#i'm not giving up on my colony here -- i will hold out until the very end

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

twitter is so much more fun than tumblr these days

[puppetmaster13u]

@f4nd0m-fun here (I hope they allow us to ask with secondary blogs soon)

Just how wild do you like your Batfam cryptids? I've got ideas for days.

One is a wing fic where all the bats essentially end up half demon. Thomas and Martha make a deal with Alfred to help fix the city and clean up the curses and everything, and. Alfred asks for 'the souls of your descendants' at the point, not caring much for humanity but hoping to get ahead of those pesky demons in his soul collection (so and so said he has Constantine's soul but that's only a piece! What about a bunch of souls that have been tainted by the spirit of a city that has never had reason to hope? Now those are some rare and dark souls).

The Waynes were hoping he'd take their souls instead but he refuses (maybe they're too full of hope or something) but, over time, he grows attached and ends up giving Bruce a shard of his power, allowing him to transform into a demonic winged form based on an animal for his protection after his parents die. When he's young the form is a snowy owl, but once he come back and became Batman his wings have changed. Each of the babies is the same way. As Robin, they gain their baby wings, but, once they move to a new name, their wings evolve.

'The Demon's Head' isn't just a fancy title, the Al'ghul's are demon descended, so Damien is at least a quarter demon even at the beginning, but Alfred's power can't be passed genetically like they thought, so he was born grounded. In this, he shows up sooner, Talkia asking Jason to take Damien with him to his father since she knows her father will kill him for being wingless.

Tim, poor baby. He couldn't fly as Robin because his wings were a shattered mimicry of Jason's Robin wings. He felt like he was in the shadow of the previous Robin, making the 'replacement' nickname sting even more, but, eventually, he grows into the wings of a cardinal and learns to fly.

I'm not sure if Alfred marks Barbara as his person, but if not, maybe he regrets not doing so, thinking that she might not have ended up paralyzed if he'd given her power. But also she's not really considered a 'Wayne descendant' life the kids Bruce adopted, so he'd have to directly make the deal with her. Maybe he does this with Stephanie when she comes along, still thinking about how Barbara might've been better off with a deal. Also, he keeps trying to hold off on gathering their souls because he's grown attached. I figure he'd probably end up wanting to turn them into proper demons too tho when they eventually die but, for now, until the city has been restored (if it ever will be), the Batfam is essentially immortal, and Alfred might be pulling some strings so no one realizes the Waynes are as well. As a side note, I debated Alfred x Lady Gotham for this story.

-

Then I had a dpxdc version of this where the wings were still demonic in origin but basically Scarecrow and Bruce are many many family lines removed cousins from an ancestor who was siblings with Jack Nightingale. On top of that, Danny had wings but they got charred when he was electrocuted. This one also has Clock x Pariah and they have wings due to something to do with ghosts, Danny gets a cloak made out of their feathers while his ghost side slowly grows its own wings (but he'll never have wings as a living again).

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Sorry for the long send, I got a bit carried away, but if you want I can dig up my AU again and share what I have for the wings at least, not sure what else I've got written down.

#colony of bats AU

Honestly I love both of these ideas, but what if they were say, combined.

Alfred gifts Bruce a shard of his power- everyone knows the Waynes have wings, even if in most cases too small to fly. But the wings are feathered, usually bright and flashy for the men who inherit the trait.

Which means they're very identifiable. But like you said, Alfred gets (ugh) attached to this little mortal. He's practically raised him and honestly thinks it's adorable watching him manipulate the other richfolk at galas into thinking he's such a "polite young man." Bruce is practically his baby!

So he gifts him a bit of his blood (which we know via Constantine can extend ones lifespan including giving them a bit of healing) and an itty bitty piece of his own power. Just enough for Bruce to be able to willingly call upon it. Just enough for him to disappear into shadows. Just enough for his eyes to gain a hint of an unholy glow. Just enough for a hint of claws. Just enough for feathered wings to shift into jagged mimicries of his own.

You know what could be an interesting thing? The wings are Realms in origin. We know the FentonNightingales separated into the Fentons and Nightingales some time after Jack, so whose to say that the Nightingales didn't get into magic. Perhaps they were given a gift to thank them after a bit of protection or assistance. And the infinite realms are well, infinite. It attaches to all worlds, including say the more demonic ones. But whose to say none of the Fentons made a deal or three in the generations following. They were witch hunters after all, perhaps they need something to keep up with the "traitors" of their bloodline.

Perhaps a deal which resulted in those matching wings.

Now, how could they find out their relation with the Fentons? While there could be the adoption route, what if instead it was right after Danny's accident.

He died screaming, visibly got electrocuted, his wings are torched, there's no way they're not taking him to the hospital. Which means things like blood tests, maybe even a donated organ or two because someone doesn't get blasted with that much electricity without consequences.

Which, it's the batfamily, they definitely have alarms set up for any sort of family pings for both themselves and their rogues. Just in case.

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

Also had no idea where to put it but if this includes demons and ghosts feeding on fear, or emotions in general, then Scarecrow could be instinctively attempting to feed and grow his wings. Also he deserves raven or rook wings. Maybe a jay's if you wanna go for color.

Oh my gosh, even if Alfred and Gotham don't get together, they definitely have tea together and spar. They're definitely co-parenting either platonically or romantically, it doesn't matter this is their specialist lil boy. Who then brings even more of the specialist lil ones ever!

God I love the implications of Clockwork and Pariah creating a cloak of wings for a ghostling for them to use as their feathers slowly grow back. Love what that implies for the culture of the ghost zone. Love the idea of it maybe having an influence on Danny's wings in ghost form since a ghost's appearance is influenced by their image about themself.

[commander-rahrah]

Only for him - Gale x GN!Reader

Pairing: Gale x GN!Reader Word Count: ~ 530 Warnings/Tags: act 2 spoilers, angst, hurt, talk of death and blood, eventually happyish?, no use of y/n, some in game dialogue Setting: Act 2, Ilithid Colony under Moonrise Towers

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

I've been flipping back in forth between my fics, while also finishing up my most recent playthrough of my fighter Tav x Gale romance save. And I couldn't help but want to make more of an angsty/hurt version of the conversation you have with him when you convince Gale to not blow himself the eff up in Moonrise Towers.

For the purposes of this tiny little ficlit, Tav/Reader is a melee tank (fighter, paladin, etc.) Folk Hero who has been through the ringer, lost many people and is just very... very tired. And has been waiting to get their own happy ending for so long that they thought it would never happen.

Anyways, I have enough on my plate with my two fics so I'm not committing to anything but I really enjoyed fleshing out this little headcannon dream I had while playing my newest playthrough. And I think Gale deserves all the love too! Thank you for reading, and if you liked it let a girl know!

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´

"This is it. I must do as Mystra commands." Gale took a steadying breath, his brown eyes looking anywhere but you. He had them focused ahead, on the monstrosity that was the so-called Absolute.

His leather boot took one step forward, but his movement halted as you stepped in front of him. Your heart was aching, a real physical pain cracking through it. "Gale, you cannot do this. Please, don't do this." You begged, your armored hand wrapped around his bound forearm.

You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly, "What choice do I have? More than just a goddess counts on my courage: whole worlds hang in the balance." His dark eyes looked at you sadly, anguish etching the features of his face as his wrist turned so he could hold back onto you. His fingers trembling like it would be his last touch.

Your lips quivered as you stepped closer to him. Even in this dank, evil abyss under the Tower you breathed in his familiar, warm scent. "I have spent my entire life fighting and bleeding. All I have known is death. I have stared it down on my knees, shattered and broken - even if it never came to take me, it took everyone else. And I was… so tired, so ready to give up." Tears were welling in your eyes, emotion crawling up your throat until your words choked out of you. "But then I met you. And all of it, every screaming muscle as I swung my blade, every aching bone as I took another hit, every drop of blood, every scream and tear shed... all of it was worth it. Because it led to you."

Tears were streaming down both of your cheeks now, leaving lines of clean skin as it cut through the dust and dirt and blood that stained your face. "Please, Gale - my love. Don't do this. We have time. We can have time." You grabbed either side of his face, his brown eyes softening as you tipped your forehead onto his. Your voice was a whisper, "I choose you, Gale. Not the wizard, not the sacrifice or Goddess' pawn. The man I love. Choose me back. The one who loves you. We can find another way together. I love you."

"I love you too. Much more than myself. More even than Mystra. Whether I condemn this world or not: I choose you." He nodded, his forehead still pressed tightly to yours as he pressed his lips softly to yours.

It was not the time nor place for such gentle acts of love. Not with an abomination around the corner, not with an undying man waiting to unleash his evil machinations on the world so close by. But you could not help yourself, not when it came to Gale. You pressed your lips harder to his for just a moment longer, memorizing the feeling and taste of him before you pulled away.

The pair of you nodded at each other breathlessly, eyes shifting with determination.

You would draw your sword and hold up your shield again. You would fight another day. Fight for another lifetime. You would stare down and ward off death once again. If only for him. Only for him.

[religion-in-humanity]

I am from a very odd religious background. I was raised culturally Christian, in the sense that my family celebrated Christmas and Easter, but my family wasn't religiously Christian in any way.

My mom was neo-pagan (until she became baptist well into my late teens) and my dad is a die-hard atheist; I can count all the times I went to a church on one hand and that was always with extended family (and they were all deeply unpleasant experiences), I never prayed or said grace (I held my cousins' hands awkwardly and stared ahead in silence), and my only religious education was Veggie Tales but I was so disconnected from Christianity that I didn't even realize it was a religious show.

(My great-grandma was sent to a Catholic boarding school as a little NDN girl. I grew up seeing her little figurines of the Virgin Mary and the crucifix hanging above her bedroom door, but she never told me about religion. She didn't raise me, or my brother or cousins or her own children, with the fear of hell that was beaten into her.)

I don't know the things that even other culturally Christian people seem to know about Christianity. I don't know Jesus's apostles, I don't know the story of the last supper, I don't know anything about his crucification or whatever it's called. My knowledge of the Christmas story is based on that one vine ("I brought you myrrh." "Thank you." "Myrrh-der!" "Judas, no!" Idk who Judas is either). I can't tell you what that thing priests stand at is called. I don't know the difference between a priest, a chaplain, and all those other people. I can't recognize biblical references.

Which is a very long way of saying that I don't have the same background that a lot of other converts and potential converts are coming into Judaism with. I don't have the deeply ingrained antisemitism that Christians are raised with; I'm sure I heard some iteration of "Jews killed Jesus" as a child but it never registered to me until I started hanging out with Jewish people. I definitely still hold antisemitic beliefs, because I was raised in a society, but I don't have the black and white thinking that ex-Christians bring to the table, where you're either perfect or damned and there is no in-between.

