#now ppl are just like oh i like it but i don't want to play it unless it's remade

[lov3darlings]

saw that you wanted requests…. wb a little more fluffy take on figure skater reader x lando? maybe reader teaches him how to skate 😼 idk if this completely fits w the dynamic that you write them w tho, so if you don’t like this idea, feel free to ignore !

hav a great day :)

darlings thoughts

cw: fluff, fluff and lil sexual tension ig. obvi that 6 year age gap. also dw it does fit with the dynamic. they're the type of couple that ppl look and say 'omg he's really spoiled her.'

"i won't laugh," you promised kissing his cheek. you were trying to convince lando to go skating with you and somehow you ended up on his lap trying to bribe him with kisses.

while lando loved all of you, specially the figure skater you and your endless competitive drive. he was worried that he'd embarrass himself infront of you.

but he cannot possibly say no to you, even if he tried. besides, he's shown you all parts of him, even the parts of him that came with racing. it was only fair that he went skating with you.

"fine," he gives in. his face breaking into a smile when he sees your face light up. "but you can't laugh," he warns threading his fingers through your hairs. "i won't."

and that's how he ended up at think you train at an ungodly hour.

your laugh boomed through the empty rink, drowning out the symphony of your master and magarita program. "you said you wouldn't laugh," lando says. you skate effortlessly towards him.

"my bad," she extends out her palms for him to hold. "don't worry i got thi—" he almost slipped making you laugh harder. "come on," you grab his hands.

"you're so tensed, loosen up love," you say. "yeah, but what if i fall?" he glares at the frozen body of water beneath his skates. "you won't. i got you," you try to reassure him. "yeah like how you said you won't laugh," he scoffs at you. "well, not like that."

lando finally loosens up, standing more straight and holding onto you firmer. "see it's so much easier," you say as you skate backwards. but the older man is too busy admiring you.

he looks at you with awe as you crane your neck backwards to make sure you both won't run into the boards. the way the untucked hairs fall over your face. he moves his hand to tuck it behind your ears.

"wow," he mumbles under his breathe. "huh?" you look him. his loving gaze making you flustered. "focus on skating lando," you say. "how can i when i have this absolutely stunning angel teaching me," he cups your face.

everything blurs around you two. the symphony already died down for him even though the notes of the piano became intense. for him, it was just you and him. even forgetting he was on ice with sharp skates stapped to his feet.

"i love you," he leans down to kiss your forehead. "i love you too," you whisper adding a subtle dramatic flare to it that he missed. taking his hands in yours but slowly, retrieving your hands as you skate away.

lando stands in the middle of the rink, alone with no aid. he watched you skate away cheekily as the realization dawned upon him. he stood there with no aid. "sweetheart," he whined. "yeah?" you teased.

lando pouted, but his instincts was to follow you. taking wobbly strides to chase after you. you giggled at him but those giggles were cut short when you saw him fall.

"oh my god are you okay?" you kneel next to him. lando wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto him. "haha gotcha," he chuckled. "fuck off that's not fair," you rolled your eyes at him, laying down next to him on the ice.

"it's called throwing a dummy to overtake," he smirks. "but don't you think my acting was emmy worth? you were totally scared," he added. "i wasn’t," you argue.

"sure darling, whatever helps you sleep at night," he brings you closer to him. "now come on teach me how do i do that signature spin of your," he says. "yeah no, you'll risk an injury. you're not flexible enough. plus jon is gonna eat my head off if you get injured."

"makes sesne. but you, my love are very very flexible," his hands play with the hem of your sports bra. his attention finally lands on the master and magarita loop that was playing.

"you know i really love this program and the dress. we should get you more replicas of it. it's so pretty to tear it off of you," he whispers. "shut up," you hit his chest, blushing.

