#lucid nightmare (comic)

[bunnymi1k]

it's not easy being the chosen one that everybody's depending on..

i've been really enjoying @issgoart 's comic, and finding it was what pushed me to actually start mine! i'm a sucker for oc content, and of course the "outcast MC getting thrusted into a magical destiny" trope. these were the kinda stories i'd daydream about and cling onto as a teenager, so i gotta huge soft spot for 'em.

forest could also definitely benefit from knowing he's not alone, and that it's ok to struggle with being the 'chosen one'

i'm really intrigued to see where crystal's story goes! now back to my cave to scribble away my own ideas lol

version without fx under the cut

(i miiiiight've adjusted forest's colors to not look so muddy next to crystal lol

he looks different every time i draw him)

[stray-tim]

👁️‍🗨️

-✨

~A lucid dream~

I don't often have lucid dreams, if I'm honest. The dream needs to be as far removed from reality as possible. But there is one I remember fairly well:

It started in a forest, I was probably 14 in that dream and my Mother Janet sat beside me on a picnic blanket, smiling. All of this was bizarre enough for me, to realize that I was dreaming. I noticed that there was no sound, which was unsettling, so I imagined the sound of the wind in the branches of the old trees. I also didn't like, that the forest was just trees as far as one could see, so I made a lake appear beside us with some ducks. And then I just talked with Janet... like nothing happened and as if I still was Timothy...

It wasn't really a thrilling dream, but it was nice to pretend for a while...

I hope the answer isn't too boring Sparkles (๑-﹏-๑)

[fillinforlater]

Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen

Male Reader x Kim Gaeul

Length: 1759 words

Tags: post-gangbang-unclarity, a fuckton of cum, the biggest creampies you can imagine, sluttiest_woman_ever!Gaeul, riding, reverse cowgirl, mating press, cumming again, surprisingly sweet

TW: nasty, a lot of cum by different people

Credit: @friskyriskywhisky had the idea and wrote most of it, I just expanded it as far as I could. Maybe there will be more Gangbang Queen stuff, but this was basically just a double BFH lol

(A/N: Have fun with this crazy, short piece!)

“I want one more…”

Gaeul lies on her nasty bed, which is not only the size of a New York apartment room but also a lot more comfortable. The fresh evidence of sin is all over the once royal pink bedsheet befitting of a princess, a queen to be more accurate. Her comically large pillow is full of wet fingerprints, there are even hints of Gaeul bending over it because she loves it when men penetrate her from behind and fuck her into the soft thing. The headboard and the walls nearby are all smeared with her own slick and the cum from the dozen of guys who unloaded a week's worth and then some for her, on her, because of her. Who knows how much genetic coding is now dripping down those walls, or the side of her bed or along her thighs.

Either way, Gaeul knows that the pungent creampie of hers only feels this good because at least ten horny men put their spunk deep into her cunt. Be it fat cocks, long ones, small, smelly, oddly shaped—Gaeul takes them all and her insides shape to each accordingly. For the horde of cocks it’s an incredible feeling with a surprising snugness, while Gaeul yearns and shouts (as long as there is no shaft testing her gag reflex) for them to finish quickly and deep. Though a marvelous feeling, she is never satisfied. She needs one more, she doesn’t even care if it’s the tiniest rest or a gigantic, creamy load—all that matters is that he cums inside her.

Gaeul’s once-animated and sex-crazed sexual partners have either left or completely passed out on the floor next to her bed—except lucky you, the only one lying naked next to her. Lucky you, who she now eyes, admiring your features while you're half asleep. She crawls over and gently flips you onto your back, stirring you awake in the process.

In your state of extreme grogginess, you aren't able to tell at first if you're being eaten alive or attacked by a savage animal. Just when your fight or flight response springs into action, a pair of lips press against yours. They instantly calm you down like a mothers embrace after a lucid nightmare. You can't help but smile unconsciously at how gentle it feels. Gaeul’s floral-scented shampoo reassures you who's currently kissing you, her touchy, wet and tender fingers reminding you of the first time she checked out your body…

It was a rainy night in one of the many underground bars in Seoul—the type of bar that makes you raise an eyebrow at first, someone with connections has recommended it, looks suspicious; then you fell into the trap of fun conversations and nice liquor that ultimately led to a selection ceremony. This was the moment you realized why this was not a commonly visited place.

Everyone went silent at her entry. Gaeul, the well-known (at least for most people that regularly visit these exclusive bars) gangbang queen was craving men tonight, many men. She was not picky, in fact, there was only one condition you had to fulfill:

“Three days worth of cum. If you had sex or jerked off during the last three days, you’re out for tonight.”

No one dared to defy her or lie to her. She diligently checked everyone’s balls and was extremely thorough, especially with you, who she gently pushed against a bar stool, hand past your waistband. Your breath hitched, hers too when her slender fingers caressed your balls.

“Tall, horny—and at least ten days of cum.

“I’d love for you to join the after party in my pink bed.”

That’s how Gaeul found you, touched you, lured you in and turned you on, like she does at this moment…

It's been minutes now, with no signs of stopping or letting go from Gaeul, her lips still fully attached to yours just to occasionally back off and peck at it again. The last remnants of a dream that could never match this disappear. They are replaced by memories that slowly creep back and your heart drops. You remember what happened not long ago, right on these pink sheets—don’t lie to yourself, you know it happens every other night.

Those soft lips of hers were satisfying other men not too long ago, fully enveloped around shafts of different shapes and sizes. That tongue of hers glided across the cockhead of multiple partners and made sure that no spot on their balls was left out. She would fill her mouth with as much manly musk and precum as she could before her throat was getting assaulted by who knows how many cocks, endlessly coating the back of it with thick cum and forcing her to gag and cry, which everyone knows is a huge turn on for the gangbang queen.

It’s those lips that form a seal around yours and it’s that mouth you attack lazily with your tongue.

Who are you to complain though? Gaeul is the greatest kisser your lips have ever met. Your obsession with her took control of your life even though you had no chance with her. You're just a nobody when Gaeul is the well-beloved queen. The gangbang queen - for those close enough to be her little circle filled with lust and desire. Yet somehow you saw a chance and took it, even if it means taking sloppy seconds (or thirds? Fifths? Wait, how many guys are here again?).

Your mind snaps back to the present when you feel your cock poking at her entrance. Hang on, did she even—fuck! You shiver in both pleasure and disgust. You're plunged into her sloppy cunt, extremely tight, even after being abused by multiple men (some girthier than the ridiculous sex toys she has in her collection). 

Gaeul’s walls hug your tip first, then slowly adjust to your size, like they have become your personal sexy toy. The pleasure really kicks in when the gangbang queen puts your hands on her hips and adds your name into the mixture of huffs and moans. Her incredibly damp cavern and how slippery her whole crotch is against your own, it displays a reality you don't want to admit: You're fucking Gaeul through the creampie of other men. Using the foreign substance as a sticky wannabe lube as you slowly ramp up your pace, you're thinking with your other head only; that’s not an uncommon occurrence with the gangbang queen around. 

Sex with her has you drunk, dazed, carelessly chasing your own high. You want to be the only one to have your load inside of her cunt. Gaeul yearns for breeding, and the sperm of all the other disgusting men, still unconscious in this room is deemed not enough. At this moment you decide to fuck the creampie out of her and replace it with your own.

You're frantically thrusting in and out of her, she replicates your passion as she rides you. Heaps of old cum get forced out with the assistance of gravity but mainly due to the pump that is your cock and the endless pumping into her cunt. Gaeul switches to a reverse cowgirl position and it's only now that you notice that her ass got absolutely filled as well. 

This should not be a surprise, she is the gangbang queen after all, yet you want to look away. This is exclusively other men's cum leaking out of Gaeul and onto your abs. It feels extremely wrong, fucking filthy and somewhat gross. The eagerness of the girl on your dick makes you forget that though. For a short while, you just admire her back, her small, shapely ass and the way her moans are in perfect harmony with the sound of flesh hitting flesh and cum being squeezed out. 

With your whole cock still buried inside her, bottoming her out, you two clumsily get into a mating press position. Gaeul is the most flexible girl you know, her small frame easily capable of folding and bending into every position you want. This position quickly becomes your favorite, because you don’t have to see her leaking asshole anymore, but you know that she is gaping and the worthless spunk steadily leaves her anal cavity. 

Every time you thrust into her, you see and feel her whole ass and thighs ripple. Shock waves across the smooth, stretched, spotless skin gets sent in all kinds of directions because you dig your hands into it. There's still a disgusting amount of cum defying gravity, defying your forceful pounding into Gaeul, but you are sure that if you just keep on fucking her, and press her whole body into the mattress, the petite gangbang queen will leak out all the rest. Through the lewdest of sounds and a clear lack of stamina, the thought of Gaeul filled with nothing but you pushes you through.

You feel the knot inside you loosen, strings and little last spurts of cum hitting her cervix as your tip is right up against it. Gaeul has her feet right up against your back, her heels pulling you deeper inside her. She's still rutting against you, her clit drawing circles against your crotch enjoying the friction and satisfaction it brings. The art of the orgasm, Gaeul has mastered it. In her scream, you find an infinite sea of bliss. It draws out your orgasm a few more seconds; perfect seconds.

Post-nut clarity kicks in and you try to block out the other people who are regaining consciousness in the room. Witness how ethereal her beauty is under the ceiling light. You want to kiss her. You want to tell her how much you love her. However, the harsh reality kicks in harder than the post-nut clarity as she shifts her gaze away from you and looks at the time. You close your eyes, take a deep breath to cherish just how fucking good her cock-warming cavern is. 

You pull away, unfazed at the mess in front of you at this point. Party time is over and you’re victorious but defeated, a bit deflated even. Why is the girl you’re falling for the wrong type of queen? 

"Hey..." Gaeul reaches out and grabs your forearm and pulls you a little closer to give you one last peck on your cheek. "Drive safely, okay?” Her fingers tiptoe towards your hand until it reaches the back of your it, her thumb gently rubs circles on it. A new level of intimacy that makes your heart stutter. “Message me when you’re back home."

[ivynajspyder]

TECHNICAL SUPPORT JOINS THE TOURNAMENT @kirbyoctournament (just a little late haha)

Go to her blog here for lore and silly comics or send her asks!

NEW REF:

Name: Technical Support, but prefers to go by Techie

Bio: The younger sister of Holy Nightmare's Customer Service. Unlike her polite and smooth-talking brother, she can be rather rude and abrasive. She hates dealing with customers and blames them for breaking things. She tends to slack at her job and prefers doing her own tinkering and coding on the side.

She likes to tease her brother and cause problems for him. Really she likes to cause problems for anyone if it seems fun, but if you can appreciate a bit of chaos she's easy to get along with.

Background: She and CS are actually Nightmare's "children", and not just regular demon beasts he created. Why and how they were born is a mystery to most, including themselves, but Dr. Yeva was involved.

Abilities: She has the power to enter people's dreams, but not change them. She can give the dreamer the ability to lucid dream.

Likes: Video games, cute things, sweets, parties

Dislikes: Working, following rules, clowns

Other refs: (they're a bit older but still good. Mostly only her glasses design has changed)

(So there are technically two versions of this character. The other one belongs in the 'verse created by ShadowWolf many years ago, but they seem to have moved on to greener fandoms so I made a different thing for myself. Her origins are a bit different there and she goes by Rin)

[fruitcoops]

Debut

Day 5, ft. our black-cat lucid-dreaming king. Characters belong to @lumosinlove (sorry not sorry for what I did to your favorite boy) and header belongs to @noots-fic-fests!

Yesterday's movie: It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! (1966)

TW for mentioned movie-murder (nobody actually dies)

Regulus spared the glass double-doors hardly a glance before wrinkling his nose. It was hot out, sticky and steamy, and the direct sun pummeling the entire courtyard reeked of early September. Busy chatter ran rampant around him between flashes of color and blurry faces.

“I’m dead,” Regulus said decisively.

Next to him, Leo rolled his eyes and caught his tennis ball on the downswing. “You haven’t even been to first period.”

“This—” Regulus gestured at the main building, blindingly bright and stuffier than any high school had the right to be. “This is hell. Ergo, dead.”

“Tell me again in pre-calc and I’ll believe you.”

“You tested out of pre-calc,” Regulus reminded him, laying back on the hood of Leo’s car. The blue paint was unspecific and unassuming, almost black in certain lights. “And that’s an ugly sweater you’d never wear.”

Grey cotton switched to thick stripes by the time he looked at Leo next; the stupid silver chain remained around his neck. Leo frowned down at himself. “I like this sweater.”

“Hmm.” The characters didn’t tend to care whether Regulus interacted with them much or not. The plot plodded on until he shook himself awake or the blare of an alarm did it for him. It rarely came to a conclusive end.

“Natalie got a phone call last night from some weirdo on the landline,” Leo continued, tossing his ball back up in the air. “They were talking about…I dunno, I think he was asking her questions? Sounded like a guy, anyway.”

“Horrifying.”

“Kasey’s going over tonight with Finn’s brother to keep her company.”

Regulus stretched his back against the windshield and looked to the vast sky. No matter how far he tilted his head back, the old tin roof was always visible. It was a mutated version of his memories—he hadn’t tried very hard to remember what it looked like from the outside. Sirius had excelled there. Every professor remembered his name.

A thread on his baggy jeans was coming loose. If he allowed the dream to progress, Leo would no doubt call him later to inform him, distraught, that Kasey and Finn’s brother (whose name slipped Regulus’ mind constantly) and probably Natalie had died in some explosively gory fashion. It would be distressing despite the fallacy of it all, he’d drag himself awake, and then it would be three o’clock in the morning and he would be sweaty with adrenaline. Regulus had enjoyed the party at Leo’s new house. He’d prefer not to pay the cost of attendance (a rare seasonal hangover) before he absolutely had to.

Denim-on-denim warned him of a new presence before he could actively pick a new story. “O’Hara.”

“Babe, is he bothering you?” Finn’s voice dragged and drawled with California haze. Under his arm, Tremblay narrowed his eyes at Regulus. His bubblegum gave a violent pop.

“Not too bad,” Leo said playfully.

Did Finn even own a denim jacket? God, he probably did. Even Regulus’ imagination couldn’t have pinned something that specific from nothing. Maybe he should just let the rest of this murderous Riverdale-ass nonsense play out in its original form to punish that fashion nightmare.

“Can you wear a hoodie like a normal person?” he yawned. Apparently, he was overtired even in his sleep.

Finn fixed him with a comically disgusted look. “Why are you even here?”

Where the fuck had Regulus picked that accent from? “This is my high school,” he said. “I spent the whole night at your house, can I have some peace and quiet here?”

Logan popped another bubble. His scowl held far too little legitimate danger; if nothing else, that would have tipped Regulus off. The original outright animosity had rested much heavier on him than teenage pouting.

But there—on the steps. “Calisse de crisse,” he muttered, swinging himself down from the hood of Leo’s car.

The courtyard was almost perfect under his feet, as if he was feeling the asphalt through his old loafers. He had hated those goddamn shoes. He came to a sharp halt, right as his shadow fell across lined paper marked with meticulous, infuriating lines.

“Go away.”

Sirius blinked up at him. “Hi.”

“Stop,” Regulus insisted. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why?”

“We didn’t go to high school together.” Honestly, it was so embarrassing for his brain to mix it up this badly. Valley-Girl Finn O’Hara was a nightmare in and of itself; the least his imagination could do was keep track of a timeline. “Put your physics away and leave.”

Sirius’ brow creased. “How did you know I was doing homework?”

“Unlucky guess.”

“How did you know it was—"

“Because you’re always doing your fucking physics in my nightmares!” Regulus dragged a hand down his face and gripped the back of his own neck. It felt like nothing, not even air. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face toward the clouds. “Yes, I understand, I hated the classes Sirius excelled in as an extension of my own complex inner world, merci, au revoir.”

When he looked down again, Sirius was gone. Remus Lupin leaned on the railing by the bay windows, looking out over the river. He had a book in one hand and a bloody knife in the other.

Regulus stared at him.

“No.”

It was Leo when he blinked. A dark robe and everything, and that tennis ball instead of a book. His face got a little fuzzy in profile, but cleared up when he looked at Regulus head-on.

Regulus tipped his head back and forth. “Better.”

He walked with Leo through the never-ending halls. Some were direct rip-offs of his actual high school, down to the navy lockers and their silver buckles. Others had been borrowed: a staircase from elementary school, a music room from Steinhardt, the artificial glow of Sirius’ basement skating rink around a corner. His stomach swooped at the sight of the broken dumbwaiter he and Sirius had used for hide and seek, and he ground his teeth hard.

He had his loafers on. His khakis were tight on his thighs. Leo’s footsteps made no sound.

“I think you’re supposed to be a serial killer,” Regulus noted on their third circuit of the second floor. “With a mask and everything.”

“Oh.” Leo sounded almost disappointed. “I mean, I could?”

“I might just be bad at imagining that.”

“Should’ve stuck with Lupin,” Leo agreed.

“I can go off and find him—”

“Don’t leave me here,” Leo groaned, walking backward for a few floppy steps that made him look more like himself than he had the whole time.

Regulus huffed. “Neither of you pose much of a danger to me.”

“I think we do, in a way.”

--

No.

The thought was forceful enough to pull Regulus to the surface. He exhaled hard, blinking fast until his left eye decided to get with the program and open properly.

The stove’s electric clock told him it was just past two in the morning. Not bad.

He sighed. His feet, tangled in the fresh sheets Leo had laid out for him, still felt too compressed. That explained the loafers. He could get up for a few minutes; make a snack, take a walk around the still-sparse main floor of the house. He didn’t hear anyone else up yet.

Or he could stay here, burrowed in a quilt that smelled lightly of magnolia. The sheets let his legs free when he stretched, still shaking off the scent of bubblegum and industrial cleaning solution. He was tired. Perhaps a little drunk, enough to dull the oncoming throbbing behind his temple. The sugar rush was long dead.

Regulus tucked his nose down into a butter-yellow square and shut his eyes. Being asleep was an exhausting business. He had too many questions. There was too much to nitpick. Too much psychoanalysis to avoid.

The sheer audacity of Leo to pull some therapy trick in Regulus’ own dream. As if he wouldn’t be aware of it, as if he’d fall into the trap that easily. Regulus muffled a frown in the quilt. If Leo, the real one, was an actual danger to anything but the occasional low doorframe, he wouldn’t be on the foldout in the first place. Really, it was just lazy writing.

Do better, Regulus thought as he shuffled deeper into his cocoon. From the top, this time.

[starwriterulia]

Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon - Chapter 4

SUBJECT MATERIAL WARNINGS FOR THIS FANFICTION ARE INCLUDED IN THE MASTERLIST POST OF MY BLOG AND THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FANFICTION.

Bat dividers by @violetbudd

Minors DNI, scene cut and creator support banners by @cafekitsune

Latest revision: August 18, 2024. Added minors DNI, scene cut and "Support your creators by reblogging" banners. Added ⏭️ emoji below end of chapter banner with text explaining its function as a navigational button.

Chapter summary: Faith, nude, is experiencing a lucid dream when Ra's, also nude, appears, and holds her left breast from behind while talking with Faith about how she could make this easier on everyone if she submitted to him. Faith reminds Ra's that it was a shared wet dream, and she follows her curiosity and sexual hormones, and allows Ra's to use her mouth. Before Ra's moves on to her vagina, the eight pairs of neon red eyes of a spider-demon appears in the darkness, and uses a tentacle to throw Ra's far into the sky. Faith flirts with the demon, who speaks Nerobzal, the language of the Nero Sprits of Faith's fictional galaxy, Thalassic Space, and they have sex using the demon's tentacles in Faith's mouth, vagina and anus. But Faith loses motivation and dispells the illusion, revealing to her that she had burned part of the forest near Wayne Manor, and is in shock.

Urania comes down from the sky in a beautiful cluster of stars within a beam of light, and scolds Faith, and inserts a finger into Faith's vagina to remove residue from the dream world to prevent a Nero Spirit from manifesting or possessing Faith. She leads Faith into the forest, where Batman was waiting, telling him to call if she's needed and Zatanna is unavailable, and they go to the mansion, where Urania departs. Stephanie waited inside, and helps Faith dress before making breakfast for the two girls, during which Faith tries to talk about her Fairy Persona, Solas, and her Mermaid Persona, Ønske, but instead talks about the alphabets and translation and pronunciation rules of Neofom and Nerobzal. Batman interrupts after this, saying they were late to the Belfry, and the girls put their dishes in the sink with water and leave with Batman. After Faith's training, while Barbara escorts Faith to the bathroom to shower while Tim and Stephanie prepare dinner, Dick reflects about the session, Ra's' actions earlier that day, and the other world-ending disaster that Ra's could initate with knowledge of its ritual. The Batkids eat dinner together, then Stephanie and Faith go upstairs to have some fun.