So it's been odd to me, realizing how many other potential converts don't see Judaism as its own religion and culture but as a saving grace, a way of being redeemed from the sins of Christianity and colonialism and whatever else. And then they're forced to realize that Jews, like everyone else in this world, are human beings who are complicated and messy and often selfish and cruel and all their faith in the ways that Judaism can "save" them is shattered by reality.

I have been over here furiously studying, highlighting half of my books and listening to audiobooks while I do dishes and waiting on a holding list for weeks to check out this one book that several Jewish friends recommended and signing up for all of MJL's email lists and even reading the weekly Torah and Midrash portions and their commentaries even though I have no biblical experience, along with talking to people and asking questions and researching synagogues and making a list of questions for a rabbi. And it is so so clear that these people treating Judaism like their spiritual saviors, literally replacing Jesus in their lives with Jewishness, have no actual attachment to Judaism itself and no interest in it beyond the benefits they think it will give to them. They aren't interested in the religion or the meaning or the history, because if they were, then they'd already know how important Israel is to Jewish communities and how prominent Zionism is in all its forms.

They want the culture and the holidays and the bragging rights without any of the weight and history that makes Judaism what it is. As a Native person, I see that so much in people who are trying to connect to distant Native ancestry or pluck at our cultures for themselves; they want all the fun parts without the work and pain and misery and trauma.

Idk. It's just such a depressing realization. I'm not longer part of any actual convert groups and I'm glad for that because I don't know how I'd react to people just. Discarding all this work and passion and love as if it's nothing.

[darkjanet2]

Sonic Adventure 2: Sonadow

Chapter 14: The Truth About Maria Robotnik

Inside the Space Colony ARK Sonic, Tails, and Amy roaming around the ship’s halls, they couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was off about their journey. It wasn’t as if they were forgetting something or someone important.

"This place is old and abandoned," said Amy.

"This place was shut down about 50 years ago because of a terrible accident," Tails said. "The first Bernoulli spherical space colony called ARK. When it was operational, it was filled with technology that could take us anywhere in the universe. I read a report that it was a perfect sphere."

"It sure seemed like it!" said Amy.

There's no time to waste before Eggman fires that weapon again," Sonic said. "We need to hurry! Let's destroy that cannon!"

"Right!" said Tails as he typed the keyboard on his computer. He typed several codes into an access terminal until the large computer screen showed one image of a massive gun mounted atop the ARK's main hull.

"Someone designed that weapon in a way that it is impervious to attacks from the outside. Its defense shields are super strong and will only be weakened once fired upon. The only way to defeat the shield is to hit it directly," said Tails as he opened the briefcase there was a topaz gem inside.

"Isn't that a Choas Emerald?" asked Amy.

"Yes, actually, it's a fake one that I created after researching the real Emerald. It has the same properties as the real emerald, but it has been enhanced with my ability to manipulate the energy from my Chaos Emeralds. So we're going to have to be very careful about this mission since Eggman will likely suspect something is amiss at the base. After all, that's where I first made this device," said Tails.

Tails gave the fake Emerald to Sonic, "Here. You go find the control room, and I'll find the power supply and destroy it, okay?"

Sonic nodded, "So the plan is, we'll switch the Choas Emeralds when the machine has stopped, yeah?"

Tails nodded as they both led the way leaving Amy behind.

"There they go again. They always have fun and leave me here all alone! I really never understand boys," she sighed as she headed toward the main hall.

*Meanwhile*

After surviving the spaceship crash, Knuckles glided through the ARK, then landed on the building and the crash sequence was completed. He sighed in relief.

"That was a close call. I guess I got separated from the others for a little while…"He then heard the sound of footsteps approaching him. He quickly turned around and faced the enemy. The figure that approached him was a white bat that wore a pink chest plate shaped like a heart, black leather pants, white gloves with pink tips, and white boots with pink hearts on the toes. She wore blue shadows with long lashes and pink lipstick.

"Well, look who finally joined the party," said Rouge, "I was starting to wonder when you'd show up."

"You again," said Knuckles annoyed.

Rouge smiled, "Come on now, don't be such a sourpuss. After all, isn't it your fault we ended up in trouble?" she asked, holding up the shards of Master Emerald. "With these, I have collected the shards of Emeralds." Knuckles didn't say anything, so Rouge continued. "So what do you say? Want some?"

"Fine, if it's what you want," Knuckles replied. "But I won't give you what I'm holding unless you give the shards to me, bat girl."

Rouge smirked, "Oh, you wish!"

She charged at the echidna. He swiftly sidestepped her attack and used a kick to knock her onto her back. He held out his hand as he bent down towards her, but she quickly grabbed it and flipped herself over. She ran straight at the echidna. Knuckles stood up and kicked her across the floor. Then he caught her as she rolled to a stop next to him. As she got up, she tried to punch him in the face, but Knuckles blocked. He lifted her up by the neck and tossed her aside. He jumped high into the air and tried to punch her down, but she dodged by sticking her foot to the floor. She attempted to throw a punch, but Knuckles blocked that too. They continued to dodge each other's attempts to attack each other. At last, Rouge managed to catch Knuckles in an overhead uppercut. Knuckles crashed right into the wall. He growled.

*Meanwhile*

Amy walked through the corridor, scanning every nook and cranny. She sighed, "I still can't believe this Sonic left me here. Why would he just abandon me?!" Amy muttered angrily as she continued forward.

Suddenly, she noticed the secret laboratory door in front of her. She opened the door and entered the lab, it was a high-tech lab. A workbench covered almost the entire length of the left side wall. An assortment of scientific tools and machinery littered the workspace. Amy looked around the room and found an array of monitors on various parts of the walls. There were screens showing the interior structure of the ARK.

"Wow, that's really neat!" Amy said. She approached the computer desk and stared at the large monitor screen as it displayed the exterior structure of the ship. She tapped the keyboard and the screen changed colors as a 3D hologram appeared. The image showed the ARK exterior and its inner structure. A series of lines connected the two ships. Each line terminated at the same point. One end of a line was connected with the mainframe, which was attached to the control panel. There was a password box on the screen.

"I gotta know what the password is, or else this'll never work!" said Amy aloud. She began searching around the desk until she found a piece of paper in the notebook. The password was Maria.

Amy raised her eyebrow, "Maria? That's a pretty common name, but who named the kid, anyway? Oh well. I have better things to think about anyway." She began typing the password into the computer system. The screen had unlocked and there was a wallpaper of Prof. Gerald Robotnik, Shadow, and a human girl named Maria.

"Who is this girl? Is her name Maria in the password?" wondered Amy as she examined the picture closer.

"She looks pretty. I wonder what happened to Maria 50 years ago?" thought Amy as she went to search through the information on Maria. Her eyes found the DVD under the paper on the desk. She then proceeded to the DVD into the optical disc drive. The video appeared on the screen and she began to watch.

Gerald was on the video footage as it played. The man was standing in front of an empty table that looked like it hadn't been used in a while.

"I'm Professor Gerald Robotnik, the greatest scientist ever to grace the earth," said the professor. He turned around and looked directly at the camera. "And this project that will change the world, is ready to begin. Now all that is left to do is gather the necessary data to complete our project, and we shall finally reach the ultimate form of reality!"

"I have created the Space Colony ARK. This vessel will contain the most advanced spacecraft technology available in the known cosmos. From the moment it leaves Earth's atmosphere, the crew will become the masters of the universe. The ARK is capable of traveling faster than light. In fact, the speed of light may even exceed light speed. We are capable of crossing the void without fear."

Just then the lab door slid open, and Amy gasped and turned to who it was. It was Tails who entered the lab, she sighed in relief.

"You scared the heck out of me, Tails," said Amy.

"Sorry. What did you find?" asked Tails.

"I found a video diary of Prof. Gerald Robotnik talking about how he created the ARK 50 years ago. And there was a story about a girl named Maria," said Amy.

"Maria?" asked Tails.

"Yeah, and you might want to watch it," she resumed the video.

Professor Gerald was speaking in front of the camera, "That day, my granddaughter Maria was diagnosed with NIDS. It is commonly known as Neuro-Immune Deficiency Syndrome. She has been battling the disease for months. But it seems that she has finally conquered the illness and is on her way to recovery. However, there is no doubt that the reason why I've developed the serum that can reverse these conditions is due to the research done by myself. Unfortunately, there is no cure for the disease. I only hope that one day, I can create Project Shadow as her treatment for her condition. Until then, she will need constant supervision over her health, and hopefully, soon she will be able to recover."

"So he created Shadow as her treatment? That doesn't make sense," said Amy.

"How does the NIDS help?" asked Tails.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

In the next part of the video, Prof. Gerald Robotnik was taken to Prison Island and was chained up in a chair, and there was a scribbling calculation on the wall. Amy and Tails gasped in horror.

"This is insane! How you could do something like that?!" yelled Prof. Gereald enraged. "Don't you realize what kind of destruction you're causing!?"

"Of course not. We know you created a dangerous weapon that threatens to wipe out humanity," replied Leader G.U.N. army. "We are going to make you pay for your crimes against mankind. We must destroy it."

"Destroy it?! You must be out of your mind! I am a scientist! Not a killer!" said the professor as he struggled against the chains holding him prisoner.

"What is the difference between a killer and a scientist?!" asked the G.U.N army, "Your kind has always been obsessed with science, with science alone."

"There is nothing wrong with being interested in science! You killed my granddaughter without mercy!" cried the professor.

Amy and Tails gasped in shock. "They killed his granddaughter?" whispered Tails.

"That's so cruel. She was just a kid!" Amy cried in protest.

"I plan to give you a taste of revenge. Once all seven Chaos Emeralds are collected, the colony will destroy the planet! All of you ungrateful humans, who took everything away from me will feel loss and despair!" yelled Gerald in rage on the screen.

"Is there anything else you want to say?" asked the leader.

Gerald hung his head down and spoke quietly, "No..."

The soldier cocked his rifle, "Ready!"

A gunshot rang out and Gerald fell to the ground with a bullet protruding through his head, causing Amy to cover her mouth while Tails shut his eyes tight. The screen went static after a few moments and the screen went black.

Amy slowly laid her hands down from her mouth. "I can't believe they did that... he was executed," she stated sadly as tears formed in her eyes.

"It was horrible...." said Tails softly.

"Should we tell Sonic about this?" asked Amy.

