowed to a halt, allowing it to face a particularly unusual set of screens. Numbers and symbols of long-forgotten languages scrolled by endlessly.

"The predictive technology of Sleepwalker, part of which had been involved in my little adventure, managed to hit a particularly juicy vein of intel. Bit weird, bit odd, bit bulky, but certainly juicy." She explains, fingers reaching out to brush against the screens, touching the occasional Witch-rune. Patterns began to be highlighted.

"Where is this all coming from?" You query. She sighs. "Surprisingly easy to access, but rather straining to understand... It's predominantly accessing and reviewing a rather select array of weather and radiostropic reports, including archived sources without digital versions that required extra interference. I combined this with our own Astropathic and Orbital equipment scanning for certain repeating signals, different waves, occasional spots of, to be frank, WEIRDNESS - all while attempting to seperate any possible interruption spreading from the Egg that could disrupt the results of my scans, and while avoiding other Officio suspicions, particularly those with Akashic Gates that I had to access or study." She finishes her arm-waving movements, and brings together a single pile of results onto one of the screens. A mass of migraine-inducing runes, all slowly being auto-translated.

"While this is obviously subject to... interpretation... Your command has born fruit. The analysis seems to indicate that within a year or two, the ancient Stage-Constructing Witch, Walpurgisnacht, the Laughing Apocalypse, is returning from a centuries-long slumber in the Akashic Realm. Where, I cannot say - rather concerningly, I'm getting results as far afield as Australia, the Antarctic, even one or two suggesting a spawn on Mars of all places." She declared with equal measures pride and horror. "If it's any consolation, most of the other searches you requested of me didn't come up with the same results; and most of the ones that DID are either accounted for (Luna), contained (Paris), or eliminated throughout history prior to your promotion."

"Walpurgisnacht..." You sound out to yourself. A terrifying prospect.

To you, even more than most.

However, her change in tone with the last few statements caught your interest. "Most... but not all?" You ask.

Lain nodded from behind her computer. "Yes. That's the other news - good news... maybe. I'm STILL not quite sure I understand your request, but... Well, it's better to show you."

A few taps of buttons, and the shelter-lift was moving once more, rising rapidly, up and up, until it reached another set of screens - these ones more obviously CCTV footage.

"As my little message to you tapped out..." Lain began, as you stared at the screens.

You... stared. There was no mistake.

'The Sleepwalker has Awoken'. The code Lain had tapped to you.

Your left eye quivers, squints a bit. A nervous reaction.

You clench a single metallic fist.

And--

You let go. Just for a millisecond.

That's all you could allow. It rapidly flows, inwards and outwards; the cacophony of electricity briefly went silent in response, the silo going dark for a small moment. Inside Lain's fridge, what sounded like a soda can popped.

You breathe in, and out. Lain manages to unplug herself, and stands to look at you. "Hazu... Hazuki? Warmaster? Are you... alr--"

"I am fine, Lain. Apologies... You've had a lot on your plate, particularly from me." You whisper calmly, delicately. Your words as honey, your actions as sublime gestures of goodwill.

"I... Yes, I have." She responds robotically, frozen like a statue.

"Thank you for your work. Unfortunately, this particular find didn't turn out to be anything significant." You explain slowly.

"No, it didn't. Shall I delete it, since it was so irrelevant?" She answers.

"No need, Lain. There's nothing there anyway - just some boring CCTV footage. No need for alarm." You state.

"Of course. It'll go with the rest, since there's nothing of interest there." She accepts your request, sweeping it aside lethargically.

You return to your regular demeanour. "Thanks for all that, Lain! Your predictions for Walpurgisnacht may well save thousands, if not more, of lives."

"What... Wal- Oh, yes! Thank you, Hazuki. I honestly couldn't have done it without your input, based on your reviews of the historical archives." Lain chatters, back to her usual self.

"I will bring what data you have on Walpurgisnacht back up to Luna with me; be sure to respond if and when I ask over the coming days. We have a lot to discuss." You smile, before turning away from her, putting a single hand through your hair absentmindedly.

"Of course. The First Prevails, always!" Lain cheers you on. "And only in death..."

"...does duty end. I'll be on my way - could you help me find the exit?" You respond.

...

Lain waves at you from behind the elevator's glass doors, as they smoothly close up.

The elevator begins to ascend, and you take a breath for a moment, before moving your--

[SECTION CORRUPTED - CONTINUING FROM NEXT AVAILABLE SEGMENT]

--found yourself in your Earth-bound Government Council Chambers, high above the busy skies of Neo-Kirkukihara. You lie back into your designated "Supreme Leader" chair with a soft and comfortable flop. You were glad you'd found this nice design and had it imported a while back.

It was ever so comfortable on your back, especially when the weight of the world found itself resting on your shoulders.

You suppress a laugh at the absurdity of it all. The mockery.

Fucking fantastic. Just fucking amazing.

As you flick open your battered old flip-phone, the one reserved for a few singular purposes, you find yourself unable to see the humour in the situation. Indeed, you could barely see the phone or the keypad behind the flashes of those single CCTV screens of something, someONE, that you never wished to see again. Thought would never come through. Or... You don't even...

And as you begin to type out a few small texts to an even smaller number of contacts, the only thing you do feel is an utterly horrifying sense of dread. A sense of genuine paranoia.

A feeling of pure, unadulterated rage, hate, and - most of all - malice.

An emotion of unbridled, twisted and cruel vehemence that could only be described accurately in a single word:

'Evil'.

