#is it so impossible to take a hint. several hints even. or again maybe even common sense that like wow hey

[faerociousbeast]

and i literally do not get mad nearly as often as i probably should

[whoistartaglia]

love letters

how genshin men write you love letters

a/n: i’m alive!

neuvillette’s love letter is meticulously written and the closest thing to perfection found in this corporal realm. his calligraphy is neat as are his words; he spends little time with the flowery words and sweet nothings, and gets immediately to the point: confessing his love to you. he’s hinted at it, and you’ve reciprocated back, and neuvillette wanted to cement his confession with ink and paper. the only crinkle of imperfection that mares the otherwise unworldly beautiful letter is a touch of shakiness to the last sentence, the only question in the entire letter. asking you if you might feel the same.

childe’s love letter had to be written several times, and even the final version has some crossed out words, and arrows leading across the page, pointing to where he picked back up. the words themselves are sweet if not a little chaotically inclined (as is he; his nature showing right through the words on the parchment). it’s not so much as a confession than simply proclaiming his love for you, given to when you’re already in a relationship. (if you should ask why there are so many mistakes, he’ll tell you the truth: putting his love for you in mere words is a difficult feat.)

scaramouche’s love letter is a mess of words and a rage of emotions. it was never meant to be send to you, and he only showed you late in your relationship, when he felt comfortable enough to let you in. he started it as a way to express his emotions and their twisting and churning, whenever it came to you. scaramouche couldn’t understand them at first, and to an extent, he still is unable to fully quantify the emotions he feels towards you. but the words on the page, the half sentences and fragmented clauses, paint enough of a picture, and the love he shows you already is enough to fill in the gaps.

diluc’s love letter is impossible for him to write. it’s awful, it’s terrible, and every word is wrong—not that there are many words to begin with. diluc never thought himself to be an overthinker, but writing this love letter is proving that original notion wrong. every sentence he crafts in his mind sounds wrong when said aloud and he has worries they will look even worse on paper. so he leaves the few sentences he has alone, few soldiers on the battlefield, and decides to give you the letter anyways, hoping that you’ll still reciprocate what’s on the page, even if it isn’t much, even if he wants to tell you much more, but for some reason, cannot.

zhongli’s love letter is painfully gorgeous, even if the words sting and feel like a thorn to the heart. how he can turn a breakup letter into something so beautiful sounding is beyond you; you wish he would just get the point, that it’s not working out, that it’s over, without all the purple prose. reading it over and over again, you get the feeling that he was delaying telling you, even through writing. that he didn’t want to tell you it’s over using plain, cold words, but wanted to tell you with words that exude the last rays of sunshine and a breeze before dark. (it hurts all the same. more, even.)

alhaitham’s love letter was as unexpected for you recieve as it was for him to write, because you thought being with him was an impossibility, a maybe of the past that never came true. but then he handed it to you before he left, giving to you words he could never quite that time ago and still can’t quite bring himself to say now. but the letter, carefully crafted and laced with vulnerability and a tenderness only ever glimpsed from him once or twice, express what he cannot. what you do now with this newfound information is up to you: take a chance on something you thought died, or leave it alone, maybe without hope of a reprisal this time.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

A Million Dreams

Pairing(s): Eddie Brock x Brock!Reader, slight mention!Eddie Brock x Anne

Warnings: definitely hints of sibling incest, hurt/comfort, wrote this when i realized becoming a veterinarian wasn't for me :(, late night conversations

Words: 1844

Summary: You couldn't tell Eddie and Anne the truth. You were a loser.

a/n: found this while going through my ao3 since I heard it might be shut down in 2025? 😥

“(y/n). . .”

Shame, guilt, and a plethora of other emotions were pinned into you. Your backpack hung heavy on your back and your eyes burned at the light filtering from inside of Eddie’s apartment. You had debated on running to your brother for help. Neither of you had seen each other for years. Both focusing on your careers. There was nowhere left for you to go. Initially you had gone to the address Anne had given you a couple of years ago only to find out that he no longer lived there and that they were no longer together. How were you supposed to know any of this? You didn’t blame Eddie for lack of communication. You blamed yourself mostly, you hadn’t bothered to contact him. Life had made you busy. Vet school had made it nearly impossible for you to have a personal life.

Fingers curling around the strap of your bag your teeth work on your bottom lip anxiously. “Hey Ed.”

His dark gray eyes continue to gawk at you as he leaves his mouth wide open. Stuttering incoherently as he continues to stand in the doorway. You’d have to start the conversation.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it? Maybe five years? Um. . . Sorry to show up all of a sudden. . .”

Finally collecting himself, Eddie steps aside. “C-Come in.” He quickly goes about trying to tidy his small apartment as best as he can while he rambles to himself.

You sat down on the closest thing that looked comfy. Which just happened to be a dingy couch that had several stains on it.

It felt like heaven the moment your back hit the cushions. True your trip hadn’t been that long. The distance from UC Davis to San Francisco wasn’t that long of a stretch but it was still utterly straining on you.

Exhaustion swallowed you whole.

She was out like a light the moment she sat down on his couch.

Eddie was confused at what was going on. His sister suddenly showing up after years without talking and without an explanation. Eddie dare not wake her up though. (y/n) looked so drained the moment he had opened his door.

“(y/n) looks delicious.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this. No eating good people. Especially not my sister.” Eddie scowls at his symbiote companion. Venom already knew all about (y/n) as he knew everything about Eddie since he attached himself to him.

“But even you want to take a bite. I’ve seen your thoughts.” Venom points out yet again of the fact that he resided inside of Eddie and shared his thoughts and memories.

Internally swatting at his parasite, Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s my little sister.”

Venom seems to laugh at that. “You seem to like her the way you like Anne. I’m taking from your continued denial that it isn’t normal. You can’t hide things from me Eddie. I feel everything you do. I can hear your thoughts and see your dreams. I can look into your past.”

Silent as he glances over at his dozing sister, he simply tells Venom “We just used to be close when we were little. Or rather when she was little.” What was she doing there? The last time he had heard from her was right before he had been forced to leave New York. She had been living in California for some time already back then and had mostly been keeping in touch with Anne considering she lived in San Francisco. (y/n) had been going to school to become a veterinarian. It had been her dream since she was little. She’d bring home stray animals and nurse them back to health until their parents would catch on and force her to give them up.

“Sweet inside and out.” Venom cackles.

Ignoring him, Eddie grabs a blanket from his bed and drapes it over (y/n). He would get answers in the morning.

The investigator in him though wanted them right away though. He’s immediately dialing Anne’s number. There was no other way that (y/n) would know where he lived.

“I’m guessing (y/n) made her way safely to your place?” Immediately came Anne’s voice.

“Yeah. She’s passed out on my couch. Didn’t really get a chance to explain why she’s here. I was hoping you could fill me in until she wakes up.”

He could practically hear Anne roll her eyes. “Typical Eddie. You don’t even have patience when it comes to your own sister. Just wait until she wakes up. It’s best you hear it from her.”

Anxiety twisted his gut and made Venom spike with anticipation and apprehension. “What happened? Is it bad?”

“. . . Well it’s not exactly good. . .” sighed Anne. “I really think you should wait for her to tell you, Eddie. It’s not my place to say.”

“Tell us!” Venom separates himself from Eddie only to form a head that he could talk through. The foreign sound of Venom’s voice has (y/n) stirring on the couch. They both hold their breath and watch her, waiting to see if she would wake up.

“Like I said, wait until she wakes up. I really don’t want to break (y/n)’s trust.” With that, Anne hangs up leaving Eddie to think of the worst scenarios. What happened to his sister to make her seek him out? Last he heard she was doing fine in vet school. Did someone hurt her? She was living by herself.

All sorts of questions swarmed his mind like a horde of pissed off hornets. Eddie would have to find some way to calm himself down enough so that he could sleep.

You don’t know how long you had been out but when your eyes blinked open you see all the lights turned off and your brother out of sight. There was a blanket on top of you that kept you pressed against the couch, trying to keep you in sleep’s sweet embrace. You couldn’t continue to sleep though. Not with so many secrets that were caked onto your heart.

Lazily you set your feet down on the floor and force yourself to stand. Squinting your eyes you attempt to focus them in the dark and try to find your brother’s bedroom. Nostalgia hits you. How many times had you done the very same thing when you were little? You would crawl into Eddie’s bed, snuggling against him and making him wake up so that you could talk his ear off until you fell back asleep. He never got mad at you when you did this. Any other sibling would, but not Eddie. He was always so much more patient with you than any of your friends’ older siblings. Their older brother or sister wanted nothing more than for them to stay out of their way. Eddie had played a very important role during your childhood. Always caring for you even more so than yoru own parents did. Even helping you hide the stray animals you would find.

The moment your foot passes through the doorway Eddie was already sitting up groggily in his bed. As if he had already felt your presence. He rubs at his eyes and mumbles out your name.

Silently you move to the other side of his bed and peel his blanket away so you could slip in. He scoots over obligingly.

“I’m sorry I showed up all of a sudden.”

“S’okay. But what are you doing here? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you. Don’t get me wrong, I am. It’s just. . . You know, been a while. . .”

“Do you remember all the things we’d talk about late at night when we were little? All the things we dreamed of for the future.” You stare up at his ceiling. In your childhood room the two of you had gotten the glow in the dark stars and stuck them on your own ceiling. “Even back then you wanted to be an investigator. A weird career for a kid to want.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah. And you always wanted to help animals and be a vet back then.”

“A million dreams that kept us awake. Dreams that we were so hopeful in.” You felt your eyes burn as the onslaught of tears creeped up on you.

Eddie shifts next to you. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You cover your face with your hands and try not to sob out loud. “I failed vet school Ed.”

“What? But Anne told me you were doing so well.”

A soft cry escapes your lips much to your horror. You turn your back to him so that you could somewhat cry without peering eyes. “How could I tell her the truth?! The both of you have successful jobs! I’m just. . . I’m just a fucking loser Eddie! I tried so hard! It doesn’t matter how much you want something. Even when you work so hard for it. . .”

“Hey, don’t talk like that about my sister!” Eddie growls and rolls you over to your other side. “You are not a loser. I’m the only loser in this family, okay? Is that why you haven’t called me? Were you ashamed?”

Nodding you sniffle a little. “I tried so hard Ed.”

One of his massive arms wraps around you and pulls you closer to his barrel chest. “I know (y/n). I know.”

“I wanted to be a vet so bad. But the lessons weren’t sinking in. I didn’t understand anything no matter how hard I studied. A-and. . .” You take a deep breath, nails digging into your brother’s back as you desperately cling to him. “The idea of having to put animals down. . .” Another cry clawed it’s way up your throat. “I’m so weak. I couldn’t do it. I can’t do it. It would’ve never worked out. I have no idea what I’m gonna do with my life. . . I’m already (age). I’ve wasted so many years of my life.”

His lips press against the crown of your head. “Listen to me (y/n). Even if you shoot for the moon and miss you’ll still land on the stars.”

You shake your head. “What stars? I missed the moon entirely and landed into a void.”

“You’ll feel like that now. But once you take a few deep breaths you’ll find the stars. We’ll find the stars. I’ll help you get back on your feet. You’re a brilliant girl (y/n). Don’t let this burn you out. You’re still so young.” Eddie’s calm voice soothes you immensely that the pang in your chest numbed considerably which allowed the tears to stop flowing.

Gazing up at him with still watery eyes you ask “What am I gonna do now Eddie?”

“We’ll figure that out in the morning. For now let’s sleep. You deserve that much.”

You wouldn’t argue with that. At least now you were able to sleep with a somewhat clear mind. Just as long as Eddie stayed beside you. You would dream of a million more dreams.

[heartofroses112]

Our Own Choices First Draft — Fox and Bly confronting Cody

Bly and Fox shared one last, long look before Bly activated the panel. The doors slid open on near silent tracks. There, across the room, standing by the thick transparisteel window and gazing out into the ever-changing space outside of their ship, stood the Commander. Cody. His helmet was off, nowhere to be seen in the large room.

The way he held himself, arms clasped behind his back and stance strong, was so obviously Cody. Bly didn’t know how he had never seen it before. Well, he had seen it. He’d just thought it impossible. Fox had found reports, had heard it directly from the slimeball Emperor himself of Cody’s death. But here he was, standing before them, fighting alongside them and their brothers for fourteen long years without so much as a hint to his identity.

Bly and Fox made their way across the room, footsteps muffled but just loud enough as to give their movement away. Bly rubbed his arms, wishing for the warmth of his armor. Space was cold. But the plastoid was constricting. It wouldn’t allow him to drag Cody into the bone-crushing hug he had been yearning for since the dramatic asshole had whipped off his helmet and insulted Palpatine in so many colorful ways that he must have spent years coming up with them.

Bly stepped up to Cody’s left side, staring out into space along with him. Fox stopped on Cody’s right, and for several long moments, the three of them stood in silence.

Finally, Bly could not take anymore. “Why?” he said.

“There’re a dozen answers to that question. All depends on what you’re asking.”

Bly choked on a laugh. He’d forgotten how snarky Cody chose to be when it was just their batch. And Rex, but, well, he was practically a part of their batch at this point. He had been, at least. “You know exactly what I’m asking.”

“Then you know my answer.”

“Cody.” Fox cut in, sharp and straight to the point. Out of the corner of his eye, Bly watched the full-body shudder that wracked through Cody. Bly ignored the tight pang in his chest at the hidden motion. “We thought you were dead.”

“And so did I.”

Bly frowned. “We’ve been here for the past two years at least. That’s plenty of time when you could’ve told us. Hell, what about your own men from the 212th? They’ve been here since the beginning, and they’ve been mourning their commander this whole time.”

“Until I arrived on that planet and saw your faces, I was convinced you were both dead.” Cody still hadn’t looked at them. “After the Order went out… I looked for you. But Rex was killed when they turned on Tano. Wolffe was confirmed MIA almost immediately. Fox, you, you were always at the Chancellor’s side, I couldn’t risk that you would ever join me.”

His voice was flat and without any inflection. “So that left you, Bly. But a week later, all I found were reports that you ate your blaster.”

Fox sucked in a breath.

“And I thought about… I thought that maybe… I wondered if you made the only right choice left.” His whispered words should have died at their ears. Instead, they ricocheted around the cold, steel room. “Bly, you were the one I wanted to see most. Because you…” Cody sighed, eyes falling shut even as his head tilted backward. “You were the only one who could understand.”

“Understand what?” Bly thought he knew. There was really only one thing Cody could have meant by that. But how could Bly have never known before now?

Cody’s eyes opened, gaze locked on the rivets along the outer wall. “You loved your general. And I lov—” He cut himself off, tearing his eyes away to instead stare at the ground. “I love—” He tried again.

“Oh, Cody.” Bly’s heart was in his throat, breaking into pieces for the pain that was still so clearly etched across his brother’s face. There was a reason Cody wore his helmet more than the rest of them; he’d never been able to hide his true feelings when he was just so damn expressive. It’s how Wolffe had known if he had pushed Cody too far when they were still just cadets. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Rex told me to wait,” he said simply. “He thought it would be funny if you all saw me and… If you guessed. It wasn’t hard, apparently.” He loosed a breath from between his teeth. “Course, then the Order went out.”

“Cody, I’m so sorry.” Again, Cody shuddered at the sound of his name. Bly longed to drag his brother into his arms. But Cody wasn’t ready for that yet, not after so many years with no more contact than the mission required.

“It can’t be changed.”

“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” Fox murmured, stepping slightly closer to Cody. “And you’ve kept this inside for so long.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Bly asked, suddenly so full of rage at the self-imposed exile his brother placed himself in. “We’ve been here for years now, Cody. And it’s not just us. What about everyone from the 212th? They’ve been mourning their commander, their brother for so long and you’ve just been here the whole kriffing time?”

“I will not expect you to understand my actions.”

“Damnit, Codes, we want to talk to you, not the karking Commander! We’ve been around him enough.” Fox glowered at the side of Cody’s head. But Cody still didn’t look at either of them.

“He’s all that’s left.” Cody’s voice was devoid of emotion. He returned to looking out the viewport, the light of distant stars reflecting on his face. “Cody died the day he shot down his General and felt no remorse.”

“It was the chips,” Fox tried.

“I was still the one to follow the Order. And then my brothers were dying around me, and my batchmates were gone, and there was no one left to understand how I felt, and there was so much riding on my fucking shoulders. So, you do not get to come in here and lecture me. There is nothing else I have wanted more than to look at my brothers without a karking helmet between us, to actually be with them and not just be the karking Commander!”

Cody’s chest heaved, his fists clenched tight against his thighs. Fox and Bly exchanged a look, the same expression of worry and hurt flashing between them. Cody turned and paced several steps away from them. “You have no idea,” he started, voice low and tightly controlled, “how hard it has been this past decade, to see you, my closest brothers, and not be able to lessen your grief, to not hold you close and feel safe.”

“No one is making you do this.” Bly felt as if he were pleading, begging a brother to step back, step off the ledge.

Cody sighed, eyes still squeezed shut. “I know. But… I don’t deserve… I can’t… How can I be happy, Bly, when I killed him? I love, I loved, I loved him, and he loved me too. How can I ever forgive myself when the last thought he probably ever had was of how the men he trusted with his life were now the ones taking it?”

Bly stared at his brother. He had so much pent-up… self-hatred. Disgust with himself. Loathing of his actions that had not been his own actions at all. There was a distinct prickling at the back of Bly’s eyes as he watched Cody desperately try to hold the pieces of himself together.