"I'm not sure, but--"

Eggman barged into the room shouting, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOU'RE DOING IN HERE?!" he shouted causing Amy and Tails to scream. He stopped in his tracks and said, "What are you kids doing in here?"

*Meanwhile at the Control Room*

Sonic found the Choas Emeralds on the Eclipse Canon. He took out the fake Emerald and turned on the walkie-talkie.

"Tails, I found the Control Room and Choas Emeralds. Should I put the fake emerald on this now?" Sonic asked yet there was no reply.

"Tails, are you there?" asked Sonic worriedly.

'What's he doing right now?" thought Sonic.

[synergysilhouette]

Choices Review: Desire and Decorum

Continuing on with my Choices book reviews, I've decided to do Desire and Decorum. I'll say this to get it out of the way: I wish it was GOC! For a long time, I reasoned that if our genderlocked main character could be a person of color and STILL climb the social ladder in Regency era England. But then I realized that if our MC was GOC, Duke Richards could be female, and a young man wouldn't be forced to marry an older woman since the odds of her bearing (healthy) children would be very low. But they could've reworked it!!!

That said, I'm not a historian, so I don't know what's realistic here and what's not; this is just my opinion. What I DO know is that 19th-century England settings are so overplayed; I'd much rather prefer Tudor, Elizabethan, or Jacobean-era English stories.

Book 1 follows a young woman who finds out that her father is a wealthy Earl after her mother passes. However, while he receives her well enough, his wife sees you as a threat to her power and her son's inheritance. I was disappointed by the fact that the story starts off with MC losing her mom, and the towards the end of the story, he passes. While necessary for the story, it feels unfortunate that you have to relive the pain. I'd rather MC's mother had already passed before the book began and she found a letter from her that explained her birth. Along with this, it feels very odd being given the option to pair up MC's best friend with her stepbrother who acts very cruel on his mother's behalf.

Book 2 has you becoming the inheritor to your father's estate, having overthrown your stepmother but keeping a good report with your stepbrother (or not; depends on the path you choose). However, your grandmother is steering you towards marrying a duke who simply vies for power. And with no one (besides you and your friends) knowing his true intentions, the queen of England gives her permission for you to marry him. It frustrates me that Duke Richards is who MC's grandmother pushes her towards despite stating that Mr. Sinclair is one of the most eligible bachelors and as one of the wealthiest landowners. Granted, he doesn't offer as much rank as Richards, but it's weird that MC's grandmother can't be persuaded to let her marry him (even if you aren't romancing him).

Book 3 covers the wedding of MC to their LI (unless they're romancing the only female option, in which case she marries a secretly gay man who promises to keep her secret and won't hold her to any marital obligations). But of course, that'd be too easy. Your half-brother (who you thought was dead) is actually alive, and your stepmother poisons him against you--making him a difficult character to appease, especially since he is close to the antagonist of this book's story, who hopes to throw a coup against the queen while overthrowing you as well. The story is strong and interesting-but your brother's role in the situation is repetitive, and the fact that this was released at the same time as two other wedding books (AME 3 and TRR 3) didn't help. Had the writers had the foresight to know what they'd do for book 3, I'd want them to nix the stepmother/stepbrother antagonists in book 1 to avoid it being repetitive. Instead, your stepmother could appear amiable and kind until she reveals her true colors now that her other son (and the one with the strongest claim to the estate) is revealed to be alive. Or perhaps we do a tragic story; she's kind and caring, but when her younger son is revealed to be alive, her relief turns to jealousy and anger towards you for "taking" his birthright from him--and maybe for her husband cheating on her and you being the result (I don't recall if he did or if they weren't married at this time). Of course, even then she'd still be the secondary antagonist. Another route I could've seen for this book (and the series in general) addressing British colonialism in India and Prince Hamid could've been an Indian prince instead of an Ottoman prince, as well as MC's friend being mistreated as a maid as a result of her Indian heritage. But this is just me spitballing; like I said, I'm not a historian.

Overall, it was good, but the time period and genderlocked nature of the series makes me lose interest upon replaying it.

[thevulpinehero1]

Gwatch: Mobile Suit Gundam '79 Ep 3

Time for episode three. Warning, spoilers within!

The Gundam and its two little brothers

In the first half of this episode, we're treated to some slower scenes as the cast settle into their new positions on the ship, giving rations to the rescued civilians and generally taking care of business. Fraw Bow confirms that Amuro is indeed smelly and brings him fresh clothes, Amuro lets Bright live rent-free inside his head, and Sayla Mass talks smack to Bright because she apparently just talks smack to everybody. We are introduced to some worrying news: Bright, acting captain of the spaceship that goes through space and is currently in space at this moment in time, has never been in space before. Great. Wonderful. Bodes well for the future.

We are introduced to an interesting concept, though: when she learns that Bright grew up on Earth, Sayla sarcastically(?) calls him 'one of the elite'. A running theme of almost every Gundam series is a conflict between people living on Earth and people living in space colonies, but the reason tends to differ between series, and I get mixed up between them. Maybe she's hinting at the idea that folks on Earth are surrounded by Earth's bounty of natural resources, and thus are more affluent -- or the idea that being spaceborn (or a 'spacenoid' as it's sometimes called in the series) is a social stigma of some kind.

While it's not necessarily related, I'm somewhat reminded of Becky Chamber's Wayfarer series, taking place in the far future; humankind, weakest in position among the civilised races of space, were forced to abandon Earth en masse and have adapted by becoming an ultra economical species who spend their entire lives in spaceships, religiously recycling and letting no resource go to waste, even eating bugs that other sentients turn their noses up at. I do kind of like the idea of a future humanity who've learned their lesson.

Meanwhile, Char has requested reinforcements, but is dismayed to only get two Zakus instead of the three he asked for. Here we learn that Zeon is no longer overflowing with resources, and it too has been taxed by the war effort; while the Earth Federation has been and will be on the back foot for the time being, Zeon's powers are not unlimited. Even the ship delivering Char's supplies is so old he's surprised to see it still in service.

We can also infer that, despite his fearsome skills as a mobile suit operator, Char's reputation in Zeon might not be that great -- the man delivering them, Gadem, immediately jokes that he must have screwed up. Char's uncertain position in Zeon's political environment will be, let's say, a running theme.

After Mirai (in a surprising moment of bloodthirst) suggests they attack pre-emptively while Char is supplying, the White Base holds a vote. Most are in favour, but Bright tellingly waits until Amuro casts his vote in support before calling it. Of course, Amuro is the only real fighting force they have, so the vote is an essentially meaningless show of democracy if he says no; if they kill or confine him to force obedience, they have no pilot and the show cannot go on.

Thanks to Amuro teaching Ryu (trained soldier, core fighter pilot) not to attack when the sun is in his eyes and maybe position so that the enemy has to do that instead, they manage to land a few good shots on the supply ship. But it's not long before the Red Comet comes out to play.

Char Aznable, about to deliver an ass-kicking

Amuro still has absolutely no shot of beating Char in a fair fight, and gets solidly whupped. He runs out of ammo for his bazooka and even attempts the famed bazooka yeet for the very first time (one of my favourite SRW30 animations, incidentally), but to no avail; Char, having realised that the Zaku's weapons aren't really doing much, resorts to just smacking the shit out of the Gundam with punches and kicks. It's been pointed out before that this is absolutely the correct play; even if he can't damage the machine, the knocks and g-forces will eventually take out the pilot, who is currently by far the weakest link in the suit. However, the White Base's advance on the valuable supplies means he has to prioritise supporting his own mothership instead of going for the kill.

Meanwhile, the inexperience of the White Base's crew starts to show; Hayato doesn't even know how to pass a message to the bridge, Ryu can't be contacted because he forgot to turn on his comms, and that means they can't fire the main cannons at the enemy without hitting him. Even Bright gets in on the panicking action as the battle goes on. But Kai and Hayato launch in the Guntank, a shiny new toy that they both sort of know how to use.

The Guntank's first outing is a success and the supply ship is downed, but the Zakus have already been evacuated. Gadem, the supply ship captain, tries to 1v1 the Gundam in revenge; while he is indeed a superior pilot to Amuro and gets in a powerful shoulder tackle when Amuro attacks too quickly, the Gundam ultimately just tanks him, just like it's tanked everything so far. Amuro is forced to withdraw, with no weapons and no chance of handling Char; the Red Comet decides to prioritize salvaging what supplies he can, musing about his enemy. He's already sussed out that he's being beaten by the enemy weapons, and the soldiers piloting them fight like amatuers.

After some more headbutting with Bright, the episode ends as the White Base pulls closer to Luna II. But just because they're near an allied base doesn't mean Char isn't out to get them, and tensions are already beginning to heighten within the crew.

[jaybug-jabbers]

The reptile expo was very interesting to check out yesterday. It was my first expo experience. Definitely geared towards reptiles of course but a decent number of invert people were also vending.

Among the invert crowd, arachnids definitely dominated, mostly tarantulas, as well as jumping spiders and some scorpions. Also some centipedes and milipedes. Almost no insects (other than feeders of course), but saw a random katydid. Surprised at the lack of mantids.

Loads of animals overall being sold, but also a decent amount of pet supplies being sold too. I bought some more cork bark hides. Somebody was selling isopod chow but it was mostly ground corn and other grains and didn't really interest me.

Strangely, a large number of children were there. That took me by surprise, it wasn't really an event for children, it was an expo for selling 'exotic' pets. I had the feeling many parents were using it as a sort of 'zoo' for their kids, lol. But I suppose there's no harm in that, the animals were carefully monitored by the vendors after all and it's good to spark interest in these lovely creatures. So long as the parents are not buying these animals without due diligence in researching their proper care and handling, of course.

Some people from a local zoo were also there (I didn't notice which zoo), they brought a few animals to show off to the crowds and give a little educational talk, an alligator and a snapping turtle.

Unfortunately, there were not many vendors actually selling isopods. Perhaps four vendors in total? I saw a lot of Cubaris and Porcellio species being sold, but I am not currently interested in getting those. (Waiting to be more experienced before I try Cubaris. As for Porcellio, they reproduce too much, I'd rather not be overwhelmed by their numbers.) Also a lot of Vulgare Magic Potions, they seem to be very popular! I did see a few folks selling Zebras but alas, no color morphs for the Zebras.

I spoke with some of the vendors, too. Trying to see how many of them were local. After all it would be cool to have local people who are into the hobby. The ones I spoke to all reported driving out to this expo from a neighboring state, unfortunately. It seems isopod people are a bit spread out here. Still, I'm in California . . . there's bound to be some folks not too far who are into them. There's a lot of people here, after all!