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily, no Batcest, Thalassic Space (OC; takes inspiration The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Assassin's Creed: Black Flag, Silent Hill 2, Silent Hill 3, and other sci-fi, fantasy and horror titles, as well as original concepts, such as the science and lore of the galaxy.)

[In order of appearance] Characters: Faith Lawson (TBA; self-insert), Stephanie Brown (The Spoiler), Bruce Wayne (Batman), Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Tim Drake (Red Robin).

Word Count: 11570 (Back to having a long chapter due to how much dialogue I tend to write, WHOOPS.) 15439 (August 10 revision, HOLY SHIT, I mean of course it got longer 'cause I added part of Chapter 3 onto it, but HOT DAMN)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5

Content warnings: Nightmare related imagery, brief non-consensual breast holding, oral (male receiving), vaginal and anal teasing and penetration with a lucid dream manifested tentacle, face teasing (female receiving) with a lucid dream manifested tentacle, rough consensual vaginal and anal sex with a lucid dream manifested tentacle, dirty thoughts à la Dick Grayson about Faith's ass, thighs and boobs (it it may be slightly OOC, but then again... it's probably fine LOL)

I approached my high school that was also UNBC Prince George and the most horrifying yet thrilling indoor water park that could ever exist, taking large strides towards the front doors of the school and entering, slowing my pace as I neared the gymnasium hallway. The canteen to the left was open and tended by familiar faces, and to the right was a Japanese subway station clad in neon pink, and down that way, on the left side of the hall, was a McDonalds. The way its white, red and yellow lighting merged with the neon pink gave me a headache. I entered the gym, which no longer captured its appearance as I remembered it, basketball hoops, metal support structures, the laminate flooring and the bleachers with an opening to the locker hallway, and from there two stairs to the mezzanine, and displayed the water park with white tiles and blue tiles of various shades, cautionary signs on the floor and walls, and two massive pools that were probably from Vancouver or Surrey. I had flashes of going down the waterslide of too many impossible tubes, the drain-slide of doom, and the shocking feeling of my foster dad not quite catching me, and the curiosity of what would have remained if I had died, that day. Would my subconscious be trapped in the pool, or would it become one with the water and cease to exist?

I heard a man hum lustfully behind me. He slithered an arm over my left shoulder and cupped his hand around my breast. "Are you usually naked in your dreams?" It was Ra's, of course. I didn't even need to turn around to confirm that.

"No." I felt my body awaken as we were transported to the street in front of the high school at night, the yellow light of streetlamps keeping away the creatures and spirits that I couldn't name or describe, but the goosebumps on my skin had felt. Ra's had attracted an audience of Nero Spirits, and they would love a show. I rubbed my eyes and yawned while I said, "But, yawn, whenever I check what I'm wearing, or make any conscious effort to get information or change the Script, things break, and I wake up violently." Ra's hummed. "Are you bothering me because you've found my dragon tomb on Earth and want to tell me you're coming back for your new wife?"

"No, although I do very dearly want that. I was wondering if you could tell me how to get past that spider of yours so I can make that come true, and you won't have to worry about training for what would be a short, futile and rather painful battle, for you."

"Like hell I'm telling you that. Ra's, when I say, 'Stop, or it'll kill you', I mean it, and it won't be me who kills you."

"Oh, aha ha ha, how cute. You think anything in your little galaxy can hurt me or take my life?"

"You brought this upon yourself. You should have recognised how dangerous Platonia is, when you first stared into it. If you continue, and if you manage to defeat me, or whatever, I literally will be unable to stop what comes next until I'm resurrected, and Earth won't have much time for the heroes to gather the Four."

"What are you talking about?" Ra's said, curiously. He moved to stand in front of me. He was naked, too. I couldn't help how my face reacted, my lips parting and my eyes locking onto his cock, six inches and quite girthy. "You like what you see."

"I mean, I do like older men, and it was a shared wet dream."

"Then make this easier on yourself," R'as took hold of my shoulders, and forced me to my knees. His dick was becoming erect, and was close enough to my face that I could smell his pheromones. "And let me fuck you, Faith."

I was lost for words. And I was really curious. Also, it might make Ra's stop pursuing me. "I have a gag reflex, by the way." I said, taking his dick in my right hand and stroking it as I licked and kissed around his tip.

Ra's moaned in his throat. "Yes, mm. Why don't I help you with that?"

"I'm open to that." I said. Ra's started to insert his cock into my mouth, his left hand holding the back of my head. I sighed, my shoulders relaxing.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Better than my dildo. You have a pulse."

"Oh, yes. Relax, relax everything, and just breathe through your nose calmly. I'll do the rest."

"Do you want me to swallow?" I said, making eye contact.

"Yes."

Oh God, my hormones. "Mm, fuck me." I slackened my jaw, inhaling. R'as pushed his dick into my mouth, and as I gagged and my eyes fluttered, he laughed with a smug expression.

"Good?"

"Mhm." It kinda hurt and was really awkward, but holy shit if wasn't a good hurt.

"Good." Ra's said. He grunted, and began to fuck my face. I moaned and concentrated on the rough feeling of his cock using me like a fleshlight. Breathing through my nose was so, so awkward and uncomfortable for the first fifteen seconds.

"Yes, like that. You've got it, now." I moaned, and reached my arms to hold the back of Ra's' legs. "Yes, good. Good, girl."

Ra's persisted, never easing up on his treatment of my mouth, and I felt the wetness of my cunt, and imagined how it might smell with the scent of Ra's' dick in my face. "You're wet for me, Faith." Ra's said, sultrily. I nodded a little, softly moaning. "Are you going to get on your hands and knees so I can fuck your little pussy?" I moaned.

"Nanoz." Said a masculine voice from the darkness behind Ra's.

"What was that? What did he say?"

I pulled my face down, removing Ra's from my mouth. "He said 'no'."

"Who was that?" Ra's looked over his shoulder as eight pairs of neon red eyes appeared.

"The demon I call Nerobzal. I don't know his actual name."

"It isr toz' preciozuzsr phzozr yabozuz toz knanozwz, labozve." I fluttered my eyes and blushed. I looked at Ra's face. He looked pissed.

"He said, 'It is too precious for you to know, love'."

"Well, get in line, pal."

"I azmam thze labinane."

"He is the line." I said. Ra's scoffed.

"Iphz yabozuz ever tryab toz tozuzchz mamyab labozve azgazinan, I wzilab' give yabozuz pazinan eternanazlab."

"'If you ever touch my love again, I will give you pain eternal'." I translated.

Ra's scoffed louder. "No pain you could ever give would qualify as pain to me." The eight-eyed demon was silent. "Makes you think twice, doesn't it?" Six. "Your 'love' is my bitch now, you hear me? I'm going to take her home a-AAAAND!" Ra's was lifted into the air by a scraggly neon red arm with a clawed hand, and swung about in tight circles like Thor winding Mjölnir.

"Send him home, honey." I said, kindly.

"Glabazdlabyab." 'Gladly.' The eight-eyed demon threw Ra's, whose scream followed his body into the silence of the dark.

"And the next time he tries to search for my dragon tomb, hunt him, and do anything but kill him. Batman wouldn't be happy about that."

"Yabesr, I uznandersrtaznand. Wze mamuzsrt plabazyab bzyab thze ruzlabesr ozphz ozthzersr, srozmametimamesr." 'Yes, I understand. We must play by the rules of others, sometimes.'

"Thank you. Do you… want anything from me as payment for this?" The demon hummed seductively. I felt his voice vibrate throughout my body, and I moaned loudly, my torso suddenly so heavy that I had to bend forward, leaning on my arms with my ass raised as I looked into the highest pair of the demon's eyes. "Labet mame plabeazsre yabozuz phzozr thze timame wze hzazve labephzt." 'Let me pleasure you for the time we have left.'

"Oh, yes! Yes, please!" I opened my mouth wide, licking the air. Three neon red tentacles, each with a tip the size of a naval orange and growing in width as they disappeared into the darkness, and another lanky arm came from the shadows. One tentacle placed itself in front of my face, and I desperately licked it and used my lips and jaw to put it my mouth to suck on, moaning. The demon grumbled four times. "Does that feel good, honey?"

"Yabesr." 'Yes.' I continued licking and sucking on the tentacle as the other two slathered my feet in the demon's liquid. The two tentacles traced up my legs, covering them in slick. When they reached my ass, the two arms he had produced grabbed my ass cheeks tightly. I moaned, sticking my tongue out. The tentacle I had been sucking on playing with my tongue, and moved around my face.

"Ohhhh, yes, honey, yes. Use me, honey, use me!" I pleaded. The tentacle pushed itself into my mouth, and I relaxed my jaw as it entered, flickering around, making me drool onto the asphalt. The hands spread my ass cheeks, and the two tentacles teased my holes, around and in the beginning of each opening. I moaned and gasped in pleasure, looking into the highest pair of eyes, and the demon hummed to me.

The tentacle lingering around my cunt entered, and I released a long, sputtered moan around the tentacle in my mouth. "Yes! Ohhhh!" The tentacle in my pussy began to thrust, the liquids that began to fill me making my head light with ecstasy. I tilted my head to the right with the sensation, the tentacle in my mouth beginning to pass into my throat, and I moaned softly.

The tentacle near my ass hole plunged in. "OH!" I gasped, moving my head back suddenly, leaving behind the tentacle in my mouth. "Oh, fuck yeah!" The tentacle in my ass worked quickly. "Oh, yes, honey, yes!"

The demon's tentacle that had been in my mouth travelled around my face, and I grabbed onto it with my left hand to lick it. "Wzhzazt wzilab' yabozuz doz wzhzenan hze chazlab'enangesr yabozuz azphzter yabozuz hzazve received trazinaninang phzrozmam thze mamozrtazlabsr yabozuz hzazve bzephzrienanded?" 'What will you do when he challenges you after you have received training from the mortals you have befriended?'

"I will try to win."

"Wzhzat iphz yabozuz labozsre?" 'What if you lose?'

"Will I not wander the darkness and find you?"

"Yabozuz wzilab', iphz thzazt isr wzhzazt yabozuz truzlabyab wzaznant." 'You will, if that is what you truly want.' The demon moved the tentacle from my face to my breasts, bringing forth two more tentacles. "Bzuzt yabozuz azre nanozt wzhzozlab'yab mamazde phzozr mame, labozve." 'But you are not wholly made for me, love.' The new tentacles wrapped around my waist and upper right thigh, hoisting my leg. "Yabozuz azre mamozrtazlan." 'You are mortal.' The tentacle that was in my cunt moved rougher, but not violently, aiming downwards and making me moan.

"Oznanlabyab yabozuzr srpirit isr eternanazlab." 'Only your spirit is eternal.' I hummed in acknowledgement, nodding. "Iphz yabozuz wzaznandered thze dazrknanesr' wzithzozuzt cozmamplabete cozmam'itmamenant toz phozrever be boznanded wzithz mame, azsr thze Labazdyab Wzhzoz Srozuzghzt thze Azrmamsr ozphz az Nanightmamazre, yabozuz wzozuzlabd never labeazve Inanphzernanoz." 'If you wandered the darkness without complete commitment to forever be bonded with me, as the Lady Who Sought the Arms of a Nightmare, you would never leave Inferno.'

"Wze wzozuzlabd be tozgethzer inan thze Perimameter ozphz thze Naninanthz Circlabe, buzt yabozuz wzozuzlabd be uznanazblabe toz die toz beginan ozr enand Red Srtozrmam Eazrthz, mameaznaninang wze wzozuzlabd hzazve creazted thzazt srcenanazrioz phzozr nanothzinang, aznand Thzalabazsr'ic Srpazce wzozuzlabd labozse oznane ozphz itsr Plabazyabwzrighztsr. I doz nanozt thzinank yabozuz srhzozuzlabd sreek mame." 'We would be together in the Perimeter of the Ninth Circle, but you would be unable to die to begin or end Red Storm Earth, meaning we would have created that scenario for nothing, and Thalassic Space would lose one of its Playwrights. I do not think you should seek me.'

I sighed. "You're right. Ra's has learned about Red Storm Earth now, right?"

"Yabesr, hze hzazsr. I hzeazrd hzimam labazuzghz phzrozmam thze roz'mam wzhzere yabozuz aznand Azrgozphzazelab wzere labazid toz resrt. Hze szazid it wzazsr perphzect." 'Yes, he has. I heard him laugh from the room where you and Argophael were laid to rest. He said it was perfect.'

"Thanks for letting me know. If I lose, Red Storm Earth will have to be ended, as it normally would."

"Yabesr. Aznand I wzilab' azccept mamyab rozlabe azsr oznane ozphz thze demamoznansr yabozuz mamuzsrt depheazt." 'Yes. And I will accept my role as one of the demons you must defeat.'

I nodded, and raised my cheeks to smile. "Oh, to finally see the climax of Thalassic Space!"

"Yabesr, it wzilab' bze quzite thze srpectazclabe." 'Yes, it will be quite the spectacle.' I nodded more. "I labike thze nanazme yabozuz gazve mame, labozve. It hzazsr aznan inanteresrtinang buzt srimamplabe ozriginan." 'I like the name you gave me, love. It has an interesting but simple origin.'

"Thank you. You won't leave me after this, will you?"

The demon laughed. "Nanoz. Wze hzazve beenan tozgethzer phozr srix hzuznandred aznand eighztyab srevenan yabeazrsr, aznand I hzozpe wze azre tozgethzer phzozr srix hzuznandred aznand eighztyab srevenan mamozre. Azsr equzazlab creaztive maminandsr wzhzoz srozmametimamesr mameet toz hzazve srex, inan dreazmamsr." 'No. We have been together for six hundred and eighty seven years, and I hope we are together for six hundred and eighty seven more. As equal creative minds who sometimes meet to have sex, in dreams.'

"Hm," I smiled. "This isn't a dream."

"Nanoz, it isr nanozt az dreazmam. Raz'sr azlab Ghzuzlab creazted az pazthz ozuzt ozphz thze tozmamb azsr hze phzlabed, wzhzenan hze wzozke mame phzrozmam mamyab wzeb aznand reazlabisred mamyab srize aznand pozwzer. I phzozlab'ozwzed hzimam toz az mamaznansrioznan aznand enantered thze roz'mam yabozuz srlabept inan azsr hzisr shzazdozwz. Wzhzenan hze remamozved hzisr clabozthzesr, I mamozved bozthz ozphz yabozuz hzere. I wzazited phzozr hzimam toz be nanuzde sroz hze cozuzlabd phzyabsricazlab'yab phzeelab mamyab Lawbzal, wzhzenan I grazbbed hzimam." 'No, it is not a dream. Ra's al Ghul created a path out of the tomb as he fled, after he woke me from my web and realised my size and power. I followed him to a mansion and entered the room you slept in as his shadow. When he removed his clothes, I moved both of you here. I waited for him to be nude so he could physically feel my Lawbzal, when I grabbed him.'

"Cool! Big, strong demon!" I giggled.

The demon hummed. "I azmam sroz veryab phzozrtuznanazte toz hzazve phzozuznand srozmameoznane sroz kinand, bzeazuztiphzuzlab aznand inantelab'igenant toz hzazuznant." 'I am so very fortunate to have found someone so kind, beautiful and intelligent to haunt.'

I smiled with my cheeks. "I'm glad to have met you in person, in this life. And I'm glad that we love each other."

"I azmam glanazd phzozr thzazt, toz', labozve. Nanozwz, hzozlabd oznan. Labet mame phzinanisrhz inan yabozuz." 'I am glad for that, too, love. Now, hold on. Let me finish in you.' I hummed, eagerly. "Labet mame cozmamplabete yabozuzr wzisrhz, aznand I wzilab' tazke mamyab pazyabmamenant." 'Let me complete your wish, and I will take my payment.'

"Let's do it, honey." I said, cheerfully. The demon pushed the tentacle in my vagina as far as it could go. I laid on my stomach from the overwhelming situation. "Oh! Oh, oh!"

"Isr thzazt toz' mamuzchz?" 'Is that too much?'

"Oh, I think you're right against my cervix, please try not to go further, it hurts as it is, and I don't think I would enjoy a dance with death that intimately."

"Veryab wzelab', labozve." 'Very well, love.' The tentacles continued to pump into my pussy and ass. But I was having trouble staying in the fantasy, and three seconds later, I released the illusion. I laid on a small clearing in the forest near Wayne Manor, and my solar magic had melted the snow and scorched the grass, and six layers of trees had been turned to ash.

"Oh my God, I did that!"

A cluster of golden stars spanning fifty kilometres (31 miles) gathered in the sky, and from the cluster came a golden beam of light that shot to the ground, four feet away from me. Urania must have given a Celestial Globe to Batman or the League. "Daughter," She said melodically, as she closed the distance, standing with her arms on her hips at my feet. "Were you not only pretending to have self-cestuous intercourse with your Animus in the forest, but role-playing as demon-spider and its wench?"

"Yes." I said, sitting up and crossing my legs. "I don't feel sick anymore, though."

"Tsk. Do you need me to look at your vagina and make sure you are not dying?"

"No, Mother. I lost motivation, just now. I didn't finish, or penetrate myself too deeply."

"Good. Still, I will clean you of any residue from the Dream World on Paper so that no Nero Spirit possesses or follows you." Urania knelt before me, and inserted a finger into my vagina. A soothing warmth captivated my body. Five seconds later, Urania removed her finger, and wiped it on her toga. "Oh, look at what you have done, in two minutes! You know how quickly your O-star eye burns everything around you, if you have lucid or waking fantasies without supervision! We are fortunate you had a sexual fantasy only involving yourself and your Animus instead of a destructive one like Red Storm Earth!"

"Yes, Mother. I'm sorry, I was dreaming and forgot I'm not on Earth-33 anymore, and that I have magic now."

"Mhm." Urania nodded firmly.

"I should have recognised the illusion I created, but I didn't because I wanted the fantasy so badly."

Urania held my hands in hers. "I know why you fell into the design of your subconscious, sweetheart. You are a lonely woman, and yes, most fault lays with your foster parents and some with your adoptive parents for not guiding you or talking to you about the how and why of relationships so you could at least use that knowledge to better your life. This was true during your life as a demigoddess, too. This dilemma of loneliness is also in part your fault, in this life. You understand the rules of monogamy, and the reasons for those rules, but when presented with online dating, you broke the rules of trust and exclusivity. You have not dated since August of last year, though that was two boyfriends later."

"Yeah." I exhaled. "Yeah. I keep making myself fictional love interests, but it never has, and never will, fill the hole I made."

"Precisely. Tell me, how did it actually feel to have intercourse with your Animus, in that form? What did your narration not describe?"

"I felt the strange, heightened sensation of having sex in a dream, but it went on for too long. That's when I remembered I don't have any real experience to base the scenario on. My depression broke me out of it, and, uh, I think that's fortunate."

"Yes, you are fortunate that your consciousness remembered its truth, albeit heavy on your emotions and health." I nodded, looking down. Urania sighed and lifted my chin with her left hand. "Ulia, I know you were only trying to please yourself and not have to ask for help. You have always had a hard time asking for help, even as a demigoddess. But this is something you should ask for help with. You are very lucky that your Animus has a tether of five kilometres (3 miles) to your physical location so that this short-sighted decision could not take you into the city, where all of the world would have beared witness to your debauchery and the natural horrors that the solar fire and gravitational vaccum sealed in your eyes that you were gifted to use for creation by your father can bring. Ask for help, next time. And not just when you need to be touched."

"Yes, Mother." I said, meekly. "I will ask for help, next time."

"Thank you. And I better see it! I do not want to see you put yourself in any more compromising situations, situations that will make the people who are supposed to trust you doubt your intentions, who you want to use your powers for, why you want to use magic, and I know this is especially important to you right now, why you are worthy of being Batgirl, if part of the Batfamily at all." I frowned as Urania said the last clause of her argument.

"You're right." I said, defeated but not broken. "I won't do this again."

"Thank you, Faith. Thank you." The second time, softly. Urania inhaled, stood up by pushing on her knees, and offered her left hand. I lifted my cheeks in a smile, and accepted the help to stand. "Let's get you back inside." We walked into the forest, where the grass became snow.

"Thank you for coming to help, Mother."