“Cody.” Fox took a step toward Cody.

Cody’s shoulders shook. “Stop,” he bit out.

“Cody,” Fox said again.

Cody turned his head away, eyes still shut. His scar, the scar that was oh so distinctive, the scar that marked him as Cody, the scar Bly had searched for in vain on every brother he met, caught the faint light from above. “Stop it.”

“Let yourself be you again, Cody,” Bly said, closing the distance between them. The pair of them were once more in reach of their lost brother. “Doing this… hiding yourself away in repentance, it’s only letting Palpatine win.”

Cody flinched, but still, he didn’t look at them.

Fox pushed on. “I didn’t know your General well. None of us did, there… there wasn’t time. But I know he fought for our individuality, our sense of self that so much of the Republic tried to wash away. You’ve always been Cody, our Cody. But you never seemed so much like yourself, so confident in who you were and what you fought for, than after you joined Kenobi.”

“He’s dead now,” Cody whispered with a tremble in his voice.

“So, carry on his legacy.” Bly searched his brother’s face, familiar lines that meant upset and anger and stress, tightness in his jaw that meant stubbornness and fear. “Cody, won’t you look at us?”

“The helmet’s gone, Cody,” Fox murmured. “Let us see you. Look at us, please.”

Perhaps it was the ‘please.’ Fox never said it before, not unless the world was ending, or a brother was dying. Slowly, so slowly, Cody turned his head, entire body still trembling. His eyes slid open, and then it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough, gaze flickering between Bly and Fox and never staying still for more than a moment.

“Won’t it be so much more powerful,” Fox said, “when Palpatine is brought down by Cody and Fox and Bly, not just the Commander and his nameless clones?”

“Kenobi and… and Aayla.” Bly stopped, suddenly unable to speak beyond the burning in his throat. He dragged in a breath and continued. “They loved us, Cody. They loved us for who we are. Don’t erase that. Live as Cody, and do it for him. Do it for us, for all the brothers you have rescued. Please, we… we need you. We need Cody far more than we have ever needed the Commander.”

Cody heaved a broken sob, teeth tight against the sound in an attempt to keep it inside. He looked at the wall again, hands clenched around the edges of his armor. Bly fell silent, just watching his brother. If Cody was to come back to them… it would have to be on his own terms. Cajoling and pushing had never worked to make Cody see sense. He always was too stubborn for his own good.

“The Commander is all I know anymore.”

Bly’s heart threatened to break in two. His vision grew blurry. He blinked, hard.

Fox looked similarly affected. But he swallowed. Then he raised his chin and stared Cody down. “If that’s true, if… if you don’t know how to be Cody anymore, then why did you reveal yourself to Palpatine? Why now, after so many years of hiding your face?”

Cody looked at Fox, brow furrowed. “He was threatening you,” Cody said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Fox froze in place. “He scares the shit out of you, Fox, and nothing does that. No one is allowed to do that.” Cody shrugged, eyes still dancing over Fox’s face. “I thought I’d give him a new target to hate.”

Fox still wasn’t moving. Cody sighed and looked away, fingers still digging into his armor. “I… I should go. There’s a lot to do, now that I’ve karked everything up and—”

“Cody,” Fox breathed. “Oh, Cody, Cody, Cody.” He reached out, hands shaking as he brushed the side of Cody’s plastoid-covered arms. Cody stiffened but did not move as Fox dragged him in, crushing him against his chest. Fox was still repeating Cody’s name, burying his face against Cody’s hair, hands tight around his back.

Cody gasped, eyes wide and body trembling like a leaf in a storm. He crumbled into Fox’s hold, pressing his face against Fox’s neck as they clung to each other. “Cody, Cody, my Cody,” Fox continued to whisper like a prayer.

Bly surged forward, sweeping both his brothers into his arms. Bly and Fox squeezed Cody between them, hard plastoid hampering them only slightly. Bly’s forehead rest against the back of Cody’s neck, and his skin felt hot and feverish, a sign of the long, long years without a touch of comfort and love.

Bly couldn’t hold back the tears that trickled down his cheeks, melting down Cody’s neck and into the blacks under his armor. Cody continued to tremble, hands clutching desperately at Fox even as he pressed back into Bly.

“We’re here, Cody. We’re here, we’re here,” Bly murmured. “We have you. Let go, Cody, we have you.”

And so, Cody let go, the grief and anger and hatred that had been building up for over a decade with no outlet finally pouring from him in devastating waves. Cody did not cry, of that Bly was sure. But he trembled and shook and shattered beneath their hands, dry sobs and broken apologies, apologies that Bly meant to return but just could not find the words.

Bly had failed Cody for years, had failed him the day Bly had faked his death and ran from the Empire. But he would not fail him any longer. Cody would never feel alone again, would never feel the same lack of choice and want. Bly would make sure of it. Fox would as well, and the remainder of the 212th, and the 501st, and every brother in between.

For the first time in many, many years, Bly thought of the Jedi, of his Jedi, with only solid resolve. I promise, Aayla. And General Kenobi, if you can hear me. I won’t let him down. I’ll keep him safe. And we’ll avenge you. Palpatine will suffer for all he’s done, to you and to Cody and to everyone else. But for now, Bly kept his batchmates close and held them as if nothing else in the galaxy mattered. Nothing else ever would.

pt 1 | pt 2

[wordsofwilderness]

Just ask, baby

Day 2: Begging - Dacryphilia - Jegulus Kinktober - @jeguluskinktoberr - 1.784 words - EXPLICIT

James was lounging around on the sofa flipping through the channels on the TV when Regulus entered their living room. James smiled at him, instantly distracted from whatever was on the TV. To be fair, he was wearing one of James’ old sports hoodies—a deep maroon with James’ name sprawled over the back, oversized on him so the hem fell on his upper thigh against the pale skin of his bare legs. “You look comfy,” James said in greeting, smiling softly at his boyfriend.

Regulus hummed in response as he shuffled closer to the sofa.

“Come here,” James said, making a grabbing motion with his hands. Regulus snuggled into James’ embrace with a sigh. With a kiss on Regulus’ forehead, James ran a hand up Regulus’ leg appreciatively before settling on Regulus’ upper thigh. Opened his mouth with a suggestion of what to watch on the tip of his tongue that was sure to start a round of endless bickering between them. But as fingers skimmed what was under the hoodie—or rather what wasn’t there—and his words died.

“What?” Regulus prompted, pulling James’ attention back from the gutter it had gone into. He would know what James just had discovered, and would be waiting for James to react to it. James recognised what kind of stunt this was, it was far from the first time Regulus had pulled something like it. He had a tendency to get stuck in his own head, too self-conscious and focused on some impossible worst-case scenario to be able to outright ask for what he wanted.

But James also knew that all Regulus needed something was a little push. So determined to not falter as easily as he’d done several times in the past, James responded, “Nothing.”

Regulus sat up, a leg on either side of James’ torso. He frowned down at James before glancing away nervously.

“Regulus, baby, all you have to do is ask,” James murmured, giving up pretence as he ran his hands up and down Regulus’ thighs soothingly, “You know that.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Regulus pouted.

With a sigh, James smiled, “What do want me to do? Drive you crazy enough that you beg for whatever it is you have in mind?” James had meant it to be simple teasing, but when a blush rose to Regulus’ cheeks, he was quick to change his mind.

“You could try,” Regulus said, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

“What? You don’t think I could do it?” James said with an eyebrow raised.

Regulus smirked, looking so radiant as ever, perched atop his chest.

“Please get down here so I can kiss you,” James said with a tug on Regulus’ thigh.

Regulus shuffled back down so he was lying on top of James again. Looping his arms around Regulus’ waist, James kissed him. Soft, sweet and slow, barely a hint of what he knew Regulus wanted.

“James,” Regulus predictably snapped.

“Want more?” James grinned. Maybe he shouldn’t like getting on Regulus’ nerves as much as he did.

“You know I do,” Regulus huffed.

James let out a chuckle before burring a hand in Regulus’ hair to tug him in for more, properly this time. It was the messy kind of kiss that would have evaporated any doubt as to where they were heading if they weren’t already long gone. Regulus moulded himself up against James’ body, a whine escaping from him as he pushed up against the growing budge in James’ trousers.

“You’re not touching me,” Regulus noted as they separated for air. James would usually be pulling at Regulus’ clothing by now if he wasn’t holding back.

“Where do you want me to?” James asked, despite the fact that it had been a statement of fact and not desire. But small victories, he’d get Regulus there.

“Under,” Regulus said, clearly still struggling with even such a simple request.

James slipped both his hands under the hoodie and up Regulus’ back, taking ample time to squeeze. Regulus was probably hoping he’d go further than that, but James wasn’t about to touch Regulus anywhere between his legs without direct permission, especially when Regulus was like this. Leaving a line of kisses along Regulus’ throat, James whispered, “All you have to do is ask, love. I want you so bad.” When Regulus still didn’t say annoying beyond a faint moan, he added, “The answer is yes, just ask.”

“Could you— I want…” Regulus tried.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” James encouraged, pushing the collar of the hoodie to the side to suck on the spot where Regulus neck met his shoulder.

A shudder went through Regulus before he finally said, “Touch me, make me feel good.”

It was still a demand instead of a request, but again, small steps. James brought a hand back between them, slipping it under the hoodie to circle Regulus’ erection. With a few slow strokes, fingers were buried in James’ hair as Regulus let out small, soft moans by his ear.

“Faster,” Regulus urged on.

“Ask.”

And with a deep breath, Regulus did ask, “Could you go faster?”

James grinned at the small victory, kissing Regulus’ temple as he said, “Of course. Anything for you.” James sped up, making sure to flick his wrist at the tip, just like he knew Regulus liked it. The effect was immediate. Regulus moans grew loud in a way James knew meant he’d given up on holding them back.

“Just want you to…” Regulus started before trailing off.

“Anything, love.”

Face hiding in the crook of James’ neck, he admitted, “I want you in me.”

“Yeah?” James grinned, “Of course, baby. Did you bring lube?”

Regulus fished a small bottle out of the hoodie pocket and tossed it at James.

Popping the cap open, James couldn’t help but chuckle at Regulus’ antics. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Regulus grumbled.

James warmed the lube up between his fingers before lowering his hand under the hem again. Circling Regulus’ rim, he pushed a single finger inside. A few trusts in and out massaging at the tight walls, James added a second finger. He wasted no time curling them just right, delighting in the sharp intake of air Regulus did and how his hand twitched in James’ hair.

“I need more,” Regulus croaked out only shortly after.

“What kind of more?”

“I want you.”

And oh, it was hard to not just give in to Regulus—folding up on the spot like origami, just for him. But this was about more than sex, so James pulled together his last few threads of willpower and said, “Baby, there is this pretty little word I’m looking for.” with a kiss pressed to Regulus’ curls, James murmured, “Ask me.”

“Fuck me, please,” Regulus finally let out, “I want you to fuck me, so please just…”

“Of course. Of course, I will,” James rushed to say before Regulus could get a chance to overthink anything. “Turn around and bend over the armrest for me, will you?”

Regulus got down from James, reaching to take off the hoodie.

“Don’t,” James said, having stopped his own rush of shredding his clothing to reach out and pause Regulus’ hand. “That hoodie is basically lingerie when you’re wearing it.”

Regulus let the hoodie fall back into place with a smug grin before positioning himself over the armrest. Only a moment later, James was behind him, marvelling at the lettering of his own him sprawled out over Regulus’ back.

“Reg, baby, do you have any idea how hard it was to hold back when you look like this?” James murmured, one hand on Regulus’ hip under the hoodie and the other spreading lube over his length. “All I wanted was this as soon as I discovered you weren’t wearing anything underneath that hoodie,” James rambled as he lined himself up, “It was so hot. You’re so hot.”

“Don’t hold back,” Regulus begged, “Please don’t hold back.”

“I won’t,” James promised as he sunk into Regulus’ heat before groaning, “You feel so good, so tight.”

Regulus whimpered beneath him, pushing himself back against James’ dick until he was bottomed out. “Just fuck me. Please fuck me,” Regulus pleaded, pure desperation in his voice.

“You sound so good, baby,” James moaned, dragging his cock back out before thrusting into Regulus again.

Regulus moaned as James began to fuck him, the sweetest sound James knew. “Make me cry, please. I need it,” Regulus begged with a shudder.

This was one James hadn’t expected. It had happened once or twice before, but never on purpose like how Regulus clearly wanted now. They’d talked about it, of course, how it was something that happened when Regulus was too far gone in pleasure to hold back any more. “Yeah, okay. I will. Anything for you,” James immediately agreed, staring wide-eyed down at the mess he’d already made Regulus into.

James gave it his all, rough and hard. Loud moans rang out from Regulus in a glorious melody. James held him tight and secure with both his hands on Regulus’ waist. Regulus begged for nothing and everything beneath him. James tried his hardest to decipher each and every word, but at this point, he was pretty sure it was more a case of Regulus not being able to stop now that the floodgates had fallen open—uninhibited by all the walls he usually put up around himself.

“I need you. I need you. I need you,” Regulus cried, his voice slurred with emotion, making the admission sound like something that went beyond just sex.

It yanked at James’ heart—pulling and tugging to get free of James’ chest and go where it belonged. “Regulus, I’m right here. I’m all yours, only yours,” James murmured.

Reaching around with a hand, he closed it around Regulus’ dick. With only a few pumps of it, Regulus was gone, crashing over the edge and his body shaking with an orgasm. James followed soon after, burying his cock deep into Regulus’ arse as he came.

He took a moment to catch his breath before gathering Regulus up in his arms. Sitting down on the sofa again, he brushed a tear from Regulus’ stained cheeks as he asked, “How was it?”

“Perfect,” Regulus hummed, leaning into James’ embrace.

“Mind if wait a bit to clean up? I want to hold you,” James said, knocking their foreheads together as he admitted, “I need you too.”

Regulus looked like he might start crying again but for wholly different reasons this time around. Kissing each of his cheeks, James tugged Regulus up against him—holding him close enough that he swore their hearts began to beat as one.

[kanmom51]

JK Radio Stationhead 1 October 2023

And a little more as well...

cr./and huge thanks to the translation accounts I used in this post.

I think this was the most interesting Stationhead we've had so far with JK. JK was chatty, informative (well, to an extent), I would maybe even say combative? Maybe that's a little too strong a term to use, but I do think he came to show that he is unbothered by the shitstorm going on and clap back just a little bit. And he knows about that shitstorm, make no mistake.

I see Jikookers falling for this hateful campaign against JK. Not only are they perpetuating it, but they are also adding to it, embellishing it, and spreading it.

By now JK has had several girlfriends named, he's a baby daddy (she was pregnant in Feb, so...), he's going on double dates with his mate Tae, trucking (censorship issues had me change that - you know exactly what it's meant to be) her with the windows and curtains open for all to see (after telling us he's aware he's being followed around including home). All this he managed to get done before he sat down and did hours on end of JM dedicated lives, calling him his fan, flirting with him online while in bed for all of us to see, and going on a 4 day private trip with him.

A very wise blogger once said: (@ourwinterspring, hope you don't mind me quoting your wise words):

Rumors are created by haters accepted by fools and spread by idiots

That. Just that!!!

People that called themselves Jikook supporters (I'm not talking about shippers, they are in this for their own self gratification, while supporters are supposed to be looking out for JM and JK and supporting them both individually and their relationship, which btw is still considered tabooed in their own country), they are rushing to conclusions, and aiding in the spread of these lies.

K-army laughed them off.

Chinese army are fighting them off.

And I army are just spreading them like wildfire.

Why this long winded introduction?

Because Jikook are in an impossible position really. They are a closeted queer couple in a country and industry that would not accept their relationship if it would become publicly known. As long as the door is open for deniability they are ok. Taking that step through that door and out of the closet, that is one hell of a step with many consequences, to them and to those who surround them.

JK is about to release his 1st solo album, and he's in the midst of trying to infiltrate the American and Western music market. To do so they are selling a very certain image, and being queer is not part of it.

They are also both before enlistment to the military.

Them going: "hey bitches, the stories are untrue, we're in a long term loving relationship", is not a realistic expectation. And no matter what JK would say otherwise, the rumours they are just gonna keep coming, cause this train, this coordinated smear attack, it's not finished. And if and when that would be done, we'd be back to Yubi and Rose and Lisa (oh, oops, she's with Freddie), and Miju. Ehm, she's married. But wait, since when has that stopped anyone, eh? It didn't stop the Nicole stories, which, btw, are still rampant, including among some Jikookers (?) - what the actual truck is wrong with people???

So, no Jikook announcement.

A company one? Kind of feel that one won't come either. Again, JK 3D promotions and upcoming album in mind. Not to mention, and this my friends is me being super cynical right now, other than the harassment claims, the company doesn't have a problem with these rumours, given it solidifies his bad boy, truckboy, heterosexual image they are selling right now. There, I said it.

But Jikook, JM and JK, they aren't happy with this. They can't be happy with this. As much as this image is a price to pay, on the way JK is sending us constant hints that it ain't all that you see. That he's a complex being. That he might appear one way in 3D, but another in Seven and another in his CK and Vogue photoshoots (the latter with him being the artistic designer and bringing along some outfits and/or accessories that he wanted himself), not to mention someone else all together in his long lives with us. He tells us this is him. Who we see. But those that only see that image in 3D are just not looking at the full picture he's painting.