I may not have found Chocolate Zebras, but I didn't walk away empty-handed. I ended up buying ten Armadillidium c.f. espanyoli "Marbelized." A species I had read about online and thought was very lovely. I moved them individually with a spoon to their new enclosure because I was paranoid about dwarfs (the vendor was selling them too and I've read such horror stories about them), thus the spoon in the photo.

Sadly when I got home, I found several were defintiely dead, though. There's also three that have been curled in a ball and have yet to uncurl and I worry they are dead too. I will leave them for several more days but don't hold out hope. If they are indeed dead, it means I only have 6 live individuals, which is unfortunate. Hopefully the remainders can establish a colony anyway. No way of knowing until we wait and see.

(Note: I left for home pretty much as soon as I purchased them and transported them in an air-conditioned car a very short distance to my house, so I know the poor lads didn't expire thanks to me.)

Focusing on the positive, though-- they really are a gorgeous species. Small but beautiful. The one in the photo is smaller than the others, a juvenile got tossed in the mix. Anyway, they apparently love a lot of humidity which is not a problem because I love to hydrate my pods. They are supposedly not especially shy but they will definitely be harder to see when there's so few of them and they are so small. If I can get a larger colony going though they should be very fun to watch. Perhaps when it cools down a bit (still triple-digit weather outside, this summer has been intense) I could buy some more via mail.

[depressocafe]

Hey, do me a favor and perhaps be quiet or rewatch the show? Because you missed a few things.

Allura WAS racist, no shit. It was a trauma response the entirety of the galra slaughtered her mother, her father, any friends she had, her entire race and obliterated her planet. She lost everything she ever knew and understood everything that's been with her since the day she was conceived. And why? Because the entirety of the galra went Ahab.

She doesn't have the right to be racist of course but she's not behaving like that due to some narcissistic sense of self worth or Justice. She behaved like that because the trauma put her into survival mode. Plus, she fixed her behavior, faster than any REAL Racist that you'd see walking around in America. She treated Keith poorly, realized her own behavior, explained why she behaved that way, stated she was wrong and apologized for her actions telling Keith she hopes to God he comes back alive. Why? Because she loves him. And she loved Lotor. And afterwards she worked her ass off to help and support the blade of marmora who's society is compromised of entirely galra. She even went into galra central command to fight galra with the blade of marmora. If she was truly against the entire galra she would never have done that because her first instinct would be, "well they'll just turn on me and kill me." But she didn't do that did she?

Did you forget Lotor treated allura and her team like literal shit before he allied with team Voltron? Manipulating them, tormenting them, using them, attacking them, attempting to kill them? Of course it would take Lotor killing his father to prove that he's good and on their side since up until this point he hasn't done much to prove that aside from giving a bit of Intel.

And also, allura isn't trying to relate to Lotor in this scene. She has absolutely no idea how he's feeling. What she's trying to do for Lotor is remind him that he's no longer alone and now has real friends and allies.

It's never been about her. She's never tried to make it about her. All allura has done is try her best to be a strong and good individual while protecting what little she has left. I'm so sorry you piece of shit, that young girl went through trauma no one else on planet earth has gone through and her brain had to change the very way it thinks as a response to it all just to survive.

Also, before I end this, don't forget Lotor is problematic himself. It wasn't just allure who hated galra. Lotor was out here with a holocaust like mentality. for 10,000+ years hated the galra with every fiber of his being, to the point that he thought about exterminating them all. Did you forget he used and manipulated his generals? Did you forget he lied to alteans about going to a new colony only to farm them for their quintessence and later admit it? Did you forget that after proving his worth to Voltron by killing zarkon he proceeded to betray them all just because they disagreed with his behavior? "But his behavior and trauma is justified." And allura's isn't!? Especially after she took a good look in the mirror and bettered herself!? For the galra!? The very people you say she hates!?

I am going to say sorry if any of this is unnecessarily aggressive, that behavior is not my intention. My intention is to make a point. The Voltron fandom was incredibly toxic and one of the things we did as a fandom was target characters and abuse them while holding other characters in high regard. Now I've never targeted a character but there are characters in Voltron that I tend to adore despite how horrible they are. Such as Sendak, a Homicidal Racist. But outside of that I've always tried to see characters in a realistic light which is why the constant abuse towards allura and the idolization of Lotor Irked me so. It isn't right. I'm not saying both characters should be hated but both should be seen for their worth and actions and respected. They are both imperfect but they at least try. It's toxic for a fandom to behave otherwise and it's part of the reason Voltron failed as a show and why other fandoms hate us. Please understand.

GOOD NEWS: murdering your father benefitted me, like rip (not really) your dad, but now it's enough proof that you're cool enough to sit at our table

That is not the vibes you wanna give someone after they were forced into a situation where they had to murder their father figure, no matter how awful they were or how dire the stakes.

Can we get her a crash course in actual empathy because she can't keep trying to relate to people's feelings by bringing up her father's death or being racist.

[the-ultimate-imagine-blog]

thank u for carrying the xenoblade writing community 🙏 could i make a rq of dunban reuniting with reader again after thinking they had fallen at the battle of sword valley ? either a oneshot or imagines for it would be appreciated ^-^

👍 Happy to write for one of my favorite series.

Reunion with Dunban.

He was absolutely certain you were gone. Your injuries... All that blood... He felt like he failed to protect you. He did everything he could to hold in tears he wanted to shed. He didn't deserve to cry. Here he was recovering while so many lives were lost.

Well, fortunately you actually lived. Barely. You had to recover on your own, so it took you a long time until you fully recovered. You were back on your way to Colony 9. It was going to be a long trip but it was time to go home.

Between recovering and the long travel, it was about a little over a year until you reached Colony 9. You weren't paying too much attention to your surroundings as you were mostly focusing on seeing a certain someone. Dunban.

You opened the door to his house, as it was unlocked as usual. You nearly bumped into Dunban himself as he was just about to head out.

His eyes widened when he saw you. You were alive?

"Long time no see?" You gave a slight smile.

"(Y/n)... I thought you..."

"I'm sorry... I wish I could have gotten here sooner..."

"It's fine. I'm just glad you're alive and well." He smiles. He tries to hold in tears. Being close to him, you knew.

"Hey now," you say, placing both of your hands on each side of his face. "Don't hold them in. Let it out. Please?"

He chuckled, unable to hold them in any longer. A few escape, silently falling down his face. His arm wraps around you, and you bring your arms down to return the gesture.

A few seconds later he pulls away. "As much as I would like to catch up with you, I'm afraid I have to go."

"Did something happen?" You tilt your head.

"A lot happened. The Mechon are back."

"They are!?"

"Indeed. Dickson and I are planning to catch up to Shulk and Reyn. They already went out to take care of them."

"I'll come too then! You can tell me everything on the way!"

"Are you certain? You just got back."

You nod. "Of course! I need to give 'em some payback! I still can fight!"

"Very well. Let us be off then."

You nod and walk alongside him as you both make your way over to Dickson.

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a Chinese, nationally and racially. Racial projection seems to be a common practice in western fandom, doesn't it? I find it a bit... weird to witness the drama ignited upon shipping individuals with different races, or the tendency to separate characters into different "colors" even though the world setting doesn't divide races like that. Such practice isn't a thing here. Mind explaining a bit on this phenomenon?

--

Sure, I can try. But of course, fish aren’t very good at explaining the water they swim in.

Americans aren’t good at detecting our own Americanness, and a lot of what you’re seeing is very much culturally American rather than Western in general. (In much of Europe, “race” is a concept used by racists, or so I’m told, unlike in the US where it’s seen more neutrally.) Majority group members (i.e. me, a white girl) aren’t usually the savviest about minority issues, but I’ll give it a shot.

The big picture is that most US race stuff boils down to our attempts to justify and maintain slavery and that dynamic being applied, awkwardly, to everyone else too, even years after we abolished slavery.

There’s a concept called the “one drop rule” where a person is “black” if they have even one drop of black blood.

We used to outlaw “interracial” marriage until quite recently. (That meant marriage between black people and white people with Asians and Hispanic people and others wedged in awkwardly.) Here’s the Wikipedia article on this, which contains the following map showing when we legalized interracial marriage. The red states are 1967.

That’s within living memory for a ton of people! Yellow is 1948 to 1967. This is just not very long ago at all. (Hell, we only fully banned slavery in 1865, which is also just not that long ago when it comes to human culture.)

Why did we have this bananas-crazy set of laws and this idiotic notion that one remote ancestor defines who you are? It boils down to slavery requiring a constant reaffirming that black people are all the same (and subhuman) while white people are all this completely separate category. The minute you start intermarrying, all of that breaks down. This was particularly important in our history because our system of slavery involved the kids of slaves being slaves and nobody really buying their way out. Globally, historically, there are other systems of slavery where there was more mobility or where enslaved people were debtors with a similar background to owners, and thus the people in power were less threatened by ambiguity in identity.

Post-slavery, this shit hung around because it was in the interests of the people in power to maintain a similar status quo where black people are fundamentally Other.

A lot of our obsession with who counts as what is simply a legacy of our racist past that produced our racist present.

--

The other big factor in American concepts of identity is that we see ourselves as a nation of immigrants (ignoring our indigenous peoples, as usual). A lot of people’s families arrived here relatively recently, and we often don’t have good records of exactly where they were from, even aside from enslaved people who obviously wouldn’t have those records. Plenty of people still identify with a general nationality (”Italian-American” and such), but the nuance the family might once have had (specific region of Italy, specific hometown) is often lost. Yeah, I know every place has immigrants, and lots of people don’t have good records, but the US is one of those countries where families have on average moved around a lot more and a lot more recently than some, and it affects our concepts of identity. I think some of the willingness to buy into the idea of “races” rather than “ethnicities” has to do with this flattening of identity.

New immigrant groups were often seen as Other and lesser, but over time, the ones who could manage it got added to our concept of “whiteness”, which gave them access to those same social and economic privileges.

Skin color is a big part of this. In a system that is founded on there being two categories, white owners and black slaves, skin color is obviously going to be about that rather than being more of a class marker like it is in a lot of the world.

But it’s not all about skin color since we have plenty of Europeans with somewhat darker skin who are seen as generically white here, while very pale Asians are not. I’m not super familiar with all of the history of anti-Asian racism in the US, but I think this persistent Otherness probably boils down to Western powers trying to justify colonial activities in Asia plus a bunch of religious bullshit about predominantly Christian nations vs. ones that are predominantly Buddhist or some other religion.