[marzipanilla]

Sometimes you just have to be a lil shit about a piece of media you enjoy in a loving way lol dumpster fire (affectionate)

Been watching OSP stuff again 'cause I was talking about one of their Superman vids and how they mention Invincible in it, and just that some of the ideas of the Superman concept really should come back around for the Mark narrative but they are def going farther and farther as things progress from what could have been an interesting Superman-esque origin in Mark. And like, do your thing, but it was clearly a reference at the start, so... why NOT lean more into it?

I know I've seen chunks of BTAS and Batman Beyond, but it's all so blurry in my brain from so long ago. I remember enjoying the shit out of them! It's why I'm having a treat with Justice Leauge rn. Bc it's like, have I see this before? maybe? at some point? Like I have the vaguest recollection of the opening credits. Zero memory of Martian Manhunter (J'onn J'onnz ?? the fuck ?? lol) having so many abilities. like damn bro. you cool asf! The very simple visual worldbuilding of all Martians being nakey bc THEY'RE SHAPESHIFTERS WHY WOULDN'T THEY BE loved it

Lazy shipping. And like.. just horny shipping. Like okay, I can be down for a UST narrative, but if you want me to buy these people have more than a case of the Horny for each other, they need to be able to describe something about each other they actually like. (I also have a whole ass rant about the Gift Of Jewelry in media -eyetwtich-) And Mark and Eve are constantly in interesting situations actually dealing with ethical shit and they could have spent so much time talking about Chicago and what cleaning up there would have meant to them, and how they operate as heroes sort of outside the establish groups for whatever reason, and they could have very naturally gravitated to each other! It really is a HS crush in this iteration !! bc the moment Mark looked at her he was just like ! oh ! hero is cute girl ! and then.. had a very intense relationship with someone else and then immediately turned around and was presented with this one. It has technically been months in the time span of the narrative, but the fact it was all shoved in and carried off RIGHT ON THE BACK of his very intense break up with Amber just feels awful. Let the boy breathe jfc.

So many people are talking about Mark supposedly improving but still not improving and it HURTS bc yeah. The narrative is really just like ACTUALLY- and it's so frustrating bc, your character can improve and the situation can still be deadly! Doc Seismic doesn't need some stupid line about things changing! They DIDN'T he's still an old man with bracelets. They just STAYED FLOATING IN THE AIR and waited for his back up to arrive and then pointlessly got into fist fights with the monsters instead of immediately going to rescue the other heroes. I can get Mark sort of zeroing in on the fighting bc he doesn't really work with other people that much, but Eve ??? why the hell isn't saving the others your priority?? The fight could still have played out badly without them needing to be stupid! Mark having to protect Eve while she works ! Them having to be on the back foot so that the people in the sack things don't get squished while they work ! You don't have to be dumb to fail. And so far it really feels like everyone is acting SO STUPID and they HAVE To fail bc it's so hard when it's like ?? the same ppl you've been fighting ?? since day one ?? Is Killcannon gunna show up and shoot you through a building now ?? I'm sorry??

We really need a Debbie/Nolan flashback that's about their dynamic and NOT their dynamic as parents. Like what was your vibe as a couple!! Love that you're horny for each other, but why did you fall in love??? Of course I am also just like CAN I PLEASE GET ONE DEBBIE FACT THAT ISN'T ABOUT THE MEN IN HER LIFE. Also, pretty sure anytime she has been around Paul the convo is in some way, actually still about Nolan and it's WILD bc damn is it really moving on if he's present in Every conversation??

Invincible (derogatory) Invincible (affectionate) depends on the time of day.

Like there's no way Cecil ISN'T using it to his benefit! But him actually caring somewhat, even knowing he would STILL betray and sacrifice the kid in a heartbeat. just. yeah. Mentor Cecil/quasi father Cecil. might happen.

The several convos we've had about trusting Cecil are SO WEIRD bc literally anytime Debbie has talked to him she has been like I DO NOT TRUST YOU and then five seconds later she's all That Bitch Lied : / and it's like ??? yes ?? you said he would ?? five seconds ago ??? why are you surprised ???