"It was my pleasure, Ulia." Urania wrapped her left arm around my right, and leaned close to whisper into my right ear, "When you do have sex with a penis, your IUD, Kyleena, won't do anything because of your reawakened spirit." I groaned into a laugh, smiling. Urania laughed in the way a mother who knows she's won would. "I love you." She said, melodically.

"I love you too, Mother." I said, kindly, and leaned into Urania, smiling with my cheeks and eyes. Urania hummed, pleased, and moved her weight away from me.

"Is all well, Batman?" Urania said, looking to her right. I inhaled and looked that way, and saw Batman emerge from the snowy trees.

"Yes. The only thing affected was the clearing, and those trees."

"Good. Her flu has been conquered, so I expect you will give her a meal and proceed with training?"

"Yes."

"Good. If she does anything like this again, but in the city, and you for whatever reason do not want to ask for Zatanna's assistance, or are unable to have her aid, please summon me with the Celestial Globe that I gifted you."

"I will, Urania. Thank you."

"Thank you, as well. For your patience, this morning, certainly." Urania said. Batman hummed. We reached the front yard. "All right, daughter. I will leave you, now. Until next time. Please try to behave yourself."

"Yes, Mother." I said, blushing bright red. "Thank you, Mother." Urania sighed with content. A smile came to her face, and she hugged me. I returned the hug, and several seconds later, Urania separated her body from mine.

"I will be on my way." Urania left for the sky the same way she appeared.

"Come on, Faith." Batman said, and walked with me inside the mansion.

"You're friggin' crazy, girl!" Said a feminine voice from upstairs. I looked, and there was—

"Stephanie!" I called out, beaming. Stephanie was not in costume, and leaned against the centre railing of the great hall stairs.

"Hi, crazy!" Stephanie replied. I laughed. "So like, you pretended to fuck your male-self, and you went out in the cold snow naked?"

"Yeah. I mean, I was sleeping naked, so."

"Faith!" Stephanie parkoured over the railing, and came towards me and Batman. "Faith, Faith, Fa-hey-haith." She put her hands on my shoulders with a smug grin. "You're crazy." I laughed. "And I will eat you out, tonight."

"Stephanie." Said Batman.

"Shut it, Bruce. Let's get you not naked, some food in your stomach, and then we'll get you to the Belfry."

"Oh-kay." I said, in my silly-time-at-work voice.

"OK?" Stephanie tilted her head forward, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, OK." I said, normally, with a light laugh.

"OK!" Stephanie linked her right arm with my left, and tried to skip, finding immediate resistance. "La—! Hey, why—?"

"I can't skip, either."

"Oh, right! Physical disability! You can't do shit, right now! I'm sorry."

"It's OK." I said, laughing. "We'll just walk, briskly, like the gays do."

"YES!" Stephanie and I began to walk at a fast pace. "Yes, we will walk briskly, like the gays do!"

"Woo hoo!"

"WOO!" Stephanie and I laughed. I heard a little something from Batman.

—

Faith and Stephanie entered the guest bedroom, and Faith searched in her dufflebag for something to wear. She chose black leggings and a full-length sleeved olive green shirt, vivid blue boxer briefs, a light blue sports bra, and black socks. Stephanie looked at the contents of the bag without touching anything. "Hm, you like earthy and jewel tones, eh?" Faith had brought a short-sleeved olive green shirt, a burgundy tank top, a dark blue shirt with a large rose pattern, two purple shirts, one full-sleeved and the other a T-shirt, and a brown tank top. She had brought two other pairs of black leggings, two pairs of black shorts, a grey pair of shorts, a pair of dark grey jogging pants, and a brown skirt that caught Stephanie's eye. Faith had brought two weeks' worth of black or dark coloured boxer briefs and a handful of loose-fitting bikini briefs, also black or dark coloured, black and grey socks, a pink sports bra and a purple sports bra that were the same style as the one Faith had picked to wear, and a grey sports bra with spaghetti straps and two darker shades of grey and black making a pattern of small lines.

"Yeah." Faith said, putting on the undergarments she picked. "Check out that brown skirt with the brown tank top, that's my favourite outfit."

"Yeah, I was looking at the skirt, lemme get a better look at it." Said Stephanie. She produced the item, letting it unfurl. "Ooh! That is so cuuuute!"

"Right? Thrift store find, along with the top I pair with it."

Stephanie pulled out the top, and gasped, seeing the dark olive green crochet work on its front. "Oh, that's so cute! I bet you look fabulous in it, with the skirt."

"Oh yeah!" Faith said, putting on the shirt she had chosen. "They look so good together that I get asked if it's a dress, and then I pull on the top of the skirt to show it's a skirt."

"Oh yeah." Stephanie said. Faith pulled on the leggings. "All good?"

"Uh, lemme brush my hair and wash my face."

"Sure, baby." Faith's cheeks reddened as they rose to smile, and Stephanie smiled in acknowledgement. 'I don't think she's ever been flirted with by a girl. This must be really special to her. Don't fuck this up, Steph!' Faith picked up the black vented hairbrush in her bag, strode to the bathroom, and went to work. "You're being so rough to your hair!"

"Yeah, well, if the curls win, it's a rat's nest, except for some parts in the back and front that stay curly."

"Mind if I help?"

"Sure!" Faith said, extending her right arm backwards. Stephanie entered the bathroom and accepted the brush. "I haven't had someone else brush my hair in a long time, that would feel nice."

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" Stephanie said, beginning to gently work the brush through Faith's hair.

"I'm getting it dyed, on Thursday."

Stephanie gasped. "Ooh, what colour?"

"Red."

"Ooh, that'll look nice! Are you just getting it on what's grown out for a bit of an ombre look, or are you getting it all bleached and dyed, or just some streaks that'll get done?"

"What's grown out, plus a bunch of streaks."

"Nice!"

"Yeah. It'll be bright, but when I do it again, it'll be burgundy."

"Oh, that's going to look amazing on you."

"Mhm." Faith nodded, humming and smiling with her cheeks.

"You should let Bruce know, so he can make your costume match!"

"Oh, I will."

"Good." Stephanie continued brushing Faith's hair for another minute, then dangled the brush over Faith's right shoulder.

"Oh, you can put it back in my bag, if you want."

"Sure." Stephanie exited the bathroom, and Faith opened the cupboard under the sink. She found a white face cloth, and ran it under hot water as Stephanie returned. "You don't use soap, or anything?"

"Eh, I use a face-cleaning wipe in the evening, if I feel gross or put on makeup for once, but this is usually enough to wake me up." Faith wrung out the cloth and applied it to her face.

Stephanie laughed. "You're not already?"

"Sorry, should've said "clean my eyes". I get eye mucus pretty bad."

"Oh yeah. So you don't sleep well?"

"No. Even with my meds, it takes about three hours if I'm on my phone, which I usually am, just to watch a YouTube video." Faith folded the cloth, and set it on the edge of the sink. She walked out of the bathroom with Stephanie, towards the door to the hallway. "It takes two, or less, like, sometimes I'm asleep in the first half hour, if I'm really tired and just need background ambiance."

"What do you like to watch to help you sleep?" Stephanie asked, as Faith opened the door, the pair leaving the bedroom. Stephanie closed the door, and the girls went downstairs.

"People playing or talking about video games, horror analysis videos, be it about a movie, game or what have you, and now and then I'll watch something funny. I usually gravitate towards whatever SMOSH uploads I've missed."

"Oh yeah. You like their modern stuff?"

"I like their modern cast, yeah." The two crossed the open part of the hallway, passing the great hall stairs and nearing the reception room. "I think they're funny, and they seem friendly enough. Sometimes I watch a MARVEL movie on Disney+, or an episode of Young Justice, Justice League or Justice League: Unlmited on my TELETOON+ subscription through Amazon Prime."

The girls rounded the corner, to the right, walking through the servery to a narrow hallway, and taking the first door on the left to the kitchen. "Have you watched the Netflix Gotham show yet?"

"I watched two seasons, I think? I forget where I left off. I thought it was really good." Faith opened the door to the kitchen, Stephanie following and closing it.

"It was! Whatchu in the mood for?" They stood near the island.

"Good question, my stomach doesn't like eggs, but it does like hashbrowns and meat."

"How do you usually cook your eggs?"

"Uh, well-cooked? The yolk is hard. I flip it over to cook it."

"That's over-hard. Have you tried scrambled?"

"That's sort of how I make an omlette? It doesn't make a difference."

"Maybe your tummy just doesn't like eggs."

"Yeah, it doesn't like lactose or gluten, either."

"Well, that's a bummer."

"Gluten is more of just a pasta thing though. I feel bloated, and if it's not cooked all the way and I don't eat carefully, it gets stuck in my eusophagus and I have to puke so I can breathe again."

"Aw! Why do you eat like that, then?"

"'Cause I'm usually trying to get back to writing, or solely watching whatever I was watching."

"Ohhh, OK."

"Also yes, gluten and sugar are why I'm overweight."

Stephanie clicked her tongue. "Hey. Your weight is just fine, Faith."

"I mean, I guess it is, but my joints and feet don't like it. I can stand for even less time because of my weight."

"Hm. And I guess you don't work out because of your disability."

"Yep, that's the thing."

"Aw, that sucks. Well, we'll take it slowly with you, and we'll get you into a shape that works for you!"

Faith lifted her cheeks to smile. "Thanks."

"So, no egg?"

"Well, I do need the iron."

"Meat has iron."

"Honestly, with my anxiety today, anything I eat this morning might not stick with me."

"Ah, that's why your stomach doesn't like eggs, or breakfast, I'm guessing, in a more broad term."

"Yeah." Faith nodded.

"Well, you should still eat." Faith nodded more. "How about I do the cooking, and you do the dishes?"

"Sure!"

"OK, have a seat at the island." Stephanie said, walking to the fridge as Faith rounded the corner of the island.

"Yeah, no."

"'No', what?" Stephanie placed ingredients from the fridge on the counter.

"I can't sit here." Faith sounded stressed. "They're too tall, and they don't have backs. My back'll get sore, and I'll have anxiety from sitting high up."

"You know we're gonna work on that, right?"

"I know."

"Oh, who am I kidding? There's a little table set, over in the corner, baby." Stephanie obtained a frying pan from the cabinets.

"Oh yeah, I saw." Faith went and sat at the table.

Stephanie laughed, turning on the burner. "Why didn't you just go there instead of stopping to have a panic attack about the stools?"

"Because I always make things difficult for myself."

"I think you told me that before." Stephanie opened the butter plate and cut into the butter with a spatula, plopping it on the pan.

"Oh, probably. If not, you figure it out pretty fast, from knowing me."

"Yep." Stephanie turned and leaned her back on the counter as the burner heated up.

"Haven't watched Titans, and I think I'll keep holding off on that."

"Yeah." Stephanie and I laughed. "Do you have a favourite Batman or DC movie?"

"Ooh, honestly? I thought Matt Reeves' The Batman nailed what it was going for. It was nice to see Robert Pattinson have a role that he was good at, well, at least I think he was good at." Stephanie turned to move the melting butter on the pan. "Sure, you could argue he's missing the massive build that Batman has, but he got the eye expression and mannerisms pretty spot-on, and they actually wrote Batman to care for people, that time. I'm looking forward to the next one."

"Nice." Stephanie cracked two eggs on the edge of the pan, and opened their contents onto the butter, tossing the egg shells into a green plastic bin beside a wood panelled bin under the island.

"I haven't watched any other DC film besides the first Aquaman movie with Jason Momoa."

"Oh, OK." Stephanie stabbed one of the yolks, and reached into a cupboard for seasonings. "What seasonings do you like?"

"Garlic, and a little bit of seasoning salt."

"OK!"

"It wasn't bad, honestly. Yes, seeing a whore with no common sense made me wanna eat her intestines every time she was on screen,"

"Pffft, oh my God, Faith! Savage!" Stephanie was placing bacon on the pan.

"Oh, bacon?"

"Yeah, you don't like it?"

"I'm picky with it. Do you have something else? Like Canadian bacon, or sausages?"

"I think I saw sausages in there, yeah." Stephanie sealed the Ziploc bag that held the package of bacon, and went into the fridge. "Yep! How many do you want?"

"Two, please!"

"And how much hashbrown?"

"Oh, it's the cut up kind?"

"Yep. Is that OK?"

"Yeah! I usually buy the patties. Um, but go with about a quarter of a cup."

"Sure, baby." Faith exhaled happily, Stephanie watching her happy expression and smiling back before focusing on opening the Ziploc bag containing the package of sausages and placing two on the pan.

"But she could have been a worse actress. She did the minimum, but I know sure as fucking shit that Mera deserved better."

"That's for sure." Stephanie leaned her back against the counter, glancing at the pan.

"I think a new star with the same beauty and a lot more talent would've made all the difference."

"Oh, absolutely."

"But other than that, it was not a waste of my time. It scratched the itch I had of a decent underwater fantasy adventure, but the itch was still there."

"Ooh, nice way of putting it."

"I hear Lost Kingdom was a mess, and I don't wanna waste my time when I could read something on Tumblr or AO3 that would be so much better."

Stephanie laughed, and turned to flip the eggs and meat. "Do you mostly reblog DC and MARVEL stuff?"

"Mostly DC, and now and then a smut fic with the Call of Duty: Modern Warfare or 2023's Mortal Combat 1 men."

"Pffft!"

"I have a type, but I also don't. It depends on what the horny needs." I laughed.

Stephanie removed the food sealing clip from the bag of hashbrowns and shook its opening over the pan. "Sorry, but I'm eyeballing this."

"Oh no, that's fine, I do that too."

"I couldn't see what you were doing, after your shadow-spider-demon disappeared and there was a beam that came down from a cluster of really pretty stars," Stephanie turned to Faith as she replaced the clip on the bag. "Which, hey, um, why did it have tentacles?"

"Because I wanted tentacles. My Animus is a shapeshifting Neo Spirit."

"Right, OK." Stephanie put away everything into the fridge. "Are you still a virgin, though?"

"Yeah, it was just an illusion."

"Ah."

"You know how, when you hump something, for me it's my bed or maternity pillow,"

Stephanie choked on air. "Yeah."

"Your body like, really gets into the fantasy?"

"Mhm."

"It was like that, but it was me and the ground."

"Ah, OK. How did you not wake up while crawling out of the window à la Kayako into the cold snow when the sun was just barely rising and then scampering off I think almost 1000 feet away to then hump and not only melt the snowy ground, but burn it along with a bunch of trees?"

Faith laughed with Stephanie. "Expert-level Dreamer mages, really meaning you have the skills equivalent to twenty years of training, are able to be so entranced by their own spells that they won't wake up without outside interference. But, like with sleep-walking, you must only wake a Dreamer if they're about to harm themselves, another living being, or a residential building, or have already done so. The best way to do this is with your voice and gentle physical contact, though the latter may not be effective or safe for the interrupter, and the former may not be effective with a normal voice. This is one of the reasons that Dragon Kin who can use the Thu'um and merfolk who can use the Mother Chords are so useful in Thalassic Space."

"Ooh, so someone like you, or a mermaid?"

"Dragon Kin include Dragon Form, Dragon Skin and Dragon Born people. Each are self-explanatory. Merfolk are, too, but some are born directly from Mother Mermaid and are called Mother-Born, and some Dragon Kin are direct offspring from Father Dragon and are, of course, called Father-Born. I'm not either of them."

"Oh, OK. I was gonna ask, 'cause that sounds cool!" Stephanie turned off the burner, reached up into a cupboard for plates and down into a drawer for cutlery, and filled the plates with food. "Do you want juice, milk, no, sorry, no milk for you," Faith laughed. Stephanie chortled. "Or just water?"

"What kind of juice is there?"

"Uh, let's see." Stephanie looked in the fridge. "Orange, apple, and peach mango."

"Orange."

"Same." Stephanie grabbed the jug and placed it on the counter. "Do you want a big glass or a little one?"

"Eh, a little one." Stephanie located a tall glass and a short glass from the cupboards, and filled them, then put the juice back. She brought the plates over, a fork on each plate, then the glasses of juice, Faith saying 'thank you' each time. "Wow, you've got really good table manners."

"For that part." Faith said, cutting the burnt pieces of egg away with her fork as Stephanie sat in a chair across from her. "Everything else I take after my dad, R-I-P."

"Pfft." Stephanie cut into her egg, and ate it. "So you eat like a redneck?"

"I eat like I'm in a hurry, again because I've got things to do,"

"Mhm."

"And because of my little arms and how I can move my wrists," Faith put down her fork and touched the area of her forearm above her wrists on the underside of her arms with the pinkie and ring finger of both hands. Stephanie's jaw opened. "I sometimes make messes when moving things. Even at work, that's how I drop stuff. Plus, having small hands." Faith cut into her egg, this time to eat it.

"I see." Stephanie chuckled, eating more egg. "What does that feel like?"

"It feels like I'm pulling on a muscle. My wrists are little sore, now, but it's not bad." Faith shook out her hands, and massaged the underside of her forearms.

"Are you flexible elsewhere?" Faith scooted back her chair, held her left foot with her right hand, and held it up to her head, her back barely having shifted. "Damn! Not bad."

"Yeah, my leg ain't straight, but it can go there."

"Nice. So really, the only issues here are your hypotonia, scoliosis, and your weight."

"No, my deformed feet, too."

"Right. I saw, when you were walking around naked. It looks painful."

"Only when I walk for too long, or I bump it against something."

"Right, I think you said that in the group chat." The two were silent, for about ten seconds. "Oh, how does your Fairy Persona work? 'Cause your Mermaid Persona works with your magic pearl, right?"

"Yep! Do you remember her name?" Faith drank some juice, then began eating her sausages.

Stephanie paused, chewing bacon. "I don't think you said that, in the group chat."

"Oh yeah. It's Ønske. And my Fairy Persona is named Solas."

"Ønske. What's that mean?"

"Desire."

"Ooh. Does they have their own stories, like your Dragon Persona?"

"Solas was earned by my demigoddess self after she saved some people for Danu, the Celtic Fairy Queen. Sunrise coloured wings until a new moon, then black and sparkly.”

Stephanie hummed with a mouth full of food, and swallowed to talk. “Cool!”

“And Ønske’s story is Anastasia, but in Thalassic Space."

Stephanie gasped. "I love that movie!"

"Honestly, who doesn't? Losers, that's who."

"Real."

"People who don't like musicals."

"True."

"And probably some guy named Daren."

"Ha! Some guy named Daren, ha ha!"

"No offense to my uncle Daren, he's a nice guy, I'm talking about the neckbeard Daren."

"Mhm."

Faith rested her fork, still in her hand, on the plate, just before she move onto the hashbrowns. She looked into Stephanie's eyes, making the other pause. "Do you want me to try and tell Ønske’s story, or is that enough for now?" Faith released her fork, and drank juice.

"Yes! Yes, I want to know the story, hee hee hee." More of a cackle than a giggle. Stephanie stabbed some hashbrowns and ate them. Faith giggled at Stephanie's cackle. "Ønske was born on planet Bafsina, meaning 'basin' in Neofom." She began to eat hashbrowns, too.

"What's that?"

"Oh, I think I only told this to Bruce, so I'll say it again. Man, I hope the others read the lore from TSRPG so I won't have to say this a third time. You know the rule for repeating exposition, in stories, right?"

"Yep! Three times is the max, unless you want your readers to get annoyed and bored."

"Unless it's for comedic affect."

"True."

"Neofom is the language of Neo Spirits, who are the opposite of Nero Spirits, who speak Nerobzal, and originate from the Suspensions of a person's Soul Bridge, while Nero Spirits are from the Underside. They represent self-love, dreams, and good memories, and again, Nero Spirits are the opposite."

"And you said your Animus is a Neo Spirit?"

"Yes. My Shadow would be a Nero Spirit. My Ego, which is just me, is the Canon Spirit."

"Oh, so the Map of the Soul is part of the lore, too?"

"Yeah, it helps to explain what everything is in terms that people would be more familar with."

"Who are 'people'?"

"The future readers of my novels."

"Ohhhh, oh, of course, sorry."

"It's fine." Faith chuckled. "Oh, I should say, though, since Bruce is definitely listening right now,"

"Yep."

"Argophael was speaking Nerobzal."

"He was?"

"Yes, but in character, because we were role-playing."

"Oh, OK. So Neo and Nero Spirits know each other's languages."

"Yes, and there's a petty rivalry over which is more natural for the Soul Bridge born Spirits of Thalassic Space to speak. As a reminder, and please repeat this to everyone, when anyone is doubting if I'm doing this to torment people, or if the Spirits are actually in control: the characters of Thalassic Space, meaning those named in the novel, are all Actors of the Rondo Theatre, and some come from the other eight Theatres that are run by the other muse children. All of us are friends and colleagues, and most of us are dead, in a coma, or are lucid dreaming. The only person, right now, who could potentially ruin the Theatres and their Actors is Ra's."