In fact, a lot of racist archetypes in English can be traced back to England’s earliest colonial efforts in Ireland. Justifying colonizing Those People because they’re subhuman and/or ignorant and in need of paternalistic rulers or religious conversion is at the bottom of a lot of racist notions. Ironic that we now see Irish people as clearly “white”.

--

There are a lot of racist porn tropes and racist cultural baggage here around the idea of black people being animalistic. Racist white people think black men want to rape/steal white women from white men. Black women get seen as hypersexual and aggressive. If this sounds like white people projecting in order to justify murder and rape... well, it is.

Similar tropes get applied to a lot of groups, often including Hispanic and Middle Eastern people, though East Asians come in more for creepy fantasies about endlessly submissive and promiscuous women. This nonsense already existed, but it was certainly not helped by WWII servicemen from here and their experiences in Asia. Again, it’s a projection to justify shitty behavior as what the party with less power was “asking for”.

In porn and even romance novels, this tends to turn up as a white character the audience is supposed to identify with paired with an exotic, mysterious Other or an animalistic sexy rapist Other.

A lot of fandoms are based on US media, so all of our racist bullshit does apply to the casting and writing of those, whether or not the fic is by Americans or replicating our racist porn tropes.

(Obviously, things get pretty hilarious and infuriating once Americans get into c-dramas and try to apply the exact same ideas unchanged to mainstream media about the majority group made by a huge and powerful country.)

--

Politically, within the US, white people have had most of the power most of the time. We also make up a big chunk of the population. (This is starting to change in some areas, which has assholes scared shitless.) This means that other groups tend to band together to accomplish shared political goals. They’re minorities here, so they get lumped together.

A lot of Americans become used to seeing the world in terms of “white people” who are powerful oppressors and “people of color” who are oppressed minorities. They’re trying to be progressive and help people with less power, and that’s good, but it obviously becomes awkward when it’s over-applied to looking at, say, China.

--

Now... fandom...

I find that fandom, in general, has a bad habit of holding things to double standards: queer things must be Good Representation™ even when they’re not being produced for that purpose. Same for ethnic minorities or any other minority. US-influenced parts of fandom (which includes a lot of English-speaking fandom) tend to not be very good at accepting that things are just fantasy. This has gotten worse in recent years.

As fandom has gotten more mainstream here, general media criticism about better representation (both in terms of number of characters and in terms of how they’re portrayed) has turned into fanfic criticism (not enough fics about ship X, too many about ship Y, problematic tropes that should not be applied to ship X, etc.). I find this extremely misguided considering the smaller reach of fandom but, more importantly, the lack of barriers to entry. If you think my AO3 fic sucks, you can make an account and post other fic that will be just as findable. You don’t need money or industry connections or to pass any particular hurdle to get your work out there too.

People also (understandably) tend to be hypersensitive to anything that looks like a racist porn trope. My feeling is that many of these are general porn tropes and people are reaching. There are specific tropes where black guys are given a huge dick as part of showing that they’re animalistic and hypersexual, but big dicks are really common in porn in general. The latter doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing the former unless there are other elements present. A/B/O or dubcon doesn’t mean it’s this racist trope either, not unless certain cliched elements are present. OTOH, it’s not hard for a/b/o tropes to feel close to “animalistic guy is rapey”, so I can see why it often bothers people.

A huge, huge, huge proportion of wank is “all rape fantasies are bad” crap too, which muddies the waters. I think a lot of people use “it’s racist” as an easy way to force others to agree with their incorrect claims that dubcon, noncon, a/b/o, etc. are fundamentally bad. Many fans, especially white fans, feel like they don’t know enough to refute claims of racism, so they cave to such arguments even when they’re transparently disingenuous.

--

Not everyone here thinks this way. I know plenty of people offline, particularly a lot of nonwhite people, who think fandom discourse is idiotic and that the people “protecting” people or characters of color are far more racist than the people writing “bad” fic or shipping the wrong thing.

But in general, I’d say that the stuff above is why a lot of us see the world as white people in power vs. everyone else as oppressed victims, interracial relationships as fraught, and porn about them as suspect. Basically, it’s people trying to be more progressive and aware but sometimes causing more harm than good when those attempts go awry.

[honorhearted]

"I'm from Oxfordshire. I haven't been in the colonies very long. Do I sound that much like a tourist?"

Squinting back at her through the dark, Ben hesitated a moment before echoing, "A tourist? As in...?" Tory? Was this a new term of affiliation with the king?

Slackening his hold on Claire somewhat, his jaw tightened and he looked straight ahead. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar," he said. "As much as I'd love to travel the world, our current frictions have made that out of the question. I imagine were anyone there to overhear my accent, I'd be strung up on the spot."

It was perhaps an over-exaggeration; here, after all, he didn't know anyone who'd befallen such a fate, and yet the idea of world travel still certainly gave him pause.

Once the matter shifted to Claire's manservant, Ben felt her stiffen against him -- perhaps out of fear? -- and she was quick to deny his offer. Brow furrowing, he agreed, "Very well, but...are you sure you don't want to check and see if he's alive? We have a very excellent, albeit crude medic back in camp who could lend his expertise."

"Are you bleeding?"

"Uh..." Giving himself a brief once-over, Ben slowly shook his head. "I don't think so," he allowed. "But then in my experience, shock tends to hide pain until much later." He shrugged. "I'll be fine. Were I to have any devastating wounds, I would've keeled over by now."

Claire's brow furrowed slightly at the odd slang Benjamin used; although she didn't understand his diction, she at least knew the man's tone was unthreatening. She supposed that would have to be comfort enough, all things considered.

"Your accent is unlike anything I have ever heard before... I can't quite place it. Are you from the south, by chance?"

"The south of England, yes." She glanced over her shoulder at Benjamin as she spoke. "I'm from Oxfordshire. I haven't been in the colonies very long. Do I sound that much like a tourist?" She feigned a smile even though she was certain the jest was lost on the soldier.

"Was your manservant stolen? I don't recall seeing anyone else in the woods, nor a scuffle... If he was taken with your belongings, perhaps I can send a scout out to canvass the area..."

"No," she retorted, rather quickly, "I... I think he's dead. He seemed dead at least when I had to leave him behind." She did almost a doubletake as she glanced back at the man again, trying to find any way to divert the topic of conversation away from herself; she needed time to think of a better lie that the complete hogwash she'd already fed the man.

"Are you bleeding?"

@honorhearted

[mctherofdragons]

A Sanctuary Heart | 3 | SR

summary / after her abusive husband lands her in the intensive care unit, y/n changes her identity and moves as far away as possible. upon starting her new life, she meets dr.spencer reid and his son, maddox, when she begins her job as a teacher. but can she keep herself safe and keep up the facade with spencer? can she be safe at all?

pairing / spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings / slowburn romance, fluff, angst, marriage, trauma, domestic violence/abuse, dad!spencer, wheelchair use, paralysis, injury, ptsd flashbacks, car accident/serious injury, bullying, mention of ableism, a singular mention of god.

important links / series masterlist + domestic violence resources

authors note / i absolutely adored writing this chapter, omg. we get more of spencer and maddox's backstory. and things start to get a little more exciting as the rest of the team makes their first appearance! thank you all for the great feedback so far, i'm so glad you're enjoying the series. also my tags are not working, so reblogs on this chapter would be insanely appreciated. Flashbacks are in italics!

Seeing the blood on your hand, Spencer instinctively reached out to grab your wrist gently. You snatched your hand back, bringing yourself up to your feet, wobbling. You grabbed your bag, wrapping your hand in your scarf that you had managed to take off in the cool October night.“Ivy,” he said the moniker one more time and you felt your insides reel once more.

‘I’m a liar, Dr. Reid, I wish you knew,’ you thought to yourself, stumbling to search for your keys under the warm glow of the moon.

“I have to go. Thank you for dinner,” you contended, making your way out of the side gate. Spencer watched in confusion as you made your way out quickly. He figured he ought to chose his battles, not wanting to startle you by following after you.

Once you were safe inside your car, you sat in the driver’s seat, hands gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life. You felt a sharp combination of embarrassment and frustration. You wanted the flit of light that came from the possibility of new love. But instead, the one before had taken everything from you. Even now, all these miles and a new name away, he was pulling you away from those little flickers of brilliance and back into the darkness of yourself.

_____________________________

2 years earlier.

“Maddox,” Spencer whispered, feeling his heavy eyelids open just slightly. He was disoriented, noticing that the once right-side-up roadway was now upside down instead. The loud blaring of the horn was constant. It sent a piercing sound into Spencer’s ears and head, which caused him to wince. “Maddox.”

Spencer tried to turn, but he couldn’t move. Something had him pinned in the driver’s seat. He looked into the review mirror, which by grace alone wasn’t entirely broken. Maddox was slumped in his car seat, blood trickling down onto his Toy Story tee shirt. Spencer let out a weak gasp, trying again with no avail to move.

Spencer noticed how cold it was. It had been snowing all night, and Spencer wasn’t sure how long they had been where they are now. The snow had fallen through the shattered glass, tiny flakes gathering anywhere they could.

Using all of his strength, he turned his head to his wife. Her eyes were half shut, a trickle of crimson come from her mouth.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered. “Are you alright?”

She began to speak, but began to sputter, her lungs sounding flooded. Her hand curled and uncurled, and Spencer could barely reach it. He was able to hold onto her fingertips with his. They felt ice-cold like she was already three steps into Eternity. Spencer knew that type of frigid touch. He had come in content with it a million times, and the person on the other end was never living.

“D-don’t talk, baby. Okay? The ambulance is coming. Do you hear them? We’re going to be okay.”

Spencer could hear the medics somewhere far off in the distance. The repeated echo of the sirens sounded like a band of angels to him. Spencer Reid admittedly didn’t believe in the Judeo-Christian God. He wasn’t sure what he gave credence to, in fact. But at that moment, inverted in the shattered glass, surrounded by the labored breathing of his dying wife...he prayed.

________________________________

Spencer walked into the Bureau, adjusting the brown satchel on his shoulder. His brow looked furrowed as he sipped from his paper coffee cup. He couldn’t stop thinking about the way you left, trying to profile what exactly had gone wrong between the Merlot and you rushing out of his backyard.

“Penny for your thoughts?,” Emily piqued as Spencer sat down, tossing his bag onto his desk. Spencer let out an exasperating sigh, taking another drink of his coffee.

“Just trying to figure someone out.”

“Oh, oh, oh. Is this a lady someone?,” Derek queried, wiggling his eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning onto Spencer’s desk with a sparkling grin.