This is him:

But also this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

And this:

They are all pieces of the puzzle that is one Mr. Jeon Jungkook. And I'm sure there are pieces we have yet to see.

It's funny that JK is singing 3D (basically having phone sex and wishing for more) but at the same time he's telling us "this is me in 3D". Not one dimensional. A complex grown up human being.

Btw, I kind of feel like I need to link this post again, seeing that so many are still thinking that having muscles, tattoos and piercings makes you heterosexual or at least bi. Cause, I mean, you must be sexually attracted to women if you are super masculine, and get tattoos or pierce your body, right?

Oh boy, this is a long one. I haven't even started with Stationhead, lol.

So, JK is trying to show us he's a complex human being. This is him. Not one MV or song he chose to sing. The full picture. The shoots he chooses, the concepts for his songs (do I have to remind of his Seven concept shoot?), his lives, what he shared with us (as in past tense cause Idk how much more he will with everything that's going on).

And in the midst of this, knowing you are in a committed relationship, having your integrity, your good name smeared, being with the person you love and knowing that the world not only doesn't see how dear you are to each other but also thinks you're being sexually intimate with multiple others. Not to mention, having to deal at this young age with the knowledge that there are people out there that hate you enough to want to hurt you on such a level, to ruin your good name, your career. It can be paralyzing. And they put on a brave face. JK says he knows people hate him and good for them, he'll continue to live his life. But it's hard, it's hurtful, and these two, they are the kindest sweetest people out there, they don't deserve this.

OMG, when will I finally get to the point?

I think about now would be a good time.

So, no speaking up. No announcement. But at the same time they don't want to just sit there and take it.

Phew, here we go?

JK came today, 1st October (or more so 1st Jimtober) to Stationhead after his 3D dance practice video landed (same day).

And by some strange coincidence (no coincidence at all), JM released his second #ThisisJimin dance clip to Dominic Fike's Phone Numbers with these lyrics, coincidentally:

Woah, Kenny! Why you not here with me? Can you break bread with me? Why you switch phone numbers like clothes? Why you can't answer me? (Yeah) 'Cause I got more coming

(Not a love song)

Using a prop. Wait for it...

Oh, and the outfits that happen to be kind of similar and sticking to the black and white.

I feel like I'm repeating myself here, but you know, sometimes you need to in order to hammer the message in.

And JK, well he also posted a selfie on Weverse (while on Stationhead).

1st Jimtober with his fave Jack Skellington.

So yeah. The little things. Those little codes that say "we are here, we are ok, all is well, this will definitely not break us."

Yes. I get all of that from those little things, lol.

But, it didn't end with that.

And here we are.

Finally at the precipice.

Well, not precipice per say. That's being a little dramatic. But I am finally going to get to JK on Stationhead, as in what we got from him during the show.

I guess with this long introduction I should start with the Jikook related, right?

Let's start with JK repeating the endearment JM used in his IG post for 3D.

And then JK basically confirmed that he and JM were together when drawing the cloud whale drawing JM shared with us on IG telling us JK drew it.

Making sure we know that they drew the whale together.

You don't have to understand Korean to hear the amusement in his voice. We don't know when this was taken (CT or perhaps more recently... although my initial thought was CT I'm kind of leaning to it being more recent, like very recent), but we know they were together. We thought so and now JK confirmed it.

Enjoyed confirming it.

He also brought up JM's birthday being this month. Yes, he could be reacting to comments, but we've discussed this multiple times in the past. You know. Choices. And in this case, his choice which ones to answer, right?

Once again, it's all in the way it's all being said. The "I know something you don't" tone of voice. The "a-ha, yeah, Uhah" while supposedly looking up if he's doing something on the day. The "I'm going to be busy...I see I have a schedule..?" ending with a question mark? As in "do I really?" Lol.

The way he was talking, the man has something planned. I really don't want to have any expectations here. But man, he's making it hard for me not to have them. Lmao.

And another JM related comment he chooses to answer:

This time you don't get the sassiness or teasing in his voice like we did with the JM birthday answer. Idk why they aren't doing each other's challenges. It's for them to know. We know JK was showing/teaching JM Seven moves. We know that JK knew SMF pt. 2 moves. I guess it's something they just decided between them. Or perhaps schedules didn't and aren't aligning. Who knows. And who knows, we might just get a surprise. Next phone song JM does could be 3D, lol.

Ok, so he saw his parents. He goes on to also talk about his mother's cooking (oh, that man is so in trouble with his mom calling her cooking bland, lmao). Kind of gathering from it all that JK was in Busan for the holiday. Could that photo JM shared, you know, the one JK made sure we know they both drew the whale on, have been taken when they were both down in Busan for the holiday? I wonder...

This here is, I feel, JK clapping back a little at the haters. But also telling us, once again, that he's an adult and does adult things. Knows how to work hard when needed, and when to "play hard", as in relax and have a good time, when allowed.

This one isn't about Jikook (well in a sense maybe it is, as it's about shooting down TKKs hopes and prayers, lol). JK clarifying Tae's story about him recording a song at JK's place and JK directing him.

So, no pre-planning, JK's reply "and I was like "suddenly"? And also letting us know Tae didn't record the final at his place. Burn, lol. Also answers (again - like in the Inkigayo live) a question about karaoke with Tae. More or less same answer. More or less "that's a no"?

And this I already shared with you guys:

This is basically JK. Again, when he says I'm showing you my true self. It's not the image of the hunky guy with the sexy expressions doing that sexy choreography with the female dancers hands on him. Well not only. It's the shy introvert that feels awkward when these women are touching him. And just to be clear here. This isn't me saying anything about his sexuality. But it's definitley me saying he is not this careless truckboy people are so badly wanting him to be. Being an adult and having sex (let's call it rex from now on), a lot of it, enjoying it, doesn't make it the core of who you are as a person, doesn't mean you are having rex with multiple people for the only pursual of physical gratification nor does it mean that the rex you are having is necessarily with a female even if you are singing a song saying girl in it, to which the lyrics were not written by yourself. JK also sang a song about having rex 7 days a week, but with that one person, in his words, wanting to be all the time with "the love of my life". See, that was a little slip of the tongue by him, lol. But very revealing. Thank you ever so much for that one JK.

Do you understand the difference here?

One being lyrics to a song he's performing, him being a singer. Lyrics he didn't write himself.

The other is his explanation, his take on the meaning of the song he is singing (also not written by him). Inserting that little very personal touch.

Do we get it? JK isn't the lyrics, the lyrics aren't JK.

Oh, and by the by, JK's lyrics aren't referencing multiple partners. If we are being all about "but he's singing it, so it must be who he is". The multiple partners, the truckboy image, that's Jack Harlow's bit. JK is still talking to one person.

But again, I stress, the song doesn't represent JK as a person or his character. And those that are making that leap are simply...

Moving on.

JK's asked which he prefers more? 7 or 3D. Very diplomatically makes sure we know that at the time he liked Seven and now it's leaning more towards 3D. Well duh, this is him promoting it. Then he combines the two to 7D.

"What's your favourite part of 3D?" Him asking the listeners.

JK talked about eating chicken, being busy practicing all the time (I am curious to know what for), finishing up and going home to workout, shower and sleep.

He also talked about GCF and his appreciation for Army.

Asked about music or variety show, and the answer is probably not, it's hard for him (this is where the shy introvert part of him wins, I guess). It's easier to be alone on a stage in front of thousands performing than have to interact one on one with people that you aren't as familiar or comfortable with. On stage you go after much practice. Small talk and interviews and socializing means having to be focused (neuro divergent prince here) and it's so so hard for a shy introvert to deal with. Key word ALONE.

Although he's asked about further plans he's adamant not to give spoilers (well, more so afraid he'll be told off by the company, lol).

He misses the old days I guess. Of Kakao Fancafe. The intimacy of it. The safety of it perhaps.

He also wants to cook for army.

I feel like him telling us he is pulling back on the lives, allowing for the mystery, well he's also missing those lives. He needs that connection with his fans. Maybe even more so with this path he's going down, disconnecting from the idol and becoming the mega star. He needs that emotional connection with his fans. But at the same time, a more intimate setting, where he can really connect with them, is something he prefers.

And again, the connection with Army.

About the members:

F u c k , this is getting way too long. I can't talk about it all. I will add a couple more things and leave it at that. My apologies.

So, this is another clap back from JK:

Oh, and this was curious.

Ooh, one last thing.

He finally tells us where he got the scar on his shoulder from. Well, not too glamorous, lol. He slipped and fell while running in the car park shooting the CK ad. Hurt his finger as well, but that has healed already by now.

JK ending with:

Funny how the little things just added up. All very little perhaps inconsequential actions as of themselves, but add them together and you get a message.

One you will see if only you wish to.

Oh, and end comment. This is utterly disgusting and childish and I'm at a total loss for words here.

We have 2 more of these coming, if I'm not mistaken. Will be interesting to see what we get next.

[sloanesallow]

The Call of the Void | Chapter 5

Shy girl meets distracted boy. Chaos ensues. This is my "canon" retelling of Siobhan Sloane and Sebastian Sallow's story. (full synopsis here. Chapter summary: A perfectly normal trip to Hogsmeade. Maybe. Definitely not. 4.5k words. Chapter warnings: Awkward Sebastian POV rambling, a lot of blushing, cringy one-liners and oh yeah, a troll. [Ao3] | [Wattpad] [PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

V: H O G S M E A D E

The following afternoon, Sebastian waits in the Bell Tower as instructed, dressed appropriately with a full belly and a (mostly) rested mind. He can’t help but pace, counting the steps he takes along the marble from one side of the hall to the other, desperately trying to quiet the anxious thoughts bouncing around in his head. 

Despite Professor Weasley’s assurance that Sloane knows about the trip to Hogsmeade, the girl didn’t spare Sebastian one glance that morning in Potions, even when his cauldron accidentally bubbled over and Garreth teased him about being worse than the first years. Not that he can fault her avoidance, considering the outcome of their duel. He’s been replaying what happened in Hecat’s classroom over and over, switching between guilt and annoyance for feeling guilty. But he can’t get Sloane’s stormcloud eyes out of his head, leaving him more perplexed and frustrated than ever. There is no reason for him to be so hung up on someone he barely knows, yet the worrying persists.

“Erm…hello.”

What time is it? Sebastian restlessly taps his fingers against his thigh, wondering what he’ll tell Professor Weasley if Sloane doesn’t show up. Knowing his luck, the Headmistress will blame him and add several more days to his already robust detention schedule. How embarrassing is it to be stood up by the new girl?

“Sebastian Sallow?”

He snaps his head up and spins around to see Sloane standing in front of him with the same distressed expression she’s held since the sorting ceremony. He realizes this is the first time he’s heard her speak, her voice a quiet timbre with just the slightest hint of an accent he can’t quite place. He hides his surprise behind a lopsided grin.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

The crease between Sloane’s eyebrows deepens as she offers no response. Sebastian clears his throat and briefly considers giving up now before he makes an ass of himself again. He’s always appreciated a good challenge, but casting a corporeal Patronus might be easier than breaking through her emotional walls. The silence stretches on as he takes in her appearance, smirking when he notices they are wearing the same dark grey jumper.

“I already have a twin, you know,” he attempts humor again, gesturing to her outfit.

Sloane’s eyes widen and she looks down, nervously plucking at the hem. “Should I change?”

“What?” Sebastian’s concern for the poor girl increases—does she not understand sarcasm? “No, no,” he assures with a strained laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Professor Weasley told me you need supplies, including a new wand,” he keeps talking before the tension turns awkward—if it hasn’t already. “Will this really be your first foray into Hogsmeade?”

“Yes,” she answers, one more word than he expected.

“Well, I shall endeavor to be the best of guides, then,” he says, jovially swinging his arm. Sebastian doesn’t mean to sound so facetious, but he’s never struggled this badly with talking to another person. “Shall we?”

Outside, he continues to watch Sloane in his peripheral, the two silent as they make their way across the castle grounds. What can he say to bring her out of her shell? He briefly considers saying nothing the entire trip to Hogsmeade, but even Sebastian knows it’s impossible for him to stay quiet for long. Kind—that’s what Professor Weasley expects, and so that is what he will strive to be.  

It’s surprisingly busy for the middle of a school day, her gaze turning upward as several students on brooms zip by, headed for the pitch. Even with Headmaster Black’s cancelation, many still wish to practice and play, even if it’s just a friendly skirmish.

“Do you like Quidditch?” he asks before he can remember she is muggleborn and likely has no idea what Quidditch is. On cue, Sloane’s eyebrows crease together in confusion. “Right. Sorry. Well, I won’t bore you with an explanation now, or we’ll never make it to Hogsmeade. Are you at least enjoying learning how to fly?”

Sloane’s cheeks flush with color as she quickly shakes her head. “No.”

“No?” Sebastian repeats, surprised by her quick and firm objection. He isn’t sure he knows any witch or wizard that doesn’t enjoy flying. It’s arguably one of the best parts of having magic. “You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

He glances to see her face an even brighter shade of pink. The temptation to tease has him biting the inside of his cheek. Sebastian tugs at his collar and then rolls up his sleeves, cursing Ominis for encouraging (demanding) he wear something presentable when it’s unseasonably warm. As they continue through the north exit, he tries a different approach.

“We share quite a lot of classes, don’t we?” he muses, seven to be exact. On Thursdays, they are practically attached at the hip from Transfiguration in the morning, to Arithmancy and Herbology in the afternoon.

Sloane slowly nods. “Yes.”

“Did you finish the numerology assignment?”

“Yes.”

“What about the essay for Professor Garlick?”

“Yes,” she says again and he can’t stop himself.

“Do you know more than thirteen words?”

Sloane falters, and Sebastian is quick to backpedal. “Sorry, that—” he sighs, wishing he could swallow his own tongue. “That came out wrong. What I mean is…you’re awfully shy, aren’t you?”

“Not by choice,” she replies, solemnly.

It’s rare for Sebastian to be at a loss for words, once again frustrated by how difficult basic conversation with Sloane is proving to be. “Sorry.”

She acknowledges his apology with a wry smile, the silence returning as they walk along the cobblestone. He flicks his eyes back and forth between her and the path until she catches him looking. To his surprise, she asks him a question.

“Do you know why Professor Weasley asked you to accompany me?”

Sebastian doesn’t answer right away, too distracted by the Irish lilt he finally picks up on. It’s barely there, recognizable only when she has more to say—he’ll have to hear it again to be sure. He shrugs, deciding to skirt around the truth. “Likely to keep me out of detention.”

“Oh?”

“Not the most favorable record I keep,” he explains. “It’s never anything nefarious, not really. But I’ve been known to break curfew, and… occasionally sneak into the Restricted Section, or the kitchens.”

“The kitchens?”

“Of course!” Sebastian laughs. “It’s always a smart idea to keep a snack in your pocket, for emergencies.” He pulls a handkerchief-wrapped cookie from his pocket, picking off a piece of lint before breaking it in half. “Want some?”

Sloane hesitates, as if he’s handing her poison, but eventually takes the offering. “Thank you.”

“Have you explored the castle since your arrival?” he asks next, wiping his face of any crumbs as he finishes his half of the cookie.

“Not much,” she answers before elaborating. “I worry about getting lost.”

“I’ve been here five years and I’m still getting turned around by the moving staircases,” he chuckles. “There’s lots of mysteries to discover, if you’ve the time.”

“Like what?”  

Sebastian smirks. “Can’t go around telling you all my secrets, now can I?”

The way she blushes and looks away is endearing—he’s never known anyone so easily flustered. Well, except for Ominis, who is usually annoyed by Sebastian’s antics. At least Sloane isn’t frowning anymore. He studies her profile while she nibbles on her share of the cookie, grey eyes focused on the thick line of trees to their left.

“The Forbidden Forest,” he explains. “Out of bounds to all students.”

Sloane takes a moment to observe the cluster of warning signs placed by the Headmaster and Ministry. “I can see why,” she replies. “What are…Acromantula?”

“Giant spiders.”

“Giant what?”

“Spiders,” Sebastian repeats.

She shudders. “There’s a forest of giant spiders so close to the school?”

“Not only Acromantula,” he says, matter-of-fact. “There are ashwinders, dubogs, thornbacks, trolls, werewolves, a Centaur colony, blood-sucking bugbears, bowtruckles, manticores…not to mention all the poachers…oh, and at least one giant, so I hear—”

He stops when he notices Sloane’s horrified expression. “It’s not all bad…” he tries to reassure. “I’ve yet to spot one, but there are unicorns in the forest, too.”

“You’ve been inside the forest?” she questions, alarmed.

“It’s an excellent location to test one’s defensive abilities,” he shrugs. “I’ve always preferred practicality. Why teach us defensive magic if we aren’t allowed to use it?”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

Sebastian does a double take, surprised by her comment. She isn’t vilifying his actions, but there’s something in her tone that has his gut churning almost guility.

You sound like Ominis, is what he almost says. “Perhaps.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as they walk on, Hogsmeade now visible beyond the rolling hills and ruins. It isn’t until a carriage passes by that he speaks up again.

“Thestrals,” he murmurs.

“You can see them?” Sloane asks.

“Unfortunately. I assume Professor Fig told you why?”

When she nods, he’s curious but sympathetic. Some forget the price paid to witness such a creature, but he knows all too well the pain associated with the gift. Perhaps this is why he recognizes the melancholy in her—it is the same sadness he fights every day to suppress.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all he can offer.