"Right. I'll remember that, Faith, thanks." Faith nodded. "Can you run me through the alphabet of each language, if that's not too complicated?"

"Sure! It's just a letter substitution language. Each has twenty-six letters, like the English alphabet. Rule number one: when writing and speaking either language, if you would repeat a translated letter, you do not write or speak the second letter, and put an apostrophe in the place of the second, and speak a light exhale, like," Faith vocalised a short exhale through her mouth. "Which you would right out as h, if you were to substitute the apostrophe for a letter." Stephanie mimicked the exhale. "Yes, just like that."

"Cool!"

"Rule number two: when reading or speaking either language, keep the tone of the word in English while merging the pronunciation of the translated letter, unless it conflicts with the tone of the syllable in the translated language. For example, mommy and daddy in Neofom is mam-ot-mam'-yab af-nad dafd-dyab. Note how the translated words now have more syllables, as we are wanting to speak each translated letter, secondly, that the expected e sound associated with the letter y becomes the translated letter entirely, which is common but not always applicable, hence why we keep in mind the tone of the word in English to guide how we speak a translated word, and third, that the accent and pace becomes breathy, slowed, and romantic, in the case of Neofom, or intimidating, in the case of Nerobzal. This is also meant to evoke memories of the bonds between Neofom and Neo Spirits, and Neofom when used in Elevifeb spells, as it is with Nerobzal and Nero Spirits, and Nerobzal when used in Eledisfeb spells.”

"I think you lost me, there."

"Oh, that's fine. It's in the planning document. I think the only people in the group that this will be interesting to are Bruce and Tim."

"Yeah." Stephanie laughed with Faith.

"So, for Neofom: af, spelled a-f, in reference to the word after, b, c, d, e, ph (fuh), spelled p-h, pronounced like the Vietnamese pho, again referencing the word after," Stephanie hummed. "G, ho, 'cause Santa, and yes, spelled h-o," Stephanie giggled. "K, la, chosen because it's a melodic word, ma, associated with motherhood, na, sounds like the babble of a baby, ot (oht), spelled o-t, and you say the o like a Skyrim Nord, not aught,"

Stephanie giggled more. "Not aught, OK."

"And chosen because the English word it sounds like, oat, of course, is associated with deities of agriculture, p, q, r, si (sigh), not see, because when you first come to the North Pole, you will sigh in relief that you are literally in the safest place in the galaxy,"

Stephanie hummed. "Wow, two Santa Claus references."

Faith giggled. "I dunno if I told you this, or Bruce, or none of you, but Santa is one of the eldest three Astral and Ebony Giant Elves, specifically an Astral Giant Elf. Do you know who Nerobzal is?"

"Yeah, he's the big bad of Thalassic Space, right?"

"Yes. Do you remember what his angel name was?"

"Uh. Uh."

"I'll take that as a no. It was Erophael, like ey-ro."

"Erophael. And your Animus is Argophael."

"Yes. Do you know what Argo was, in Greek Mythology?"

"Uh. No." Stephanie heaved a laugh. "I'm so sorry!" She swallowed the last of her hashbrowns, and drank more juice.

"Oh, it's fine. It was a ship built with the help of the gods that Jason and the Argonauts sailed from Iolcos to Colchis to retrieve the Golden Fleece. Part of the main novel is supposed to be an analogy of that because Thalaassic Space has pirates, and the captain who sails some of the main characters from Canada to England has a similar life story." Faith finished her meal. "Her deadname was Jason." Faith chuckled.

Stephanie laughed. "Oh, OK. Cool! Are there lots of trans and gender-queer people in your stories?"

Faith nodded. "Oh yeah, lots of 'em."

"Is ero Greek, too?"

"It has multiple meanings. In Creek, it means squirrel. In Esperanto, it means 'a bit, a single element, piece or component of a large mass or collection'. And in Finnish, it means 'difference, distinction,' is an ellipsis of avioero, meaning 'divorce', and also 'resignation, discharge, dismissal, separation, parting, and rid'. All relevant to who Erophael was, and became as Nerobzal."

"Huh. Wow, that's really well-thought out."

"Honestly, I typed out something that sounded like Argophael, and then I discovered it meant all those things, so I've kept it."

"Is that how you come up with everything?"

"Yep!"

Stephanie went limp in her chair, jaw open. Faith laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, most of the lore is me picking up a random thing from either Norse, Greek or Egyptian mythology, and rarely Buddhism and ancient Chinese mythology, even though Vishnu and the Four Symbols are most powerful, I don't actually have much fleshed out for them. I see if it fits, and try again if it doesn't. I usually get it right on the first or second try. And I connect things as I go, taking inspiration from my actual dreams and from all the media that I like, all so that people can both find familiar things and new things when they discover Thalassic Space."

"That is brilliant and so fucking cool, Faith!"

"Thank you! Uh, where was I? Oh! ut (ooht), like in root, v, wa (wah), like the baby from the "Look at the little baby" asdfmovie,"

"Wah!" Stephanie giggled.

"Wah!" Faith giggled. "X, yl (yihl), z."

"Mm, no footnotes for yl? Also, I wanna see all this written out, so I can see it in my mind."

"Yeah, nothing to note about yl. Also, uh, sure, I didn't bring my phone with me, though."

"I did! Here, lemme give you my Notes app." Stephanie produced her phone, unlocked and interacted with it, and offered it to Faith.

"Thank you."

"Mhm!" Faith typed on the phone. She set it down on the table.

"Ohhh, OK, I see. You even typed out the other language, and labelled them for me."

"As you can see, for Nerobzal: az (ahz), which doesn't have lore relevance but is supposed to sound like Black Speech from The Lord of the Rings,"

"Hell yeah!"

"Bz, which is literally part of the word-slash-name Nerobzal, c, d, e, phz, the sound of insect demons, collectively called The Hive, and is where lots of the rape porn comes from,"

"Eugh."

"Yeah, as a monster fucker, I actually fear infestation. The phallic parts I'm OK with, but they're always too big, and then there's the whole nesting part, and I just," Faith shuddered with her whole upper body. "Nope. No thank you. Sex is not supposed to be painful or life-endangering, much less non-consensual."

"Damn right."

"Next is g, hz, again, insect noise, k, lab, mam, nan, all three are Black Speech inspired, oz, which, if you say awz instead of ohz, fuck you," Faith said, casually. Stephanie guffawed. "P, q, r, sr (sir), which is relevant lore-wise because sometimes Nero Spirits call the Four Princes of Hell Sir or Sire instead of Master or Prince, t, uz (ooze), which evokes images of plague, relevant because of the undead of Nerobzal's army, also insect demons again, because ew," Stephanie made a vomiting noise. "V, wz (whz), meant to remind of the wicked voice of the Domain of Platonia, somewhere between a whisper and a rumble, x, yab, Black Speech inspired again, and z."

"Wow! That's cool! Thanks for the big, fun lesson, he he."

"You're welcome! You now know a little more about the chaos in my brain, yippee!" Faith mimicked the meme.

"Yippee!" Stephanie echoed. The girls giggled.

"And, uh… oh. Oh, we got here because you wanted to know the story of my Mermaid Persona, and then I was also gonna tell you Solas' story."

"Oh yeah, right." Stephanie laughed, Faith joining.

"You can do that later." Bruce said, stepping into the room. "You wasted almost ten extra minutes, just talking about lore, and we have to get to the Belfry."

"Whoops!" Faith said. She moved her eyes to Stephanie. "Later."

"Yes, later. Let's go." The girls put the dishes in the sink, Stephanie running water over them, then they exited the mansion with Bruce. Faith stared, mouth wide open, as the three walked to the black 2024 Rolls-Royce Spectre.

"Have you ever been in a car like this?" Bruce asked, a little smile on his face.

"You mean one that probably costs at least half a million?" Faith replied.

"Yes, actually, it was over half a mil'."

"No, never."

"Hm, well. Do you want to ride in the front?"

"Yes, please." Faith said. Stephanie giggled, and entered the right back door as Bruce and Faith entered the driver and passenger doors.

The Spectre slowed as it rolled into the Belfry and came to a stop and its ignition was killed. Stephanie quickly left the vehicle and opened the passenger door while Bruce exited at a normal pace and walked ahead. Faith's laughter echoed in the garage as Stephanie helped her out. Faith stumbled, and Stephanie, already holding her arm, snapped her other hand to support Faith's back.

"Is she OK?" Dick chuckled, as Bruce stopped at the computer screens, where Dick, Barbara and Tim had gathered, Barbara giggling along.

"Oh, just ask her." Bruce said. Stephanie guided Faith for a few strides, then released Faith. She was still laughing as the girls came to the others.

"YOU GUYS GO THAT FAST ALL THE TIME?!" Faith said, laughing. The others laughed. "I mean, I guess you do, with all the stuff you do on the rooftops, but holy unsprayed cat in a crate," More laughter from the others. "That was insane, and really fun!"

"We were running late because Faith decided to yap about the languages of Thalassic Space, and almost was going to yap about the stories of her Fairy and Mermaid Personas, which is what she was originally going to yap about." Bruce said.

"I'm still kinda confused on the rules, but Faith just confirmed to me how friggin' cool and smart she is." Stephanie laughed.

"Thanks." Faith giggled.

Tim said, "Yeah, I read, like, everything in your planning document, and you were super thorough with every possible detail, but all of it was easy to understand. Well, at least to people who can see the whole picture as you describe every last detail."

"Thank you! Yeah, big brains are who Thalassic Space was made for."

"Oh, it shows."

"I bet the rules of the languages made sense to you immediately."

"Oh yeah, that was easy to understand. And I mean that as a compliment." Tim said. Faith nodded.

Dick said, "You ready to start, Faith?" Faith nodded more. "Awesome." He gestured with a hand for Faith to follow him and Barbara to a more open part of the room. "First things first: stretching."

"She's actually kind of flexible!" Stephanie said. "She can touch her head with her foot, if she holds it."

"Oh?" Dick said, eyes returning to Faith.

"Not standing up, yet." Faith laughed. Barbara chuckled.

"Well, that'll make things a little easier, even if you can't do it while standing, yet. Still, this is day one, so we're just going to see what you can and cannot do, and do some exercises together. If you feel like it, we'll show you a few moves. We'll get to making you stronger and faster as the days roll on, 'kay?"

"OK!" Said Faith.

Faith dropped onto the couch on the upper level of the Belfry with a cold, wet rag on her forehead, wiping it around her face and neck, the pits and neckline of her shirt wet with perspiration, her chest heaving but slowing down. Barbara sat beside her, and Dick beside Barbara, Stephanie taking a seat on the arm of the couch to the right of Faith, Tim and Bruce standing in front of the couch. The sun was beginning to dim. Bruce handed Faith a bottle of water. "Thank you." Faith said.

"You're welcome."

"You still feeling OK, hon?" Said Barbara.

Faith nodded. "Yeah. Still feels better, but also super strained."

Dick said, "You only fell from your knees popping five times."

"That's a lot for one day, much less a week."

"And hey, we caught you, the other eight times." Tim said. "And! No knee dislocations!"

"Woo hoo!" Faith raised her stiff, tired arms in celebration, only able to reach her forehead. "Ow."

"Woo hoo!" Tim raised his arms at the elbow. The group laughed.

"Like we said," Said Dick. "At some point, you should be able to carry on, despite whatever your body does. Even if that's to safety." Faith nodded. "But you did good, today! Really good!"

"Yeah!" Said Tim.

"You sure did, Faith." Barbara said.

"Yeah, that was kind of impressive, your legs obviously aren't weak right now, you've just got a situation." Stephanie said.

"If you keep this up, it shouldn't be long before you'll able to go out with us." Said Bruce. Faith smiled with her cheeks. "How's that sound?"

"Sounds great! Thanks, everyone."

"You're welcome."

"You're very welcome!" Said Dick.

"We're here for you, hon." Barbara said.

"Heck yeah!" Said Tim.

"Always, baby." Stephanie said.

"'Baby'?" Repeated Tim, with a chuckle.

"What? I told you I'd pick her up, if she wanted." Stephanie said. Faith giggled.

"Yeah, you did." Tim, Dick, Barbara and Faith laughed.

"I brought your bag in the car, Faith." Said Bruce. "I thought you might want to stay here, so we don't have to bring you back and forth."

"Oh, perfect. Thanks, Bruce." Bruce hummed.

"I'll get it out for you and bring it up here, and then I think I'll head out."

"Thank you." Bruce nodded, then walked to the stairs to the lower level.

"All right, who's hungry?"

"C'est moi." Faith said, with a scoffed 'moi'. The group laughed.

"All right, you and me, Steph, let's get dinner out of the oven, and make a salad."

"OK!" Stephanie slid off the arm of the couch, and went with Tim.

"Shower time, miss Faith?" Barbara said, making eye contact.

"Yes, pliz." Barbara giggled, then rose to her feet, offering her hands to Faith. Faith accepted the help, and the two walked to one of the doors upstairs. Dick watched. Watched.

Hummed to himself. 'Babs has a perfectly formed ass, but Faith has a lot of ass. So much that it's part of her thighs, and mm, her thighs! Barbara's thighs are so, soooo good, don't get me wrong. And I'm not trying to say I'm going to jump into Faith-alley just for a taste, a feel. But I would. I totally would, if I wasn't trying to be loyal to Babs, for once, aaaand if she wouldn't beat the crap outta me.'

Bruce had ascended the Belfry and knocked on the bathroom door, giving Faith's dufflebag to Barbara, who closed the door afterwards, Bruce leaving for the stairs and his car.

'Barbara's got nice boobs, though.' Dick almost whistled, releasing the breath as an exhale instead. 'Hoo, that was close! Bab's got an even bigger personality, though, and a big mind and heart. I know her. She's just a beautiful, gorgeous woman.'

'Faith had a reduction for a very valid reason. I'm not saying I wish she hadn't had work done. I am curious to look at what she looks like, though. They bounce just as well as any other boobs do. She kept frowning at her legs and stomach, and Faith said she feels so bulky and bloated.'

'Babs told her that was OK, that it's a normal thing to feel that even she and Steph feel. It's a womanly experience, to do something and feel your body do something you don't like. Hell, even men feel that way, but in different places and with different thoughts behind the 'ick'. And Faith looked at her arms, and told us that she hated them 'cause it was taking more effort to connect hits with them. She has to lean and lunge for it to work, and right now, it's arguably her hardest task, aside from re-learning how to run and jump. But she'll get there. We all know that time is key, here. She's got a good attitude about it all, aside from that. She sure likes to make jokes.'

'Tim, Babs and I talked before Bruce, Steph and Faith got here. I'm sure Steph has realised this, too. I don't even need to think if Bruce has, I just know he has. But the reason Faith does it so frequently has to be her way to cope with anxiety. Her experience as a child who was told to stay in her room and be quiet, sometimes without toys or even permission to read or write. She had to sit and think until her mom came in, or called her out, and…' Dick sighed. 'All of us know what isolation like that is like.'

'I'm not saying we should steer her in the direction of using comedy less often, no, that's a part of her that we all enjoy, and she's not bad at comedy, either! She makes herself laugh because silence reminds her of that isolation, and she wants to make others laugh to try and make friends. It's not a stretch to think that's why she became a stortyteller, too. Friends; that's something we all know, including Faith, that she desperately needs. I think our strategy of not just going along with her jokes but guiding her back towards the relevant topic has been working out. And, while Faith was in the bathroom earlier, Bruce said that in a casual conversation where she isn't using laughter she might say something really out of nowhere that might hurt our feelings, and respond to that being called out with anger. I don't think so. Neither does Tim, Barbara or Stephanie.'

'Tim and I think she would freeze up and be unable to even apologise, but her face will say everything, and Babs thinks the frozen state will have a break, but her face will stay the same, except for her eyes, and she'll say 'sorry' then. Stephanie said Babs had taken the words right outta her mouth. That made sense to Tim, Bruce and I, too. Bruce told us what she did, around 5 AM. Hoo, wanna talk about someone who needs Zatanna as a tutor! And I mean that respectfully. She has Sagittarius A, a black hole for her left eye, and the O-type star from her now non-fictional galaxy for her right eye, if she uses, I think, her demigoddess powers! That's just wicked cool!'

'Sure, she burned some of the forest near the mansion, but as a creation dragon, she could have reversed the damage, right? And we haven't even seen her use the black hole, yet! All of us agree that, if Faith can be taught to control when and how much she uses her magic, and gets her strength back plus whatever else we can give her, she'll be golden! And that's really, really exciting. All of this is probably on her mind too. She'll be counting on us to remind her of it, until she won't need it, or at least as often.'

'Let's be honest, it'll be the latter. And that's OK. We all know that the past isn't something you can just leave behind. We carry it in different ways. Faith carries it in her heart, and is trusting enough to share it with others, as is in great need of doing so. She's a wonderful fit into the team.'

Dick sighed, Ra's face and retellings of his actions flashing into Dick's mind. 'I sure hope all of this will be enough to tell him to leave her the hell alone. If not, and he actually kills her in that one way, we're all going to be in deep trouble. We talked about who could summon which unicorn, too. It's one hundred percent possible to stop Red Storm Earth before the one hour mark, hell, the ten minute mark. But I have a sinking feeling that it won't be that easy. And I don't even know why. Tim doesn't either, and he read all of the lore.'

'Oh. It's that Ra's could use Platonia again, right? Is that how he entered Faith's dream? That led to her Animus leaving the dream world to defend her, among other things. I'm sorry, are we sure that was an illusion? It probably was just an illusion, Dick.'

'Platonia recognises Ra's as a demon, not a human, so after the first time he passed through, and found Faith's dragon tomb, it stopped trying to eat him. And, if he has a Nero Persona, it sounds like we're royally screwed. The Invitation of Nerobzal sounds just as scary as Red Storm Earth, even if it works differently. I have to make the comparison that I know everyone else has probably made: Faith is like Raven, in that if things aren't under control, things will be really bad. Could we even prevent all of that? Could Faith prevent all of that? We were going to ask her, during dinner. I bet there's lore that Faith hasn't written down, yet. She should write it down, and some more, so it's all there and Ra's can't cheat. Or cheat again.'

Dick's eyes were drawn to the bathroom door as it opened. He drew in and held a breath as he beheld Faith: her hair was very curly and voluminous, although the lower half was mostly still wet, and, bra-less, Dick could make out what her boobs were like, better than he had before. She had changed into black shorts and a purple short-sleeved shirt. 'Damn! Oh my God, her legs are so yummy looking.'

Barbara cleared her throat. Dick closed his mouth and blinked, making eye contact with her. "Sorry." He said to Faith, "Sorry."

She giggled. "You're fine with me, I'm too tired to sing Ashnikko lyrics right now."

Barbara said, "Pffft."

"And I'm not the probably slightly angry redhead." Faith walked to the stairs.

"Oh wow! Would you look at that!" Barbara said, approaching the couch, Dick swiftly standing up. "That would be me!"

"I swear that my eyes are the only thing that will go anywhere near her, Barbara."

"Oh, good! I'd hate to have to punish you for infidelity." Barbara patted Dick's upper chest. Dick just nodded. He followed her downstairs and to the table.

They heard Faith cheering, Stephanie echoing her and Tim laughing at them. Dinner was ready. Barbara sat at the left head, next to Tim, Stephanie at the right head, Faith occupying the chair to her left. Dick had three options: take the empty chair beside Tim, and play it safe but always have to look at Faith when he raised his head, or sit beside Faith, and accept Barbara's challenge. 'Oh, hell.' Thought Dick.

He sat beside Faith, who had her right foot crossed over her left thigh. She looked at him, her hair thankfully too wet to graze his arm, and she smiled with her cheeks at him. He returned the smile, then Faith sighed, looking at the meal before them. They were having chicken wings, salad and baked potatoes. Dick looked at Tim, who made an expression with one side of his face, looking at Barbara. Dick looked at Barbara, who rested her chin on the back of her hands, elbows on the table, and flashed a smile at him as they made eye contact. 'Oh boy.'

Barbara mouthed, 'I love you.' And scrunched up her eyes, smiling.

'I love you too.' Dick mouthed back, and smiled, his eyes failing to get with the program, blinking for help to the ceiling instead.

Barbara parted her lips to respond when Faith said, "Man, ya'll didn't think to get fixings for the baked potatoes?" There was only butter. No ranch dressing or sour cream, and no cheese, green onions or bacon bits. Stephanie wheezed a laugh.