[aftgficrec]

I would loveee fics where Andrew defends Neil to aaron and the other foxes (but definitely Aaron), i’ve seen so many of Neil defending Andrew but not a lot of the other way around and Neil deserves to have his man defend his honorrr

In canon, post-medication Andrew does not talk much to anyone besides Neil. Still there are definitely fics with this. Just know Andrew’s defense of Neil can be one sentence in a story, and physical violence is often his preferred method of communication. -A

previous recs  

‘The Ash is in Our Clothes’ here

‘Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder’ here

‘in the common tongue’ here 

‘I hate him,’ ‘One day we'll reveal the truth,’ ‘i'm getting static from my better sense’ and ‘My brother under the sun’ here

‘some1 saying something…’ here

‘Ember’ here

‘Can he play?’ here

‘Surreal But Nice’ here

‘Least Favorite Only Child’ here

‘Fighting Words’ here

‘Trust Fall (And Welcoming Arms)’ here

‘(Don't) Stand So Close’ here

‘In the Eye of the Beholder’ here

‘Beach Bois’ here

‘I'm Not Okay (I Promise).’ and ‘It’s not living (If it’s not with you)’ here

‘soft spots make easy targets’ here

‘Even the Darkest Night Will End’ and ‘The Andreil escapades’ here

in Masterlist for Nicky Kissing Neil: ‘The Kiss,’ ‘History Repeating,’ ‘Andrew Finds Out,’ ‘Something, Nothing & Everything’ (also big twinyards confrontation), ‘A Crack in the Mask,’ ‘Truth Time, ‘Truths Come Out,’ ‘The Unkindness of Ravens’ ch 16, ‘Delayed Reaction,’ ‘Delayed reaction (the fear of falling remix),’ ‘All For The Game Musings,’ ‘andrew finds out about what happened…,’ ‘Hold Each Other’ ch 6 and ch 15, and ‘Slip’. Finally, ‘Lessons in Cartography’ has Andrew defending Neil to both Aaron and Jack throughout

Andrew defends Neil to non-foxes

‘Something About The Sunshine’ here

‘Warmth’ here

Foxhole Tidbits ‘Ch. 22: Silent, but Snarky’ here

‘Through A Glass Darkly’ and ‘Some Things You Just Can't Bury’ here

‘Martyr’ here

‘The Bones of You’ here

‘monsters at night’ here

‘Killer Bunny’ here 

‘you're not next before forever’ here (completed)

‘looking for you’ here

‘Give Me Another Minute (to Lay Here in Your Echo)’ here 

‘Ficlet Collection…’ ch 35-37 here

you may also like

feral protective Andrew here

protective/possessive Andrew here

overprotective Andrew here 

protective Andrew here

protective Andrew gets hurt here

protective Neil/Andrew here

jealous Andrew here

previous recs where Andrew kills Nathan here

our latest Neil & Aaron ask here

Unconventional Therapy by JostenlovesMinyard [Rated M, Twinyards Appreciation Week 2021]

Twinyard Appreciation Week - Day 2 | “bottle episode” Andrew and Aaron attend their weekly therapy session but things don’t quite go to plan when the door handle falls off and they’re stuck in there together.

tw: implied/referenced rape/nocon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Written On His Skin by hismiley16 [Not Rated, 11344 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 4 of Nothing is Safe Series

The Foxes face the Ravens for the first time since Riko's death and things go as well as expected. Andrew is mildly injured on the court and isn't there to protect Neil when the new Evermore captain comes for him after the game. The team sees more than Neil ever wanted them to, including the ghost of Nathaniel he thought he'd buried in Baltimore.

tw: vomit, tw: bullying, tw: nonconsensual touch/assault  tw: dissociation, tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: blood, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced animal death, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

this is me trying by crownowl [Not Rated, 2142 Words, Complete, 2023]

After Neil has a panic attack Andrew finds out exactly what happened when Nicky drugged Neil and he is not happy.

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual kissing, tw: implied/referenced nonconsensual drug use, tw: ptsd

Don't let me be by Cutie_Wan [Not Rated, 1983 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil suffers a major dissociation episode in front of the Foxes.

tw: dissociation, tw: violence

One Step Forward by thecompletebookworm [Rated T, 1665 Words, Complete, AFTG Exchange Winter 2020]

Based on the prompt: “Andrew and Aaron talking and solving their problems” "If you really don't care about Andrew, why does Neil bother you so much?"   Dobson asked during their Wednesday session. Aaron dug his fingers into the couch.  He hated this.  Hated that the only time he could get answers out of Andrew was when he was sitting in front of a shrink.   A shrink who was undoubtedly on his brother's side. And that in order to get answers he had to rip himself raw first.  

tw: implied/referenced rape/nocon, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Angry Alone by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1799 Words, Complete, 2023]

“Of course I’m not homophobic, you asshole. What are you even talking about?” “Aaron, please don’t use that type of language here,” Betsy softly interjects. “You’ve been very hostile towards Neil,” Andrew says plainly, as if that’s enough of an answer. ______________________________ Aaron has been feeling angry and alone lately. Maybe he doesn't have to be alone about it.

Everything's Alright by DarkD [Rated E, 182901 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2023]

Souls weren't meant to be left alone, so they split, always looking for their other half. No matter how long it took, the moment a soul existed, it sought the one that would complete it. The main indication is, when one of the halves of the soul turns seven years old, an identical mark appears on both parts. Along with that comes a set of unique abilities that soulmates can only use with each other—for protection, for finding each other. Soulmates would never be alone.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: gun violence, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: murder, tw: canonical character death

A flash of anger. prompt fill by @nickyhenmick [Tumblr, 2016]

All reporters got on Andrew’s nerves. They were invasive and never asked interesting questions, and there was probably a reason he was rarely allowed to be on press duty.

a stupid ass decision prompt fill by @find-yourself-in-passion [Tumblr, 2017]

“I recognize that you have reached a decision,” Andrew replied over the top of Neil’s protests, unwrapping his right hand in such a rush that Neil knew he was going to have red marks where the tap ripped at his flesh. “Andrew-” “But given that it is a stupid ass decision,” He continued on, refusing to acknowledge the other man’s piercing gaze on him as he threw his bag and shoes in the closet, knowing what faced him when he turned around. “I have elected to ignore it.”