“So am I.”

Wanting nothing more than to chase the somber mood away before it can truly settle in, Sebastian forces a smile. “We’ll need to get you a butterbeer after we’re finished with your errands. Do you like sweets?” Sloane nods again and this time he doesn’t have to fake his reaction. “Good.”

Hogsmeade is bustling with activity, but the chaos is comforting to Sebastian as he takes in the familiar sights and sounds. Sloane looks on in wonder, her wide eyes darting from one building to the next. He softly laughs, wondering if he looked equally awestruck when he first visited the village.

“Careful,” he calls out, grabbing her by the elbow to pull her out of the oncoming path of a few rowdy children. “I’ll be facing a fate worse than detention if you end up trampled.”

Sloane is close enough that he finds himself silently counting the freckles dotting her nose until she pulls away with a renewed blush. His amusement lingers as he gestures toward the entrance to Tomes & Scrolls.

“I’ll be right with you!” Mr. Brown, the proprietor, calls from the back room. Sebastian leisurely browses while Sloane stands nearby, her hands neatly folded as if she’s afraid to touch anything.

“Have you read these?” he asks, fingers tracing over the book spines in the small collection of muggle works. Sloane takes a cautious step closer, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Jane Austen,” she quietly admits, and for the first time, there is a tiny, genuine smile on her lips. The sight momentarily distracts Sebastian, but he eventually pulls one of the books from the shelf—Mansfield Park. Sloane’s smile brightens. “My favorite.”

He smirks, filing the bit of information away with everything else he’s learned about her today. Happiness suits her, makes her golden.

“Ahem!” Mr. Brown interrupts the moment, and Sebastian glances over to see the man glaring in his direction. “I hope you plan on paying for that, Mr. Sallow.”

Sebastian sheepishly digs through his pockets for some coin as he approaches the counter. He hands over a few Knuts, but when Mr. Brown motions for more, he places the last Sickle he has into the man’s hand. 

“Thank you,” he chirps, grinning as he turns his attention to Sloane. “You must be the new fifth year. Professor Weasley already sent an owl with the list of books and spellcraft you need.”

Mr. Brown swishes his wand, summoning several books and scrolls from the shelves into a neat pile for her to take. “This should be everything you need for a successful school year, plus a few extra readings to assist with filling in the gaps in your education.”

Sloane inspects the stack with some apprehension, and Sebastian is about to offer some assistance when she pulls out her wand, concentrating as she carefully casts Evanesco, disappearing the supplies away.

She sighs, visibly relieved by the simple achievement. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Mr. Brown cheerfully replies, his demeanor hardening ever so slightly as he looks at Sebastian again. “Mr. Sallow.”         

Outside, he offers Sloane some encouragement as she continues to twist the wand in her palm. “Good work casting Evanesco, much easier than lugging a pile of books around.”

“It’s the first spell Professor Fig taught me,” she says, nervously. “Though, I’m not always successful in bringing things back.”

“It’ll be easier once you have your own wand,” he suggests, leading the way to their next stop. “Ollivanders will have what you need.”

She hesitates by the door, looking back at him as if to question why he isn’t joining her. “Choosing a wand—rather, a wanding choosing you—is best done in private. I wouldn’t want to be a distraction,” he explains with a coy wink. “In the meantime, I can visit Pippins and the Magic Neep for you, and we can rendevous in the town square. How does that sound?”

“Alright,” Sloane softly agrees before disappearing into the shop.

At first, Mr. Pippins doesn’t believe Sebastian when he says he’s there to collect Sloane’s supplies, only relenting after taking an exuberantly long time to review his ledger for Professor Weasley’s notice. Mr. Teasdale is far more trusting, adding in a few extra dittany seeds for good measure. By the time he makes his way to the town square, Sloane is already there, patiently standing near the large oak tree, head tilted up as she tracks the flight of owls departing the post office. He’s pleased to see her so relaxed, flashing a grin when she notices his arrival.

“So? How’d it go?” he greets. She reveals her new wand, and Sebastian can immediately sense something in her aura has shifted. He inspects the wand—the wood is light in color and looks as if it was plucked from a forest floor. “English Oak?”

“Mr. Ollivander said it has a unicorn hair core and that it was very fitting for a Hufflepuff,” she shrugs a little. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“He’s right,” Sebastian says. “You have a loyal wand. It means another witch or wizard would struggle to use it. You’ll be a force to be reckoned with in no time.”

Sloane smiles and he’s about to suggest they make their way to The Three Broomsticks when a loud rumbling echoes in the distance. Sebastian quickly brandishes his wand, his eyes going wide when a troll suddenly leaps into the town square. He instinctively pulls Sloane from the troll’s path of destruction, adrenaline heating the blood rushing through his veins. A Ministry official and a few shopkeepers attack the troll, redirecting the beast’s attention so it can be lured away from the village. He barely has enough time to catch Sloane’s panicked expression when there’s another crash as a second troll appears from the rubble of a destroyed building.

Sebastian is casting spells before he can fully process the reality of what is happening. A troll in Hogsmeade? It is no ordinary troll, that much he can tell by its glowing red eyes and armor. The beast lunges forward and Sebastian is certain he’s about to have his brain clubbed out of his skull when he sees the faint shimmer of a protective shield. He snaps his gaze to Sloane, the power radiating off of her unrecognizable, almost frightening. She’d managed a wordless shield charm yesterday as well, but this one was stronger. There’s no time for him to ask questions, however, as the troll swings at them again, undeterred.

“Bombarda!” he shouts, diving out of the way as the troll attempts to knock him to the ground.

Sebastian doesn’t like to admit that he’s scared, but this isn’t the kind of fight he’s used to. It’s one thing to duel, or pluck off ankle-biter spiders with sparks, but a troll is a completely different wheelhouse. He shoots off several more firey spells until there’s a sudden chill that sends a shiver down his spine. It’s similar to the sensation he felt the day before when Sloane’s magic slipped past his defenses and seized his heart. He looks over just in time to witness her cast, dark blue tendrils wrapping around the troll’s head before she topples it over with the flick of her wrist. She lifts her arm in a wide arc, effortlessly suspending the hideous creature in midair, its body crashing into the cobblestone a few seconds later.

When the troll ceases to move, Sebastian stares at Sloane, flabbergasted by what he’s just witnessed. Who the hell is this girl? A muggleborn farmgirl who can defeat a troll like a seasoned auror, but not him in a practice duel? He hurries over to where she’s standing in a haze, her body swaying as she struggles to catch her breath. The Ministry official—Officer Singer—returns as well, equally bewildered by the sight of the unconscious troll. 

“Sloane?” He’s cautious, momentarily worried she might fling him into the afterlife next. “Are you alright?” He touches her arm but immediately recoils with a hiss—she’s hot to the touch, whatever magic she possesses burning his palm. Sebastian flexes his hand and shakes off the pain. “How—how in Merlin’s name did you do that?”

“I—” Sloane’s eyes are wide and wild, shaking her head as she stares at her hands. Was she not in control of herself just now? “I don’t know.”

Officer Singer’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but she’s quickly distracted by the distressed villagers to probe any further. Sebastian takes the opportunity to make a swift exit, ignoring the searing heat that continues to radiate off of Sloane as he grasps her arm.

“Let’s go.”

His heart is still racing as they leave the town square, mind swirling with a never-ending list of questions. Sloane’s stoicism is the only thing that prevents him from blurting them out. He aimlessly leads her through the village, many of the inhabitants already flocking to see what the ruckus was all about. He’s wondering how Professor Weasley will find a way to hold him responsible for putting the new girl in danger when Sloane stops mid-stride.

“What is it?”

Sebastian follows her line of sight to where a familiar man is slipping into a nearby alley. What is Victor Rookwood doing in Hogsmeade? It’s no secret that he is the leader of the dark wizard gangs terrorizing the Highlands, and yet, he’s seemingly protected from prosecution by blood status and the galleons he uses to line Ministry officials’ pockets. Sebastian’s curiosity gets the better of him, though he’s relieved when Sloane moves with him to eavesdrop. He huddles close—she’s still warm—and peers over her shoulder.

Rookwood isn’t alone. His second in command, Theophilus Harlow, stands beside another recognizable figure. The leader of the goblin rebellion.  

“Ranrock,” Sebastian growls, balling his hands into fists to temper the flare of anger. 

The conversation isn’t audible, but it doesn’t take a genius to deduce their presence is related to the troll attack, and that something worse is imminent. Ranrock paces as he speaks, and when his head snaps up to where Sebastian and Sloane are standing, she sucks in a sharp breath and ducks out of view. He refrains from commenting on the vice grip of her hand on his forearm as they rush away from the scene. At the end of the street, they glance back to see Rookwood and Harlow exiting the alley, shouting at them to stop.

“This way,” Sebastian directs, silently praying that the men aren’t stupid enough to attack two students in broad daylight, in Hogsmeade. They hastily take refuge inside The Three Broomsticks, where Sirona Ryan greets them with a curious look, the two taking a seat at the end of the counter.

“Sallow? I trust you’ve been staying out of trouble?” she questions, eyebrow raised. “What’s this I hear about a troll attacking the town square?”

“News travels fast, I see,” Sebastian mumbles, shaking his head as if to dismiss the conversation before it can start. Best not to raise suspicions—he doesn’t think Sloane will appreciate the attention, even if she just single-handedly took down a troll. “I’ve simply been escorting my new friend here on her first trip to Hogsmeade.”

“I was wondering why I haven’t seen your face before,” Sirona muses, looking at Sloane. She snaps her head up when she realizes she’s being spoken to. 

“It’s…my first time here,” she says, and Sebastian frowns at the return of her meek, quiet voice. In the span of a few hours, he’s managed to see her blossom and wilt, experience her warmth, only to see it snuffed out.

Sirona is keen enough not to press for more details. “Well then, welcome!” she grins, flashing Sebastian a skeptical glance as she summons two tankards with the swish of her wand. “Butterbeers on me.”

“Thank you,” Sloane politely replies.

“My pleasure,” Sirona nods, keeping a careful watch on the two as they sip their drinks. “Are you sure—”

Whatever question Sirona is about to ask is interrupted as the doors to the pub slam open, Rookwood and Harlow striding in with determination. She rounds the counter to halt their intrusion, and Sebastian can’t help but notice the way Sloane’s grip tightens around her tankard of butterbeer. 

“You two look lost,” Sirona quips. “Would you like directions to the Hog’s Head?”

Rookwood snarls, unamused by her sarcasm. Still, he gestures for Harlow to hold back as the other man reaches for his wand. “No need, Theophilus,” he sneers, moving his hand to point at Sloane instead. “I’m sure the girl will come with us, quietly.”

Sebastian doesn’t hesitate to stand when Sloane does, hiding his alarm—she doesn’t mean to surrender, does she? And what does Rookwood want with Sloane in the first place? Her magic? It’s the only reasonable answer he can come up with at the moment, but it does little to calm his nerves.

When Rookwood dares to advance, Sirona steps to block him, wand in hand. Sebastian does the same, several other patrons standing with their wands at the ready. He senses the spark of Sloane’s magic come to life, wondering if anyone else can feel it too.

The standoff lasts long enough for Rookwood to realize he’s outnumbered. They are slow to depart, his glare lingering on Sloane until Sirona shoves the door shut in their faces. It’s only then that Sloane slumps, eyes closed as she releases a shaky breath.

“I think it’s best you two head back to the castle,” Sirona suggests, more concerned than ever. “Before Rookwood and Harlow decide to come back with reinforcements.”

Sebastian doesn’t protest but patiently waits until Sloane silently signals that she’s ready to leave. For what feels like the hundredth time that day, he is at a loss for words. Anything he could say, any question he thinks to ask just doesn’t seem appropriate, not now, not when Sloane is so visibly shaken by the day’s events.

“Sloane?” It takes a moment for her to glance his way, a crease in her brow he wants to make disappear. Her eyes are glazed over with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t exactly the trip to Hogsmeade I anticipated.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she says with a slight shake of her head.

“It isn’t yours, either.”

She doesn’t look convinced and he has to wonder all over again what she isn’t telling him. Not that he has the right to know, not when they’ve barely known each other for more than a few days if not hours. Her eyes flick back to the ground as they walk the rest of the way back to Hogwarts in silence.

They arrive at the Great Hall in time for dinner, and it looks like Sloane is finally about to say something when Poppy Sweeting comes running up, grasping her friend by the shoulders.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright!” she cries out in relief. “Is it true there was a troll attack in Hogsmeade? We were all so worried about you!”

Poppy spares Sebastian a glance that is too quick to discern as either friendly or menacing before the pint-sized girl drags Sloane away to the safety of the Hufflepuff table. He contemplates calling it an early night when his stomach rudely reminds him of how long it’s been since he last ate.

“You look like shite, Sallow,” Imelda greets as Sebastian plops down next to her at the Slytherin table. She scoots to create more distance.

Across from him, Ominis pauses mid-sip of his soup to agree. “You smell it, too. Did you go to Hogsmeade or the Bog?”

“Fuck off,” Sebastian grumbles, rolling his eyes as he hungrily bites into a buttered roll. He can worry about bathing later.

“What happened to your hand?” Imelda asks, unbothered by his foul language.

Sebastian looks at his palm, having almost forgotten the burn of Sloane’s magic. His skin his red and slightly blistered as if he held it over an open flame. “Nothing a little trip to the infirmary can’t fix.”

Ominis scoffs, and Sebastian prepares himself for the inevitable lecture. He loves his friend like a brother, but he’s gotten fairly good at tuning him out and instead glances over Ominis’ shoulder to where Sloane is sitting with her housemates, Poppy and Lenora excitedly yapping as she listens on. He can’t help but feel concerned, dissatisfied with how their first outing ended. Aside from the danger, he rather enjoyed his time with her but doubts Sloane would be willing to do so again. Besides, he has more important things to worry about than a mysterious girl with mysterious powers and a cute—

“Are you even listening to me?” Ominis snaps, breaking Sebastian from his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Oh, for the love of—” Ominis hesitates, his expression slowly shifting from annoyance to something akin to amused curiosity.

“What is it?” Sebastian asks, unsure if he would be alarmed by his friend’s demeanor.

Ominis shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes and is about to return to his mean when he dares to look across the hall again. This time, Sloane’s gaze meets his and he chances a small smile.

She smiles back.

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated 💛

[rosapexa]

2087 - 2091: The final chapters

In 2087 Lexa and Johnny were both wounded by an encounter with Arasaka (no, they didn't stop to piss them off). With Johnny being severely wounded and Lexa barely surviving herself.

Lexa was so desperate and full of rage, that Arasaka killed her beloved husband (again), that she wanted nothing but revenge.

After the events of Dogtown and stealing Songbird's knowledge about the Blackwall (Lexa hacked into So Mi's mind, while she was unconcious and basically defenseless) before sending her to the moon, Lexa already experimented with the Blackwall. Not as much as she actually wanted to. Because Johnny basically pleaded with her, since he was afraid, the Blackwall would kill her, like it almost killed So Mi. And for Lexa allthough the power of the Blackwall was so tempting (and she tasted that power when raiding the Arasaka tower during Mikoshi) it was more important so keep what she had with Johnny.

But Johnny was gone and she didn't really care anymore, if she lives or dies as long as she can take revenge on Arasaka. And using the Blackwall's power seemed to be the only way for her.

But allthough Lexa had the knowledge how to use the Blackwall, she didn't have the Cyberware to use it's full potential. And there was no Ripper who could give her, what she needed.

So she turned to the one place, which had that knowledge and the will: Militech.

They thrown her out years ago, but her brother, David, took their father's high place in Militech, after his death and was leading Militech's Netrunner division. And Lexa also knew, they still tried to make another Songbird but failed every time. They never found the right individual, with the skills and will.

Lexa made her brother an offer. They give her what Songebird had and all the improvement they might have theoretically made over the last 10 years and she will do everything what Militech asks from her. As long as they let her get her revenge on Arasaka. She even promised to not leave any traces to Militech.

David agreed and after the surgeries and a brutal recovery, Militech had again (yes, i was always convinced Meyers=Militech) their netrunning mass destruction weapon.

As promised Lexa did everything, what Militech ordered her to do. She didn't care about the consequences to her body or her mind. And at the same time, she relentlessly and brutally attacked Arasaka. None of their Netrunners was safe anymore and she made it almost impossible for Arasaka to operate in the net.

Lexa was miserable and lonely in this time. She didn't really feel any joy except when she went against Arasaka and when she used the Blackwall. She started to lose herself in being nothing but the Netrunner Gh0st. The rare times she didn't spend in the net she just was by herself, missing Johnny and just buried herself in her memories of him, relived their times together.

Even David felt so sorry for his sister, that he tried to get through to her. He tried too get her out of her shell, her loneliness, but with the exeption for maybe once or twice, he was unsuccessful.

Unfortunately David was not sorry enough to tell her the truth about Johnny. He wanted sometimes. But then again, Militech was still his priority.

The thing is Johnny wasn't dead. Once again that man was too stubborn to die. But it took him months to recover. And after that, he wanted to find his wife again.

But no one knew, where she went. Not Victor who took care of Johnny's recovery. Not Misty with who Lexa left Nibbles, before she disappeared. Not Dum Dum, who has always been her closest friend besides Jackie after All Foods in 2077. Not even Panam or Mama Welles knew, where Lexa was.