“Maybe.”

Spencer felt himself smiling despite his best efforts. Emily opened her mouth in surprise, giving Derek a playful shove.

“I told you he would get back out there, Morgan!”

Spencer smiled. “Yeah, she’s sweet. I just...don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

That morning, Spencer had put on his wedding band. He still did it when he was scared, or nervous, or needing to feel close to her. He would feel the cool metal atop his finger and feel less alone. For a brief moment when the metallic touched his skin, he could pretend she was still here.

Derek gave Spencer’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“I hope you know me and Prentiss are just messing with you. We care about you, kid. We know these past two years have been hell for you. Just want you to be happy.”

“Yeah…I appreciate that. I just…,” Spencer paused, bringing his hands up as he spoke, as was so akin to him. His lip curled into the smallest smile. “Seeing this girl interact with Maddox. She...loves him for him..already?”

“Maddox is a great kid, Reid.”

“I know. I just don’t want her to find out---”

Spencer’s sentence was cut off by Hotch appeared, letting everyone know they had a case and to meet for Round Table. Spencer quickly shot a text to Maddox’s home health nurse, letting her know he’d need coverage for a few days.

________________________________

You sat in the front of your classroom, your eyes scanning from the test in front of you to the answer key. The students were working on a Social Studies project in small groups. Their task was to read a short story about colonial times and fill out a short worksheet. If they finished early they were permitted to color, which most of the children thoroughly enjoyed.

“Maddox can’t use crayons,” you heard a small voice snicker. You raised your eyebrow, hoping it wasn’t harmful, and rather just an observation.

You heard another child sling a slur at Maddox, who was sitting quietly with his aide, trying to ignore them. But as you looked up, you saw Maddox’s tiny bottom lip begin to wobble. One of the children picked up a crayon and threw it at Maddox, hitting him in the shoulder.

“He can’t even feel that! My dad said that’s why he’s in a wheelchair,” the bully jeered again, high-fiving his friend.

You stood up with a loud squeak of your chair against the linoleum floor.

“You two. Principals office. Now.”

The rest of the class erupted in a chorus of childish ‘ooo’s. You clapped your hands together - your universal signal to quiet down.

“I did not ask for comments from the audience,” you scolded. The children settled down, going back to their work, whispering amongst one another.

“Maddox, come talk to me in the hallway,” you offered. Tears were rolling down Maddox’s cheeks. His aide reached over with a tissue to wipe them, but he turned his face away, one of the only ways he could physically set a boundary.

Maddox’s aide helped him into the hallway and then left the two of you alone. You sat down on one of the small, metal benches in the hallway. At this angle, you were about Maddox’s height. He was blubbering, trying to take deep breaths as more tears came. You pulled a small, clean, cloth handkerchief from your pocket. He let you dab his cheeks, giving him a gentle click of the tongue.

“Buddy, do you want to talk about it?”

“T-they’re so m..m..mean to me,” he whimpered, closing his eyes as more tears fell. “And, and, and I can’t play with them even, that’s why. I can’t do anything!”

You nodded empathetically, gently catching more of Maddox’s tears.

“I hate school! My daddy wants me to like school. It’s all he talks about. I hate him!”

“Maddox,” you softly redirected. “That’s not very nice. You don’t hate your dad.”

Maddox looked a deep breath. You smiled, knowing Spencer must have taught him to do that when he was upset.

“You’re right. But I’m sad, and I wanna go home.”

You sighed, reaching up to blot the little bit of redness still present on Maddox’s cheeks. You adjusted his glasses, moving some of his curly brown hair from underneath the metal.

“Just a few more hours, okay? We have library at the end of the day.”

Maddox’s face lit up, his apple cheeks glowing beneath the rims of his glasses. “Library!”

“Yes, and just for this week, you can take home two books.”

______________________________

Spencer felt distracted the entire flight to Vermont. He knew he was going to be far away for a while, and that Maddox wouldn’t know until he got out of school for the day. The agent detested when he had to leave without Maddox knowing in advance, but it was usually impossible given the nature of things. Thankfully, Reid had a good setup of support through healthcare and respite so Maddox never went without someone to care for him.

Then, there was you. He couldn’t stop thinking about your reaction. He had seen it before in abuse victims. The way you flinched when he moved too fast, the apologizing like your life depended on it, even the way you looked at him with pleading eyes, desperate to avoid a blow. He bridged his fingers together, thinking to himself for a moment.

With that, he stood up, making his way to the back of the plane. He unlocked his phone while he chewed his fingernail with his free hand. Before he knew it, he was calling Garcia.

“Penelope. Hey, I need a favor. A personal one. If you could keep it between us, that would be great.”

“Anything for you, my precious string bean.”

Spencer laughed. “I need you to get all the information you can on someone. Ivy Porter.”

“Ivy Porter. That’s like a movie star name. What did she do?”

“Um..nothing, I don’t think. Just call me when you’ve got something, and email me everything you find.”

“You got it. Every in and out of Ms. Ivy Porter coming to you soon. Be safe. Talk soon.”

With that, Penelope clicked off of the call. Spencer sat back down, anxiously waiting for whatever information Penelope could find about you.

___________

series/criminal minds taglist: @hufflepuffhaze @omghufflepuff @txtdreamss @rainbows-dreams @bvttercupbby @k-k0129 @rexit-mo @britishspidey @graciehams @manuosorioh @shemarmooresfedora @big-galaxy-chaos @thatoneszesty13 @ssavanessa22 @awritingtree @sweetandsunny​ @rainsong01 @kuolonsyoja @taralewiz @bluelittleblackgirl @asexual-booknerd @the-wolfie

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Epoch (Part 4): Keizo Arashi x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Keizo lets you into his little circle, but it comes at a price. Are you ready to find out what answers he has for you, though?

a/n: I know no one really likes this series, but I guess I'm gonna keep writing it!

wc: 1.1k

tw: none

previous part🪐masterlist🪐next part

song recommendation:

"What's the Commander Conservatory like?"

One shell.

"It's kind of like school, except you get a lot of training on which stars to avoid, which planets we have treaties with, different languages... the works." Keizo sits in his chair across from the bed, flipping the peach-colored coin in his hand.

"What happened on your last mission?" You toss him another shell and he catches it mid-air, holding it in his hand with the other one.

"Fleet went into the wormhole and ran right into a surprise attack. My ship seems to be the only one that made it out."

"And you were the Commander of that fleet?" Keizo waits, staring at you blankly. "Oh." You toss him another shell.

"Yep."

"What's a wormhole?" Keizo frowns.

"It's like a hallway, almost. You enter into it, and it can take you anywhere - mostly, and if you nav right. But it ripples through time and space, so you might be beholden to some... after-effects if you do it wrong."

"Oh."

"I'll give that to you for free. Didn't have to pay a dime for that information; found out the hard way." You pause, thinking of one last question, though you have many, many shells. You toss him one more.

"Who is your tattoo for?"

"You don't know?" Keizo laughs, pocketing every single shell you've thrown at him. "It represents my brother, Levar Arashi. He's the person you all hate the most - the one who took over the entire solar system you call home and made it the Vanguard Colonies."

Levar Arashi...

Once you return to your room, you flip through your old, worn textbooks and look for the picture of the man mentioned. And sure enough, you find a semi-defaced picture of the very man on page 248.

You flinch at how similar he looks to Keizo, even though it's been many, many years since he was last seen in the Vanguard Colonies. The white hair... the grey eyes... the strong jaw...

You inhale deeply. Is it possible that Keizo is just like him? Just as ambitious? And if so, did that mean he wanted to keep you enslaved, just like your people? Or would he help free you from those invisible shackles?

_____________________________________________________________

Most days you're content to watch Keizo come and go from the house like a thief in the night, without much fanfare or fawning from your mother and nothing from your father. He doesn't even come to the house for meal times like everyone else.

From dawn until dusk, he remains in the shipyard, overseeing the modifications and repairs being made to his ship. But you know as well as he does that even if he tries to speed things up, he won't be off Chrono any time soon.

"Are you upset that you have to stay here?" you wonder innocently, placing a shell on his desk while you pace around the room for the fifth night in a row.

"More than upset. Furious."

"You don't look like it," you state, glancing over at him in the waning light of the suns.

"Rage is an emotion best kept inside yourself," he recites plainly. "There's no reason for me to take it out on anyone but myself."

"Is it because your brother was such a standout that you feel like you have to live up that legacy?" He catches the shell you toss at him.

"That's none of your business." You hold your hand out.

"Then I want my shell back." Keizo flings it back at you, face still blank. "You said your people don't worship any gods. Why?" You toss the shell back to him, but it lands in his lap.

"Because we see how your people are."

"What's the supposed to mean?" you wonder, but you already know the answer.

"Primitive. You don't allow tattoos, sex prior to marriage, nor a choice in who you marry if you're a woman. Seems backward to me that you can't even explore other planets without becoming a service member to the very people who enslaved you here on this hell of a station."

You look at him curiously. Hell of a station.

"So you'll help me get off this planet." A statement, not a question.

"Not happening, sweetheart. Sorry." Keizo chuckles and stands, smoothing out his pants. "Besides, I'm already in deep shit. I'll take my chances on you staying right here on Chrono."

"I thought we were becoming friends," you reply, trying to look as sullen as you can as you move to exit, holding your almost empty jar of shells.

"Not even close," he laughs, shutting the door behind you with a finality.

_____________________________________________________________

"I don't get it," you mutter, tossing the outer layer of the edible seeds into the glass. "He acts like he can answer all of these questions about his life, then says we aren't friends." Hakkai and Mitsuya look at each other for a brief second, then back to you. "What?" you gripe, tossing another seed into your empty glass.

"Just letting you vent before we give our million-shell advice."

"Go ahead..."

"How about getting to know his crew?" Hakkai begins, raising his brow. "Might give you more insight about why he is the way he is."

"And it would be free this time around."

"You guys are geniuses," you state, hopping down from the barstool. "I'm gonna go try it right now! Thanks!"

"I'll add it to your tab!" Mitsuya states as you leave the bar in a hurry, walking briskly to the shipyard. When you find the ship, Shinichiro peeks his head over the navigation, eyes bleary.

"Keizo should be at home, y/n," he announces, raising his brows.

"Not looking for him," you announce, climbing the side of the ship. "I'm looking for you guys, actually."

"Whatever for?" Wakasa wonders, wiping his eyes.

"Just want to get to know you," you smile, sitting on the edge of the wing. "Y'know, since you'll be here for a while."