Art

3 & 10 art by @thematicallycoherent

im thinkin bout these two art by @wiltkingart

Safe. art by @eislekaj on instagram

exy banquet smoke break art by @twohiddenhalves

Vkook as reference art by @reyko__ on instagram

roof. andrew. tattoos. and two cigarettes. and neil. art by @puhnatsson

Someone strong to lean on art by @fornavn

[dunjays]

Ayda Aguefort Timeline/Age Speculation

(warning this is long i have many thoughts)

ok ever since i found out about ayda's reincarnation and her relative age ive been curious about how long she would be alive for (in prep for writing a fic about what notes she'd write to her next self after meeting fig), and so here's my thoughts on that, starting with what we know:

ayda is relatively over 300 years old total

current ayda is 17 years old, and knew herself to be ~175 years old total

ayda knows of 3 previous lifetimes, all of whom lived in leviathan at one point

garthy obrien raised current ayda

a previous ayda raised garthy obrien

in various sources, dnd and general, phoenixes can live to 500-1000 before immolation. by this logic/dnd standards half-phoenixes can at minimum live a little longer than humans, and at maximum probably halfway between the two so 300-600 range.

what we can speculate:

considering past lives timelines, half phoenixes here are probably not living in that higher 300-600 range each incarnation, probably much closer to a typical human lifetime range unless they're dying unexpectedly early (which tbf is possible considering leviathan, but ayda is a badass genius wizard holed up in a library so unlikely that's happening a lot).

speculated in various sources and implied in fantasy high that half phoenixes while born without memories of the past are born with some kind of prior intelligence/maturity (like the intellect of a 6-11 year old). this would make sense for how ayda was able to raise herself in the past despite having no guardian (read notes, get around, survive, etc which wouldn't be possible if she popped out a lone infant).

all 3 previous lifetimes left notes and did work building compass points, meaning likely all at least got into teen years to be leaving in depth notes and historical impact. on average over 150 years this would make each previous ayda be about 50 years old, but this seems unlikely considering some known stuff about 4th most recent version detailed below.

arthur is ~500 years old, and confirmed that ayda told him to not contact her 300 years ago, meaning ayda was likely at least a teenager/young adult by the time of making this decision. it's unclear if this was ayda's first incarnation or not, it was likely one of the earlier ones although possibly not considering this version already had an established note-taking system and plans for informing future versions (but it is implied all the aydas leave notes so again speculation). this ayda promised to leave notes for future versions, therefore it's likely they are not the same version (the 4th most recent ayda) who destroyed the previous ~125 years worth of notes. we have at least 5 confirmed versions of ayda altogether (averaging 60 years each over 300 years), possibly more.

garthy obrien is a half orc aasimar. half orcs live to roughly 75 years, human-based aasimar to no more than 160. this means the celestial blood adds roughly 60 years to a human's lifetime, so if we add that to half orc we can estimate garthy will live to 135. half orcs reach adulthood at 14, aasimar at ~18. garthy was raised when very young through to at least adulthood, and is likely at most presently in their 40s (they describe jack brakkow as distinctly older, who's in his 50s), though more likely closer to 30s considering their more youthful appearance and vibes (but again the angel blood could be a factor). so im saying 35 for splitting of difference purposes. they raised ayda her whole life, so that's at least 17, meaning previous incarnation died when garthy was ~18 (sad).

based on all this it's highly likely the most recent reincarnation prior to current ayda raised garthy obrien, and we can assume was at least an adult when doing so and lived until garthy was an adult so likely died at the earliest at ~36-40.

4th most recent ayda destroyed ~125+ years worth of notes in an effort to start over, likely did this at at least teen age (let's say ~18) and did not start taking notes again until decades later, thus starting the 150 years until current ayda. its assumed that by the time they began note taking in leviathan they were already fairly old/reflecting on past decisions/etc, likely at least 50 (considering 18ish when burning the notes and the following 'decades-later regret'). also this takes off a chunk of that previous mystery 125+ notes, meaning 4th current ayda probably reborn around 75 years after cutting off arthur contact, possibly sooner.

we dont know really anything about the 3rd most recent ayda aside from them liking the library and getting zero bitches

theories/concrete thoughts:

even with 2nd ayda dying at the earliest at 40 and 4th ayda dying at 50 (10 of which factor into the 150 years at leviathan) at the earliest (mind you these numbers are a stretch) the max age you get ayda being is 100, which is a normal human lifespan

casual possibility in all of this is ayda is roughly 300, and with 5 version on average lives to be about 60 years old. this is simple but seems unlikely considering phoenixes live much longer and so her lifetime should be longer than a human's.

it's possible the odd age timeline/low age is in part because when she's reborn she might not be born as an infant. if she comes back as essentially 5-10 already, that is potentially a good chunk of time that is chopped off at the end, making her lifespan average closer to 70 or 80. still lower than anticipated but more reasonable.