In 2088 though Johnny got a mail from an unknown sender, who told him, that Lexa was alive and working for Militech.

At the same time, that same person left a hint in one of Arasaka's runners, during one of Lexa's attacks, that Johnny was not dead.

Both didn't believe it first. Lexa was so sure, Johnny was dead and Johnny couldn't believe, that Lexa went back to Militech. But she was able to contact him anyway (without Militech's knowledge) and she was beyond happy and yet also shocked, when she found out, that Johnny really was alive.

And she was scared, because of how much she changed, which she didn't tell and show him at first. She told him, she used Militech's assets to get revenge for his death, but didn't tell him completely at what cost. Johnny knew, she was hiding something. He just knew her so well, but didn't pressure much, because he just wanted her back.

She also found out, that Militech knew that Johnny wasn't dead. They and David found out after her surgeries and during her recovery.

Lexa was furious, but also knew she needed a plan to get out of Militech, instead of just lashing out.

So she and Johnny came up with a plan to once again raid a corpo tower. This time Militech. She from the inside and him along with Maelstrom from the outside.

Lexa was able to connect herself with basically everything in the Militech building in the core of the bulding. It was convenient for her and every other Militech runner, but now that was also Militech's biggest mistake.

She opened every door and disarmed every automatic defence system or turned them against Militech, so Johnny and Maelstrom could basically just march into the building. But it was also draining her. She had the surprise attack and the Blackwall on her side, but she also trained a lot of the Netrunner's in that building over the last year. So the ones who were left relentlessly attacked her.

When Johnny reached her, he was relieved, happy but also shocked to see her. He couldn't believe what she did to herself. But most importantly he found his wife and wanted nothing more than to take her home.

Getting in was one thing, but getting out another. Especially since Lexa wasn't able to help much anymore.

But surprisingly, David let them go. Maybe he found his conscience in this moment again or his past love for his baby sister. Or maybe he was just sure, Lexa would soon die anyway, but he just let them go as long as they would stay away from Militech.

Johnny agreed and David promised in return to make sure, that everyone thinks, Lexa is dead. And he kept his promise.

Again a long recovery was ahead of Lexa. Victor did his best to help her, but he didn't even understand half of the things in her body. But the improvements Militech made over the years to this kind of Cyberware, protected her better from the side effect, when using the Blackwall. So at least she got a chance.

Johnny took care of her, as he did after Mikoshi. He was so worried about her, because her condition was even worse, than back then. Not only physically but also mentally. And allthough he understood why she did, what she did with her body and mind, he was also angry with her.

Lexa on the other hand dealt with a lot nightmares (some things behind the Blackwall should no human ever see) and tried to get her beginning Cyberpsychosis under control. And she was now so ashamed of what she had become. She was scared, that Johnny might not be able to love her anymore. That he wanted to leave her. And she told him, he's free to go. She understood, if he couldn't stand her anymore. And while Johnny told her, how mad he was at her for doing this to herself. How worried he was, that she was so reckless with herself, he also made it clear, he won't leave her and that he never even thought about that. He still loved her as always and to never tell him again, he's free to leave, because she is his and he is hers and nothing will change that.

It took time, but Lexa got so much better, physically and mentally, that she could live almost normally again. Allthough she never fully recovered. And she stayed away from the Blackwall. She never touched it ever again and did less and less Netrunning. Because it was mostly too exhausting for her, but also it never felt right again.

As promised they never crossed Militech's path again. But they also stayed away from Arasaka and basically every trouble.

In 2091 Lexa and Johnny decided it's time to start a new life. Nothing in Night City felt right anymore and they still feared they might become the target of someone again. And surpsingly even for themselves, they craved a quiet and peaceful live after everything they've been through. And the only way was to leave their old lifes behind, Arasaka, Militech, Samurai, Netrunning, Night City, everything.

Lexa one last time entered the net and tried to find every information about both of them and deleted them. She left several viruses and programms, that constantly searched for their names and deleted everyhthing.

They said goodbye to the ones important to them and then cut all ties and disappeared.

No one knows where they are. And where they are no one knows who they once were.

But they are happy!

Oh and the very rare times, Lexa's viruses to delete them from the net failed, the same person who informed them in 2088 that their beloved ones are alive, deleted those infos then.

She helped to make sure, that Lexa and Johnny will never be found, if they didn't want to.

And over the years, they will be forgotten and be nothing more, than maybe a little whisper in Night City stories about legends. But these whispers will also fade away eventually.

[molsno]

as I play through them again, I have to say the somnia in nirvana initiative are spectacular. I really enjoy the fact that, while the mechanics of each somnia are the same - thus making it easy to figure out how to progress, the actual gameplay experience of each one is unique, and offers deep insight into the character you're psyncing with.

nefarious institute forces you to combine the traits of several "careers" in order to make use of their abilities. among these careers are ethnic groups, reflecting the fact that horadori is a eugenicist who believes that some people are genetically superior to others, and that people's genes make them predisposed to certain careers. if you want to uncover his secrets, you have to find the set of genes which will make you the "perfect being" (which of course includes his genes because he's incredibly conceited), referencing the human experiments he's personally conducted in order to create such a person.

naixatloz's intentions forces you to solve various riddles and inflicts punishing time penalties if you fail to solve them correctly on the first try, forcing you to consider your every move beforehand; this reflects the way shigure conceals information regarding her plans for the nirvana initiative, but she doesn't make them impossible, because she wants to find the one true frayer who will liberate everyone from the simulation she believes they're all living in. the office in her somnium even acts as a hint leading to the secret elevator in its real world counterpart, almost as if she truly sees potential in ryuki as the frayer and that fact is expressed in her subconscious.

nearly interesting takes the form of a quiz show where you have to choose the right answer, sometimes without even knowing what the question is or what the context even is. its place in the story is meant to be perplexing and unnerving, as you have no reason to believe amame is anything other than a normal high school girl, but as you progress, the questions get darker and more disturbing, suggesting that she's been through more than she lets on. her unexplained preference for choosing the right side over the left is perplexing at first glance, but it sets up for a lot of great foreshadowing!

nemesis identified is so fun because it's a parody of pokemon go. of all the somnia in the game, I think this changes up the gameplay style the most dramatically. there are no puzzles to solve; you just have to collect the best kusemon to join your team so that you can defeat the bosses standing in your way. still, as we've psynced with iris multiple times in the first game, it doesn't offer much insight into her character that we didn't already know; she's still the same bubbly teenage girl we've always known, but she maybe plays kusemon go from time to time with disgraced politician and estranged father sejima so? weird.

necessary intervention takes the form of a cooking show, and I think it's incredibly funny that it makes use of the timie mechanic to reduce the amount of time it takes for aiba to train as a chef from one entire year to one second. based on her reaction, you know that she genuinely experienced every excruciating second of that year. the cooking segment itself is mechanically unique, requiring you to press several button sequences in the correct order before time runs out, but I don't think the actual mechanics of this somnium say much about gen, other than that he likes cooking for people, especially amame.

neurotic inception is by far my favorite somnium in the entire game, as it takes the form of a survival horror game where you have to avoid getting experimented on by horadori at all costs. unlike all of the other somnia, there are points where you can not slow down time at all, creating a sense of urgency unlike any other. you know that if you make even one mistake, horadori is going to catch you, and with the timer rapidly counting down, the pressure to make the right decision is immense. it instills a sense of fear in me I don't often experience in games, and despite the identity of the masked woman being unknown to the player at this time, it puts into perspective just how horrible of a man horadori really was. and given the context that this somnium is based on her childhood memories, it's easy to see why she would be deeply terrified of him; which makes it all the more incredible that she would be willing to confront him directly and do whatever it takes to protect the rabbit, even if it means being subjected to extreme physical pain. she clearly loves that rabbit more than anyone else in the world. it's such an emotional roller coaster of a somnium, I can't praise it enough.

I know uchikoshi wasn't the director of this game so I can't be certain of his role in designing the somnia, but they very much feel like something he would do. as hard as he makes it to like his work sometimes, he's very skilled at using gameplay mechanics to tell stories, which is what makes his games so much fun for me to play.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Hii! I was wondering something about cTechno, but I don't understand that much about his lore, so since you're the oficial Techno specialist I'll ask you. (to be honest I have like a million questions about cTechno, but I'm not gonna annoy you with all of them at once, I'll just ask the one I'm curious about right now)

Who do you think is his favorite/least favorite between Wilbur and Tommy?

I mean, Techno has a complicated relationship with Tommy (and I gotta admit, I'm not sure what's his opinion on Tommy, if he hates or cares for him, or maybe is just upset with him), and Wilbur was a president (government) and a traitor. So like, which one of these two do you do you think he liked (or maybe dislike, if he doesn't like any of them) the most?

Hehe, Official Techno Specialist. I'm not sure if I'm worthy of that title but I will do my best o7 I certainly adore him a whole lot and have thoughts about him constantly. I also love talking about cTechno and answering questions so definitely don't feel scared you'll annoy me. I could talk about that man all day <3

Regarding this specific question though, what matters somewhat is 1) obviously Techno's relationship with both Wilbur and Tommy changes over the course of the story so it kind of depends on what point in the narrative we're looking at and 2) human relationships are very complicated, probably too complicated to boil down to just 'like' and 'dislike'. Especially since his relationships with Wilbur and Tommy are some of the more complicated ones in Techno's lore (especially Tommy).

When it comes to a character like c!Techno specifically, in wanting to know if he likes somebody it's often a lot more useful to look at whether he trusts them.

During Pogtopia, Techno clashes more with Tommy's abrasive attitude and the way he constantly uses Techno for help, with little regard for what Techno actually wants. It's probably safe to say Techno liked Wilbur a bit more at that point, mostly because they were on the same page, though he didn't dislike Tommy necessarily. Techno also felt as if Wilbur was using him to some extent, but since their goals aligned, he was less bothered by it. After the Red Festival, Techno's trust in Wilbur was severely damaged though. And then Nov 16th happened, which Techno regarded as an even bigger betrayal.

After Nov 16th Techno shows fondness and a soft spot for Ghostbur, but also for Tommy in taking him in after exile. Techno clearly doesn't hate either of them but also doesn't trust them (again, especially Tommy). It should be noted that out of all the characters, Techno has a more consistent record of treating Ghostbur as a separate entity from Wilbur. Which is why Techno is able to be pretty chill around him, despite his feelings toward Wilbur's actions.

During this arc, he grows closer to Tommy and a measure of trust builds between them. Again, it's safe to say Techno liked Tommy more than Wilbur (or even Ghostbur) at this point. until the Green Festival, which was another instance of personal betrayal for Techno and one he actually was more hurt by than Nov 16th still.

There are little hints throughout the rest of the story that Techno still does not hate Tommy but he definitely does not trust him and was very hurt by his actions. And that carries a much greater weight for him. The same thing goes for Wilbur - after he was revived, Techno made it pretty clear he didn't trust Wilbur at all. Though again, I wouldn't say he disliked him either. He was pretty neutral about the whole apology thing, though appreciated that Wilbur took responsibility for disregarding Techno's autonomy and using him as a means to an end.

Both relationships are ones where Techno cares about the person involved to some degree, but they also hurt them in such a way that it's impossible to trust them. He neither overtly likes nor dislikes them, the relationships are volatile and that means Techno will guard himself and keep a distance.

Overall though, I'd lean towards saying Techno both likes AND dislikes Tommy more than Wilbur because their relationship was more intense in both directions.

[peanutbutterandfailure]

DilucXGN!Reader-"Real Identity "

Stories of Mondstadts “Darknight Hero” have been circulating the city like wildfire. It seemed like everyone and their cousin had some kind of sighting or interaction with the supposed vigilante; even if it was nothing more than “I saw a shadow disappearing down an alley the other night, it must have been the Darknight Hero!” Other encounters were wildly outlandish and really made you wonder how credible the stories were. It was beginning to seem like you were the only person within the cities walls who had yet to encounter the vigilante of the night.

And that was really starting to grate on your nerves.

If it wasn't for the Abyss Order personally reaching out to you for help in eradicating the supposed Darknight Hero, you wouldn't have believed the legend. You knew how the rumor mill in the city worked, it was how you got most of your information to report back to your superiors. But the Darknight Hero was slippery. Impossible for you to pin down. It was like trying to catch a shadow. But you would find him if it was the last thing you did. The Abyss made you an offer that you couldn't refuse.

You slam your pint glass down on the bar in Angel's Share and let out a frustrated groan. Diluc was tending bar that evening, and he looked over at you with a quirked brow. "Something bothering you, y/n?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. He walks over to you and gently pulls the glass out of your hand before turning and refilling it. He always did that for you when he noticed you were stressed, free refills on the house. You always told him he didn't have to, but he insisted.

Diluc was always like that with you. Constantly worrying about you. Constantly taking care of you. You joked around and called him a mother hen, but you really didn’t mind. Actually, you enjoyed it. You weren’t at all ashamed to admit you liked his attention. You couldn't figure out if his affection was anything more than platonic and you were afraid to ask. You were attracted to him, how couldn't you be, but you knew that one day you would have to leave Mondstadt. Leaving Diluc behind as friend would be hard enough, you didn't want the heartache of having to leave him behind as a partner.

"I'm tired of hearing all these stories about that stupid Darknight Hero!" You exclaim as he turns back to you with your drink. "That's all anyone talks about, and it's driving me crazy!" You look at your handsome friend over the rim of your glass while you take a long drink. Being the owner of both the winery and the tavern, you're sure he's heard his fair share of stories. "What do you think, Diluc?"

"Hm? About the Darknight Hero?" He leans against the bar across from you and ponders for a moment before answering. "I don't hold much merit to it. I think they are tall tales and nothing more."

You purse your lips and take another drink. You should have expected that the stoic redhead would give you an answer like that. So much for getting good gossip from Diluc, you think. But I'm tired of chasing around rumors and whispers. Maybe its time to try and draw him out again myself. You had attempted to lure the Darknight Hero into an ambush on multiple occasions, but it had yet to work. But you wouldn't give up. You wouldn't rest until you had the Darknight Hero in your grasp, slowly snuffing out his life. You wouldn't stop until you got what the Abyss owed you.

So you started spreading seeds. A rumor here. A dropped note there. You slowly weaved a fictional narrative that the Abyss was growing increasingly active in Wolvendom, plotting something. You sprinkled in some speculation that several Lectors were spotted in the area. Supposedly they were even kidnapping people and performing some type of strange ritual on them. If that didn't draw out the vigilante, you didn't know what would. The rumors within the city walls spread and grew, taking hold like an invasive weed. The panic in the city was palpable. The Darknight Hero would have no choice but to act.

Finally, the day came. The day of the supposed gathering of the Abyss Order in Wolvendom. You could barely contain your excitement. This has to work…. It HAS to! You think to yourself as you prepare. Just after sunset, you draw the curtains to block the view of any potential prying eyes. You're in the study of your house, the family home you inherited after your parents tragically "passed away" while traveling in Snezhnaya. A huge memorial service was held for them, to honor "the two upstanding citizens of Mondstadt". The city mourned but you did not, because you knew they just went home.

Walking up to a bookshelf, you easily push it out of the way to reveal a hidden door. The door once led to a small powder room that was intended for the convenience of whoever utilized the study, but it had long ago been converted into a secret storage room by your father. A storage room that, if discovered, would mean your arrest and downfall. You smiled to yourself as you took in your small treasure trove. A wealth of information that, if placed in the wrong hands, could fully mean the end for peace in all of Teyvat. Information that could ruin the governments of all seven nations. Oh yes, even your homeland. You were loyal, of course, but you weren't foolish. You were smart enough to know how to protect your standing in the position you held.

You don your Fatui garb and attach your mask to your hip before picking up a small wooden box that held your most precious possession. You could feel the power it held even through the oak wood. Lifting the lid, you gently take your Delusion in your hand and feel your heart flutter as the power surges into you. "Hello, my darling…" you whisper to it as you attach it to your uniform. You still remember the day you received it from the Tsaritsa, your parents and Pierro smiling proudly. It was the best day of your life, and the last time you cried. It was one of the last days you felt much of anything, if you were being honest with yourself.

Stepping out of the closet, you close the door and make sure the shelf is back flush against the wall before grabbing a cloak and exiting your home, slipping into the night. In your excitement, it doesn't take long for you to reach Wolvendom. Drawing a dagger from your belt, you pull off your cloak and slash it a few times before discarding it on the road. You create fake drag marks in the direction of your ambush point before hiding yourself up a tall tree. If you learned anything from rumors of the Darknight Hero, it was that he had a huge savior complex. Sitting on a sturdy branch with your back against the trunk, your eyes never leave the path below you. You've been waiting so long, you weren't going to slip up and miss your chance. Your reward was almost in your grasp.

You don't know how long you sat there, transfixed and unmoving, but eventually your keen eyes saw a shadow separate itself from the others in the forest and approach your discarded cloak. You lean forward slightly, assessing the person. Was this him? It had to be, who else would be out here this late at night. Your thoughts are confirmed when they step into a patch of moonlight and you can clearly see them. "There you are," you whisper to yourself as you eye up the Darknight Hero. Tall and lean, he's dressed in all black with a hood pulled over his head and an owl mask covering his face. With near silent footsteps, he walks over and kneels down beside your cloak, gently picking it up. He examines it for a few seconds before holding it up to his nose. Did that freak just smell my cloak? You wonder, but you don't have much time to think about it, because in an instant he's standing and hurrying down the path, following the drag marks you made.