FR you don't get history classes about colonialism and police states but WE WILL make you watch teletubbies and learn about the magic of friendship! Killing is BAD kids ! Don't do it ! (unless the GDA tells you to)

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[mwagneto]

why is everyone suddenly jackdoctor posting. like i'm not complaining i've just been indescribably sick over that entire storyline for years so it's funny to see it picking up steam again

[britneyshakespeare]

i love bratz as dolls but i fuckin hate mga as a brand. fuckin idiots

[vegathenorthstar]

i am slightly scared bc this post is getting a surprising amount of traction and also bc i've been thinking about almost exclusively atla for the past twenty-four hours straight and my opinions on this have changed slightly??

i still don't tolerate maiko *slander* bc i disapprove of almost all slander. the exceptions are like if it's against elon musk or something.

and i've always kinda understood basically all criticism of maiko?? like my thoughts on that were like "yeah you're totally right they wouldn't work together but they're super funny so idc." but now i feel like i get the criticism just a little more, like no they really wouldn't work together.

there were two main things ppl said that made me reconsider how i view them. the first was just someone pointing out that in the flashback in zuko alone mai is the one who has a crush on zuko, and he doesn't really have one on her. i think i just kinda forgot that but to me it emphasizes that mai was always more interested in zuko than her was in her. tbf he did seem to enjoy spending time w her in the first half of season 3, and and opened up to her abt how confused he felt and how he wasn't really happy, but it's still pretty clear that she cared about him far more (like... at the end of boiling rock he kinda just goes "oh wow okay" and then promptly forgets about her lol).

the other thing was someone mentioned how a big part of zuko's arc in season 2 was being a beggar, and a refugee, and a customer service worker in ba sing se, and learning to do manual labor and empathize with the common people and that he wasn't innately superior to them, and that shows when he gets back to the fire nation and he's uncomfortable being waited on, and wants to walk to mai's house instead of taking the palanquin. but when mai is trying to cheer him up, she suggests they can order some servants around, or take a palanquin ride "double-time," and making that connection made me be like "ohhhh she really doesn't get him does she?"

ppl talk a lot about her fearing azula coming out of nowhere, but i still don't have a problem w that. i think the idea that mai and ty lee were secretly afraid of azula, to some degree, and that they were trapped in this toxic, controlling friendship that they always felt compelled to play along with and pretend they were having a great time in––and, perhaps, that they did still enjoy azula's company, just not all the time/with reservations, and that they also cared about each other, and both decided to stick around for the other's sake––actually fits kinda perfectly with how they're portrayed throughout the show and is very compelling. (there are certainly plenty of moments where azula treats the two of them awfully, especially ty lee––like when she mocks her for opening up in ember island––and there's that moment in the drill episode where azula tells mai and ty lee to go after katara and sokka, and ty lee is SO insistent that they do it, because azula said so––almost like she's afraid of azula's wrath.)

lowkey now i ship mai and ty lee lmaooo

but i would like to reiterate that i do still like maiko, even though i acknowledge that their ship doesn't work, bc their dynamic is so fricken hilarious to watch. a large part of why i adore "ember island" so much is because of them. it's actually a little insane bc before season 3, i knew they were a thing but could not for the life of me imagine what them interacting would possible look like––i was like "wow this is going to be the worst ship in the universe... they have nothing in common... i genuinely cannot envision them making it through a single conversation on anything remotely interesting ever..."

and then they did interact and it was perfection and every time they were on screen together i was in STITCHES bc they're incredible omg

i also just liked that zuko had someone who was even a little bit in his corner while he was stuck in the fire nation having an existential crisis.

i honestly think they would work equally well as friends? i'm not against the romance, which is why i'll still go "yeah i like maiko," but especially since i do also feel that them in a relationship doesn't work long-term i think i need more maiko friendship/best-friendship––as long as they're interacting with one another, because i NEED more of them so badly. even when they're being dysfunctional/acting cruel towards each other, i'm just like "omg peak comedy. also. pookies :D"