"Sorry, we were on a budget." Tim said.

"Fair enough. Still, my dad would be sad." Faith giggled. Stephanie and Barbara laughed.

"OK, well, dig in!" Said Tim. Faith unfurled her leg onto the ground with a thud, and used her hands to move four chicken wings onto her plate. Tim laughed. "You know there's tongs, right?"

"Yeah, but this is faster." Faith said, while the others began to fill their plates. "Also, I don't care. I'm not putting them back, and I didn't lick my fingers or touch a dog or cat, or have a dog or cat lick my hands, and I just got out of the shower." Faith took a bite, the others laughing.

Dick thought, 'I guess she's also just a natural comedian. I'm sure she's learned how to be this funny, but it's still a good part of her personality.'

"OK, all right." Tim said. "Are you gonna scoop the salad with your hands, too?"

"No! What am I, a dog in a sweater controlled by a human?" More laughter from the group. Faith reached over the table. The group started to chuckle. Her arms were short by about a foot. "May I please have the salad?" Faith said, chuckling. Barbara and Stephanie giggled with her.

Dick laughed and said, "Sure." He moved his plate a little to make room for the bowl, then Faith used the salad tossers to put salad on her plate.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Dick moved the bowl back. Faith picked up the chicken wing she had started. She stared at the wall for one second, and the next second, she tucked in her lips and her cheeks became red. "Uh-oh. What are you thinking, miss Faith?"

"I'm not a dog in a sweater," Faith's sentence devolved into wheezing laughter. "Controlled by a human." She pointed at Tim. "Silent Hill 2."

"Oh God." Tim said. Faith laughed. "The dog ending." The others laughed.

"I'm gonna write in the planning document that the next time Ra's goes into Platonia, it shows him the Door of Nonsense and triggers that ending, but the credits all say names of the Batfamily."

"Oh-ho-kay!" Tim laughed with the others.

"A-ha-and," Faith sniffled. "When he exits, the door will keep cycling him through different horror and JRPG titles until he demands to go home." She giggled, and bit into the chicken wing she held.

"OK, hon!" Said Barbara, the others laughing a little.

Tim asked, "Do you have any ideas on how to cut Ra's out of Thalassic Space that would work long term?"

"Mm, besides the Invitation of Nerobzal? We all know he won't agree to have the Departed take his memories and knowledge of Thalassic Space." Tim and Barbara hummed in agreement. "But if Ra's doesn't find out about the ritual, which is the only other disaster-level event he could learn about and trigger that I implemented in the lore so that zombies and demons felt more natural and important to the possible events of Thalassic Space,"

"It fits nicely." Said Barbara.

"Thank you. Uh, yes, I have one other idea, but it's not in the planning document."

"What's your idea?"

"I would commission the Father Born and Mother Born to hunt him non-lethally, and not only remove that information from him but program his brain to ignore it and deny it as true, no matter what methods he or others may try to use to restore it." The others hummed in interest, Faith taking another bite of her chicken wing.

"That sounds like it could work. You should write it down." Barbara said. Faith nodded.

"How would you convince the Father Born and Mother Born to help you?" Dick asked.

"I would give them each a treasure or sexual pleasure, or assist them in other ways, in exchange for this. I wrote down the names of the current Father Born and Mother Born somewhere."

"Yeah, it's not in the document." Tim said.

"I think it's currently exclusively in a story called Realm of Album, in which I'm summoned to help the Mages Guild there because the elf king is having problems that only a Jester Playwright like me could help with." The group hummed in interest. "I can't remember their names, off the top of my head. I'll open the document later and tell you before I put them in the document, Tim."

"Sure, OK."

"Like I said, the idea isn't written down, but it would work because of how the Guilds serve the people, and that's why it would pass the legislation of At'fman Lawbzal."

"What's that?" Stephanie asked.

"It means 'Amen to the Fate of Man, Law of Beyond Zone Acceleration Lord'. The first clause-word is what people who worship the O-type star's spirit say while raising their right arm, then left arm, diagonally." Faith did this motion. "It's the 'Praise the sun' gesture from Dark Souls, but as steps of a contemporary jazz choreography." Barbara wheezed, choked on her food a little. "Da da da," Faith sang breathily, lowering her right, then left arm, the others laughing and Barbara drinking water from a glass. "Da da, da da." Faith ended the routine with her arms raised, two da's per arm. Faith rested her arms and took a second to eat again.

"The second clause-word reminds worshippers of the O-star's spirit that Nerobzal is not evil and is actually an Actor, who is so dedicated to and perfect for his role that he fools hateful people, who I'll just call Kaleido because it's accurate to the lore, into believing he's real and the true God, hence the 'Lord' part of the clause-word, and why he's called Hebzal, Himbzal and Hisbzal by Kaleido, who believe in a literal theatrical act. Other Actors, like Neo and Nero Spirits, call Nerobzal's Actor he, him and his because they're Actors, too. The idea is for the Neo and Nero Spirits to shock Kaleido time and again by using those those pronouns and revealing that he's just an Actor, discrediting their claims that Nerobzal is God." Dick and Barbara hummed with intrigue, and Stephanie hummed in awe. Tim hummed, nodding. "'Beyond Zone Acceleration' is a reminder that the magic Kaleido are using is from Sagittarius A, meaning it's Eledisfeb, and Kaleido want to use it for evil instead of to naturally balance out Elevifeb, because that's just how magic systems works, and ecosystems, hence why Kaleido are so crazy and unwilling to listen, just as radical right-wing people are."

"Oh OK," Stephanie said. "So, the politics in Thalassic Space that you're arguing for is left wing."

"Yes." Faith gave a firm nod.

"That makes sense."

"You can't be gay or an ally, much less dress alternatively, in particular goth, and be conservative."

"That's right!" Said Barbara. Tim hummed in agreement.

"It is the people who take advantage of the Actor's in-story powers as a Fallen Angel who are the enemy."

"Right." Dick said.

Faith started her second chicken wing. "Kaleido was chosen as the name that conquered the mostly vampire cult of Kitsch in northern Italy, which worshipped demons and Satan respectfully and safely, because the people who abuse and murder those who don't fit their expectations of a human and-or a Christian look into chapels of God through the kaleidoscope created by the painted glass often used in churches rather than looking at the Bible and recognising its merits and faults in modern times."

"Ohhh. I actually really like that."

"Thank you! That confusion and misdirected anger is what the Cult of Asherah was supposed to clarify so the crimes that have happened across time could be prevented. But the Yahwehists, all those years ago, proclaimed Asherah to be an idol and the people who served her idol worshippers. The career of prostitution has been bastardised by too many men and women for too long."

"That's true!" Stephanie said.

"Even in modern times, when prostitution makes a lot of money, it's not safe to be a prostitute." The others hummed and nodded. "So, I fixed that, in Thalassic Space." Faith bit off and chew more chicken. "The Thieves, Assassins and Mages Guilds all support and shelter prostitutes and those at risk, allowing the revived Cult of Asherah to educate people about safe sex and how to protect themselves and others from predators."

"Kitsch wasn't a malicious organisation until the Cànova siblings fulfilled the Fool's Promise, which is the part of the Fool's Poem that describes what happens to people who submit themselves to Nerobzal. It was just supposed to be directions for the makeup artists and costume designers of the Theatres in the Dream World on Paper to use for Actors. Magdalene and Malakai took it seriously, and they roped Mamazsr'azcre into it too." Faith looked at Dick, Barbara and Stephanie. "His name means 'massacre', in Nerobzal."

"Oh!" Said Dick.

"Grand Vampire Lady Brunetta heard Father Dragon shout it in the sky in the dream she had, the night she went into labour, and she and Grand Vampire Lord Müth interpreted it as a challenge to overcome, which he was doing until Magdalene and Malakai came to drag him into their plan to murder their parents and seize Kitsch. They didn't know why Müth and Brunetta were in the master bedroom and didn't fight back. The reason was hidden by the Four Symbols of Chinese astrology until the third incarnation of the O-star's spirit returned to Thalassic Space to help the people stop Kaleido once and for all."

"Oh!" Said Dick, as Faith ate more. "Sorry, are you the third incarnation of the O-star's spirit, and that's why you have it for your right eye, when you use your demigoddess powers?"

"Eh, sort of? I'll get there."

"No worries."

"Why were Brunetta and Müth vulnerable?" Barbara asked.

"Brunetta was pregnant while Magdalene and Malakai counselled with dark sorcerers to find a portal to the Lightless Realm, where Krampus used to reign over the Astral Elves and where the siblings discovered a copy of the Fool's Poem in Krampus' hut."

"Oh, that answers a question I had." Said Dick.

"Oh, good." Faith giggled. Dick chuckled with her. "So, if you're wondering, there's no way for Ra's to learn about what he's getting himself into, in my dragon tomb."

"He deserves to find out the hard way."

"I hear that, yep. Um, the flight of the Astral and Snow Elves from the Lightless Realm and Lightful Realm, which Santa used to reign, is a story for another time. Believe it or not, I can stay on topic, when it comes to my lore." The others laughed. "Brunetta had an intersex child named Maury, a derivative of Maurice, which means 'dark skinned', because they were the first and only Obsidian Infant, their body made from one of the Eledisfeb-filled asteroids of the asteroid belt to the west of Sagittarius A. Its existence was seen as proof that Sagittarius A was not a destructive astral object as it is in the Milky Way galaxy. There's an asteroid belt of Elevifeb-filled asteroids to the east of the O-type star, too, but I can't tell you who has the first Goshenite Child because spoilers."

Barbara said, "Wait, is it your demigoddess-slash-dragon self?" "Nope! It's a child born in The Double Eight of Thalassic Space, but it's not my child."

"Hm, all right."

"There's also lore about the Oracles finding out what Sagittarius A* actually is, thanks to Hirokou, a member of the Cloud Casters, seven students who met when they enrolled at Cedillo Imagination Magic Academy in Princess Georgina, which, yes, is UNBC, Prince George. The Cloud Casters volunteered and were chosen by the Oracles to help the third incarnation of the O-star's spirit feel more welcomed. Again, skipping the lore."

"Thank you." Said Tim. The group chuckled. "As simple and good as the reveal is, thank you for skipping it this time."

"Maury had been sensed by the Four Symbols upon his conception, and when they were born, had split them into four Crowns, which they gave to the Guilds to present to the people of Thalassic Space for them to hide until the third incarnation of the O-star."

"Where was um, Mamaz…?"

"Mam-az-sir-h-az-cre. There's an apostrophe after the translated s, so there's a short breath."

"Mamazsr'azcre."

"Yeah, you got it!"

Dick said, "Mamazsr'azcre."

"Yep!"

"I don't even need to try." Tim said.

"Yeah, I don't doubt that." Faith said. The group laughed.

"I'm gonna skip on that, thanks." Stephanie said. Faith giggled. "Mamazsr'azcre was helping his cat anthro friends, Dohannar and Wysherah, free anthros and elves from the human traffickers that Magdalene and Malakai had wriggled into, thanks to their vampiric charisma, before they got frustrated with certain human traffickers for being fake radical right wingers and decided to find the Fool's Poem to put everyone under their boots."

"Right." Said Tim. "Faith, why don't you eat for a couple minutes, and I'll take it from here?"

"OK, yes, thank you." Faith sighed. The group chuckled.

"No problem. Magdalene and Malakai started a fire on the farm that Mamazsr'azcre, Dohannar and Wysherah sheltered people at."

"Uh-oh!" Said Dick.

"Malakai disembowelled Wysherah, who was nine months pregnant."

"Holy smokes! That's just evil!"

"Magdalene and Malakai won a mixed magic and melee duel against Dohannar and Mamazsr'azcre, and as Dohannar laid unconscious, Magdalene whispered into her brother's ear the Fool's Poem. Mamazsr'azcre tore off his jaw and gouged his eyes as Magdalene and Malakai had."

"Eugh!" Said Stephanie.

"That's what the Fool's Promise demands of the living to accept Nerobzal's as their God. Before the siblings returned to Italy to kill their parents, Mamazsr'azcre gifted Dohannar's soul to Nero Ba'al Berith, a demon whose name means Lord of the Covenant. Like Baalzebub, he's called the Lord of Flies. Ba'al Berith is a red-skinned soldier in red who rides a red horse and wears a crown."

Faith said, "It was literally the decisions of two awful people that began the First War for the O-star’s Spirit."

"Yep. She was first incarnated as Nith, the first daughter of Santa Claus, born September 4th, 1949."

"Oh, that's your birthday!" Said Stephanie to Faith.

"Nith was murdered by Magdalene, disguised as a Glacial Fairy, at two days old." Dick, Barbara and Stephanie clicked their tongues and made noises of pity. "The Snow Elves, Astral Elves, Santa and Mary Claus cast a spell at the catacomb chapel of Kaleido, directly hitting Magdalene. Malakai was doing his thing, which I can tell you about next, and Mamazsr'azcre worked with dark sorcerers to grow and improve the army of undead, vampires and werewolves that festered in the catacombs of the chapel until the end of the Third War. The elves and anthros came together to form the Guilds under the command of Father Dragon and Mother Mermaid and the Father Born and Mother Born, after the first war, and their human allies helped them. The O-star's spirit was quietly reincarnated twenty years later as Eal Volen, the first child and daughter of a mermaid mage named Eerie Glory and an astral elf mage named Lanech (ech is pronunced ehk, like echo) Volen who worked at the circus at the southern harbour of England, together."

"Hey, circus mentioned!" Dick said. The group laughed.

"Eerie had been stalked by Malakai since her early teenage years, but she had known Lanech for even longer, and she never faced Malakai alone, in the dreams where Malakai tormented and raped whoever he wanted." Barbara, Dick and Stephanie sounded disgruntled.

"Sorry," Faith said. "It was the most natural way for me to make Malakai a horrible person. Same with Magdalene."

"No no, it's fine, it works well for him."

"How was Magdalene a horrible person, besides killing a two-day old baby?" Dick asked.

"She got off on watching people get kidnapped and tortured by human traffickers."

"Oh, geez!"

Tim said, "She was a control freak, just like Malakai. Both were racist, sexist, and homophobic. Faith wrote Thalassic Space so everyone would feel safe and welcome, but some people learned about the awful things that happen on Earth through Nero Spirits who watched criminals from Earth that visited the Dream World on Paper. It's like how Ra's found out how to open a Door to Platonia, and all that's led to Faith being here, and the situation we're in."

"Ohhhh, OK."

"I hope it makes sense." Faith said. “Nero Spirits relaying information that wouldn’t have been otherwise available to people through the functions of the Soul Bridge.”

"Oh, it does, absolutely. You did a good job with that."

"Yeah, that's good writing, Faith."

"Thank you."

Tim said, "The Oracles were afraid of Malakai because he effortlessly and brutally manipulated Dreamer mages who were close to the power of the Oracles, many of them family members of the Oracles. Faith wrote a bit more about the crimes of Malakai, but we'll skip that for now. Eal was in the arms of Eerie after the circus had closed, Malakai having taken the disguise of a large black dog, and he leapt up with such force and speed to bite Eal's neck that neither Eerie or Lanech could react in time."

Barbara clicked her tongue. "Aw! No!"

"May I ask why the O-star's spirit died as a baby, twice?" Dick said.

"Yeah, yeah." Faith said. "Because babies are vulnerable. That's it."

"Oh OK, so it's a simple thing, this time."

"Yes."

Tim said, "Eerie and Lanech tore Malakai apart, each destroying a quarter of his spirit with their magic, but the other half of his spirit and his entire soul escaped to the Ninth Circle of Inferno, joining his sister and the demon they were actually giving souls to: Canon Lucifer."

Faith said, "If Ra's triggers either event, that's who the souls will be working to free from the ice."

"Oh shit." Said Stephanie.

"Yeah, that's bad." Dick said.

Faith said, "And why either has to be stopped as soon as possible."

"Right." Said Dick.

Tim said, "Specifically, the number of souls needed is 8^8 (eight to the power of eight), which is 16, 777, 216. In the First War for the O-star's Fate, 1, 809, 178 people were killed in the span of one month, two weeks and two days, though the ice barely melted, and the souls were freed to the afterlife of the 28 Mansions at its end."

"Oh OK, so it resets."

"Yes, it has a twenty-year cooldown, which coincides with how long it takes the O-star's spirit to reincarnate. In the Second War for the O-star's Fate, 2, 391, 955 people were killed over the course of two months and three days, and the ice melted a little more, but Lucifer still could not move, and the souls again were freed to the 28 Mansions. This won't be an issue, if he triggers Red Storm Earth or the Invitation of Nerobzal."

"Scary." Said Barbara. The others nodded.

"The third and current incarnation of the O-star's spirit—"

"That's you, right?" Said Dick, looking and pointing at Faith. She and Tim shook their heads. "Oh."

"It's Faina Laward, one of my Soul Fragments. She's autumn, I'm winter, Solas, my Fairy Persona, is spring, and Ønske is summer."

Dick said, "Oh, OK wait. So, your memories have like, fragments, and that's how your Personas are connected to you, and how you have the O-star as your right eye?"

"Yes."

"Ohhh-kay. Cool."

Barbara asked, "Why are you winter, and not autumn, if you're the Canon Persona?"

"I'm winter because of my depression and mental health, and that my physical disability means I can't enjoy the outdoors. Faina is autumn because she's my memories of having a working body and my hopes of having a happy mind."

"Ohhhh." Said Barbara, Dick and Stephanie. Tim nodded.

"Solas and Ønske are both seasonal expressions of the joys I associate with each season. Solas is my lesbianism, and Ønske is my desire to have adventure." Faith said. Stephanie giggled. "Faina was born on Earth because the Four Symbols realised she would be killed again if born on Yotutrnaeyl. She's summoned by Dohannar to the Dream World on Paper instead of to the throne of Nero Ba'al Berith, who is one of her possible love interests, as Dohannar and the Demon Hunters who patrol the Perimeter of the Circles finally met after eighty-three years of trying to free Dohannar so the O-star could fight for the people again instead of for evil. That dream is the first chapter of the novel, and in the second chapter, Faina settles in to CIMA, meets the Cloud Casters, and falls in love with Karma Brestin, who, major spoiler alert,"

"Ohp!" Dick covered his ears, then laughed and lowered them. The others laughed.

"Karma is the youngest of Bartholomew's triplets."

"Oh, she's an Astral and Ebony Giant Elf?"

"Yes, an Ebony Giant Elf, like Bartholomew is. Krampus is an Ebony Giant Elf, too. Santa is the only Astral Giant Elf, of Nerobzal's sons. Bartholomew's triplets and Krampus' twins are mixed race. Karma is a dark mage, not to be mistaken for a dark sorcerer,"

"Ah, OK."

"And it's olive green to signify that she's not evil. Earth tones are always a good sign. It's the neon colours you have to be scared of."

"Right, OK."

"Karma is also a vampire, and the companion star of the O-star."

"Huh?"

Tim said, "O-type stars have smaller, companion O-stars that orbit until eventually merging with the larger star, creating a bigger and brighter star."

"Ooh, OK. Does that happen when they meet, or later?"

"Later, when they hook up." Faith laughed. The others joined. "The Third War starts because Mamazsr'azcre is commanded to lead an attack on CIMA by Nero Ba'al Berith, but it goes too far, and a lot of students and teachers die. Sorry, spoilers."

"Sheesh, woman!" Dick said. The group giggled.

"And, uh, I think that's all the lore you need to know, regarding every branch of the main topic? Whatever it was."

"We started when Stephanie asked what At'fom Lawbzal was." Said Tim.

"Ohhh, right!"

"It was more 'the main topic and its family relatives'."

"Yeah." Faith said. They all laughed.

Dick said, "Well, thanks for all of that! Always fun to learn more."

"Oh yeah." Barbara said, nodding.

"And I get to eat the ass of this creative genius!" Stephanie said, the others laughing loudly. "Lucky me!"

"Real. Real." Faith said. The laughter quieted down. In the next two minutes, everyone had finished eating and washing their food down, and wiping their hands on napkins or getting up to use the kitchen sink.

"Well, you going to sleep right away, Faith?" Barbara asked, as Tim and Dick began washing the dishes.

"I think so." Faith said, yawning.

""Sleep", in quotation marks." Stephanie said with a smile, coming up behind Faith and squeezing her left ass cheek.

"Aa!" Faith exclaimed, and laughed with the girls. "Are you that spicy, baby gorl?"

"Mm, yuh," Stephanie replied. Faith and Barbara laughed, Tim choking out a laugh from the kitchen. "Yuh, I'm real spicy righ' now, gorl. Mm, le'go."