It's now or never you tell yourself as you put on your mask and activate your Delusion. You only have a moment to savor the rush of power you get from it as it transforms you. The second it's complete, you drop from your spot in the tree and land with a soft thud behind the man. He whirls quickly and staggers back in surprise. "Fatui!" he spits. "What are you doing here?"

"I have some business with you, Mr. Darknight Hero," you purr, loving the way your voice sounded under the influence of you Delusion.

You can see his eyes are narrow and suspicious behind his mask. "If you're here to keep me from stopping the Abyss-"

You cut him off with a laugh. "Oh sweetie, there was no Abyss Order. No Lectors. No kidnappings or rituals.” You hold your hand up beside your mouth as if you were sharing a secret with him. “It was me the whole time!” You giggle.

“Then are you the reason y/n is missing?” He snarls, holding up your cloak. You were surprised that the Darknight Hero was someone that knew you, especially someone who knew you well enough to recognize your clothes and, apparently, your scent. But you recovered quickly.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” you say with a shrug. “What are you going to do about it big boy?”

The taunt works, just like you hoped it would. He growls and drops your cloak to summon his weapon, but before he can even get the claymore swung around, you have your polearm connecting with his legs. He’s knocked off balance and falls to the ground, but he's quick to recover. Rolling quickly, he's back on his feet and lands a kick to your side. "Where's y/n?!" He roars, picking up his claymore as you right yourself.

"I'll never tell~!" You taunt in a singsong voice as you launch towards him. As the two of you exchange blows, you can understand why the Abyss has been having issues with this man. Even with the aid of your Delusion, he's a formidable opponent. His claymore blazes with the searing fire of his Pyro Vision, and you say a silent prayer of thanks to the Tsaritsa for choosing Hydro for your Delusion. At one point he gains the upper hand in the fight and slams you back into a tree. You let out a gasp as the wind gets knocked out of you. "Ooh, I like it when you treat me rough." You taunt.

"Shut up!" He practically screams at you. "Shut up and tell me what you want with y/n?"

You bark out a laugh as you summon more energy from your Delusion. "I don't want them! I'm just here for you!" You shove him away with all your power and smile with unashamed glee as he trips and falls on his back, his claymore falling just out of his reach. You jump forward and pin him to the ground, your heart pounding in your chest. "Finally," you giggle, pinning his hands above his head as you fumble excitedly for your dagger. "After all this time, I finally have you and I'll get what the Abyss promised me."

He stares up at you wide eyed as you ready your dagger, but just as you're about to strike, you falter. "No…" You whisper as you notice his hood falling back, exposing a few strands of bright red hair. A hair color you have only ever seen on two people. "No, it can't be…." Dropping the dagger beside his head, you let go of his hands so you can rip off his mask. Your stomach drops as you stare down into the familiar face of your lifelong friend, Diluc Ragnivindr.

You're too shocked to notice that he's picked up a fist sized rock until he smashes it into your temple.

******

Diluc sighs in relief as the Fatui agent crumples to the forest floor beside him. For a minute he really thought this was going to be his last fight, but something about him had distracted the agent long enough for him to act. He sits up and turns to watch as the power from the Delusion leaves the agents body and they return to normal.

Curious as to who almost took his life, Diluc reaches over and removes the agents mask only to fully understand the reaction they had to seeing him.

His world shatters around him as he stares down at the unconscious body of his friend. The friend he had some day hoped to make his partner.

He had been willing to kill the agent his was fighting to save y/n, completely unaware that was who was behind the mask the entire time. The thought made him sick to his stomach. Leaning over their limp body, Diluc checks for a pulse, letting out a huge sigh of relief when he found one. But the question now was what to do with them? He couldn't just leave them here in the woods of Wolvendom. But, now knowing that they were apparently working for both the Fatui and the Abyss, he couldn't just take them back to their house. He wasn't sure if he could trust y/n anymore. That thought broke his heart.

Not knowing what else to do, he grabs their cloak to put it back on them. Did they see me smell it? he thought, embarrassed, as he fastens it around their neck. Pulling the hood up and making sure the cloak covers their Fatui uniform, Diluc picks y/n up starts carrying them towards his house.

The whole walk back, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering to one comment y/n had made during the fight.

I like it when you treat me rough…

******

Your head pounds in tandem with your heart as you start to regain consciousness. You let out a groan and struggle to open your eyes. Everything is blurry and the room seems to be spinning, which makes your stomach turn. You close your eyes as you pitch forward, only to have something stop you. You open your eyes slightly to see that your arms are bound to a wooden chair. Kicking your legs in frustration, you realize they're also tied tight to the chair. You growl and struggle with them, only to moan and let your head droop as the pain in your head doubles and your stomach turns again. You feel a gentle hand on the back of your head and hear the soft command "Drink," as a cup gets pressed to your lips.

You smell the wine before you take a large gulp of the alcohol, then another. You quickly drain the glass, cursing yourself slightly. It could have been poisoned. But if your captor wanted you dead, you would be. So that raised the question of what they wanted. You tried to remember what you had happened to you when your captor stepped around you to sit the glass down on the table across from you, and all your memories came flooding back.

Diluc turns to you and leans back against the table. His face is sad as he looks down at you, restrained in the chair. He says nothing as the two of you stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Finally, he breaks. "Why?" He asks you, his voice cracking slightly.

"Diluc, I'm going to need a bit more clarification on what you want to know." You say bluntly. There's no reason to play dumb.

"I want to know the answer to everything. And please, don't lie to me anymore." That response was enough to drive a dagger into your cold, unfeeling heart.

"I'm a Fatui spy. My parents were born in Snezhnaya, technically I was too but the story was that I was born while they were on a business trip. My family has been spies for the Tsaritsa for generations."

"So that's how you got this?" Your stomach drops and your eyes widen as he holds up your Delusion. Your head was in so much pain that you didn't even notice it was gone.

"Diluc, please, give that back." You plead, straining against the binds holding you to the chair. You don't have a Vision that you could use to help you break free, and without your Delusion you were powerless. "Please!" He stares at you, his normally stoic face clearly showing his shock. "That was gifted to me directly from the Tsaritsa herself!" You explain, straining more.

"Finish explaining, then we'll see." He says, dropping his hand to his side. Your eyes follow your precious Delusion hungrily, longing to hold it in your hands again.

"We've lived in Mondstadt for years, no one knows we're not native to the region. We work in secret, I don't associate at all with the other agents who reside in the city." Your speech is strained and choppy as you watch his long fingers fiddle with your Delusion.

"So you've always been lying to me?" He says, his voice low.

Your eyes jump to his for the first time. "Not maliciously," you explain. "You weren't supposed to find out, Luc. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Then what about tonight!" He barks.

"I didn't know it was you! How would I?" You cry out. "You told me yourself that you didn't believe the stories of the Darknight Hero! I had no information to go off of! All I knew was the Abyss made me an incredible offer if I would take out the one person in Mondstadt who was hindering their plans!"

"What did they offer you?" He asks, making your eyes drop back down to your beautiful blue Delusion.

"More power…" You whispered.

"More power?"

"Yes! They swore they would add Abyssal energy to my Delusion to make me even more powerful! How could I say no?"

"Y/n…" He whispers sadly. Your eyes are still on your Delusion, so you can't see the heartbreak and pity on his face as he watches you staring hungrily at it. You look like an addict eyeing up your next fix. "Look at me," he requests. When you don't, he steps over and grabs you by the chin, forcing you to look up at him. The angle and position is incredibly suggestive, and both of you are very aware of that. You can't help the flutter you feel in your chest as he forces you around. He has to clear his throat before he continues. "I know the 'you' I've always known is not who I thought, but I know you're strong. You don't need this thing."

"Yes I do, Luc! You don't understand!"

"Trust me, I do. I used a Delusion myself for quite a while. I know how they wear you down, sap you of your emotions, make you dependent on them. I can’t imagine how you must feel, having used one for so long…” he trails off sadly, still looking down at you.

“I hardly feel anything, Diluc,” you confess softly. “I hate saying this, but… fighting you, that was the most emotion I’ve felt in a long time.” Your eyes are downcast and you miss the faint flush he gets as he once again recalls your comment during the fight. “But you’ve always had a habit of making me feel things.” You say the last part softly, half hoping he doesn’t hear you. But he did.

Releasing your chin, he takes a few steps back from you. “Y/n, I’m not just doing this for the safety of Mondstadt. I’m also doing this because I love you.” You don’t even have time to react to his statement before you’re screaming in horror as he drops your beloved Delusion to the floor and crushes it under his boot.

You scream out in agony. You curse Diluc. You throw so much of a fit that you end up tipping the chair over onto its side. He lets you there, on the floor and crying out in misery until your wails have turned into quiet sobs and your tears have mostly dried. Gently, he grabs the chair and sits you back upright. “How could you do that to me, Luc? You say you love me, but then you do that? And you have the nerve to call me a liar!” You spit at him.

“I told you I did it because I love you,” he says, crouching down in front of you and gently cupping your face as you glare at him. “Besides, you don’t need that thing to feel…” he trails off, seeming almost embarrassed. “Let me make you feel.” He finishes brazenly before pushing his mouth against yours.

You’re shocked for a few moments as his mouth moves against yours, but you come to your senses quickly and bite his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He jerks back from you, blood trickling down his chin as you lick it off of your lips. “You bastard,” you growl. You never thought you’d say this, but you hate him. You want to punch him. You want to slam him against the wall. You want him to pin you underneath his warm, heavy body as he fucks you senseless.

You want him.

He must see that realization on your face because he’s back, gripping your chin in his hand as he roughly kisses you. You suck on his lip, tasting the blood that you drew. His tongue darts into your mouth, tasting you. You bite that too, but not as hard. He moans into your mouth as his hands travel down to the bindings holding you in the chair. You shiver as he lightly runs his fingers down your arm. He pulls back from you and whispers huskily in your ear “I’d undo these ropes, but how do I know I can trust you?”

You pick up on what he’s doing and play along. “You don’t, but I guess that’s a risk you’re going to have to take,” you purr back. He growls softly and uses the heat from his vision to snap the ropes binding your arms and legs. The second you're free, you’re on your feet and pushing him towards the nearest wall. Concussion be damned, you were having Diluc.

He gasps as his back hits the wall, and he quickly follows it with a moan as you start sucking on his neck. His large hand grips the back of your head, holding you there for several moments before pulling you back. His mouth is back on yours and in an instant he has you pinned against the wall. His hands squeeze your hips, so you jump and wrap your legs around him. He presses his body against yours as he pins your hands above your head. The two of you are gasping and panting, small moans escaping the two of you as your bodies move against each other. Releasing your hands, he wraps his arms around you and walks to the table, laying you down on it. "What am I going to do with you?" His voice is deep and husky, his eyes full of lust as he stares down at you.

"Hopefully punish me," you say, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him down to you. In all the years you've known Diluc, he'd always been stoic and deliberate. A man full of resolve and self control. But that night, you saw a different side to him. Animalistic and wild. One could even say feral. You loved being the reason he lost all control. It gave you a feeling of power that your Delusion never could.

[burningthemidnightcityoil]

The biggest thing I find disappointing about any of the "official" sequels to Homestuck, is that... They don't really expand on Homestuck.

They simply add problems, that weren't needed, and are churning out solutions, that didn't matter--because the problems in the first place weren't needed.

My idea of a Homestuck sequel would be to have the world-build, because now we have that idea of the "world" and how it "works", but start from scratch (haha).

Make new characters in classes and aspects we haven't seen yet, or didn't see enough of (Mages and Thieves and Sylphs, oh my, Dooms and Rages and Blood, oh my!). Make new characters that have new remixes of classes and aspects we already know of.

Make new inner memes and repetitions, Homestuck is nothing if not repetitious. Have some actual fun with your sequel. I can't imagine the current stuff being Fun, not with what's its building from.

Say something new in the story, or say something old in a different way. HS is all about ridiculous bullshit all the time anyway, just as much so as its about serious shit all the time always.

Personally, I'd rather not go through SBURB again, I'd want to see how HS works without SBURB being the main focus--or maybe have a SBURB that is completely off its knocker and is impossible to play, as its background.

( Earth C is a perfect place for that )

There are, of course, several things that can be expanded and thoroughly explored that HS leaves open.

Throughout your life, you are going to have more than one class or aspect. I know huh? Its a thing we've seen out of the Adults that pop up in HS--they always have at least one more class and aspect, and are capable of performing those classes and aspects successfully. And this even falls in line with typical character dynamics on writing and comprehension. A 3D character changes depending on what situation they're in and who they're with. And with such, we can assume that HS is about your Core unchangable Classpect--Who are you that is you?-- But now, let's have another!

All your Lives are Connected Yeah yeah sounds like Utilma-Self horseshit. But there is clearly a thing to explore here; you are connected to yourself, throughout time and space. So even if one of yourself dies, it'll still live on as long as you exist.

The Afterlife Okay, we've seen hints, maybe, but now I kinda want to know how this works without Dream Bubbles. Dream Bubbles are a SBURB thing, and even then, its only sessions that touch on the Troll Session (Like the human one), who get access. And even then... its only for Players. Everything else is a recorded memory.

What's a universe like when it has its Gods? Its clear that when SBURB makes a universe, its generally intended that its players become its gods of that universe. So... what happens when that does actually happen, and not some tomfuckery coming along.

And of course, this is just the HOmestuck World-Build stuff.

You can tell so many different stories from this, from any variety, from silly to serious (And in HS's case--both). Hell, take someone off the street, throw them randomly at this, see how they react, that sort of deal.

And it can be done, without slogging HS's characters through the murk.

If the intention of the current "sequels" were to make things tired, dragged out, and not even fun anymore... Yeah congrats. The story worked as intended. So much so that I'm not even going to keep up with it.

That's how tired its made me.

ADDENDUM:

A lot of people, found comfort, relation, and personal importance, in HS's characters.

And what was done to several character, was a horrible, disgusting, and terrible thing to do, to characters that people found comfortable, relatable and personally important.

And How it was handled afterwards, whether it was staged or not, was A Shit Way to Handle It.

Occurring at a time and place in history where you Should Not Have Fucked That Up.

Because of this, I am not going to accept the "Sequels". I'm not going to accept any justification for the "Sequels".

As far as I'm concerned, Homestuck ended with Homestuck, a silly ridiculous serious webcomic that lasted a very long time and long after the time period it was in (To a point where nobody remembers what early '10s / late 00's internet was like), no publication attached.

[eponastory]

Snippet from 'Blue Butterflies in Winter'

His head hurts and so does his left side. 

He's felt worse, but it's the searing pain splitting through him that brings him to the waking world. The sound of metal tapping against metal becomes annoying after a few moments, but he focuses on it. Scraping sounds and the smell of jet fuel with a hint of fresh pine in the cold air. Snow is falling on his face as he opens his eyes to see the white sky above him and the broken branches of northern pine trees. His fingers are numb as he searches his body for what is causing the pain. 

He gasps out when he feels a metal rod sticking through his left side. Warm blood is slowly leaking from the wound, making him feel slightly concerned that maybe this was his end. Not that he would mind because there is peace in death and going back to the Hell he was from is the last thing he wants. He knows not to remove the rod because he could injure himself even more, but also, he feels metal at his back. 

The fuselage fell apart as the plane plummeted. He barely remembers flying through the air before his back slams into the debris. That would explain the blow to the back of his head and the lack of memory. All he knows is that his body hurts and he has to move before he freezes to death. Which would be ironic. 

It's going to hurt, but he has to do it or he won't survive. 

Something about this feels familiar as he looks back up at the sky. He’s been in this position before, only there was no one there to drag him out. When he looks at his left arm, he sees it's still the same metal it's always been. There are some minor blemishes, though it could use some repair. The arm doesn't stop him from feeling the pain at every move, however like the good soldier he is, he pushes through. He has too. 

He breathes in before bracing himself for what comes next as he presses his palms against the fuselage behind him. He has to lift himself straight off of the rod which is sticking out at least six inches from his skin. With heavy breaths in succession, he pushes himself up, bending his knees to help lift his body. The feeling of the rod sliding against his organs and muscle burn more than anything he's ever felt. The painful yell in his ears and the tears in his eyes seem so far away as he begins to disassociate. He's almost there as he clenches his jaw together to hold in the pain as he hears the suction of the rod exiting the flesh in his back. He lets out a breath as he falls onto his uninjured side with a heavy grunt. 

Blood is leaking out of him a little more, but not enough to have him thinking he's going to bleed out. He presses his metal hand to the wound before rolling over onto his hands and knees. It takes effort, yet he is able to get onto his feet after a few moments and that's when he sees the extent of the damage. 

The plane disintegrated into pieces before it even fell to the earth. There was a trail of debris and bodies that went east towards the mountains, making it almost impossible to tell who survived. That had been the mission, right? To make sure the target didn't survive? 

No. The target had been killed long before the plane went down. The mission was… 

The woman. 

He picked up his pace through the forest following the path of debris in the trees and snow. Even if he was severely injured, he was still able to keep going, checking each body he came across. There were only twelve so far, all of them agents working for HYDRA and less of a problem for him to deal with. 

That was until he found who he was looking for. She laid there in the snow pinned down underneath a row of seats with her dark blond hair tangled around her face. She was paler than before the plane practically exploded, making her appear to be very much dead. For a moment there was a little bit of urgency in his actions as he lifted the seats off of her, feeling the stab of pain run through him again. A fresh gush of blood came from the sight of his previous impalement as he got on his knees next to her to check for a pulse. 