it's possible that some versions of ayda have died prematurely or self-immolated for whatever reason. though they've all seemingly lived past childhood, they live on a pirate island with frequent dangers and strife, it's totally possible that anything bad could've happened to them. i think its less likely that they just died really early because 1: ayda seemingly has always come back with access to these notes which implies some level of safety, to have been reborn in the same space as these notes and be able to process them and grow/learn while also being still that young implies some safety/protection. also ayda is a genius and a very good wizard like her father and could likely survive most typical challenges that come her way. also she has very few relationships and very few goals besides collecting knowledge and spells so likely didn't have many enemies either. to me self-immolation feels more likely as ayda clearly struggles with a lot of insecurity and loneliness and likely depression/mental illness and mentioned as much in reference to losing fig, altho i think this prolly only happened with 3rd or 4th most recent ayda. but still, premature death is possible too (something ayda referenced as a possibility as well upon returning to leviathan).

ayda being perhaps way more than 300 is possible and makes some of the timeline make a bit more sense. you could have a much older 4th most recent ayda who dies briefly into her time in leviathan, leaving two aydas in the next 150 years living well into their 70s (or perhaps one dying earlier and one living longer). you could also even speculate that there are 4 rather than 5 aydas, the 4th most current being the same one who left her father and burned the notes (this seems unlikely tho considering the promises, the desire to restart and impulsive note burning decision) but that would make that version at most around 150 before reincarnation.

also possible half-phoenixes just have shorter lifespans. maybe the tradeoff to being immortal means their human bodies aren't strong enough to handle that power/process as easily and weaken sooner/don't last as long. hence average of closer to 60s

in conclusion/TLDR:

fig is most likely outliving ayda or they're around the same age. ayda is at least living to 60, and at the very most 150 (which is a bit stretch). most likely ayda will live to an average human lifespan of around 80, and fig could potentially die at a similar time but tieflings tend to live longer on average, also at most to 150. there's a possibility for a fig-raising-ayda akin to garthy future, but it's unlikely, at least not for long. [and if fig is a full pit fiend/archdevil ofc she could end up immortal but that might be after material plane death]

[acknowledge-reigns]

34+35 (Roman Reigns x Fem!OC) SMUT! 18+

Summary: Movie night with Roman turns steamy.

Warnings: Teasing, Dom/sub dynamic, oral (fem receiving), pet names (babygirl, sweetheart), Praise kink (Good girl), daddy kink.

Note: Lilah is a character originally featured in another fic of mine Jealous. You do not have to read it to understand this one at all, but you can if you'd like!

As Roman and Lilah settle down on the couch for a relaxing movie night, the atmosphere is filled with a sense of romance and anticipation. The room is dimly lit, with the flickering glow of the television screen casting a warm ambiance as she snuggled into his side.

Roman places his hand on her thigh, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. She leans into him, her body responding to his touch with a mixture of excitement and longing. Their eyes meet, filled with an intense desire that cannot be ignored.

As the movie plays in the background, They slowly lose ourselves in the moment. Roman's hand begins to trail higher up her thigh, his fingers gently caressing her soft skin, the sensation makes her gasp softly, her breath hitching with anticipation.

In response, Lilah's fingers find their way to Roman's chest, tracing the contours of his muscular physique beneath his shirt. The warmth of their bodies pressed against each other intensifies, creating an intoxicating heat between them.

Their kisses become more urgent, their lips moving in perfect synchronization. The taste of each other becomes addictive, fueling their hunger for one another.

As the movie continues to play on the television, its dialogue and soundtrack blending with their moans of pleasure, they find themselves fully immersed in their own intimate world.

Feeling the warmth of Roman's hand against her skin, Lilah's heart races with anticipation. Roman's hand slips under the fabric of Lilah's shirt, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Suddenly he removes his hand, a playful smirk on his face. "W-Why'd you stop?" Lilah whined in frustration causing Roman to quirk a brow.

"Because" He stated simply.

"That's not fair, Ro! You got me all worked up." Lilah protested.

"Where did you get the impression I had to play fair, babygirl? I'm the tribal chief, sweetheart, life isn't fair." Roman responds teasingly.

Lilah glares at him semi-playfully. How dare he?!

"Aw, is someone all frustrated? be a good girl, lose the attitude and finish the movie, then you get your reward." Roman promised her.

Lilah pretended to pay attention to the movie, lost in her own filthy thoughts of what Roman might do when it was over.

Eventually, the movie reaches its end, the credits rolling on the screen. Roman grinned before begining to pull her clothes off, pushing her back onto the couch he parts her legs and settles between them placing teasing kisses on her inner thighs. With no warning his mouth latches onto her clit, flicking his tongue teasingly eliciting moans of pure bliss. "You taste like fucking candy, babygirl." Roman growled as he went back to eating her out like it was his last meal. "Mmm you're such a good girl for me." He says, "You gon cum babygirl? cum for daddy."

By the end of the night he'd made her cum at least three times before he'd carried her effortlessly from their living room to their bedroom, his beard still glistening with her juices.

After he finishes getting them both all cleaned up, they laid snuggled together, their bodies still humming with satisfaction. "I love you, Ro." Lilah said.

"I love you too, babygirl." Roman responded.

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action 11

Chapter 11: Injury

There’s no time to explain what happened with Spy before the battle. But there’ll be time after… right?

TW: Gore, heavy angst

When the team got back to base, it was late morning. They were cuttin it real close with the scheduled battle that day, and Sniper hated it. Being punctual and efficient was something he strove for.

Everyone had slept on the way back, so at least none of them were tired. At 9:35 they dropped Zhanna and the wizards off at their secret place in the desert. But the battle they needed ta be on time for was at 10:30, so Sniper was stressed.

At the landing bay, everyone was rushin to get ready, ‘specially Mundy. They were gonna be fighting that one Blue team that looked and sounded almost exactly like them. That would be good for Soldier and Pyro, they didn’t get their promised fight against Merasmus.