"Le'go." Faith echoed. "Goodnight, everyone!" She and Stephanie began towards the stairs.

"Goodni-ight." Said Barbara, walking towards the computer.

"Goodnight, Faith!" Said Dick.

"Don't worry about the noise, OK?" Said Tim. Faith giggled.

Click emoji to navigate to next chapter. ⏭️

[onebizarrekai]

❓ FAQ ◇ 🎨 Art Tag ◇ ✏️ AO3

recurring fandoms ::: mcyt ◇ legend of zelda ◇ …others WORKS ::: isaac beamer versus the supernatural ◇ kcu inactive works ::: dreamswap ◇ greyscale ◇ dintis discontinued works ::: meme waker ◇ driftverse

Details:

🌟 Isaac Beamer Versus the Supernatural - Written work

A plot-heavy comedy. With a large cast of characters, IBVS is a mostly-original work that evolved from an idea for an Undertale Multiverse story conceptualized back in 2016. It centers around the unusual activity that occurs in the fictional city of Foxfield, California. Edward Quinton, the 'school king' of Foxfield High who secretly harbors mysterious powers, discovers a social outcast with his same supernatural predicament: the titular character, Isaac Beamer. Edward, motivated to form a secret club of others like them, goes down a path that changes their lives for the better or worse. The two of them make friends along the way… and enemies. Curiosity just may lead them straight to hell itself. Last updated June 8th 2024.

🔪 Kagehara Cinematic Universe - Written works, mostly

An incredibly niche fic series where I rip apart everyone’s derogatory favorite Danganronpa V3-inspired fan character, featuring lucid dreams, existential crises, depression and kissing your idiot hot inner demon. The character list has increased significantly since it started, featuring counterparts for other V3 characters as well. Last updated August 2022.

🗡 Dreamswap - Open Setting, No Ongoing Story

An ‘AU’ based on the UTMV outcodes. It originally got its name from being centered around Dream and Nightmare switching roles. Other other characters have also technically switched roles, but at this point, the swap thing is basically obsolete due to the convoluted nature of the lore. A comedy-heavy setting despite its themes. This was being adapted into a separate story called Fatal Flaws.

❤️  Greyscale - Comic (Stopped)

An Undertale comic about two humans with drastically different ideas on how problems should be solved who end up in the Underground at the same time and have to work together to make their way through it. Went on hiatus in 2019. Any comebacks would be a complete rework.

🌙 Darkness Is Nicer Than It Seems - No Ongoing Story

Forced into the role of a hero, Dark has been at odds with his power-hungry childhood companion Jet for a long time, but he decides that continuing to fight him is not worth it anymore. A Dreamtale alternate timeline. Its tag is #dintis.

❌  Meme Waker (Discontinued) - Comic

A parody of Zelda: Wind Waker featuring various Underverse characters as characters from the original game. Please note that the link may not work on mobile due to being set to a chronological tag. The last comic strip was in 2018.

🌓 Driftverse (Also Discontinued) - Comic

An interactive story dedicated to Nightmare and Dream, except they were combined into one person and they had no idea how. A post was released explaining the remainder of the story. The last comic strip was in 2019.

If you’re looking for some of my old works that are not on Ao3, feel free to check out the #fics tag. If you want anything older than what you can find in that tag, you'll have to dig for them yourself.

There are other projects that I don’t talk much about online, if you can call them that. I may as well note that when I say private projects, I really just mean characters and stories that I brainstorm them occasionally and I don’t actively work on. If you see something not listed here, it’s probably one of those.

[is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent]

does he have dissociative identity disorder?

submit your own characters here to be featured!

reason: for DID: he has an alter-ego which mainly exists in his elaborate lucid dreams (which he’s practically been spending the last four years immersed in tbc) and was developed after a traumatic incident as a way to shield him from his terrifying hallucinations/intrusive thoughts. he’s a representation of sunny before the incident but simultaneously embodies his guilt-soiled self-perception.

for autism: has been shown to be very quiet his whole life and only smiles when obligated to, and expresses his happiness differently. has some sensory issues (you can check npcs’ beds and he’ll rank them by how comfortable they look, a mundane active hair dryer is included in his yume-nikki-esque nightmare room, he really hates tofu and describes it as “soft cardboard”). huge maladaptive daydreamer; half of omori is an rpg-themed dream featuring in-universe tv show/comic book/etc characters

*anon submitted him for autism as well, but that poll has already been done here. i left in the full reasoning for both did and autism

[unoriginal-and-dumb]

do you prefer drawing on paper/traditionally or digitally?

Honestly both r good! But i would say draiwng on paper is definitely more for my sketch stuff (I don’t like coloring traditionally)

I like the feeling and texture I get out of paper, but I like the cleanness and undo buttons of digital

Here’s some like differences for some ocs, I think mainly is like line weight honestly cuz I like to carve into paper when I draw

If I had to choose for comic type stuff, definitely leaning to digital, while I do make comments traditionally it’s a nightmare. I hate it.

The dragon character is my friends ( @lucid-daydreaming-art ) oc Aurora and the stupid skull one is Roach I made him and he is a black ink splotch or sumn idk

(Did I use this to oc post?? ERM YES 😃😃😃😅😁😁)

[bunnymi1k]

HAPPY PRIDE from the cast of lucid nightmare!!

(*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

i've never stayed motivated long enough to get a pride drawing done on time, but NOT this time!! you also get a sneak peek of some soon-to-be-introduced characters from the story :3 ✨

from left to right, we have; sage, forest, ace, lilith, and thalia （ ＾ν＾）

version without text under cut <3

i may come back and shade this at a later time, but a drawing this big was hard enough as is lmao. i still need to get back to making the comic, after all.

[dynamic-swap-au-archive]

Hello hello ! Here's part two of my Ultimate Guide to the gorillaz dynamic swap au ! I have a full explanation of what the dynaswap au is here [Link] if you're unfamiliar.

This post covers phase 1 ! the separate parts to the guide can be found in these links:

Phase 0 [Link] Phase 1 [You Are Here] Phase 2 (and onwards) [Link] and Extras [Link]

Or you can see the full guide in my google doc: [Link]

Disclaimer: Please do not bother anyone who was involved with creating the au. They have asked not to be associated with it anymore and we should all respect that.

Phase 1 is a-go: [Link]

Gorillaz | Warnings: Censored Nudity, Slapstick

- [Image] Gorillaz - Self Titled [Link] - [Image] Clint Eastwood [Link] - [Image | Ask] Baby del [Link] - [Image] Single [Link] - [Image] Rock The House [Link] - [Image | Ask] Rock the house stu [Link] - [Video | Image] Just twist your hip and do the dip [Link] - [Video] Rocking [Link] - [Image] Rock 4/5ths of the house [Link] - [Comic] MAGIC FOR ME [Link] - [Image] Gorillaz Live 2001 [Link] - [Image] Against my moral code to draw good [Link]

- [Image] Dazed and Confused [Link] - [Image] Loading... [Link] - [Comic] Our toys have arrived! [Link] - [Comic] game of Two Idiots Strangling Each Other [Link] - [Ask] Who won? [Link] - [Comic] Fancy Dress | Happy Halloween! [Link] - [Image] MELT ITS FACE!! [Link] - [Image | Ask] Fanks [Link]

- [Image] 2001 MTV acceptance speech [Link]

Fame and Misfortune | Warnings: Abuse, Mild Sexual Content, Substance Abuse

- [Image] 2003 [Link]

- [Image] Photoshoot [Link] - [Image] Abba [Link] - [Image] Lucid Magazine [Link] - [Image] Lucid Sans Magazine [Link] - [Image] Ring Ring!! ... Ello? [Link] - [Image | Lore] Stu likes to get touchy-feely at photoshoots [Link]

- [Image] Interview time [Link] - [Main Story | Video] An exclusive interview with Stu and Murdoc [Link]

- [Main Story | Forum] You asked, they answered! Gorillaz Message Boards: May 06, 2003 [Link]

- [Main Story | Comic] Disillusionment [Link]

Sex, Sexuality, and Identity Interlude | Warnings: Mild Sexual Content

- [Lore| Ask] Stu is a romantic [Link] - [Ask] Does stu have (illegitimate) kids? [Link] - [Ask] Are murdoc and stu hypersexual? [Link] - [Ask] Why are stu and murdoc trying to make each other jealous? [Link] - [Ask | Image] Have stu and murdoc ever fucked? [Link] - [Ask | Image] Murdoc and stu Can get along.... when they're drunk [Link] - [Ask] How does murdoc have sex if he doesn't like being touched [Link]

- [Image | Ask] May I give stu a kiss? [Link]

- [Main Lore | Ask] The band's canon sexuality/gender + boundaries on trans headcanons and shipping [Link] - [Image | Ask] I want noodle to have a healthy romantic relationship with a girl [Link] - [Comic | Ask] Noodle has a crush on gwen stefani [Link]

Daily Life | Warnings: Substance Abuse, Slapstick

- [Lore | Ask] What the band does in their free time [Link]

- [Comic] A woman of many talents [Link] - [Image] Russel bugs out [Link] - [Image | Ask] Noodle in headphones | Russel lent her his walkman [Link] - [Story Comic | Ask] Hide and Seek with del [Link] - [Images] Sum boys | del and russel [Link] - [Comic] He gets crazy if you don't give him 20 hours kip a day [Link]

- [Image] Why del is friends with murdoc [Link] - [Comic] Father daughter bonding time [Link] - [Lore | Ask] Where murdoc got the winnebego [Link] - [Image | Ask] Requisites for a happy dynaswap muds [Link] - [Image | Ask] Does mudz ever laugh? | Voodoo Doll [Link] - [Comic] Daily life with the band | Tamagotchi [Link]

- [Comic | Ask] Does stu make fun of noodle's hair? [Link] - [Images] Migraine a bitch [Link] - [Comic | Ask] Stu "Company Is Coming" [Link] - [Comic | Ask] Does stu know how to tie his shoelaces? [Link]

- [Audio] Ambient Sounds With The Band [Link]

Like a zombie | Warnings: Horror, Injury

- [Comic] Bad Dreams [Link] - [Image] Nightmares [Link] - [Main Story | Comic] (half of) Stu's daily routine [Link] - [Image] "Your mother [REDACTED] in hell" "…….ok! ill check back later" [Link] - [Comic | Lore | Ask] Is stu ever afraid of murdoc? [Link] - [Images] Demon days [Link] - [Comic] Demon shenanigans [Link] - [Image] One for the machines that fill up the sky [Link]

Curtain call | Warnings: Substance Abuse, Mild Sexual Content

- [Main Story | Forum] You asked, they answered! Gorillaz Message Boards: November 19th, 2003 [Link] - [Main Story | Comic] Phase 1 End [Link]

[starqueensthings]

Pairing: pirate!Kix x Fem!reader

Summary: the final chapter of Colder Weather. This one is exceptionally long… and it didn’t need to be, but sometimes I can’t just reign it in and that’s okay. Please read the prior two parts before proceeding to this one, and please heed warnings below.

Rating/Warnings/WC: Teen+ for subject matter, TW: mentions of a complicated labour, mentions of postpartum challenges. This chapter is probably 60% sad angst. 40% happiness, but the happy parts make up for the sad parts. 8000ish words (sorry lol)

A/N: y’all… I was so close to killing off the reader, but I’m glad I didn’t. He’s made his mistakes, but deep in his heart and soul, our favourite medic Kix deserves a happy ending. Thank you for reading. Not proof read because this has gone on long enough. If you see a typo… no you don’t.

part one | part one.five | part two

“When I close my eyes I see you, no matter where I am. I can smell your perfume through these whisperin’ pines. I’m with your ghost again, and it’s a shame about the weather but I know soon we’ll be together, and I can’t wait ‘til then.”

That intrusive hum should not have wielded enough power to yank you so unceremoniously from the embracing, semi-lucid doze you’d unintentionally fallen into. That brief reprieve of darkness was meant to be nothing more than just an extended blink; a momentary break from the throbbing headache brought on by several days without sleep, yet that whirring, artificial whine had instantly imbued you with such an unbridled panic, that a gasp near-left your lips as your eyes snapped open and darted urgently toward the front window.

Nightfall had already begun to kiss the horizon, the last of that so reclusive winter sun bathing only that of which it could reach between barren branches. The soft hush of dancing leaves, and the indignant squawks of native wildlife begrudgingly adapting to the change in season, had long since silenced; their departure triggered by the crystal blanket of frost that never failed to drape itself upon every unmoving surface during those extended hours of darkness.

The jarring return to reality had your heart hammering heavily against the walls of your chest, and attempting to reaffix your senses to that disturbing rumble proved nearly impossible over the rhythmic pounding in your ears. A moment's pause had you nearly convinced that familiar hum was nothing but the remnants of a nightmare wiped clean from your memory upon waking. Perhaps your weary mind had clutched so vainly at whatever semblance of sleep it could find, knowing reality would continue to rob your being of the repose it so desperately needed yet continued to neglect, but its stark contrast to the the cherished serenity of nature rendered it harrowingly familiar, and there could simply be no further denying that grinding vibration.

“No,” you implored to the empty room as the implications of that wretched noise forced a shiver down your spine.

You hurried to press yourself into a seated position, and that near-debilitating crest of pain radiating from the tender space between your legs had your face contorting tightly and a soft whimper issuing from behind pursed lips, but with the entirety of your waning focus attuned to that haunting roar, you could spare no attention to your body’s plea for stillness.

“No!” you repeated sternly, as if begging some divine force to halt the imminent invasion.

Snatching the ice pack from its nestle between your thighs and tossing it onto the seat of the chair by the window, you clambered to your feet as gingerly as your frantic mind could permit.

The intensity of your labour only days previously had left you “wiggly”; an inappropriately comical label for how unstable you found yourself in those handful of purgatorial moments between sitting and standing. But a trio of sluggish blinks were all you could offer to placate the stars erupting in your vision… there was simply no time for the deep breath your body craved. The sound of that sputtering engine meant you had mere seconds until it parked itself atop your gravel drive, bringing its unwelcome rider to within only feet of your front door.

“No… no… no… no, no!”

Every resounding thump of your socked feet descending the stairs had that defiant refusal pouring from your snarling lips. The adrenaline doped blood pounding in your veins kept your legs in motion; the desperate need to fortify your home by whatever means necessary quickly diminishing those electrifying jolts of pain between your thighs to nothing but an annoyance, and you utterly refused to suspend your frenzied actions until the satisfyingly audible click the deadbolt met your ears.

Breast heaving under agitated breaths, you pressed your forehead to that cool, steel barrier, reaching a trembling hand to blindly activate the lock and engage the chain across the door. That infuriating hum had ceased, replaced by the sporadic ticking of an engine entering slumber mode after a long journey and the rhythmic crunch of heavy boots treading apprehensively across compacted gravel.

A faint draft danced across your ear as you pressed it flush against the gap between door and frame, biting your lip in an effort to quiet the huffs still pouring from your lips.

How many steps until that calloused hand wreathed itself around the glimmering gold door knob perched innocently at your navel? He drew nearer with every exhale; already his steps had near-muted as they transferred his weight from gravel to pavestone. A potent remorse swelled like noxious gas in your chest, pure exhaustion and repressed sadness flooding your mind with flickering images of all the times you sprinted down that cobblestone path and threw yourself, unabashed, into his embrace..

A shiver stole down your spine as you backed away from the door, folding your arms over your chest and fitting a thumbnail between your teeth. Every moment on your feet saw your body beginning to yield further into exhaustion and the primal need for rest, yet the resolve required to yank gaze from the door and head back upstairs for a fresh ice pack and a long nap had utterly abandoned you.

The stare you affixed that dome of gold was unrelenting, and had the Maker blessed you with even a fraction of the power those old wizards known as “Jedi” once possessed, there was no doubt that gold knob would have burned red hot under the intensity of your gaze.

Your thumbnail continued to shred and fray under the anxious gnawing of your front teeth, little shards torn painfully from the tip of your finger and spat unceremoniously to the floor at your feet were offered none of the attention that you’d affixed to the sounds of his impending arrival. His boots had stalled their movements on the other side of the threshold, and the small scraping of plastoid against plastoid sounded through the door as he shifted to remove his helmet. Any second now that knob would wiggle under his touch. Any second now…

“Go away!” you shouted at the first signs of that handle failing to permit his entry, your anxiety momentarily abated by the same surging rage that sent your hands curling into fists.

“Wh— what? Did— did you say ‘go away’?” That voice. That stupid, forsaken voice.

“Sure did!” you spat back at the man who didn’t deserve even an ounce of the confusion that had stalled his advance. “Get your ass back on that bike and get out of here!”

“Mesh’la…”

Your blood boiled at the outrageous levity in which that endearing coo left his lips, and had it not been for the abandoned baby monitor in the next room, interrupting your increasing indignation with the beeping reminder of a dying battery, at least one of your shaking fists would have crashed heavily against the back of that door.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” you seethed through clamped teeth. “Now get away from my kriffing door before I grab my blaster and shoot you through the peephole!”

A brief moment's weighty silence preceded his answer. “I would deserve that,” Kix acknowledged, no doubt sensing the validity of your threat, having personally dismantled and cleaned the pistol you kept hidden in your nightstand.

“Yeah, you would. Now, goodbye!” you snarked back at him, the responding, poignant sigh that left his lips failing to soften your invective.

“Look, Mes— ”

“Didn’t I just say, don’t call me tha—”

“Okay. Okay…” Every emotional huff expelled from his lungs was a breath that only further ignited the embers of your vexation, and saw you withdrawing further and further from the door. How dare he be upset? How dare he feel exasperated? How dare he even show up here, let alone stand at the entryway to your home and attempt to belittle the agony of his betrayal with his own undeserved feelings of remorse?

“I owe you some big explanations,” he muttered slowly. “I have a lot to apologize for, and I— I want to say it all because you deserve it.”

“Oh I ‘deserve it’?” you snorted near-maniacally. “Now? And not six months ago when you hightailed it out of here, and left me in the kriffing clutches of hell?”

“Of course you did, Mesh’la,” he assuaged. “You’ve always deserved it, and I’ve been— well… I’ve struggled a lot, but you know that and it’s no excuse. Can you please unlock the door and let me in?”

“No.”

You intensified the knot of your arms across the tender swells of your chest and snarled as silence ensued. Every elongated second that ticked present into past saw your jaw begin to mutiny against the continued force of irritably grinding your molars together, the discomfort only masked by the powerful pangs of pain between your legs as your body continued to beg for your retreat. But physical agony was mere childsplay; nothing… nothing compared to the debilitating heartbreak that had rendered you emotionally distraught and struggling to keep your head above water since he last fled your embrace, the haunting image of his anguished face erupting in your mind's-eye every time you sought the respite of sleep.

“No,” you repeated weakly. “You’ve had so many chances to talk, Kix. You made your choice.”

Sorrow and grief, respawned by the reminder of a life longed-for and lost, threatened to envelop you. How many months had you begged him for the knowledge that he was now, inexplicably, offering? How many nights did you attempt to chisel away at his walls, refusing to see the efforts as futile, and doggedly convinced that he would feel the same devotion to you if he would just let himself? Now here he was, offering all the things you’d once prayed for on a silver platter at your door, and the undeniable longing that had previously seen you gazing limitlessly into his eyes, still held the maddening power to sag your shoulders and wet those tired eyes.

You hastily wiped the emotion from your face and shook the malignant thoughts from your head; too many tears had already been shed on his account, too many nights had vanished from underneath you, lost in the shadow of loneliness.

He upheld a near-suffocating silence from his unseen perch, and it lingered just long enough to make you wonder if he’d simply turned on his heel and left. Despite reminding yourself that such a departure would ultimately be for the best, the notion of another temerous abandonment at his hands wrapped itself like an iron fist around your gut, further restricting every already pained inhale.

A gentle thunk against the door exposed his presence, and your eyes darted to the area where he’d likely just rested that weary, tattooed head.

“Well,” you offered sadly, unknotting your arms and stretching the tension from your neck. “Not that this hasn’t been… enlightening… but I’m in desperate need of some sleep, so… goodbye.”

You cast one last glance toward the peephole before turning to ascend the stairs again, attempting to placate the twisting in your stomach with a deep, controlled inhale.

“Goodnight, Cyare. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your hand froze on the railing, chilled toes ceasing their movements at his unexpected valediction, and the slow breath that had promised you some semblance of relief, now escaped your nose in a huff of indignant disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” you barked over your shoulder at the deadbolt.