It was bounding. 

Some relief coursed through him before he fell over next to her, his eyes going back to the sky as he watched the snow fall. He feels cold and he's alright with this. It means he can rest. 

Until he hears her voice, but he doesn't understand what she is saying because he is slowly falling into an abyss. The edges of his world are fading to black as he feels soft fingertips on his forehead and then everything calms. The pain fades away into numbness as light blue invades his mind. 

It will be okay. Just hold on. 

Yes, because falling out of an airplane as it's going down is so fun... Or rather, being pushed out, but he doesn't remember that.

[razieltwelve]

Gotta Eat Them All (Final Rose x Bleach)

Diana was in paradise.

Since she had an actual, functional moral compass, she couldn't go around eating everybody. Admittedly, she was well aware that her rebirth as a Hollow had led to some... shifts in that moral compass, but she wasn't about to go around eating people indiscriminately.

But now?

Oh, yes. This was a wonderful day.

So many evil Quincy with so many interesting powers.

And eating them wasn't even bad.

She was eating them to help Soul Society. After all, she was friends with the Kurosaki family, right? It would actually be bad if she didn't go around eating their enemies. If anything, she was doing what any morally upstanding citizen would do.

And, yeah, maybe the average Quincy tasted amazing, but that was just a pleasant side benefit.

Diana ripped through a group of Quincy as she sensed her own forces move throughout Soul Society. The only reason the Hollows weren't being attacked was the message being loudly broadcast throughout the entire area. That, and the Soul Reapers were in enough trouble. Half of Soul Society had been demolished, and the other half was locked in battle. Picking a fight with Diana's forces would have been suicide.

The Quincy died before they'd even realised what had happened, and a slew of tendrils burst out of Diana's back to yank chunks of flesh into the gaping maw that had formed between her shoulder blades. It was entirely unnecessary. She could have simply absorbed the necessary information directly, but shock, fear, and awe were powerful weapons in a fight.

And the Quincy were terrified of her.

Several of their elites rushed toward her with wings of light trailing behind them. They died the second they reached her, torn to shreds by barbed stingers that popped out of portals, stabbed through their defences, and then yanked them closer, so Diana could take a bite out of them herself.

Fascinating.

Her Semblance was definitely in its happy place. Her eyes tracked a Quincy whose own explosions had been knocked back into her as the dog-headed... or not dog-headed captain's bankai changed form. Curiously, she was being approached by some of her own allies who were...

Ah.

Diana blurred.

Quincy died.

And then she loomed over the downed Quincy. The woman looked up at her in utter terror that may or may not have had something to do with the fact that Diana was holding the severed head of a Quincy in one hand and a mangled, broken corpse in the other. Almost idly, Diana tossed both over her shoulder, allowing her tentacles and back-mouth to very noisily devour them.

"Some weird form of zombie creation... very nice." Diana took careful note of the last power she'd absorbed. It was actually not all that impressive on its own, but Ragnarok was already repurposing it and improving it. "What about you?"

Diana knelt down and patted the Quincy on the head. That was enough for Ragnarok to grasp the abilities of the other woman.

"Hmm... I suppose that's a very good ability to have if you enjoy property damage." Diana's smile widened impossibly wide, and she patted the Quincy on the head again. "Be a good girl and stay right here."

"Are... are you going to eat me?"

"No." Diana's eyes gleamed. "I'm not going to eat you, Bambietta. In fact... seeing as how you were about to be betrayed by your own allies... I was thinking about recruiting you."

"I..."

"At the very least, I can't kill ALL the Quincy. You guys do occupy an important niche in the food chain." Diana cackled. "Although you really should remember who's at the top. Hint. It's not you or the Soul Reapers." Diana stood and strolled toward the battle raging at the centre of Soul Society. "It's me."

X X X

Ichigo crashed through a building and slid through the rubble before coming to a stop against a half-toppled wall.

Those bastards!

He didn't know who these Quincy were, but they'd come into Soul Society and started slaughtering Soul Reapers left and right. He'd rushed over the second he'd heard about it. He had friends in Soul Society, and he'd be damned before he let anything happen to them.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of Quincy, and although some of them weren't that strong, the elites... they were tough. Yamamoto was locked in combat with the Quincy leader, and the battle was devastating the centre of Soul Society. If it kept escalating, Ichigo wasn't sure if there would be anything left. He needed to get over there and help. He was certain that between the two of them, he and the captain commander could beat Yhwach.

But Yhwach's elites had gotten in the way - a handful of them - and Ichigo was getting his ass kicked. He spat out some blood and got to his feet. One on one, he could take them, maybe not quickly, but eventually. All together? He was losing, and even with all the extra training he'd been doing, it wasn't enough.

Wait.

Even after Aizen had gotten eaten, Diana and the others had put him through absolutely hellish training. He'd mastered his Hollow powers and even gotten a strong grasp of his Quincy powers. Hell, he'd practically died a few times sparring against Ulquiorra and the other higher-ranked minions. His mom had been pissed, and Diana had been forced to flee his house after his mom had gone after her with a rolled up newspaper.

But Ichigo hadn't cared.

He'd gotten stronger... way stronger. And if getting the crap kicked out of him was what he needed to do to have the strength to protect his friends, then that's what he'd do. Besides, he trusted Diana. The Hollow might be a little crazy, but she'd always done right by him and his family. It was also hard to think of her as some kind of evil mastermind when she owned the largest toy and entertainment company in the world and spent most of her money trying to make things better for everybody.

"Surrender," one of the Quincy said. "You -"

And then a clawed hand burst out of his chest. The Quincy gagged on his own blood for a second before a second hand ripped his body apart. The two halves were caught by tendrils of flesh and then consumed.

Ichigo grinned bloodily. Oh, these guys were so screwed now. "You took your damn time," he growled. "And did you have to eat him? That's why people think you're evil."

Diana smirked, and her smirk was wider than any smirk should be. "You know me, twerp. I'm hungry all the time, and these Quincy taste pretty good."

"Who are you?" one of the others growled. The Quincy had retreated, and Ichigo moved forward to stand next to Diana.

"We need to beat these guys quickly," Ichigo said. "Their leader is really strong."

"Hmm..." Diana rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Is that so? Well... let's not waste any time then." She turned her attention back to the Quincy. "Anyway... if you want to know who I am, well, let me put it this way. I'm a very hungry customer... and all of you are the buffet."

Diana lunged forward, and Ichigo rushed after her.

"Damn it!" Ichigo shouted. "Are you really going to eat all these guys?"

X X X

Author's Notes

Ichigo has a totally skewed perspective on Diana. She's basically that cool aunt who drops by semi-regularly and hangs out and teaches him interesting stuff. He hasn't really put together the fact that to be the ruler of Hueco Mundo, Diana has to be the biggest, scariest Hollow there is. He sees his mother drive her off with a rolled up newspaper and forgets that Diana is so powerful that no Soul Reaper other than Yamamoto would even think of trying to fight her. The rest would just flee.

His time training in Hueco Mundo has also given him a bit of a weird perspective of the others. Harribel is Diana's minion-in-chief and arguably the second most powerful Hollow in existence by this point. Thanks to Diana's scheming, power-levelling, and modification, she is orders of magnitude more power than her canon counterpart. Ichigo just thinks of her as Diana's beleaguered second-in-command who has to put up with all her craziness and help run things. Sure, she was one of the people who helped train him and she'd crazily strong, but he has stronger memories of her brandishing paperwork at Diana and trying to strangle her after her latest scheme.

Likewise, Ulquiorra is that quiet, murderous dude who helps Ichigo train while Grimmjow is that other guy who helps Ichigo train and is maybe a bit bloodthirsty but otherwise good company. There are others, of course, but Ichigo views them fairly positively since they've never given him any trouble and helped him get stronger.

Due to all of this, Ichigo actually finds it a bit weird that when Rukia meets his 'Hollow Aunt' for the first time, she basically passes out with terror when Diana shows up. From Ichigo's description, Rukia had expected a much weaker but still quirky Hollow. What she got instead was Diana. When Rukia realised that Diana could completely alter and camouflage her spiritual power, she had nightmares for weeks.

That's Diana. To Ichigo, she's the cool aunt. To the rest of Soul Society, she's basically an eldritch horror, the stuff nightmares are made of.

Diana knows all of this and thinks it is hilarious.

[zipzin]

The Law of Entropy - Chapter 5: A Series of Bad Decisions, a Memoir by Rosita Bustillos (Also on Ao3)

Warning: For Homophobia, typical for season 1

“I’m back!” A young man stood in the doorway of Shorty’s and raised his arms like a conquering hero. Rosita frowned while several of the guys roared when they saw him.

“Champ!” One of them called and Rosita felt her eyebrows raise. She spun around to see Waverly looking a mix between furious and trying to figure out the closest hiding spot.

“That’s Champ?” Rosita said. He was relatively attractive, she supposed. His clothes, well, they were a travesty, but Rosita was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’d just arrived? What did he do again? And at least he left Purgatory, that was more than most of the idiots here could say.

“Ugh.” Waverly sighed. “I can’t believe he’s back.”

They both just watched as he chugged a pitcher of beer to the roars of the guys around him. 

“He seems,” Rosita frowned, “Fast?”

Waverly groaned. “I can’t even deny it.”

Rosita chuckled, “And how long did you date him?”

“On and off for like four years. Mostly on.”

“Waverly!”

“Hey! I,” Waverly sighed, “Okay, I had no excuse. But come on, it’s Purgatory, who else was I supposed to date.”

“I don’t know, anyone else?” Rosita shrugged. “No one? Or I don’t know, a hot deputy?”

“Oh, give me a break!” Waverly said, but she was smiling, and Rosita knew that she’d lost her for a bit to daydreaming. This woman was impossible.

She kept an eye on Champ and the group of boys (because it was a little generous to call any of them men) as they partied, and went over all the information from Waverly that she had.

He was a terrible boyfriend, actually stupid (okay, that bit was originally from Wynonna), but easy and willing to come back. He was currently doing a rodeo circuit (which Rosita assumed was now back in Purgatory) and he’d cheated on Waverly a half dozen times that Waverly knew about.

So she couldn’t say she liked him.

Not that she’d met him. He hadn’t approached the bar, but she wasn’t sure if that was just because he was distracted by his friends or discouraged by Rosita’s dark glare anytime he looked over. If she had to guess, she’d assume the former. Mostly because he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who could take a hint.

Rosita watched Waverly deliver drinks to the group next to Champ’s. He wandered over and slid his hand around Waverly’s waist whispering something into Waverly’s ear. Rosita had seen enough.

“Just like old times!” He grinned as Rosita approached. Waverly was unsuccessfully trying to extricate herself without him spilling any beer on herself.

“Champ.” She sighed.

Rosita grabbed one of Champ’s shoulders, “Hands off.”

“Huh?” Champ frowned and ogled her chest. If it wasn’t so disgusting she might have been impressed with his multi-tasking, “I’m speaking with my girl, it’s not any of your business.”

“She’s not your girl.” Rosita crossed her arms as Waverly finally freed herself. “She’s mine.”

“Yours?” he sputtered. “She can’t be, you're both girls.”

Rosita waited for him to get it.

“I’m dating Rosita,” Waverly chimed in when the silence was bordering on awkward.

“What?” He spit out as he blinked between the two of them. “Babe! That’s so hot! I’m totally fine with watching.”

“Ew!” Rosita and Waverly gave identical cries.

“Oh, I can make it a party, I know women.” He said proudly and winked back at his friends. “It wouldn’t be the first time, if you catch my drift. I can help fill that void you’re missing.”

“Get out!” Rosita said and pointed at the group. Champ opened his mouth to argue, but just rolled his eyes instead.

“When you’re done with this frigid bitch, you know where to find me.”

“Champ!” Waverly yelled, but he was gone. “I’m so sorry.”

“Waverly-”

“All those things that he said.”

“Hey,” Rosita frowned as she guided Waverly back to the bar. “You didn’t make him say those things. And you aren’t dating him, you aren’t responsible.”

“I know Champ’s an asshole,” Waverly started after her third drink. It was a rare weekend night that they both had off and, with no school tomorrow, Rosita was well on her way to getting sloshed. She’d thought about inviting Wynonna, but Waverly had announced when she arrived that she told Nicole it was a date. Nicole had apparently given no reaction (Rosita was pretty sure Waverly wouldn’t know a reaction if it hit her in the face). Even if Waverly wasn’t here, Rosita still wasn’t sure if Wynonna would accept. God she wanted her to accept and there to be less drinking and more, her mind trailed off as Waverly spoke again, “But at least he wants me.”

“Girl, no.” Rosita snorted into her drink.

“What!? It’s not like he’s bad at sex. Sure, did I come everytime? No. But it’s not like it only happens on a blue moon or something. And he stopped trying to pressure me to have sex without a condom after high school.”

Rosita mimed puking, “Everything you said was gross. I don’t want to think about you having sex with Champ.”

“I’m lonely,” Waverly whined, “and I need-”

“I’m going to stop you right there to prevent you from making me finish the bottle. For the last time,” Rosita knew it wouldn’t be the last time, “Nicole likes you! And she wouldn’t keep you hanging in the sex department. Ever. You just have to say something.”

“She’s dating my sister!”

Rosita batted the thought away, “Semantics.”

The alcohol was running through her a little quicker than she thought.

“So, what? She’d cheat on my sister with me? And that’s supposed to make me feel better!?”

“No, you tell her you like her and she’ll break up with Wynonna. Trust me.”

“Okay,” Waverly scoffed.

“Seriously.”

Waverly drowned the rest of her drink and Rosita didn’t hesitate to pour her another. “Whatever, Champ has at least made his interest known and-”

“Waverly,” Rosita couldn’t tell if she’d started slurring her words, “You are not going from me to him.”

“But we aren’t really dating.”

“Not in the eyes of Purgatory. I’m not losing you to that roided up rodeo clown. That’s absurd.” She gestured down at her body, “Who’d give up this for him?”

Wavelry snorted, “But I-”

“If you really want a hookup, then find someone at school. You don’t need Purgatory. You’ve never needed Purgatory,” Rosita patted her leg.

“But,” Rosita was concerned when she realized that Waverly’s eyes had started watering, “Where would I be without Purgatory? Who would I be?”

“Um,” Rosita finished her drink.

“I wouldn’t be Wavelry Earp,” She cried, “I’d just be one in a million!”

“Woah,” Rosita blinked, “You would still be Waverly Earp. And you’d never be one in a million. You are one of a kind.” Rosita clasped Waverly’s arm, “You hear me Earp! You’re better than everyone out there.”

“I don’t think everyon-”

“Everyone!” Rosita raised her empty glass. “Toast with me!”

Waverly’s tears were streaking down her face, but she had a big grin, “Okay, okay!” She said and raised her glass. “To me!”

Rosita rammed her glass against, so hard she almost dropped it, “To Waverly! The best damn person I know!”

Waverly cuddled into her, “Thanks Rosita.”

“And if she just propositioned Nicole, all her problems would go away.”

“Rosita!”

Rosita smiled at her and shrugged, “I’m right.”

Waverly huffed and took a long drink, “I’m having a good moment, okay? Do we have to talk about Nicole again?”

Rosita nodded as she poured herself another, “No, you’re right, we’re celebrating you. And how you’re going to kick this semester’s ass!”

“Rosita! Now I’m thinking about school,” she cried.

“Drink up,” Rosita used her finger to tip Wavelry’s glass to her mouth, “You’ll forget soon.”

Waverly laughed and Rosita leaned against the couch. Sure, Purgatory was a pain in the ass sometimes, but she really wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Wynonna sipped coffee and sat in the same place that Waverly did 36 hours ago as they discussed their, well, Wynonna called them schemes and Rosita couldn’t think of a better word. Yet.

“I don’t know why people think you’re the dumpster fire,” Rosita said, “Your sister is a mess.”

“Well, to be fair, I did get institutionalized as a child.” Wynonna said, “But continue, I’d like to hear this.”

Rosita found herself momentarily lost for words, “Well, okay, um, yeah. She comes over here, because we actually both have a weekend night off, so we have a ‘date’ and you know that Champ’s back in town?” Wynonna nods. “Right, well, I mean, strike one for Waverly. That, man, is man too generous? He’s like a teenager that still hasn’t grown up, anyway he obviously hit on her at Shorty’s, and then when I was like back off, he’s like oh you want a threesome?” They both gagged, “And she tells me she dated him for years?

“But the worst part is later Waverly, as usual, is bemoaning her whatever with Nicole. She’s all Nicole didn’t react when I said I was having a date with Rosita,” Rosita rolled her eyes. 

“Nicole texted me so many times,” Wynonna sighed.

Rosita laughed and continued, “So she’s like maybe I should just get back together with Champ. At least he wants me. And I’m like, what the fuck? That creep?”

“Did she actually say that?” Wynonna asked.

“Yes! I had to convince her that was a horrible idea. She was all like I’m lonely and want a fuck and, I’m like we go to a university! There are plenty of eligible men and women there. Like you do not need to stoop that low.”

Wynonna laughed.

“And the worst part was what actually convinced her, was me insisting that she could not do that to my reputation!” Wynonna snorted. “Oh babygirl is a mess.”

“She’s more than a mess.” Rosita said, “She’s catastrophic.”

“To be fair, Champ was her first boyfriend. So he’s a known entity.”