When they got off the ship, Pauling announced their return over the intercom. She had to announce for so many teams across the States that she’d already been set up for a few hours. Scout came to the landing pad so fast, it almost felt like he teleported. That was a bit strange…

He was pale, real pale like something awful had happened. Sniper paused what he was doing to talk to him as he approached. “What’s wrong mate? Something ‘appen while we were out?”

“Sniper, Spy needs help. We don’t have much time, he wanted me to keep it secret..” Scout hissed. Mundy spotted Spy walking in, so he very obviously turned to look and said hello. “Hey Spy! How was it, ‘aving the base to yerself?” Scout took the hint and pretended they’d been talking about something light. He was a lot better at playing happy, kind of like his old man.

Spy stared at them with the most hollow look Mundy had ever seen. Whatever Scout was trying to say, it must have been dead serious, because people didn’t look like that for fun. Spy seemed to sense that his body language was off, so he muttered a reply.

“Nothing exploded”. Scout forced himself to shrug and grin all casual-like. “It was kinda ..boring… without Soldier or Demoman having a good time. Making a buncha racket. I missed it.” Scout sounded like he was trying to cover for Spy being off, which was apparently good enough proof that he wasn’t sharing the secret. Spy buggered off towards the corner.

Sniper looked over at Scout, and his normally smooth forehead was creased with concern. Whatever was goin on, he must have felt terrible for betraying Spy’s trust. But it was obvious that Spy needed intervention, whatever he was goin through. “I missed my van, truthfully.” Scout glanced at him. “How’s about you come over for a beer and a laugh, after the battle?”

Scout gave him a semi-relieved and very grateful nod. “Call it a date.” And after forcing himself to do finger guns at Sniper, he walked away.

People often stopped paying attention to Mundy when he was in the room, on account of him being so quiet and still. It wasn’t hard for him to approach Engineer and Heavy to get them in on coming to the van. He whispered a brief explanation then invited them for beer.

It would be suspicious if he asked everybody, so he picked the two who were most responsible with other people’s belongings and who needed a break the most. Spy was de-aged, but he was observant too. Though at the moment, he seemed lost in his thoughts.

Whatever was going on, they were gonna get to the bottom of it. After all, the battle would only last a few hours. It was urgent, but surely that wasn’t too long to act.

———————

Jeremy had hoped they’d be back sooner, but at least they were back. He’d have to wait to tell Sniper about Spy being ready to die to the mob, and it was eating at him. But if he just blurted the truth, Spy wouldn’t trust him anymore, and worse… he might make Scout sound like he was lying.

When he was growin up, Jeremy didn’t get any trust from teachers and people at stores. He was related to his brothers; who were always causing trouble, serious trouble. He was a clown and knew it, but not one who wanted to start a fight for no good reason. Or one who wanted to steal for fun.

But anytime he snitched on his brothers or classmates, the grown ups assumed he was in on it. Thought he was lying to save himself, on top of getting in trouble with other kids for snitching. And his brothers were real good at lying, especially Jonas. If he didn’t have proof, he was always the one blamed or accused.

He wasn’t considered a snitch by RED team, but this was a serious thing to say about Spy, and well… He knew they thought he was fragile.

They all looked at him like he was fragile, especially around new Spy. It was like they thought he was clinging to the newbie like he thought Spy’d disappear if he let go. Like a paranoid little kid.

It’d be easy to say he was overreacting to that nightmare or his old man disappearing. But he had proof, he had the envelope. If Spy was prepared to die, there’d have to be stuff about his will and his money; and even Jeremy knew that it was weird for a young guy to have all that written out.

He put the envelope in his locker in the respawn room/starting point for battle. He could grab it right away when they were done, and this way nothing would happen to it.

Scout felt guilty for revealin all this stuff, especially since Spy seemed to trust him so much. He’d never imagined that he’d be good friends with a Spy, and that might be ripped away after the rest of the team knew the truth. But… If he was right and it was the Mob, or someone equally bad, Spy’s life was on the line.

They had to know. They were older and smarter and more deadly than him. They would know how to help Spy in ways he couldn’t. And besides that, if the Mob felt comfortable putting hits out on mercs, it meant they didn’t respect Pauling, and that could put her and other people in danger too.

Jeremy hoped the battle would be over quick; he could tell Spy was expecting to die any minute. He’d do what he could.

———————

Antoine didn’t know where the old Spy kept his masks, otherwise he would have been wearing one these past few weeks. He’d been wearing that awful bandana over his face, and a pair of old sunglasses he found in the old Spy’s kitchen.

It didn’t matter anymore.

He knew Scout would try to rally the others, but it was too late. He was going to be killed before the day was over, and they found out the truth. Actually, not the truth. Scout didn’t know who was really after him, and that was hopefully enough to preserve the whole desert team’s lives.

If they found out it was that ***** the Administrator trying to kill him, she’d have them all taken out in a heartbeat. Antione knew that the hitmen had failed to kill him in the helicopter and allowed Scout to get too close to the truth last night. She’d want them dead already, and it would only get worse if they let him live long enough for the whole desert team to get suspicious.

Failing the Administrator over and over was a very dangerous thing; she was bloodthirsty. It was them or him, and he didn’t blame the hitmen for it. Even if they’d been in it for the money, the threat of suffering the same fate was something he didn’t wish on them.

So today, he didn’t bother to hide his face. The admin already had footage of him without the mask, there was no point. The desert team was rushing to get to battle on time, so they didn’t notice.