"Takeomi is asleep..." Shin mutters, looking at Waka. "So this might be your best opportunity."

"What d'you want to know?" Waka asks, stretching out on the wing.

"And we won't charge you," Shin adds, laughing. "You being here and making us chuckle is enough."

"We should start with how you guys all got here. I mean, I know Waka isn't like you, Shin. And you're not like Takeomi, so..."

"Perhaps we should start where we each come from..." Waka murmurs, looking up at the stars above with a wistful look. You look up with him, wishing you could see everything as he describes it, with a familiarity and a distant sense of comfort.

[pitviperofdoom]

"Vet AU" as in veterinarian? Definitely curious about that, vets don't get nearly enough love in fiction :) I had never considered that as an AU, but now I'm immediately picturing how it would go!

The Vet AU! Yes, Vet as in Veterinarian.

This one’s a bit scattered, so I’ll just post what I have written and let it speak for itself:

---

Martin was in the middle of doing payroll when Sasha poked her head into the office with a polite knock on the doorframe. “Hey Martin, Room 2 is ready for you.”

“Oh! Thanks.” Quickly, Martin finished filling in the last number, then saved the spreadsheet and got up from his chair. At the sight of her, he bit back a chuckle—she had one of the new puppies settled against her shoulder, wiggling and poking around like a furry little worm. “Tim leave you on babysitting duty?”

“Not his fault,” Sasha said with a grin. “He’s dealing with the rottweiler situation in 5. You good?”

“Yeah, fine—remind me who’s waiting for me in 2 again?”

“According to the appointment schedule, you’ll be handling a general check-up for ‘Sticks’,” Sasha replied. “New patient, new owner.”

“Right, right, yeah.”

They usually stuck him with the first-time patients. Not that Tim and Sasha weren’t perfectly friendly and welcoming, but Martin—at least according to them—had very calming manners. He had the appearance of someone pleasant, patient, and according to Sasha, far less likely to go off on people who came in asking to declaw their cats.

“I have gone off on people for asking to declaw their cats,” Martin had said when she told him this.

“Oh, obviously. You just look like someone who wouldn’t, that’s all.”

That was what he got for being the only one with years of retail experience.

As he approached the door to the examination room, he took a few settling breaths. First-time appointments weren’t always a big deal. A majority of the time, they went smoothly; the animals weren’t familiar enough with what went on in a vet office to be nervous about it, and their owners were just as eager to be polite and pleasant as he was. But once in a while…

Well, once in a while you got someone like Peter fucking Lukas—

He shook his head. No, don’t think about Peter Lukas. Peter Lukas wasn’t worth wasting the space in his brain.

Martin settled his face into a resting pleasant expression, and opened the door.

It didn’t take a great deal of self-control not to stop in his tracks, but it did take a little. More than none. It wasn’t anything bad! Nothing against this new pet owner.

Less than nothing, if Martin were privately, sheepishly honest with himself.

The person was standing by the examination table, with a cat-sized pet carrier beside them. They were tall enough for Martin to look them in the eye without tipping his chin down, which put them a cut above most. Their hair was shoulder-length, mostly black with a bit of dark blond creeping in at the roots, framing a jawline and cheekbones so sharply defined that there had to be at least a bit of makeup involved. The snakebite piercing and the bar through the eyebrow really rounded out the whole look, especially with the long black coat, and the tattoos on the hand that rested on top of the box.

Very nice hands, Martin noted, then shrugged off the observation and funneled all his nervous energy into the safety of politeness.

“Good morning,” he said. “I’m Dr. Blackwood.”

They shook the hand he offered. “Gerry. Ke—Delano. Thanks for seeing me.”

“No trouble at all,” Martin replied, nodding toward the pet carrier. “I assume that’s my patient in there?”

“Oh, right, yeah—gimme a second.” Gerry Delano unlocked the carrier, then carefully reached in and lifted its occupant out onto onto the table.

“Oh, aren’t you lovely,” Martin murmured. “This is Sticks?”

“That’s him,” Gerry replied, as the small, fluffy, and perfectly black rabbit stretched forward to give a spot on the table a sniff, then retreated back into a loaf shape. Gerry stroked him gently. “Least I think it’s a him.”

“Well, let’s see, then.” Martin reached out, careful not to spook his new patient, and started examining her. He—yes, he—handled it all about as calmly as a nervous rabbit could. Martin didn’t have to grab a towel, at least, nor did he have a repeat of the time a nervous lop tried to jump off the examination table entirely. Sticks tolerated all the poking, prodding, and manhandling, and only got wriggly once before a quick pause and readjustment calmed him back down.

“So how long have you had him?” Martin asked, once he was done. Sticks immediately fled to the nearest safe haven, which turned out to be his owner’s armpit.

“Less than a week, since Monday,” Gerry replied, petting him as he attempted to burrow deeper into his jacket.

“Well, he’s a touch underweight,” Martin told him. “There’s some information I can give you on rabbit care, if this is your first time owning one. He’s not neutered, is he?”

“Probably not,” Gerry replied, grimacing. “I don’t know much about his history. I took him off an acquaintance who got him as a present and wasn’t doing a very good job of things.”

Martin pulled a face. “Pets make poor presents, yeah. Well, he’s old enough to be fixed, and with history like that he probably hasn’t gotten the shots he needs. After we’re done here, you can talk to Rosie out front, schedule another appointment to get those done. What do you feed him?”

Gerry, as Martin discovered, was an absolutely model rabbit owner. He’d done his homework, read up on how to keep a rabbit happy and healthy, and hadn’t scrimped on expenses. It was no wonder Sticks was happy to hide under his arm for the remainder of the appointment; he had a good home with good food and toys and what sounded like a nice setup, habitat-wise.

“What sort of vegetables are good for him?” they asked at one point. “I’m thinking of growing some. I’ve got the space, but I’ve heard too much causes problems?”

They want to grow vegetables for their pet rabbit, Martin thought, a little dreamily. “Leafy greens are a safe bet,” he replied out loud. “Romaine, parsley, cilantro, kale, that sort of thing. Work them in slowly if he’s not used to them, and he’ll be fine. I can give you a list, if you’d like?”

When the appointment was done, a future one scheduled, and the patient safely back in his carrier, Martin finally let himself ask the question that had been on his mind.

“So, is there a special meaning to ‘Sticks’?” he asked. “Is it short for something, or does he like to play with them, or…?”

“What?” Gerry looked confused for a moment, before the question seemed to click. “Oh, no, not Sticks like—he’s Styx as in the river.”

“Oh! Styx, of course. Sorry, I just—I heard it, but I didn’t see it written down—”

Gerry’s grin was crooked, like they were trying to hold it back but only partially succeeding. “It’s fine. And thanks for everything.”

“Oh, no problem, you’re doing great,” Martin assured him, smiling back. “He’s lucky to have you.”

He was pleasantly baffled when a bit of color crept into Gerry’s face. “Right, well, who can resist a bunny.”

“You’d be surprised,” Martin said as he showed him out of the room. “If I get one more new rabbit owner telling me about their lovely outdoor hutch—”

Gerry looked scandalized at the thought as he left, which was another point in his favor.

“What’s that look for?” Tim asked as Martin passed him on the way back to the office. “Oh dear. Don’t tell me Jon has competition again?”

“Oh my God, Tim, give that a rest. There was never any competition!”

“Yeah, Tim, keep it straight, will you?” Sasha called out from the temporary puppy pen. “Oliver wasn’t competition. Martin was jealous of him, remember?”

“Nothing straight about it,” Tim shot back.

“I have payroll to do,” Martin reminded them primly. “You trust me with our finances and then you treat me like this. How dare you. I’m defrauding both of you, see if I don’t.”

***

It wasn’t that Martin fell in love easily, per se. It was just that he had a very specific set of standards when it came to who he found attractive, and in his line of work he always ran into people who either met every single one of them, or disappointed him in every possible way.

When he stepped into examination room 4 and found Jon Sims trying to herd three kittens away from the edge of the examination table at once, he kept his deep sigh on the inside. Jon was batting a thousand, and he’d been coming around long enough for everyone in the clinic to know about it.

“Hello again, Jon,” Martin said, doing a wretched job of hiding his smile.

Jon looked up with a helpless expression. “It’s kitten season,” he said, and Martin poured all his sympathies into a more situation-appropriate sigh.

“It’s kitten season,” Martin agreed. “So, where did these little ones come from?”

“These came from the colony in Battersea,” he replied. “Well, sort of. The mother already has an owner, and said owner keeps letting her out every day, even though I’ve told her time and again there’s that unfixed tom I’ve never been able to catch—and that’s just the one I know of—”

Martin scowled as he examined one of the squirming kittens. Much easier to manhandle than rabbits, he thought, apropos of nothing. “Better than being born on the street, I suppose.”

“Small mercies,” Jon agreed. “Anyway, when the kittens were born she told me either I could take them or she was going to take them to the park and give them out for free, which really isn’t a choice at all. Poor things.” The ginger kitten in his hands squealed until he settled it more comfortably against his shoulder, where it calmed down and immediately tried to eat his hair.

“Gonna find a foster for them, then?” Martin asked.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Jon sighed. “I’d do it myself, but—you know how Duchess is.”

“Yes. How is Duchess, by the way?”

“Cantankerous as ever. You don’t happen to have room, do you?”

“Room, yes. Time…” The black kitten was finished with her exam, and protested when she was put back in the carrier. “Did Sasha tell you about the puppies?”

“I haven’t seen Sasha today,” Jon replied, handing over the ginger kitten when Martin reached for it. “What puppies?”

“Rosie came in early this morning,” Martin informed him, wincing when the kitten bit hard on his thumb. “There was a box waiting by the door, with four puppies inside. No note or anything. So, that’s been fun.”

“I can imagine,” Jon said distastefully. “Are you serious? Someone just left a box of puppies on the doorstep? Like foundlings in a Dickens novel?”

Martin snorted before he could think better of it, startling the kitten into biting him again. Jon was the only person he’d ever met who would use a word like foundlings. “More or less. They are cute, though. Tim says his brother might be interested in taking one, and Sasha says she’s got friends who volunteer at a dog rescue. Retrievers usually aren’t too hard to adopt out.”

“Well, good luck to you. I suppose the season’s hard on everyone.”

The three kittens were in good health, which Martin was more or less expecting. Kittens tended to have a better chance when born in a home than out in the street—even in a less than responsible home. Between the two of them, Martin and Jon got them back into the battered old carrier, where they went back to wrestling each other in the blankets. Jon reached in to tickle one between the ears and got nipped for his troubles, but it only made him smile.