“Wynonna!”

Wynonna burst out laughing. “Yeah I couldn’t say that with a straight face. Oh Waverly.”

“This is your fault.” Rosita said. “If you hadn’t decided to date Nicole she would not be this, maudlin or whatever the fuck she is.”

“And I’m sorry about that. But I salvaged you getting found out so, what’s the real issue?”

“You! Still you! You are the one who almost made her find out in the first place!” Rosita said and took a long sip of coffee.

“Let me make it up to you.” Wynonna smirked.

“Oh?”

Wynonna shifted closer to her on the couch, and put both their coffee mugs down. She lifted an eyebrow, and Rosita merely lifted hers back in response. She would not be this easy. Wynonna grabbed her hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. She looked up at her through her eyelashes with an impish grin on her face.

Rosita frowned at her, “Is this all you got?”

Wynonna shifted and trailed kisses up Rosita’s arm, and up her neck, nipping at it. Rosita hated the little puff of air Wynonna coaxed out of her as she sucked harder. Wynonna leaned back a little, licking over the spot to cool the skin before nipping at Rosita’s jaw.

Rosita couldn’t help herself and let out a whimpered, “Kiss me already.”

“With pleasure.”

Wynonna pushed her back against the couch and captured her lips with hers, one hand coming up to caress Rosita’s cheek. Rosita felt her breath being stolen away, with each press of Wynonna’s lips, her body exploding with each touch.

“Does that make up for it?”

“Make up for what?” Rosita blinked open her eyes, feeling a little dazed.

“For fake dating Nicole.”

Rosita felt her breath returning to her, “Not quite.”

Wynonna leaned back in.

Rosita vaguely registered people walking through the door at Shorty’s. It was a busy Friday night and she barely had time for anything but making drinks and sending them out. When she did look up and see that it was Champ, she didn’t even bother to hold back a scowl.

In the week that he’d been here, she’d really started to hate him. He was rude, half the time he’d break something, and he would irritatingly flirt with anything that had boobs. Rosita had to call a Deputy twice when he got way too drunk. She wasn’t sure she was happy or sad it hadn’t been Nicole to escort him away.

She’d questioned Waverly more than once what she’d seen in him. The only answer she got was the reassurance that she would not restart anything with him.

Rosita wanted to trust her.

He shot her a look, well her boobs a look, and she wasn’t sure if it was a result of Waverly not being there yet or her throwing him out last night. She ignored him as he approached the bar, happy that she had a million drinks she needed to make right now. 

She’s not entirely sure how rodeos work, but it has to leave soon? Right? Please god, she begged silently. She had been having a recurring nightmare that Champ would get kicked out of it and never leave.

It was not what she wanted to be dreaming about.

She shivered and went back to pouring drinks, nodding to the waitress on shift who went to deliver the next batch.

“Hey!” So, Champ had gotten tired of waiting.

“What can I get you?” Rosita didn’t bother to smile.

“You can get your hands off of Waverly.”

Rosita blinked, did he really just say that?

“You’re just some experiment for her. She’s not a dyke like you are.”

Rosita would have rolled her eyes if it wouldn’t make it harder to get this stupid lime on the glass. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I haven’t even had a drink!”

Rosita pointed at the sign hanging by the bar that said, We have the right to refuse service to anyone. “You’re an asshole and are harassing the staff. Get out.”

“No! You can’t make me.”

“Is there a problem here?”

They both looked up to see Nicole, not wearing her uniform, frowning at Champ with her face set in a hard line and back straight, enhancing her height by several inches.

“No-”

“Yes,” Rosita cut off Champ, “He’s harassing the staff, he needs to go.”

“Harassing! You’re harassing me!”

His loud protests had attracted the attention of half the bar. 

Nicole nodded and put a hand on Champ’s shoulder, “It’s time to go.”

He flung it off. “No! What the hell?! I haven’t done anything!”

In one swift movement, Nicole put him in some sort of armlock, her arm stretching behind his back and turned him around to walk to the door. She gave a wink to Rosita and started to march him out.

Well.

Damn.

Was it hot in here?

She watched Nicole swagger out, and Rosita could not blame Waverly at all. Well she could, the fact Waverly hadn’t said or done anything, but fuck. Nicole was hot.

“Of course!” Champ yelled, trying to twist out of Nicole’s hold and incapable of not doing anything other than make a scene, “You get the other fag to help you! Waverly isn’t like you!”

He’d missed the door opening in his yelling and Waverly, about to start her shift, stared at Champ in disbelief. She opened and closed her mouth several times.

“Champ! What is your problem?” She yelled.

“Waverly,” His face turned pale, “I’m, I’m just telling the truth I-” He stopped as Waverly stormed forward. Rosita almost backed away at the thunderous look on Waverly’s face, but stood frozen as Waverly grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her forward over the bar.

Okay, they were doing this.

The kiss was, well it was nice, demanding lips and a little wet and when they broke away Waverly smirked up at her. Rosita looked behind her, Nicole’s arms were empty and there was just silent devastation on her face.

Oh right.

Fuck.

“Boobs McGee!” Wynonna greeted over the din of Shorty’s, eyeing Rosita up in a way that- no she was not blushing, Rosita turned away.

“Hi Wynonna.” Rosita sighed. Why did this woman get to have such an effect on her?

And now she’s thinking about last night. Great. “I’m off in five.”

“Really?” Wynonna stared around the busy bar. “Don’t you usually close?”

Rosita nodded and then handed Wynonna a tumbler of whiskey. “Rebecca needed the extra shift.” She nodded at the other bartender beside Waverly. “So I get off early.”

“Well it’s my lucky night.” Wynonna smirked and then walked over to Doc at a nearby booth. Rosita watched her for a moment and then turned around at the urging of Jimmy to fill him up another beer.

He waggled his eyebrows at her and Rosita rolled her eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Not that she really had one herself.

Wynonna had kept coming over, and then instead of Rosita’s couch, they’d found themselves on her bed. They hadn’t talked about it, and Rosita wasn’t even sure what she would say.

She liked it.

Wynonna was fun and had no issues leaving her satisfied. She’d tried to imagine what a future would look like (fuck you Jeremy), but her brain got stuck everytime because Wynonna didn’t do long term. She never had.

Rosita had seen her flirtations with Doc and Dolls from her vantage point at the bar. They weren’t exes, they were, well whatever Rosita was. Would be. And it was fine, because she didn’t even know if she wanted anything more.

She finished the last few drinks and with a smile clocked out giving a wave to Waverly and Rebecca before wandering over to the booth to sit next to Wynonna.

“Rosita,” Wynonna called, “Doc was just telling me a very curious thing.”

“Oh no.”

“Miss Rosita,” Doc started, “I was just informing her of the town gossip that occurred in this very place not hours ago.” Sometimes she was really embarrassed she’d ever slept with him.

“Ah yes,” Rosita said, as she narrowed her eyes, “Champ did get kicked out.”

“And you and Waverly had quite the romantic kiss.”

Wynonna waggled her eyebrows at Rosita. “We are dating after all.” Rosita said.

Doc nodded, though there seemed to be a spark of amusement in his eyes. Rosita narrowed her own, had Wynonna told him? Did the entire bar know besides Nicole and Waverly?

Probably.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Doc said, “I have spotted some card players.”

They waved him off and Wynonna nodded to the pool tables where Nicole appeared to be hustling some tourists. Her face was etched into a deep scowl. She barely softened when Waverly came to her side and handed her a drink, lingering, and entirely unnecessarily touching Nicole’s arm.

“Look at what you did.” Wynonna sighed.

“What I did!” Rosita laughed, “For the record, Waverly was the one who kissed me. And you’re her girlfriend! You should be over there trying to cheer her up!”

Wynonna laughed and laughed and then leaned over to whisper into Rosita’s ear, “So?” She asked, “Which sister is the better kisser?” There was a sharp undercurrent of something new in her voice that had Rosita blinking at her. Was that? Jealousy?

“Well, I have to say Waverly,” Rosita said and couldn’t help the grin on her face as Wynonna scowled at her, a spark of hurt in her eyes, that had Rosita squeezing her thigh under the table, “Sadly, she’s in love with someone else so I think I can settle for the other.”

“Rosita,” Wynonna whined.

“I have heard that the other is quite satisfactory at other activities, and I have nothing to do tonight.”

“Is that so?” Wynonna smiled.

“My place is clean?” Rosita offered.

Wynonna downed the rest of her drink and stood, “Well then, what are we waiting for?”

That night, Rosita did admit, truthfully, that Wynonna was much better with her mouth.

Waverly slammed her books on the table causing both Rosita and Jeremy to jolt. “Waverly!” Jeremy said, “We are in a library.”

She ignored him. “I’m calling it.”

“What?” Rosita asked.

“This thing. Between us. I can’t deal with it anymore.”

“We have a week.” Rosita said, “And then the month you promised me is over.”

“It’s too hard.” Waverly cried. “The other night, after, um, Champ,” Waverly coughed, “Nicole would barely look at me! She clearly hates me!”

“Why would she?” Jeremy asked, looking between the two of them.

They both ignored him. “And why might that be?” Rosita said.

“She clearly thinks that was inappropriate! Us kissing in the middle of Shorty’s! While you were working. And I was about to.”

“Oh.” Jeremy said and looked between them.

Rosita couldn’t make her mouth work. Was Waverly really this stupid? Yes, her brain screamed, absolutely. “You don’t think there could be any other reason?”

“What else could possibly explain that?”

“Waverly,” Jeremy tried, “Maybe she was jealous?”

Rosita could have kissed Jeremy, if not for the whole, he’s gay, she’s in, whatever she’s in.

“That’s absurd.” Waverly rolled her eyes. “It’s just,” She slumped down in a seat, “I can’t do this anymore Rosita. I need to try to move on, find someone actually interested.”

“Okay,” Rosita sighed.

She got two echoing replies of, “Okay?!”

“After finals.” Rosita said, “Which ends in a few days, we can go get breakfast and tell them we broke up and it was amicable.”

“Does it have to be after finals?” Waverly whined.

“That’s only like three days.” Jeremy added.

“Yes,” Rosita said, “I’m not dealing with Nicole and Wynonna trying to harass me for details or convince me I made a mistake or whatever until I’m done with this semester.” It was a weak excuse, considering she was currently sleeping with one of them and trying to figure out what the hell they were. And Nicole would probably rather shoot her then try to convince her to take Waverly back.

That morning, after Wynonna had kissed her goodbye (and when did they do soft kisses in Rosita’s entryway, anyway?), Rosita had the terrible realization that she wanted this to be more than just friends hooking up. Or whatever. It had left her sitting on her couch staring blankly at the wall as her heart dropped into her stomach until she had been a few minutes late. 

She wasn’t ready to give this up.

Which she knew, inevitably, once they were both free from this absurd situation, that she would have to.

Because Wynonna was only in it for the fun, not the relationship.

She was not dealing with it until she finished these stupid finals.

“Okay,” Waverly said, “And we can do it at the Homestead!” Waverly brightened, “That way we can both escape if it gets weird.”

“We are just telling them we broke up,” Rosita reminded her, “Not that this was a fake relationship.”

“Well, obviously.” Waverly nodded. “Wynonna would never let me live it down if she knew.”

Jeremy choked on his water and Rosita glared at him. She turned back to the chemical structure she had been trying to memorize as Waverly opened up one of her massive books.

Rosita bit down a sigh, they’d break up, and after the inevitable fizzling of her and Wynonna, maybe she’d even join Waverly in trying to actually date someone.

It didn’t stop the dread building in her stomach.

[theultrablog]

Pulp Storytime #79: Where women glow…and men plunder!

Don’t believe everything you write in the papers.

A hot December day down under.  Trudy Truman, ace reporter, is finally back in the newsroom of the Melbourne Age. Despite her award-winning stories, she’s alienated her coworkers by being a gallivanting rich girl. She wins them back though, taking point on a difficult mining story on the far side of the country. She may be haughty, but her sheer -enthusiasm- is charming. Uptown, freelance butler Aldous Bingen is charming without a hint of enthusiasm. The staff is moving in tremendous quantities of new furniture. There is nearly a snafu… Until Aldous spies a porter holding a floor plan upside down. The doorbell rings. The prodigal daughter is home for lunch.

"Trudy?"  "Bingen?" "Wait, did you invite Professor Callahan?" "I think he invited himself…"

Lunch was a spectacle. Bingen tried to cough and tut the prof into good behavior. Mr. and Mrs. Truman were eager to talk about Trudy's career… But did she have to do so much international travel? Thankfully, there was more moving to do. Trudy was suspicious when her father forbade her to cover Aussie mining. She put two and two together when she saw all the new crates. But prying would provoke an argument… And a reporter should have more than one source. That meant talking to daddy’s financial manager. He couldn’t tell her anything… Until she threatened to withdraw -her- funds. The money-man wheedled, cajoled, begged… In the waiting room, Aldous mapped a tasteful, tranquil garden. Callahan stared at the secretary, who stared back even harder. Soon, Trudy emerged, smiling like the cat who caught the canary. But she had something better: the name and financial records of daddy’s new, successful mine, all the way in Western Australia. The Alan Arani was currently with Jonesy in New Zealand, so the group had to rely on professor Callahan’s plane. Under the influence of Captain Ivanova, Callahan named his plane "The Spectre [of communism]". It could do the job, but it wasn’t the DC-3 the gang was used to. They soared above the sweltering city, into the freezing air. They make good time; Aldous was an able second pilot, so there was no need to break for a sleep break. They arrived in the quiet town of Woomera a few days later, and learned about the situation. The Big Bend mine was active again after years of bad luck. Not just active; it was impossibly productive. Jade, ruby, tanzanite, carnelian, gold and silver… All were there. And unfortunately for the miners, others had taken notice.  The gang woke up early, dressed down, and headed for the Bend. Itinerant laborers were blocking the tunnel! They were willing to work hard, any shift, to feed their families. The union miners weren’t going to go along with that. Violence was imminent. Aldous hustled to gather a vox populi report. Trudy name-dropped several famous Australian mining disasters… it didn’t matter how much enthusiasm they had, letting newbies in endangered everybody. The itinerants left, despite Winston’s grumbling towards communism. Trudy was thanked by the Big Bend’s foreman… who immediately recognized her as an outsider, and then as the eldest Truman daughter. There were plenty of reasons not to allow the boss's daughter, and a famous journalist, into the mine, but Tru had a baffle-gab answer for all of them. The rumors were true… The walls of the mine were studded with gems. But at the bottom level of the mine was a strange pink liquid, ankle deep. Honore de Balzac said:

Behind every great fortune lies a great crime.

Professor Winston Callahan knows a little of everything. Or maybe too much of everything, because he recognized what had happened. The gems were the scales of the rainbow serpent of aboriginal myth. The pink liquid was psychotropic blood, a link to the dreamtime. His attempt to subtly inform his companions led to a panic. None of them were adroit liars. They just barely held it together long enough to fool the foreman. 'Money was good, no problems here, gotta go, don’t tell Trudy’s dad she was here'. This was an ethical crisis. Trudy had already spent the newspaper's money to investigate the case. If she reported it as a hoax, any loose rumor would sink her career. And even if the workers kept quiet, someone'd notice if they all got houses and boats. Then again, the truth was just as bad. She had betrayed her father, attacked the family's pocketbook, and indirectly aided the exploitation and torture of a mythic creature. And doing nothing wasn’t possible… There was no proof that a kilometer-long serpent could be peeled forever. They had to move the serpent… But how? It wasn’t something that aeronautics or butlering could answer. There was one lead Trudy could follow up on…She knew of a shaman who could help them. But he lived in the outback. And they didn’t bring enough aviation fuel for a detour. They would have to drive. Journeying through Western Australia is hard. Hard navigationally; in 1935, it was largely unmapped. After a few hours in the wrong direction, Aldous corrected Trudy’s driving in what he considered a 'polite' way. Tensions were raised.  The physical side was worse than the emotional. Aldous had lived his adult life in a tux, so going down to an undershirt and shorts was a vacation. Callahan, used to the chillier parts of the northern hemisphere, turned into a sweat soaked mess. (Mad dogs and Englishman, and all that.) When they got to Wolfe Creek crater, Winston was eager to lie in the shade. There, the shaman, very confused to receive visitors, taught them a ritual to awaken the serpent. Unfortunately, they’d still have to free it… Without destroying the mine. (Instead of playing out the return trip, we did a cutaway to Trudy’s younger sister confronting her asset management team, wondering where she went and why no one had seen her in nearly a week. Everyone had fun with the staring secretary.) Back in Woomera, Bingen, who lives to serve, made sure to telegraph the family and let everyone know Trudy was OK. It was unclear if he knew that telegrams include their station of origin... The trio had what they needed. The plan is made: sneak into the mine, modify the tunneling equipment, awaken the creature, and pretend it did it all on its own. *** Subtlety is a specialty of Aldous’s, so the infiltration goes well. Modifying equipment outside of specification isn’t a specialization for the professor; it’s more a hyper-fixation. The project takes all night, but he’s and wise to put in extra effort… because when the creature flees to the sky, it nearly hits the Alan Arani!  The group tried to flee, but their only real means of escape was the airfield, A.K.A. the empty patch of ground where the Spectre was parked. When Daddy landed, reporter Trudy finally told him the truth…. The blood of the creature, shed while escaping, made the mine non-operational. A write-off, hopefully. Unless someone wanted to corner the market in psychotropic gems…