—————

As much as Antoine knew he was doomed, he knew acting strange would be dangerous for more people and that took precedence. He still stalked after BLU teammates, even though his heart wasn’t in it. He was also trying to keep some distance between himself and the enemy teammates, in case a sniper was the method of his permanent execution. They could get shot too.

He was sneaking around with his invisibility activated when he spotted the BLU Spy. He looked like the old RED Spy from the paintings, but wearing blue. It made Antoine just as uncomfortable.

Red Spy looked like father and Antoine didn’t like to think about it, so he covered the paintings with blankets and curtains. It made him think about how his hair would have greyed and the wrinkles would appear in the same places, had he not been on Admin’s hit list.

Father had a goatee and mustache, which Antoine vehemently refused to grow on his own face. He didn’t even want to look comparable with a different style of facial hair. This Spy had mustache stubble that was rather dark, but also seemed to abstain from facial hair.

In any case, attacking an older, more experienced Spy was dangerous. Antoine chose not to target them for a reason. He decided the best thing to do would be to stay still and wait for the enemy to leave.

BLU Spy was hanging around in the empty hall, glancing out the windows in case a wayward Soldier or Pyro launched themselves up. He opened his disguise kit and pulled out a new cigarette; his old one was nearly finished. Antoine had lost his disguise kit too, so being invisible or using the revolver was all he could do at the moment.

After the very last of the old cigarette was burnt away, BLU snuffed it out and lit the new one. Then he started walking down the hall towards Antoine. He wasn’t sure whether to sneak way or attack, and he wasn’t going to have much time to decide.

BLU Spy paused, as if he sensed eyes on him. He pulled out the revolver and began looking around, pushing boxes that were big enough for someone to hide under. Then he suddenly chucked a wooden one behind him, which hit Antoine and knocked the wind out of him.

He waited for the enemy to shoot him in the heads but that didn’t happen. “Antoine?” Spy’s blood went cold. He hadn’t told Admin his name, it was enclosed in the divorce papers, but no where else. She shouldn’t have known his name. This Spy shouldn’t have known his name.

But this must mean he had been sent by Admin. Maybe that was why he was hanging around the hall so long, he was just biding his time. BLU Spy suddenly pulled off his mask and sent Antoine into a cold sweat.

This Spy really was the spitting image of his father; down to the same eye shape and mouth and nose, even the same shade of grey sprinkled throughout his hair. It was uncanny, the resemblance.

It couldn’t be father; he was obsessed with his stupid restaurant and wouldn’t be caught dead working as a mercenary, even just to hunt him down. As if he even knew where Antoine had gone and what career he’d chosen.

That could only mean one of two things: Admin had hired a body double, or Admin had given a plastic surgeon a picture of Antoine’s father to make this man look identical. And both meant that she knew exactly who his family was, even all the way in France.

Panic swelled in Antoine’s chest and he violently slapped the Spy’s hand away as he bent down towards him. And then he ran.

She knows my name! She knows my family!

He’d been intending to take the death without trying to escape, but Admin knowing that much sent him into a horrified state. He galloped away like a frightened horse, not knowing where to go, bumping into things and panting.

A Blue Demoman rounded the corner with his axe raised.

—————————-

Scout didn’t tag along with Spy; he was looking for possible assassins instead. He knew this battlefield well, including most if not all of the best hiding spots and shortcuts. So he patrolled around, shooting BLU teammates if they were hanging around and darting into hiding places looking for strangers.

Suddenly Pauling made a very scary announcement over the loudspeaker. “GUYS! RED Spy is-Just hurry and get to RED’s respawn room, I’m unlocking it. We need the medics, ASAP!”

Jeremy tore across the pocked dirt, second only to the BLU Medic, who was roaring across the ground at speeds nobody expected from him. When they entered the doorway Jeremy froze, but the Medic got right to work. Even as others clamored to get in and moved him to the side, he was frozen. He couldn’t help it.

Spy was layin on the floor in agony, because there was a giant gash from his neck to his pants-line, and all his guts had spilled out. At first it looked like someone pulled them all out, but then Jeremy saw the trail of blood and gut slime leading from the respawn chamber. Spy had dragged himself out of the chamber, and his guts had tumbled out along the way.

Nobody had ever told Scout that guts can move on their own. He’d had a little bit of intestine or stomach poke out in battle before, but he’d always thought that it was his heart and breathing making them move. And when they fought Merasmus zombies, the guts were dead, so they didn’t move either.

The best way he could describe it was like… when you pick up a worm as a kid, and the worm tries to get away. It makes itself real skinny, and then real fat, and then keeps doin that until you freak out and let go, or it manages to slip through your fingers. But like, feet after feet of intestines doin that.

BLU Sniper threw up. Scout knew it had to be the BLU Sniper even though he couldn’t move; RED was good at hunting and told stories about gutting dinosaur birds.

People were freakin out and asking a buncha questions, but Scout couldn’t make it all out. He watched the Medics turn on their mediguns, but it didn’t heal Spy up like it was supposed to. He could tell their Medic was asking the BLU one, who was weirdly in the know about all of this.

BLU Scout was sent to go get a gurney from the RED MedBay, then BLU Medic said:

“This is a respawn failure. Mien Gott, we haven’t had one in decades. I’m certified to do surgery on your Spy, but it has to be my MedBay. The old Admin had a lot of rules set during the crisis, and they haven’t been revised.”

Respawn failure… the respawn machine could fail and kill you? Really kill you? The scary thing was, Spy didn’t look surprised at all. Jeremy found himself walking over to new Spy alongside some other RED teammates and the enemy Spy.