(i also said in a post last week that they give me gay-best-friends vibes, and i still stand by that. and yes, i do also ship zutara... pls don't ask me how that works i don't know okay it's all just ~vibes~. idk maybe everyone is bi or something. i am kinda sorta genuinely convinced mai is a lesbian tho)

so. in conclusion i guess. my stance on maiko has recently landed firmly on the side of they do not work together, romantically. but i still love them bc they're silly and toxic and stupid and very very dear to me. but i don't really ship them and i like zutara far more. but if you do ship them i'm fine w that! but maybe. i just see them as friends? and also i ship mai w ty lee (... do they have a ship name) as of like ten minutes ago?? but maiko romance doesn't bother me! i kinda like it! sometimes!

in conclusion take two. maiko (romantic or platonic) are Peak

do NOT slander maiko in my presence they r so dear to me

[piratebay]

my therapist asking if i'd tried anything other than meds drugs and/or alcohol to sleep before. like bruh. the list is long. the nighttime ritual i had as a child worked most of the time but since then nothing really has been that effective. also probably because i haven't been able to form any routine on my own without outside reinforcement. ever. much less one that works in the long term. :smiles beautifully:

[welcometogrouchland]

EXTREMELY CRUSTY but I’ve been working on oc designs in between DC prompts. My little meow meows im so sorry i neglected you (i will inevitably do it again </3)

[miralparis]

lmaooooooo

[arolesbianism]

I may be failing my plan to not make any isat aus. So there's this guy her name is Euphrasie right. What if I took her and combined what could be 3 separate au concepts into one. And in the process forced myself to go back and reread a bunch of shit to make sure I know how to maximally fuck over this sad wet puppy of a woman

[discoreptile]

Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!

[gloriousmonsters]

well on one hand another popular blog is going to piss me off seeing me on my dash now. on the other hand it's for being transandrophobic so like, at least there's some variety from the tankies?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

billions(tm): it's incredible how we just provide a little snippet of material designed to be "guy we all want to push down the stairs immediately somehow" and through this amazing acting alchemy it becomes gold. electric. magnificent. we can't get enough so we will just keep writing this loser character and the actor will somehow keep bringing the dazzling transmutation through his ability

actor will roland: [is aware autistic people are real]

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

this is a very venty post don't mind me :D

that nintendo direct was so horrible.

it was literally like 80 percent remakes and remasters.

never in my life have i seen an announcement video exist just to say "every game you've ever known since the 90s is being remade/remastered, sorry, we ran out of originality".

literally like all the video game market is anymore is remakes and the movie industry is just as bad.

the nso releases are fine because they're not like, remakes taking up full game slots. they're old games that are being made accessible and that's great... but there's no need to remake this many games when they can do that. remakes used to be rare. remember stuff like the wii u shop and stuff? with all the games they had on those things? now it's a tiny selection and everything else is a remake :/

also I feel like a lot of new rpgs are just like... lowkey fe knockoffs now instead of original rpgs.

i'm happy for like... two existing remakes, but one of them is mario rpg which people wanted waaaaAAAAAYYYY before the remake and remaster era, and the other is baten kaitos which im not actually happy about remaster-wise (the updated ui is trash, they took out very specific charms of the original ui), just happy that it will get more recognition/notice from people since it was never popular.

they also completely removed the english voice acting which like okay yeah it wasn't always that great but the voices fit perfectly and it wasn't as bad as fans meme on it for! it just sounded like they were talking through a tube and that was actually the worst part of it lol.

someone suggested to me that they may have just lost the data for it, but idk. i wish they'd just admit that somehow if it was the case, because it bugs me that the english audio is just completely gone when ultimately i really liked it. i wanted the game to be accessible to newer players, sure, but i also wanted the english audio there. ig that's because i grew up with it and i liked it, but it's still such a bummer for me!

paper mario being put on the nso and tyd getting a whole remaster does make me sad tho bc it feels like they're leaving the original in the dust when it was so good. if you're gonna do tyd, at least do them both.

good for innersloth though, i'm sure they never imagined being on a nintendo direct. they're the real winners here.