“I’m not leaving,” he explained. “You deserve an apology and I’m giving it to you. I’ll sleep in the driveway if I have to.”

A scoff left your lips as you shook your head, eyes rolling extravagantly at his unprecedented impudence. “It’s freezing outside,” you snorted coolly.

“Not cold enough to stop me.”

With patience utterly diminished by both his audacious dedication, and the continued throbs of pain in your core, you turned and stomped back down the stairs, a frustrated growl leaving your lips as you unlatched the deadbolt and yanked the door open only wide enough to peer out into the increasing darkness.

There he stood. Your Kix. Those characteristically piercing, dark eyes now so soft they were nearly unrecognizable, and framed by knitted, forlorn brows. Those subtle creases across his forehead, of which typically only emerged in moments where surprise or potent emotion lifted his brow toward his hairline, had deepened and embedded themselves with the same plea swaddling the rest of those familiar features. His tall frame still hid behind that scuffed and blemished blue plastoid kit, that marred and dented helmet hung loosely at his side as it always did when not masking his face, and that bushy, unkempt beard failed to conceal the emergence of several blue, day-old bruises, their pigmentation only matched by the swollen bags beneath those brown eyes.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” you hissed at him through the door’s meager opening. “Where do you come off thinking you can just show up here and make demands? What makes you think I even want your dumb apology?”

“I’m not here to make demands, Mesh’la,” he pleaded, the perimeter of his frame disappearing behind the door as he stepped as close as the gap would permit.

“Then what do you want?” you pressed him sternly, mirroring his unintended concealment by narrowing the gap in the door. “Why are you here?”

“Because I love you,” he urged in a whisper. “And I want to explain everything. Please… just let me in.”

That pure and unfiltered expression of love nearly cleaved you in half; his admonition monetarily overpowering your composure and threatening utterly rob you of the dwindling resolve you’d somehow funnelled into continued refusals.

“No, Kix,” you argued in little more than a pathetic whine. “You’re not coming in her–”

“Why?” he challenged.

“Because! The second you're within arms reach, I’m going to want to smack you for all the bantha-shit you’ve pulled, and I’m not doing that in front of my newborn baby!”

Kriff.

It slipped from your lips… that unintended profession leaving your mouth on a wave of unbridled emotion. You hadn’t formulated exactly how or when you planned to break the news to him in those frantic seconds between learning of his imminent arrival and this moment. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected the conversation to get this far… hell, you hadn’t even expected this conversation to happen. He should have just conceded to your wishes and left when you demanded it of him, not stubbornly refused to leave your side, and revealing the birth of his child so casually and without intent had unmistakably shaken him.

You could only watch regretfully as his head snapped upward from its solemn hang, tired eyes widening and darting back and forth between yours as if peering into their depths would offer him an unfiltered truth. That cherished, sharp jaw softened with shock; lips falling open, chest heaving beneath that old distressed cuirass as you reciprocated his imploring gaze with a diffident, guilty one of your own.

“You— you had the baby?” he choked, eyes boring into yours as the aluminum threshold creaked under the weight of his step, his hand rising to grip the edge of that door as if its previously irksome existence was now the only thing stabilizing him.

Too laden with self-resentment for having so-loosely uttered the revelation, you cast his gloved fingers only a fleeting glance as they pressed the door open as wide as the chain would permit, but the mental space quickly earmarked for regret and self hatred was near-instantly usurped by an unprecedented sense of pity as your gaze fell upon his again.

“Yes,” you admitted in a whisper, nearly cowering beneath the intensity of the plea in his eyes. “Four days ago.”

His throat bobbed, eyes unfocusing as they darted to and fro between yours, and you could only watch apprehensively as those familiar lips parted and closed, continuously failing to communicate the myriad of thoughts and allegations currently ravaging his mind. “But… you weren’t due until the end of this month?” he managed to splutter out. “Weren’t you? That’s what you said: ‘The baby isn’t due until the last week of the year…’”

“Yeah, well… these things happen sometimes,” you answered apathetically, a weak shrug lifting one shoulder as you averted your eyes downward to your toes. “I was shocked too, if that makes you feel better.”

His abrupt about-face stole your attention back immediately, his boots scraping across the cold stone as he drug his feet toward the grass and stooped over. His helmet hit the lawn with a thud, dark hair disappearing entirely as his hands fell to his knees and his chin hung to his chest.

The shift in his demeanor froze your breath in your lungs, his derailment such a surprise that even attempting to locate a consoling word amongst your own tornadic thoughts was feat proven impossible. A sigh left your nose, the biting chill of the breeze turning your exasperation to cloud as your fingers drummed indecisively against the soft cotton of your sweater. The urge to barrel into the darkness and wrap your arms around those sagging shoulders was near-irrepressible, yet doing so would communicate a message you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to send in this already tense moment. You swallowed heavily, confusion sending your thumbnail back between your teeth as you maintained your position behind the door, resignedly averting your eyes from the discomfited sight of a man completely defeated.

“I missed it…” he breathed, standing upright and turning back toward you, his lips pressed tightly together in a disappointed grimace. “I can’t believe that. I— I thought I had time.”

You fought against every ounce of sympathy surging through your veins. You simply did not want to feel bad for him; that wandering pariah had dangled happiness in front of your nose only to snatch it away one too many times to warrant feeling slighted in this moment.

A shiver stole down your spine as you reached blindly for the door handle and began to close the door. Triggered by the squeak of the hinges, his gaze darted toward you, the torment behind those darkened eyes intensifying as your figure slowly disappeared behind that steel barrier again. But his crestfallen frame was hidden from you for only a moment as, against your better judgement, you disengaged the chain from the door and pulled it wide.

“We always think we have time,” you grumbled, leaning against the door frame and perching one cold foot on top of the other. “Until someone we love vanishes, and we’re left with nothing but pieces of ourselves and no desire to reassemble them.”

He took a selfish moment to breathe in your appearance, eyes shifting from your head to your toes, lingering for a fraction of a second on that soft bump still protruding underneath your clothes. You hurried to fold your arms across your chest again, the abrupt exposure to both his eyes and the cold sending another sending your shoulders ashiver again.

“I know the feeling…”

It was barely audible. Had you not been near-glaring at him as he spoke, those whispered words would have simply wafted away with the cold breeze, yet the way his jaw clenched as he trod eagerly back toward you had rendered you more immobile than the horrid implications of his passive statement, and you stood rooted to the spot as he reached to cradle your elbows with his palms.

“Mesh’la,” he beseeched. “I’m sorry about a lot of things. But kriff, it kills me that you went through that alone.”

“Almost killed me too if I’m being honest,” you groused, jerking your arms from the tenderness of his touch. “For making an early entrance, he sure put up a fight on the way out.”

“He?”

‘Maker, have mercy,’ you grumbled inwardly, instantly aware of your second monstrous mistake. As you hurried to shield your face with your hands, he intercepted your need for a moment's separation by enclosing your fingers with his and holding them tightly.

“Please, love,” Kix begged. “Please, let me in. There’s so much to sa—”

“I don’t have it in me for another one sided conversation, Kix,” you interrupted dispiritedly, attempting to snatch your hands from that devastatingly familiar grip. “I did that for years and you fled every single one of them. I’m too tired—”

“I won’t run this time,” Kix urged, letting your hands tear away from his before hastening to gently drape them around your elbows again. “I’m done running. I promise. Once I can say what I’ve been meaning to say, we can stay up for a week straight and talk. Or— or I’ll get back on the bike and leave if that’s what you really want. I’ll do anything, Mesh’la. Please.”

The glorified return of his touch to your body both wilted and unnerved you; the urge to simply fall into him and let those strong arms carry your weary self to bed was strikingly dominant despite the deep-seated resentment that you undeniably still harboured for the reticent pirate.

“Fine,” you hissed, not waiting to gauge his reaction before turning on your heel and climbing gingerly back up that handful of stairs, leaving him to cross the threshold and kick his boots off alone.

Your frigid feet took you on a direct path to the caf machine, desperate for that glorious nectar to reinvigorate your languid senses and grant you something near an open mind so Kix’s pertinent apology wasn’t just a minute wasted as it wafted through your exhausted and cautious ears. By the time you returned from the living room, tucking the baby monitor under your arm and reaching for its charging cord on the table, Kix was stepping apprehensively into the kitchen, crinkled eyes scanning the surroundings that he hadn’t seen in the better part of a year.

“Help yourself,” you muttered, gesturing sightlessly toward the gurgling caf machine.

“Thank you,” he answered politely, pulling a pair of mugs from the cabinet beside the window.

Resolute in reserving the offering of any niceties until after this allegedly imperative explanation, you ignored his every movement, plugging the baby monitor into charge as noisily as possible, clunking it down heavily onto the table in front of you and flinging the cord around while he poured two mugs of caf. You refused him even a glance as he crossed the kitchen and placed the first of the steaming cups on the table in front of you, the only offering of thanks was a quick compression of your lips.

Perhaps sensing the intentional disconnect, Kix perched himself against the counter in front of the sink across the room, bringing one ankle over the other and wreathing the green ceramic mug he’d chosen for himself in those gloved hands. He watched you silently as you snatched an ice pack from the freezer and limped back toward the table, repressing a wince as you lowered yourself onto the seat of a rickety old wooden chair, immediately wedging the icy addition into place and begging the stars that it provide you some semblance of relief.

“Why does it sound like you always had plans to come back here?” you asked him coldly, hoping the bite in your words would eradicate the worry in his eyes as he watched you struggle for comfort. “Would have been nice to be included in that secret.”

“I know,” he said, banishing his mug to the countertop so he could lean backwards on his hands. “You’re a smart woman, Mesh’la, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that I ran out of here more scared than I ever have been in my life. I… it’s been a long time since the idea of fatherhood crossed my mind. So much has happened… it— I didn’t think it would ever be on the table for me.”

Your petulant scoff captured his attention from his toes immediately, his crinkled eyes affixing on you again. “I know it means nothing now, but the second I left here, I wanted to come back. I felt sick the second I turned that bike on, and the entire drive back into the village I kept pulling over and… and telling myself to just turn around. But I’m a smart guy too, and it wasn’t lost on me what I’d just done to you. I couldn’t get the look on your face out of my head, and… and part of me knew I’d just completely broken what little trust you had left in me. So I kept going.

“Ithano could tell something was wrong, and he wouldn’t let up until I told him, but by the time I could bring myself to physically say the words, we were already at the other end of the galaxy. I’ve— I’ve seen him pissed off before, but never like that. He called me an “excuse of a man”; told me that no one in their right mind would pass up the chance for safety and a family; that you were a gift from the stars to make up for all the shit I’ve been through, and I was just throwing you away because I couldn’t see past my own volatility. And, maker, did that make me sick… because I knew it was true. By the time the suns came up the next day, I’d made my decision. I told him I needed some time to square up some old debts, and then I was done. He said he’d help me clean up every mess I’ve left on every planet, and get me ready to wash my hands of the nomad life. So… that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been from one end of the galaxy to the other making sure my name is clear so I could come back here and…”

His voice trailed away to silence, his ashamed gaze dropping back to his toes as you fought to ruminate his words.

The confession was profoundly altering, and while taking your weight from your feet had somewhat loosened the grip of that iron fist around your gut, a large portion of your already dwindling lucidity had been abruptly stolen from you by the stunning implications of his explanation. In the wake of his last, harrowing departure, you’d found solace in utterly villainizing him; pretending that he’d laughed maniacally as he drove away, convinced yourself that he’d find another woman somewhere in the village to use as a means to forget you and the hell he’d bestowed upon you. But despite wanting, with every cell in your body, to despise the olive skinned, peripatetic man that had stolen your heart, there wasn’t even the ghost of a villain hiding behind those features.

And then there was the excuse itself… no, the explanation. Despite having never met you, Ithano had always been in your corner; Kix had expressed on countless occasions that the leader of his crew would like nothing more than for the bereft man from the lost-and-found to plant roots somewhere and leave the hand-to-mouth life behind him. Claiming that he was simply too disoriented by his past and the ghosts that haunted his every step, Kix had adamantly refused the sedentary life, yet had never quite been able or willing to let you go. If this story had validity, and there was something about the way his eyes pleaded for your understanding, was it enough to diminish the hurt he’d left you with?

“The bruises?” you asked him solemnly, gesturing with a small lift of the finger to the discolouration peeking out from the wild expanse of his beard.

“Just a… parting transaction… that didn’t go as smoothly as intended,” he admitted, reaching for his caf again and bringing it slowly to his lips. “Took a little extra effort, but it’s done.”

Your molars clicked as they ground together, fingers drumming thoughtlessly atop the knot in that old wood table as you absently rubbed the pad of your thumb along the spot where the varnish had worn away. “You could have told me, Kix,” you exhorted.

“I should have,” he corrected. “And it would have been lightyears better than radio silence, especially after how I left you, but I knew how upset you were… and I didn’t want to add any worry on top of everything else. And I did have every intention of being back here by the end of the year so I could be with you when the baby was born but… little guy beat me here, I guess.”

You could feel his surveying gaze from across the kitchen, seemingly uncertain if the correct thing to do would be to let you process the information, or to continue his reasoning lest you suddenly get up and extract your pistol from the nightstand. Periodic slurps were the only interruption to that suffocating silence as you aimlessly took sip after sip of caf, sighing periodically as you blindly watched the newborn sleep happily in his cozy bassinet.

“An apology will never be enough,” he continued quietly after clearing his throat. “I know that. And I could spend every second for the rest of my life uttering those words, but they’ll never mean as much as I need them to mean.”

It wasn’t until he pushed himself away from the counter and approached your seat that you offered him a glance, and when he was near enough to reach you, he pulled your hand from your mouth and swaddled it with his own, dropping to a knee in front of your chair and looking directly into your eyes.

“I am so sorry,” he repented. “I’m sorry for every time I’ve walked out on you. I’m sorry for not instantly giving you every bit of love and commitment that you’ve always deserved. You’ve been nothing but supportive, and I’ve been nothing but dismissive. I’ll tell you everything… all about my past, my family, where I’m from, what I’ve done, who I am. I promise I won’t waste another second of your time making you feel unworthy or unwanted, because Mesh’la— you are neither.”

A sob escaped your lips as your eyes clamped closed, forcing a tear to cascade down your cheek. He dropped your hand immediately and moved to delicately cup your jaw, brushing the wetness from your skin with a soft swipe from the pad of his calloused thumb. “You’ll never be able to hate me as much as I hate myself for what I’ve done to you,” he whispered. “But I’m going to work on regaining your tr—”

“I don’t hate you,” you choked thickly as another tear slipped from your overflowing lids. “But I wish I did. I’ve wanted to hate you for years but I just can’t, Kix.”

“Good,” he nearly laughed, chasing away the stray tear. “Then love me. Keep loving me like you always have because it’s making me the man I should be and I’m done fighting it. I’m ready. It’s unexpected and unbelievable and I know that, but just trust me one last time and I’ll prov—”

A shrill, choked cry echoed around the kitchen, the indicator light on the monitor flashing a series of red and orange to alert you that some sort of commotion was issuing loudly from two rooms over. You hastily swallowed the sob still perched in your throat and snatched the device off the table, watching your baby boy’s mouth spread wide in a wail that could only mean his butt was wet and his belly was empty.

“I have to get him,” you choked, pulling your face from his clutches and wiping your nose quickly on your sleeve. “I’ll be back. Just… I don’t know… take your armour off or something.”

He nodded faintly, eyes affixed on the monitor as you placed it back down on the table and stood. He took the ice pack from you blindly, placing it on the table as you strode around him and left the room.

In the dozen or so minutes required to collect the baby, change his diaper, and redress him in a warmer onesie, Kix had take your sage advice and shed his rigid exterior, the kit now stacked neatly on the chair in the living room, while his broad frame paced anxiously around the kitchen. His apprehension was immediately apparent by his incessant fidgeting; his arms swinging madly by his side, each pendulous swing of his hands triggering a snap of his fingers while his feet carried him thoughtlessly from fridge to stove, and back again.

You paused in the hallway and watched him take several deep controlled breaths, pausing in his cadence for a quiet moment before shaking his head and resuming his fervent soothing, but at the first sign of your return, his ministrations ceased entirely, fingers frozen and poised mid snap while his shoulders squared in anticipation.

“That’s— that’s him?” he asked foolishly as you entered through the open doorway, gently rocking the cooing baby swaddled loosely in your arms. “That’s my son?” The sudden surge of potent reality fractured his voice, and he hastened to cover his trembling lip with a bare hand.

“Mhmm,” you answered with a small nod. “Do— do you want to feed him?”

He held his hand in place over his mouth, wide eyes darting upwards to yours with a look of unadulterated trepidation. Your lips had barely parted to retract the offer, poised to reassure him that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, when Kix’s pallid face nodded.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, taking the remaining few steps across the kitchen until you were nearly chest to chest. “Turns out the whole ‘parent’ thing comes pretty naturally. Just be very, very gentle, and make sure you cradle his hea—”

“Cradle his head,” Kix breathed, extending his arms towards you. “I know. I mean— I remember. I learned it so long ago, but…”

His sentiments waned to silence as you placed the baby in his arms and stepped away, hesitating for only a moment to see if the unnatural hold or foreign aroma might trigger a tantrum, but the boy remained placid and observant in his father’s arms, so you turned to pull a prepared bottle from the fridge.

As if instinctively, Kix’s broad shoulders began to sway gently from side to side, guided by the gentle shifts of his hips while soft shushes issued from his lips. It wasn’t until a sniffle met your ears did you realize that the gruff pirate had been utterly robbed of his composure by the innocent boy in his arms. You lingered as long as you could manage in the fridge, hands needlessly shifting items around the shelves in an effort to offer the pair a moment of privacy. Several softly spoken “Hi little man” ’s pulled a smile to your face as you finally closed the fridge and reached to retrieve the kettle from the stove, filling it with enough water to boil.

By the time you’d filled an oversized mug with hot water and placed the bottle inside to heat, he’d begun softly humming the tune of an unfamiliar song, gazing glassy-eyed into his arms.

“Never heard that one,” you mumbled through a smirk.

He turned as if surprised to see you, as if the rest of the world had simply vanished into nothingness once his baby had entered his embrace, and you were quick to raise your eyebrows at the unintentional fracture of his stupor. And then… he smiled. The first smile you’d seen adorn that handsome face in months, and you were instantly sure that way it robbed you of breath had cast a bashful look across your face nearly identical to his.

“It’s an old Mando’a tune,” he admitted, as the lingering embarrassment of being caught mid-vulnerability flushed what was available of his bruised cheeks. “I’m surprised I remember it, honestly.”

You nodded gently and reached for the bottle, upturning it and placing a small droplet of the liquid on your wrist to gauge the temperature. “So… what exactly was your plan then?” you asked as you wiped the milk from your skin.

Kix stopped humming and glanced back at you, the first signs of anxiety reemerging behind his eyes and robbing his features of the bliss they’d welcomed upon cradling the baby. “Well…” he started after a heavy swallow. “I was hoping I could come home and… and stay. If you’ll still have me?”

You sighed and placed the bottle back in the water, immediately dropping your gaze to your thumbnail so you could continue its absentminded destruction. You, truthfully, weren’t entirely convinced of his intentions. While you deemed large parts of his story to be genuine, and while you could not deny the plea in his eyes as he cradled your face with his hands and confessed his devotion, the sting of his past mistakes, regardless of his planned atonement, was an injury that you were confident may never fully heal. You loved him with your entire heart, this had never been in question, but how much could you trust him going forward, and how patient was he willing to be while you two rebuilt the previously precarious relationship?

“Well… we’d definitely have to start things slow because I already feel like I’m pouring from an empty cup,” you admitted shamefully. “But, pending you can communicate as well as you say you’re going to, I think I’d be okay with trying.”

“I’m good with slow,” he answered instantly, dark eyes alight with that familiar, ravishing twinkle. “I’ll sleep on the couch… and— and give you whatever space you need.”

You nodded, nibbling on your bottom lip in an effort to withhold the smile attempting to dome your cheeks. “But unfortunately,” you admonished, feigning seriousness, “I no longer run this kriffing house, so… you’ll have to get Jesse’s permission too.”

You pursed your lips together as tightly as you could, funnelling every effort into suppressing the coy and exposing grin attempting to peel across your face as you waited for understanding to dawn on the love-struck pirate still swaying happily in the center of the room, yet he met your smile with nothing but a cocked brow and a grimace of confusion. “Ask Jesse,” you repeated, pointing toward the gurgling bundle in his arms.

You watched with glee as realization widened his eyes and parted his lips.