Even though it really had to hurt to talk, Spy looked at his BLU enemy and growled something in French. Whatever he said, it must have been bad, because BLU looked like he was gonna cry. Then he turned to Scout, which had to hurt a lot and spilled some more blood.

“You tell her not to kill my ex! You tell them she didn’t know!” He sounded angry and sad, like he wasn’t trying to be mean but he needed to command Jeremy. Who was he talking about? An ex from the mob, maybe?

The Medics came over and got Spy ready to go all the way across the battlefield to BLU MedBay. Both Heavies were tasked with pushing the gurney while the mediguns were on; they said the medigun rays were what was keeping Spy alive.

As they were pushing the gurney out the door, Spy practically barked

“You tell them she didn’t know!” And then he was gone. BLU Scout came over to them, looking sorry for everyone.

“Doc has to do surgery but.. he said there’s a classified video tape that we all need to watch. About Team Malum… If you guys need a minute…” He trailed off. “We won’t start it without everyone from RED.”

The BLU team left RED alone to think about what was happening. Engineer and Sniper looked at Scout. “You said something was up with Spy? What was it?” The rest of the team looked confused. Numbly, Jeremy walked over to his locker. “He said he was gonna die.. and he seemed sure. Hopeless about it.” He turned around, holding the envelope in shaking hands.

“I thought it had to be Mob ****. I never thought… I didn’t know we were out of time.” He looked at the envelope. Everyone crowded around, and both Pyro and Soldier were quiet. Pauling wouldn't fault them for opening it. She wasn’t Helen.

“He said this was for the Admin, so his ex would get his money… I’m not supposed to open it but..”

“Pauling’ll understand, lad. It might give us a clue.” So he opened it. “I’m really **** at reading but… I’ll try.”

If you’re reading this, it means you successfully killed me, Ms Administrator. Not that there was any doubt you would. Everyone paused. That’s why he was worried about the cameras, wasn’t it? And telling Scout the truth… He thought they’d all be killed, but why?

I just have one last thing to tell you, before my name is erased and everyone forgets I existed. You’re probably tempted to kill my ex wife, too. To silence one last loose end.

I have attached my divorce papers, which state the date we split. It was before my “transfer”. It was before the last two assassinations.

The note ended and there was a bunch of real divorce papers sandwiched between it and another note. Engineer asked for the divorce forms so he could look through and summarize. Scout let him, since he wouldn’t be able to read all that anyway. He’d read the other note instead.

My point in attaching this is providing proof that my ex is not a loose end. I know that taking my word for it is out of the question.

Ms Administrator, I would like to request that you spare the lives of Ms Merriam-

Jeremy stopped. “What’s wrong?” Sniper asked. “You went pale.” He looked again. “That’s my mom’s name.” Engineer looked up. “There’s a list of children on this form. Does it…”

Scout snatched the page out of Engineers hand and squinted at it. Arthur, age 7. Henry, age 6. Jonas and Frankie, age 5. Petey, age 4. Kevin and Danny, age 3… Jeremy, age 2.

[dangermousie]

I watched the cut proposal scene and honestly, I totally get why they removed it from the drama - tonally it doesn't really fit for the tone of that portion of the story or their way of interacting/characters (it's awfully romance novely and there is nothing wrong with that but the vibe in 36 or even the rest of the drama is not like that - even the confession scene at the pond back way when is not like this in vibe, if it makes any sense.)

But it was a fun little extra to watch anyway, and now we at least know what happened to that note with the promise to do one thing of LX's choosing she wrote for him in college (which I thought would be brought back up but wasn't.)

So, basically perfect for a cut scene!

Here it is btw (thank you, amazing finder @aysekira, as always)

PS I also watched the production special - I don't tend to have much interest in either bts stuff or actors outside their roles so I could take or leave most of it, but I did crack up like nobody's business that apparently the sex scene in 35 was CFY's last scene in terms of filming. Talk about going out on a memorable note and fucking off literally :P

[riathedreamer]

Gotta share this writing here as well -

So in the Footnotes server, we discussed possible AUs and I got a bit too attached to an AU of ch 35 where Crowley got caught by Heaven and young Aziraphale (Aziräfälen my beloved) is being looked after by Beelzebub and Gabriel as they begrudingly promised in ch 33.

And then I wrote a thing...

Aziraphale wanted, for whatever stupid reason, to touch one of the stars he kept admiring.

“If he runs off, you get to track him down,” Beelzebub said with a smile that contained too many teeth. It brightened up their already pretty face.

“Hey, if no one can find him, he’d be safer than ever,” Gabriel said, throwing out his arms. “Think about that.”

“I have. I hope you’ll enjoy the flight.”

He wouldn’t. His wings were already tired at this point, and he thought he’d moved past the time when he had to be in charge of a bumbling Aziraphale.

“Fine,” he said, and Beelzebub grinned in victory. After having dragged the angel back toward the safe house, they’d disposed of him by one of the cometary dust trails he’d follow in his curiosity. At least it was an easy way to track him down - just follow the glowing dust.

The young angel was glamping his wings in excitement - and how strange was that, to think of Aziraphale as young. He’d always lacked… something. A certain level of intelligence or knowledge or common sense. But now he actually had an excuse to be an idiot.

“Aziraphale.”

He spun around, eyes wide and alert. “Yes?” He almost looked like his usual self, actually, as he waited to be told what to do.

“Stop doing what you’re doing and just - stay there. Yeah? Stay there, and count to, uhm, a billion. A billion sounds great. It’s the perfect job for you.”

“Oh. Thank you?” Aziraphale smiled. “But why?”

Gabriel blinked. “Why?”

“Yes. It’s a rather odd number, isn’t it? It might as well be two billion. Or a hundred. A two thousand and eighty-three. Why one billion? And why does it have to be counted?”