[deadrlngers]

the gang meets the friend that dumped us 6 months ago bc he got a gf and said gf. 2 deads found in the southern italian countryside

[rigels-nigels]

:p

[always-just-red]

@lunariadew asked: 'Can you write a poly fic maby like a feel good fic or date night or something with all the boys! I’m greedy and I think there’s not enough poly fics as there should be'

Nothing profound this time around! Just some good old-fashioned shenanigans. I've wanted to do a fic with all the boys for SO long (Infold, hire me to write a sitcom-style show for the guys, PLEASE) I've kept it platonic since it's early stages; it's open to interpretation about how many sparks are flying and between whom exactly..... 👀 But if ppl want more of this, I'm all over it. Platonic or romantic? I'll play it by ear!

Game Night

L&DS Boys X Reader

Summary: The most important men in your life can manage one evening together, right? For you? Please? Pretty please?

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional Tags: f!reader, some swearing, a lil conflict, non-canon (I know some of the guys probably know each-other but we're pretending they don't 😇)

| Word count: 4k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel… what do you think this is?”

The artist stands at your open door, wearing a self-assured smile and one of the flashier outfits you’ve seen him in, and that’s really saying something. Between you is a bouquet of lilies, petals curled like frozen licks of fire that compliment— deliberately, if you had to guess— the warmer fires within his eyes. Those eyes narrow at your question.

“What do you think it is?” he says suspiciously, lowering the flowers.

“…Game night?”

You’re not sure why you phrase it so tentatively. You know what it is; you’re the host. You open your door wider, stepping aside to give Rafayel a better view of the apartment behind you, and the remainder of his smile sinks.

“Hi,” Xavier calls out, and you don’t have to see him to know he’s giving a wholesome sort of wave.

“Hi…” Rafayel answers, barely more than a whisper as his eyes flit between everyone else in the room, because he’s the last to arrive. “Game night, yeah,” he nods assertively, “I knew that.” Then a deep breath: “Can I, like, put these somewhere—”

“Kitchen counter,” you gesture.

“Got it.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he skirts past the lounge and makes for your kitchen, where another bouquet already lies waiting. He zeroes in on it. “Looks like mine’s not the only heart you’re breaking tonight, huh, cutie? What are these—” he pokes at a petal— “daturas?”

“They’re her favourite,” speaks a distinctly low voice.

Rafayel doesn’t look up. He plonks his bouquet on top of the other and winces: “They’re really not, though.”

“He’s right,” you chip in, giving Sylus a sheepish smile, and now Rafayel looks up, beaming.

“She likes roses,” Zayne says, with the calm confidence he’d quote a medical journal. On the sofa beside him, Xavier nods, and you grin at them both.

“Noted,” Sylus chuckles.

Rafayel’s less convinced. “Since when?!”

“Since forever, Raf. I like lilies too, so I didn’t say anything, ‘kay?” You beckon him back to the lounge, ignoring his splutters of disbelief. “C’mere, let me introduce you to everyone.”

The man slinks to your side like a reluctant shadow, and your hands find your hips. “This is Zayne. Xavier,” you point out, putting faces to names; Rafayel’s heard stories about each. Then you nod towards Sylus. “Over there’s Skye.”

From his place by the window, Sylus lifts a hand in greeting.

“So… yeah,” you finish. Oh, wait! “Guys, this is—”

“They know who I am,” Rafayel shrugs, his fame apparently heavy on his shoulders. He glances around the room for validation, but he gets none, so he tries again. “You do know who I am, right?”