“Well, anyway,” Martin went on, realizing that he’d been staring long enough for it to be rude. “I don’t think you need any follow-up care instructions?”

Jon laughed quietly before closing the carrier. “No, I think I’m alright. Thank you, Martin.”

“It’s not problem. Always a pleasure.” Martin beamed. “Good luck on finding them a foster. And—catching that tom.”

“One of these days, I swear.”

Martin showed him back out to the front. Not necessary, considering how often Jon walked that hallway. But it felt nice to walk beside him, talking shop or chatting about nothing, all to the background tune of healthy, vocal kittens.

After waving Jon off, he turned back to find Sasha watching him from behind the front desk, chin in hand, the very picture of unimpressed.

“What,” said Martin.

“He’s been coming in for months,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to make a move or not?”

“No I’m not going to—Sasha, he’s a client.”

“So? It’s not like you’re his doctor. There’s no conflict of interest or weird power dynamic when your role in his life is taking care of animals he brings in.” Sasha sat back, letting the swivel chair roll backward. “You’re already chatting like old friends every time you see him.”

“I know, I know, it’s just—it’s weird?” Martin shrugged helplessly. “We only ever meet during business hours, so it’s like—how much of our, our, our friendliness is just a working relationship?”

“Easy fix!” Sasha spread her hands wide. “The man works at a cat rescue! You can just swing by and say hello anytime!”

“He works there part-time, and I don’t know what hours! Not like I can just stand outside and case the place until I see him.”

At that moment, the door to the back swung open, and Tim poked his head out. “Could I get some help? Bailey’s giving me some trouble and I need an extra set of hands.”

“Be right there,” Martin replied. To Sasha, he said, “Look, I’m fine. It’s not a big deal, we’re just two people who keep meeting in very specific circumstances. And that’s all it needs to be.”

Sasha sighed. “I just think you’re making this out to be more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Martin muttered, and followed Tim into the back.

[slyttherins]

Quidditch camp (part 2) | Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You and Fred attend quidditch camp like every summer, but, this year, there’s been a mistake in the cabin and rooming situations. In other words, they’re short of bed and you and Fred will have to share.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1800

-

You hadn't talked to - or even looked at - Fred since the kiss.

Once you pulled away from the kiss, you had made a beeline for the bathroom, no longer caring that there was no hot water. A cold shower would do you good - and it was apparently very beneficial for the skin.

Anything to not be in the same room as him.

At supper, you sat with Angelina and Katie. You talked about the afternoon training session, which will cause your legs to ache in the morning and the latest gossip going around in the girls' cabin. Apparently, a girl had snuck into Cedric Diggory's cabin last night - according to Angelina the suspect was Cho Chang - and Madam Hooch was furious.

Most importantly, you didn't tell them what happened at the cabin.

Unconsciously, as Katie was telling you about a new broomstick trick she learned this afternoon, your eyes drifted to the redhead Beater - and the kiss you had shared. The same kiss that had left you wanting more.

Although Fred was three tables away from you, you could still feel his hands on you, strong and firm but not too rough, smell his woody soap and hear the soft sounds of appreciation leaving both your mouths as his warm tongue slipped past your lips and easily found yours. You couldn't believe you had let it escalate to that. At least no clothes had been removed - Fred was just in his shorts, but it still counted.

.

After supper, you left and went to your cabin, faking a headache. You'd usually follow the girls to their cabin and hang out until curfew, but not tonight. You needed time to think and, most importantly, get your mind off of Fred Weasley. Perhaps reading a book would help?

That didn't work for long because the twins walked in the cabin less than twenty minutes later, laughing about some prank they had pulled on one of the younger campers.

''It was brilliant, Freddie! Who knew Chambers could scream that high pitched,'' George said, talking about the prank.

''That image is forever engraved in my mind. Spiders! Spiders! They're gonna get in my pants!'' Fred mocked, imitating Chambers. ''It was hilarious.''

''How did you find so many spiders?''

''There's a whole colony behind Ron's cabin. I lured them into a cup and-'' Fred stopped himself when seeing you on the bed, his mood dropping and changing.

''Hey, Y/N,'' George greeted with a smile, going to his side of the cabin. ''You're here early.''

''I wasn't feeling good. I think it's the heat,'' you explained. If you were consistent with your lie and told everyone the same thing, no one would suspect it was a lie.

''Well, get some rest. Tomorrow's game day. We play against the Phoenixes.'' George fished for his toiletries and slung his towel on his shoulder. ''I'm gonna shower.'' He looked between you and Fred. ''Try to not kill each other while I'm in there, alright?''

Fred sat on his brother's bed and waited until the shower was running to speak. ''So...are we going to talk about it?''

''Talk about what?'' you asked, faking ignorance.

Fred gave you a stern look. ''Don't play that game, Y/L/N.''

You sighed. Forgetting it happened would've been so much simpler.

It's not like the kiss meant anything. It was just that, a kiss. There was no need to make a fuss about it.

''There's nothing to talk about.'' You closed your book and stood, slipping on your shoes and headed outside for a walk.

''Where are you going? I thought you had a headache.''

''I do, but hearing your voice makes it worse.''

.

The match against the Phoenixes was not going well.

McLaggen was sick, therefore he was sitting out this one, which left his keeper position to one of the younger - and less skilled, campers. Much to their bad luck, the young boy had let in five goals in a row. Five! He was probably nervous for his first time on the field, but five goals was a lot of points.

You were scheming the field, trying to spot the snitch, but, much to your luck, the only thing in your vision field was Fred's abs - which was distracting. To your defense, it was Fred's fault for bringing the bottom of his quidditch jersey up to his face to wipe away sweat. The little fucker also purposely flexed his abs a little every time he did it. You tried to look away, but those abs were difficult to look away from. Damn you, Fred Weasley!

Fred's exibitionist manners caused you to miss the snitch and, by the time you had snapped out of your staring, Cho had caught the snitch.

.

''Maybe McLaggen is right. Maybe we should fuck,'' Fred declared after the match, removing his protective gear.

You almost sputtered your water all over yourself. ''Excuse me?'' you asked, hoping you had heard wrong.

''You and me. We should fuck.''

A laugh left your lips. ''Did a bludger hit your head?''

''You were looking at me, weren't you? That's why you didn't see the snitch.'' A smug smile curled on his face. ''Do you have a crush on me, Y/L/N?''

''Wow, that bludger must've hit your head really hard, uh?''

''I'm not going to tell the team...if you accept to have sex with me.''

What?! You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

''Are you blackmailing me into having sex with you? You know that's sextortion, right?''

Fred shook his head. ''No. I'm saying, it's been proven that sex raises endorphins and other hormones that boost mood. Perhaps if we release those good hormones we won't be at each other's throat and picking fights during games...or staring at the other. It would be for the team's sake.''

You scoffed. ''The team's or your dick's sake?''

''I'm being serious, Y/N. Think about it.''

.

The time had been set. Friday, during the campfire, while everyone's attention would be occupied, you and Fred would slip to your shared cabin and...do it.

You didn't want to let it get to your mind, but it was all you could think about throughout the day. While the plan could work and ease the tension between you two, there was a possibility that the sex would go wrong - or be bad - and make things worse inside the team. You were also worried that it would be awkward afterward or that Fred would tell everyone.

During seeker training, you weren't flying your best. Madam Hooch had noticed that your mind was elsewhere and questioned you about it. You lied about not getting enough sleep the night prior and vowed to not stress yourself over tonight.

It was only a big deal if you made it one, right? To prove yourself, you didn't dress special - other than matching your underwear to your bra. It was just Fred, you didn't need to impress him. You didn't even put on lipgloss!

You started with kisses, slowly getting comfortable with each other, but quickly wanting more. His ginger hair smelled of smoke from the campfire and his lips tasted something sweet - roasted marshmallows. You hummed, slipping your hands under his shirt, feeling the curves of his abs and back. Merlin, you loved those.

''Did you lock the door?'' you asked, not wanting to be walked in on by any of your cabin buddies.

Fred hesitated and you sighed, going to lock it yourself.

When you returned to Fred, he had discarded his shirt, leaving him shirtless and you had to hold yourself back from biting your lip. Damn, that body.

Seeing as it was unfair that he was the only one who had taken off clothes, Fred helped you take off your top. You should've felt exposed, but it wasn't the first time he saw you in a bra and it wasn't much different than bikini tops, right? But, this bra was a little sexier than the sports bra you usually wore and, by the look Fred was giving you and your body, he didn't hate it.

''Ohh, I didn't know you owned other things than sports bras, Y/L/N,'' he teased, gliding the pad of his finger on the edge of the black lace.

You swatted him and he laughed.

His lips found their way back to yours, hands exploring each other's bodies. You felt the backs of your legs hit his bed and fell back onto it due to a not-so-gentle shove from Fred. You narrowed your eyes, but Fred joined you, crawling on top of you.

Small moans left your lips as he kissed the side of your neck and your hands went to his hair, keeping him there. He was probably going to give you a bruise and it could be a bitch to cover up, but you'll worry about that later.

No. No more kisses. You were running tight on time.

You snapped out of your bubble and pulled Fred off of your neck. If you wanted to be finished before anyone realized you two had vanished from the campfire, you needed to get straight to business and not fool around too much.

Sparing you both some time, you arched your back off of the mattress and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. You took a mental note to pick it up later to not give Oliver another reason to complain about sharing his cabin with a girl.

As you laid there, topless under Fred, the boy couldn't help but stare at your breasts, hunger in his eyes. He bit his lip and covered them both with his large hands, thumb brushing against one of your nipples, watching it harden.

''Weasley! Less ogling, more fucking. We don't have all night.''

.

''If you talk to anyone about this-'' you warned, pulling on your denim shorts and buttoning the button.

Fred emerged from the bathroom, having discarded the proof of your sexual intercouse at the bottom of the trash to cover your tracks. You couldn't let any of the boys see the used condom.

He scoffed. ''Don't flatter yourself, this was nice, but I'd rather no one knows.''

Was he embarrassed of having slept with you? It couldn't be. It was his idea - technically it was McLaggen's - to have sex.

''Because, you know, we'd get in trouble if Madam Hooch found out,'' he continued explaining, slipping on his shirt and running his hand through his hair to fix them.

Yeah, sure. That was the reason.

Everyone knew having sex on campsite was strictly forbidden and had great consequences - aka, sitting out matches - if Madam Hooch found out, but that didn't stop campers from sneaking around and doing it.

''I mean, it was fun, but you're not worth sitting out matches for.''