“Because I told you to?” Gabriel said. Duh.

“Oh. Yes. But - why are you telling me to do that?”

“To keep you busy.”

“That - that certainly would keep me occupied for a while. But -”

God, this was a headache. That’s what you get for making a deal with a demon, Gabriel supposed. Well, any other demon that wasn’t Beelzebub. “Don’t say why,” he commanded him. “No more why’s.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, and then reconsidered. “...When -?”

The Lord barely gave him the strength to cling to his patience. “Why are you asking so many questions?! Crowley hasn’t even had the chance to corrupt you yet!”

“Is there a specific rule set for when a why is appropriate? I don’t want to be rude, but since you just asked why -” He trailed off under Gabriel’s glare. “Never mind,” he said and smiled again. “I do have a question, however. Who is this Crowley?”

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 35

Next one down, and it gets tricky.

Masterlist

Chapter 35: Emotional mission

As they waited for the transports and the Havoc Marauder to arrive, Amanda smiled down at her Mon Calamari Padawan, Alma, who had been nothing short of amazed by the presence of Orion ever since Clone Force 99 had assisted them months ago. Alma's pink skin and grey eyes reflected a sense of wonder and excitement as she watched the sky impatiently.

Amanda couldn't help but tease her young Padawan, gently moving her hand over the smooth skin of Alma's head, where the beaded braids signifying her Padawan status dangled. "Alma," she said with amusement, "are you here to help and learn, or are you just interested in spending time with Orion?" Alma's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Well, Master, a bit of both, I suppose," she replied with a grin. "It's not every day we get to meet such an adorable baby… again and again. But I promise I'm here to assist with the rebuilding efforts as well."

Amanda chuckled, her blue eyes glinting with warmth. "I'm glad to hear it, Alma. Orion has a way of capturing everyone's attention, but we have a duty to fulfil here. Not just to rebuild, but also to the citizen. And most of all for you to learn." As they continued to wait, Amanda and Alma shared a moment of camaraderie, knowing that their mission was not just about rebuilding a temple but also about nurturing the next generation of Jedi, including young Alma herself.

As the transports and the Havoc Marauder arrived, Tech couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. Orion nestled in his carrier on his chest, and as the infant cried once again but stopped as soon as they left the ship, Tech knew it was because of Amanda's presence nearby. He understood that Orion recognized his mother, even at such a young age. Tech also knew his role in this situation. While he could handle all the technical and logistical aspects efficiently, he recognized that Hunter, as the Sergeant and the leader of their squad, needed to handle the formalities with the troopers and the distribution of resources. Each member of Clone Force 99 had a specific role to play, and Tech's role was to support his brothers and ensure Orion's well-being.

Taking a deep breath and adjusting the carrier that held Orion securely against his chest, Tech focused on the tasks at hand. Amanda's return had brought a mix of relief and concern, but he was determined to ensure that everything ran smoothly during their mission on Callo, for the sake of their family and their duty as soldiers of the Republic.

Tech, always in his element when dealing with data and calculations, took out his datapad and started to walk towards the ruins, after a short briefing. And Hunter told him to, maybe to keep him from acting out. His mind was already racing with thoughts of where best to start, what resources were needed, and the most efficient way to assist in the reconstruction efforts. It was a way for him to immerse himself in his work, at least for the moment, and to momentarily set aside the complex emotions brought on by Amanda's unexpected presence. So maybe that was Hunter’s idea all along.

As he walked among the ruins, Tech couldn't help but be amazed by the scale of the destruction, last time he saw only a bit of it. The task ahead was daunting, but his analytical mind relished the challenge. He began to record data, take measurements, and make detailed notes, all with the intention of creating a comprehensive plan for the reconstruction efforts.

The familiar hum of engines, machines and murmur in the background provided a comforting backdrop to his work. Tech knew that his brothers, along with the additional troopers, were handling their respective duties efficiently. For now, he focused on the task at hand, seeking solace in the precision of his calculations and the knowledge that he was making a difference on this war-torn planet.

Chapter 36

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @aalizazareth @neyswxrld @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd

Well 2 wisdoomteeth out. And I can't talk at the moment... worst case for an italian. But pain and spitting blood never stopped me... and I can't nap again so why not post eh?

[redcreekfm]

Is there a mun cap? I love that everyone is joining, just feels like there's a lot happening at once lol! Do you have any tips for not feeling overwhelmed?

      𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 ! our mun cap is 35 muns , so i believe we're five people away from hitting that right now ( don't quote me on that though , as our pages are due for an update ) ! for new members joining , i think our biggest tip is to take things one step at a time . focus on the important things first like getting your character intros up , reading up on our plot drops , putting out a plotting call , and going from there . maybe even reach out to the muns who have open starters in the tags first so you can get the ball rolling with ic interactions ( if you're like me and prefer plotting at least a general vibe before diving into writing with someone ) , then take some time to reach out to and properly read up on everyone else who reacted . with 50+ characters no one is expecting anyone to come up with 50+ plots right off the jump , trust me on that ! we're a very patient group of people ; as long as the effort and intention is there , people will sense that ! for current members , i'd offer similar advice . with a burst of new people joining make sure you're being welcoming and doing your best to form new connections and new plots , but don't feel like it has to happen in the span of a day or two days . we're all adults with outside responsibilities here ! rping is meant to be fun and low pressure ; give yourself the grace to be a creative and collaborative writing partner by having realistic expectations for yourself and for others . you can also always reach out to us if you find yourself feeling overwhelmed , and we promise we'll do the best we can to alleviate that feeling for you !