“Sorry,” Xavier admits with an awkward smile, glancing back at Sylus: you?

The man has to think about it. You know for a fact he’s traded more than one of Rafayel’s paintings for a profit, but he smirks and gives an even more exaggerated shrug than the artist himself.

Really?

“You’re Rafayel,” Zayne states plainly.

“Yeah! See, I told you, cutie—”

“You slipped on a paintbrush and checked yourself into Akso, right? The nurses still talk about it.”

Rafayel’s enthusiasm drains. He looks conflicted as he mulls over the additional information. “In, like, a good way?” he hazards.

Zayne stares back at him, wielding silence like a scalpel before cutting deeper with a: “…sure.”

You bite back a smile. Leaving the two to discuss the finer details of Rafayel’s notoriety at the hospital, you wander over to the kitchen, where you fish out a vase from the back of a cupboard. You fill it, set it down on the counter, then reach for Sylus’s bouquet. There’s a black satin ribbon; you untie it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea, sweetie?” asks the man himself, joining you discreetly.

The others can’t really hear you— they’re still talking. “What,” you smirk, retrieving your scissors from a drawer, “you worried Xavier’s gonna arrest you?”

Sylus laughs lowly, quietly. “That’s adorable.”

“Good.” You pick up a flower and trim a leaf from the stem. “Because even if he wanted to—” you wave it, just short of his face— “I’d protect you, ok?”

He regards the flower beneath his nose. Smiles smugly. “These can be toxic, sweetie.”

“Really? Whoops.” You put it down, then snatch up a lily from Rafayel’s bouquet. “En Garde!”

“These too.”

“What the hell?”

The flame-red flower drops from your fingers, and Sylus laughs more sincerely. “Stick to roses, kitten. Or…” He moves his hand over his deconstructed bouquet, his Evol pruning the rest of the leaves from the stems. A tendril of it gathers the flowers, delivering them to him so he can hold them out to you with a flourish. “Live dangerously. Who am I to judge?”

You take them, then plop them into the vase. “Cute.”

“I’m here all week,” he grins. “You’d better wash your hands, hmm?”

With a hmph of agreement, you turn to the sink. You spend half a minute, rubbing soap and warm water over your hands, and when you turn back around— still drying them— something is different. The lilies are gone. Sylus is looking at you, innocuous.

“Real mature, Skye.”

He makes no effort to defend himself. You’re about to tell him that his magic better extend to making flowers reappear when your attention is whipped back to the lounge. The voices from that side have raised, so you lean forward on your kitchen island, watching their owners in a sort of stakeout.

“I take it you have a plan,” Sylus whispers, leaning with you.        

You look at him. He looks back. “The plan is for hosts,” you scold, “not guests.” He’s much too close so you step away, reaching for the vase of daturas and holding them threateningly out, like you’re not afraid to use them. “Go back to the guests, deserter.”

Sylus lifts his hands in surrender, smirking in a way that says he knows he’s met his match. You shoo him further, back into enemy lines, then resume your stakeout. Xavier is sharing his own “embarrassing” medical story— talking about a time where he once passed out from exhaustion while fighting at your side, and you think it’s supposed to make Rafayel feel better.

It doesn’t, of course, and even Zayne is gazing down at the floor, self-conscious.

Sylus meets your eyes across the room, signals with a tip of his head: now's a good time for that master plan, sweetie.

Right. Your plan. Your master plan, yeah.

…

“You should have picked the doctor.”

Sylus’s words are near-silent: for you, not anyone else, and you pretend you don’t hear them. “But no,” he carries on, because he knows you can, “you just had to have the artist.”

“It’s Pictionary!” you snap, drawing all eyes in the room.

Lounging beside you, Sylus feigns an amused surprise, as though he hasn’t just been trying to elicit that exact reaction. On the other sofa, Zayne and Xavier stare, taken more genuinely aback. You give a smile of apology.