“Jesse.”

It was little more than a whisper, an exalted comprehension having nearly robbed him of his voice. Something near a strangled sob escaped his lips as he tipped his head backward and gazed listlessly at the ceiling, a pair of tears trailing from the corners of his eyes and leaking downward into that dark beard.

“Well,” you pressed, dabbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “Go on. Ask him.”

“What do you think, little man?” Kix choked to the infant, gently prodding at the wide nose that almost perfectly mirrored his own. “Want to hang out with me for life?”

A single, pudgy hand emerged from the depths of that soft knitted blanket, wrapping itself around the tip of Kix’s battle worn finger and clamping it tightly.

***

You woke with a gasp, the true horror of the situation immediately apparent through your narrowed and crusted eyelids. It was much too bright; there was simply too much sunlight pouring in from the window beside the bed for only a few hours to have passed since you put the baby in his crib and stumbled wearily across the hall into bed.

Wrenching the blankets off, you threw yourself to a standing position and dashed from the room, panic erupting in your chest as your bare feet trod frantically toward the nursery. Why was Jesse not screaming? He was surely starving, surely had a wet diaper, surely needed someone to hold him and gently pat the air that had accumulated in that tiny tummy?

But the crib was empty, the blanket you’d wrapped him in the previous night tossed haphazardly across the changing pad on the adjacent table. You sprinted from the room again and hurried down the hallway toward the living room, eyes narrowed against the near-painful onslaught of daylight beaming in through the open curtains. The couch was just as barren as the crib, Kix’s donated pillow and blanket folded neatly and perched on the sofa’s arm, the soldier nowhere to be found.

The unmistakable smell of freshly brewed caf met your nose as you stumbled into the kitchen, but the typically heavenly gurgling sound of the machine brewing a whole pot of that glorious dark liquid was smothered by the panic pounding in your ears.

“…he was that kinda guy, you know?…”

You froze in the threshold of the dining room.

“…he always knew what we needed to hear when things got really rough. He was a man of few words, but everything he said we took right to heart.”

Kix’s voice wafted in through the patio door; the shockingly warm fall breeze surging fresh air through your home and sending those white linen curtains dancing in the sunlight. You crossed the room and pressed your ear to the crack in the doorway, letting the breeze brush the hair from your shoulders.

“I know I’m biased, but I really think he was the best Captain in the whole GAR. I would have died for him. I would have died for any of th—”

The patio door squeaked in its track as you slid it open and stepped out onto the back deck, the interruption halting him mid sentence and stealing his attention immediately. But his surprise was nothing near yours. You stopped in your tracks, mouth falling open at the unexpected sight in front of you.

That surging panic and dread evaporated from your mind as Kix looked innocently at you, the lagging sweep of dark lashes over his eyes appeared in slow motion as you fought and failed to process his appearance. The beard was… gone, his smile exponentially more apparent now that it wasn’t utterly shrouded by an expanse of wiry black hair. His hair had been neatly cropped and pushed backward off his face, the clean cut of his hairline clear evidence that years without holding a trimmer had dulled none of his hidden barbering abilities.

“There’s mama,” he gasped quietly through a dazzling grin, shifting the baby in his arms to face you. “Give her one of those big gummy smiles so she isn’t mad that we let her sleep in.”

“Kix,” you whispered, still momentarily dumbfounded by the unexpected youthfulness imbued in all his features. “You— I’m not mad, but… but Jesse needs to eat every couple hours. You can’t just let me sleep through feeding—”

“I did it,” Kix answered with a shrug, thoughtlessly running a palm along his shaven chin.

“You did it?” you repeated, mouth falling open.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “He started doing the hungry tongue thing just after you went to bed, so I heated up a bottle. Then again a few hours later. Maker, can this guy ever burp.”

“You… you did both feedings?” you whispered.

“Yup,” Kix chuckled, patting the seat of the identical chair next to his. “And he went right to sleep after both. Falls into food coma’s like his dad. Though, I’ve been lucky enough to never shit myself after.”

You exhaled the panic from your lungs and took a seat next to him, tipping your head back against the headrest and letting the impossibly warm autumn sun wash the tension from your features. It wasn’t until a calloused hand came to rest gently on your knee did you reaffix him with your attention.

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la…” he lamented, squeezing your leg. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I just wanted to let you get some sleep. I imagine you probably haven’t gotten much lately.”

“You can say that again,” you answered with a forced chuckle, lifting your hands to pull the dried bits of sleep from the corners of your eyes.

“You’ve done so much on your own…” Kix continued sadly, retrieving his hand from your leg to tenderly shift the blanket away from Jesse’s chin. “Well… you’ve done everything on your own. But that’s done now.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked over at him, trying to keep the skepticism from your eyes.

“Go get yourself a caf, and then tell me if you’re ready,” he spoke, gesturing with a flick of the head back toward the kitchen while gently and rhythmically patting the baby’s bum and beginning to slowly rock his chair.

“If I’m ready?” you repeated, cocking an eyebrow and shifting your weight onto the armrest closest to him so you could watch Jesse fall back asleep. “For what?”

“To know everything.”

And the way his gaze bore into yours so deeply, had any ounce of skepticism pushed to the perimeter of your mind; the way his eyes glimmered with light as they wordlessly promised you the truth, promised that nothing would change in those fleeting seconds it would take you to pour yourself a caf.

“And if you change your mind?” you mumbled, refusing to avert your eyes from his.

“I won’t, Cyare. Those days are done. My mind isn’t changing. Go… and then I’ll tell you all about CT-6116. About Kamino… the clones… the war… my brothers… Jesse… Rex… Fives. All of them. Everything."

***

“Dadddd! Where’s Jesse?”

Kix snorted as he flicked the last of the soap suds off the tips of his fingers and dried them on the dish towel. “He’s in the orchard, picking apples with your mom,” he chuckled, placing the now cleaned and dried mug carefully on the mug tree. “Remember the fit you threw when you realized they left without you?”

“Ughhhh, no!” Rex grumbled at his fathers seemingly deliberate stupidity. “I meant uncle Jesse. Where is he?”

Kix hesitated, the smile slipping from his lips as his eyes unfocused into the depths of the sink. “You know where he is, buddy,” he answered, looking over his shoulder at his youngest. “He’s in the stars with Uncle Rex… with all of my brothers.”

“But why did they go up there?”

“Well…” Kix started slowly. “They had to go. The stars needed their help brightening the galaxy.”

“So then they was super smart?” his son asked, mouth gaping in awe.

“Definitely super smart,” Kix repeated with a grin. “And super brave, super loyal, super funny…”

“Do you ever miss ‘em?”

Kix paused again and sighed heavily, attempting to conceal the pain that furrowed his brow whenever his brothers were unexpectedly mentioned. “Everyday,” he nodded. “But I can see them at night when I look at the sky. The brightest stars are the ones powered by people we love.”

“So I could see ‘em too?!”

“Sure you can. You and I can climb up on the roof later and we’ll say hello. Jesse and ‘Soka can come too if they wan—.”

“No!” the little blonde boy argued instantly. “No, dad. Just you and me…”

“Okay,” Kix nodded with a smile. “Just you and me. But, Rex… you have to wear your coat this time or your mom will give us both timeouts. Deal?”

“Deal!” The little boy sprinted from the kitchen without another word, dashing out into the backyard where Soka was hanging by her legs from a tree. You appeared through the tree line just to the right, Jesse standing nearly as tall you were, shoulders carrying overflowing baskets of apples while you buffed one on your apron and laughed about something.

And another sigh stole from that aging pirates lips as he leaned forward onto the counter and watched you, wondering what he’d ever done to deserve such happiness.

.

tag list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinedaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis

**if you are on my taglist and we’re not tagged, it’s because you’ve indicated that angst is a no for you.

[nohmercy]

MY CBS/CPS LORE DUMP!!! im... so sorry its so long 😭😭😭😭😭

RED Sniper and Spy are stationed at Twofort and become amicable buddies. They work well together for a few months, but, over time, earn the ire of the enemy team through relentless domination bc of a huge skill difference. BLU Spy takes it especially hard...

[The events of CBS: Origins happen. BLU Spy sabotages the respawn system, kidnaps RED Sniper + tortures him to death with the help of his teammates, RED Spy mourns, Sniper comes back with a vengeance, etc.] except we learn he made a deal with the Devil (like, from the comics). He has to send doomed mortal souls to him until he is satisfied, and as a reward, Sniper gets to be effectively immortal and gets a host of new abilities, thus, becoming Brutal Sniper. (His name is Christian. but he doesnt remember his own name after the resurrection, so he goes by Jack.)

When he comes back, he's powered by pure, frenetic bloodlust and rapidly loses himself to it. Over the course of a few weeks, he tracks down and slaughters each BLU team member, starting with the BLU Spy. RED Spy is, at first, happy he's back, but slowly starts to worry about his rampage and rapid change in demeanor from the calm, laid back guy he once knew. (this is the spy that hangs around him in the early days, muttering about bloodied suits)

After Brutal's quest for revenge is fully satiated, he learns that the Devil isn't quite done with him, yet, and not-so-subtly implies he will never get his normal life back. Brutal goes on another blood bender, slaughtering random people and attacking other Freaks he meets along the way back to his home base. There, he tries to stop himself, but ultimately can't suppress his urge to mindlessly kill. He goes for his own teammates, and the RED spy, his spy, dies trying to protect them.

This sends him into a daze, and he runs off into the world, quickly forgetting everything once more and falling back into his crazed, violent habits. There, he meets Gentlespy, and upon seeing him, Sniper feels a tug of something he can't explain (because it isnt bloodlust lol), so they stick together and run around doing Freaky shenanigans. Meanwhile...

RED Spy gets sent to (comic) heaven for his final good deed. While there, God acquiesces his one wish. He wanted to forget about it all, just like Jack did. He couldn't bear the weight of such a massive loss on his soul, and he felt he could have stopped it, but didn't because of his sentimentality. After having his memory wiped completely (oops), he quickly scales the rungs of God's favor with his skill and charm, and earns the honor of being an Angel.

His ruthless efficiency, cunning, attention to detail, ability to strategize and adapt, and his skills with weapons all land him in the tier of Vanquisher. He's sent back to earth with a small squadron of comrades on a reconnaissance mission to find all of the Devil's doings and either rid the world of them or cleanse them somehow. So, he goes around fighting Freaks, alongside Orange Man, Soldine, Karma Soldier (a fellow angel), etc. and finds that the wastes are overrun with the horrible, stupid things.

CBS is at the top of their shitlist, alongside Painis, Piss Cakehole, Nightmare Medic, etc. and they manage to capture him pretty easily. Exorcisms just seem to piss him off, and holy water just melts his skin off. So, they group up to try and find a solution. If they kill him, the Devil will just keep bringing him back until his contract is fulfilled. So, they decide to bind him.

With his powers mostly quelled by their spells, he finds himself, for the first time in years, lucid. Memories slowly start to fade back into focus. At first, he berates/mocks Pure and does everything he can to attack or escape. But as he starts to piece things together, his guilt keeps him quiet and shackled to his side.

[This is around where the Witchy vids slide in, but only some parts] Pure has no clue about any of this. He's just tasked with babysitting Brutal while he runs around dispelling spirits and beheading zombies. They have a sort of "i fucking hate you" vs "im going to ignore you" dynamic at first, but the ice melts pretty quickly. Pure finds himself weirdly drawn to him, and marvels at his skill in battle, even while intensely suppressed. Things take a turn when his superiors learn about their growing fondness for each other, however...

And they lock Brutal in the basement of a church. He can't die naturally, and they're trying to avoid killing him, so they decide to just leave him somewhere he literally can't escape. This causes Pure to question everything. The unabashed cruelty and apathy makes him second guess his position, his role in all of this. And, well...

He sets Brutal free. With the bindings off, everything rushes back all at once and he leaps at Pure's throat- only to stop himself... Through the hatred, the anger, the fear, he still feels... there. Like his memories didn't go away this time. He's still completely unaware who he's even looking at, but he finds himself lucid enough to think, to talk. Pure is scared out of his mind, but realizes that he could have been dead a million times over by now. They have a little Moment... and Brutal helps him up and dusts him off with a muttered apology. Neither of them have any clue what to do, now, and it's a bit awkward, but they just walk out of the church and celebrate their mutual freedoms.

Brutal offers to drag Pure around the desert in his stupid journey to kill as many people as possible, but he quickly declines, instead offering Brutal a place by his side as he hunts down and cleanses the world of the evil Freaks. (-thinking- 'pls be my faithful dog. pls be my vicious protective companion. pl') Brutal says ok whatevr ig but only bc ur pretty. ok not rlly but he does agree

They gather all the intel they can, making friends and allies in unexpected places and picking up puzzle pieces of their past lives. Pure slowly starts to realize that, not only did he used to be a living, breathing human, but he was a pretty shitty guy that killed people for money and smoked like a freight train. He has no clue how to cope with this, as it shatters his (heavily manufactured by outside forces) Pure persona. Things take a dramatic turn when they visit Twofort.

Shockingly, it's pretty much the same as it was all those years ago, but now lies abandoned. It didn't even get to see a cleanup crew, the splatters of blood and viscera still exactly where they were the day everything went wrong. And things click.

They remember each other. Not fully, especially not Pure, but there's a glimmer of awed recognition when they look at each other, now. And things get... weird. A lot of old guilt is drummed up a little too fast to handle, mingling with the ashes of an old flame. But they don't have time to think about that right now. Because Team Killer just showed up.

IM SORRY THATS SOOOO LONG OMFHSDJH I DONT EXPECT ANYBODY ON EARTH TO ACTUALLY READ THIS??? BUT THATS ALL OF MY THOTS ABOUT THIS THING IM INSANE ABOUT AND HAVE BEEN FOR LIKE 6 YEARS....

i will maybe draw this??? someday..maybe... RAUGH... or write a fic... I LOVE THEM SO MCUH

[thornsent]

another fucked up housing update is that there is something here with us, we're pretty sure.

When I first moved in I didn't sense or see anything here. It felt pretty liminal, transient, like a lot of people who have lived here (and there are lots, I can feel it) stayed for at most a year or two before leaving. It used to be a dorm, after all, so that informs the read there. But I didn't feel anything active here. I didn't feel any other presence, I felt rather alone aside from the spirit of the building itself, yeah?

Since right before the heat turned on it's been different. Areas of the house that are usually still pretty light at night have become oppressively dark, I went from being able to see into my partner's room down the hall to thinking her door was shut because I couldn't see a thing. It wasn't. Her room faces the moon at its peak typically but it was pitch black in there.

There has been something standing right about at the ladder to my bed, at 3 am naturally. It doesn't seem humanoid, it's more like a pillar of black smoke nearly reaching the ceiling. It's tall enough to 'look' over the top of the mattress and onto the bed. It feels heavy and it makes me genuinely nervous, and while it hasn't messed with me beyond having a strange energy it hasn't been affected by my wards either.

It's got this gravity to it.

As I write I'm theorizing it might be some kind of attachment to me but I don't think it could be what my instinct says it is, so I'm at a loss really. For context, when I was young (idk like 8) up until I was around 13 or so there would be this reoccuring figure in my dreams. He was tall, with messy black hair that's reminiscent of Robert Smith's, white skin, pure black eyes, and no mouth.

Sometimes he had feathers in his hair, sometimes he had black wings, sometimes he'd manifest more as groups of corvids (usually ravens and crows) and sometimes there was a slight glint or glow in his eyes. He looked (and behaved) a lot like Morpheus from Sandman, only this was years before I even knew that comic existed. This (and friends of mine being visited by him at one point) is kind of why I rule out this guy being just a fictive or alter.

Typically, he would appear when I was having an especially difficult nightmare. He wouldn't snap his fingers and make it all better, but it was like the dream had to warp itself around him. If I died, he would arrive at my funeral and help me out of my own coffin, for example.

But he'd show up in less frightening contexts as well. At one point I even saw him peek into my room at night, to reassure me that I was safe.

The last dream I knew was "about" him, was when I think I was 14? I walked outside of my childhood home in the dream and the ground was black. I looked closer, and it was because it was covered in dead ravens. I felt a deep, sickening sense of dread, and woke up, and never saw him again.

I've given him a few different names over the years but I don't know if he actually had one. "Lucid" was the first one I remember hearing, Then after that Lucien. Then Wraith. Then Crow. Though he never spoke a word to me.

It was more like he "spoke" in abstract concepts that he conveyed to me telepathically. No mouth and all that.

[pjs-daycare-rebooted]

Hello! Welcome to the Daycare!

I hope you’re having a good day today!

First of all, thank you for making a visit here <3 we really appreciate it!

I’m the new owner of the AU “Pj’s Daycare”! Nice to meet you!

I always loved the idea of the universe (parents turning into kids, kids turning into adults and taking care of them 😭💖) and the designs too!

The original comic was discontinued so I plan on making right from the start! I’ll be rebooting some stuff like the age, personality, surnames etc.

I hope I’ll be able to turn this AU into a better one! (If I do anything wrong, please inform me personally since I can be quite distracted in excitement sometimes 😓 I’m sorry)

Side note: Any ships in this AU aren’t canon :’3 yes even the ones I ship TvT so please don’t start a ship fight😭 anything can happen :’D yes there are boundaries like come on-

——————

Caretakers reference sheets:-

(Still working of the reference sheets)

Paper Jam (PJ)

Palette Roller

Goth Afterdeath

Gradient

Blue Screen (Blue)

Fika Melonsweet

(Other additional characters will be added later!)

——————

Children’s reference sheets:-

(Still working on the reference sheet)

Sans

Frisk

Chara

Undyne

Papyrus (Papy)

Alphys

Toreal

Argore

Betty

Amber

Core!Frisk (Core)

Swap

Fell

Error

Ink

Dream

Nightmare

Gaster sans (Gin)

Science (Sci)

FlowerFell (Red)

Sugar

Melon

Dust

Horror

Killer

Reaper

Geno

Fresh

Lust (Lulu)

Outer

Cross

Fellswap (raspberry)

Alter

Bill

Epic

Dance

Gas

Outer

(Other additional characters will be added!)

——————

Other characters reference sheets:-

Cray Spray

Elys Francis

Raven

Arno Francis

Mafia

Furry

Sprinkle

Lux

Bullet Port

Blueprint

Økse

Deneb

Neon

Morgue

Crescent

Starcross

Lucid

Kuro

Mord

Haris

Molpe

(Other additional characters will be added!)

——————

If you want to know about more information, please feel free to ask on the askbox :3

That’s all, thank you for your visit and support!♡

————

Credits:-

PaperJam and Bluescreen belongs to @7goodangel

Gradient belongs to @askcomboclub

Goth belongs to @nekophy

Palette belongs to @lasseutblogo / @lasserbatsu

Cray belongs to @weezy-pup

Fika belongs to @missladytale

Frisk, Chara, Sans, Papyrus, Toreal, Asgore, Undyne, Alphys belongs to Toby Fox

Betty and Amber belongs to Camila Cuevas (I do no support her actions)

Swap(Underswap sans) belongs to @popcornpr1nce

Fell (Underfell sans) belongs to Undertale community

Error, Geno and Freah belongs to @loverofpiggies

Ink belongs to @comyet

Dream and Nightmare belongs to @jokublog

Gaster sans (Echotale) belongs to Yoralim

Science (Sciencetale) belongs to HolyTraitor

Flower Belongs to ???

Outertale belongs to ???

Reaper (Reapertale) belongs to @renrink

Dance (Dancetale) belongs to ???

Mafia (undermafia) belongs to @undermafiaz

Horrortale belongs to Sour Apple Studios

Killer!sans belongs to @rahafwabas

Dust (Dusttale) belongs to @ask-dusttale

[catboyclarity]

for Moira 22 and 29

22. Do they have nightmares, and if yes, when did they start and what are they usually about?

Pan usually gives her nightmares on purpose most nights, starting from when he first possessed her at 13. He's got knowledge of her mind and her worst fears (losing loved ones, going out of control because of him, past memories she's repressed etc) , so he often focuses on that. Having said that, over the past couple years pre-comic he's started to lose interest in it, having exhausted most of his material and desensitized her toward it, as well as like...she can reasonably lucid dream now too. He still does it sometimes but they'd don't generally fuck her up too much anymore.

29.How do they deal with loss, stress and anger?

Kinda the premise/point of the comic! The answer is not very well. For loss, she self-blames pretty exclusively, and for the latter two, she just tries to "push through" and is kind of hitting peak burnout age for that kind of strategy to start failing on her with catastrophic results. And Un/Bound is basically about when that happens.