“Guys, concentrate!” Rafayel clicks his fingers at you. He’s stood in the centre of the space by a large drawing pad, and he goes back to frantically sketching on it. The drawing is… interesting. Abstract. Maybe even beautiful? But you don’t have a clue what it is.

“Thirty seconds,” warns Zayne, studying the little egg-timer he’s guarding.

You tilt your head at the drawing. There’s maybe a— wait, where did those extra colours come from? Where did he even get those pens? Anyway… there’s a circle. “A globe?” you guess. “Earth! No? Umm… oh! The sun! The moon!”

Rafayel shakes his head with every suggestion, adding even more intricate, unhelpful scribbles. Is that a fifth pen?! You nudge your other teammate, calling for back-up.

Sylus regards the drawing listlessly. “A unicorn.”

“What?!” Rafayel’s tone has reached a pitch that almost makes you wince. “No! C’mon, are you even trying?”

“No,” Sylus lilts with a pleasant smile, lifting the drink he’s been nursing to his lips.

You kick his foot. “A bowl of fruit!” you exclaim, determined to make up for the lack of enthusiasm. “A plate? A plate with food? Breakfast! Lunch! Dinner!”

“Time’s up,” Zayne interrupts, and it’s a mercy, really; you deflate with a sigh.

Rafayel puts his hands on his hips as he takes a step back to observe his work. He tucks four fine-liners back into his pocket— purses his lips as though he really can’t see a problem— and he’s keeping you all in suspense.

Sylus is up in an instant, stealing a card from where it’s been discarded on the coffee table. He reads the answer, then rolls his eyes. The original pen was also abandoned, so he plucks it up, then strides to the drawing pad.

He draws an oval. Then a triangle.

“A fish! A fish!” you cry out.

“You’re good at this, sweetie,” Sylus grins. He puts the lid on the pen with a click before dropping it into Rafayel’s hand.

“Is it my turn?” Xavier asks, trying to relieve the tension of the room. He gets up and smiles as Rafayel passes him the pen. “Your drawing is pretty. The composition is really—”

“Don’t,” Rafayel says. “Like, thanks? But don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Xavier chuckles.

You all prepare for the next round: Zayne handing you the egg-timer, Xavier re-organising the stack of prompt cards. Sylus takes a photo of the drawing pad before ambling back over— a moping Rafayel in tow— and they both sink down either side of you. You glance at the latter, giggling. “A fish, Raf? Really?”

“So I didn’t just wanna draw you some basic fish, ok?” The artist crosses his arms with a pout. “But fine, enjoy mediocrity, I guess.”

To your left, Sylus raises his glass in toast to the notion. There’s a noise: Xavier tearing the used page from the pad. You look up. “Xavier, can I have that?”

“Sure.” He brings it over to you.

You look at the drawing again, holding it at arm’s length and rotating it experimentally. You’re seeing a lot, but nothing that screams ‘fish’. There’s a circle, still. Oh! “It’s a fish bowl! Wait, wait, wait— is that Reddie?”

“Yeah!” Rafayel beams.

“Aww!”

The renewed team spirit drops off with Sylus; he’s on his phone, not paying attention. He seems to sense your scrutiny because he peers up, gives a ghost of a smile, then returns to whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile, Xavier is ready for his turn, so he signals for you to start the timer. You give him a thumbs up as you turn it over. “Go!”

He starts drawing.

“A car,” Zayne guesses after all of five seconds. Correct. Next. “A river? No. Oh. A snake.” Yes. “A cupcake?” Also yes. (In fairness, he was never going to struggle with that one.) “A person? Ok. Oh, a scientist, no? Ah, a doctor.” Yes again, and really— what?

Zayne continues to list correct answers, though thankfully, that’s the last of the coincidences. You watch on, vaguely in awe, until you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You check it casually, aware that Sylus is next to you, looking down at it too.

It’s a text from him: The drawing… Can I have it?

You glance up at him subtly, meeting his eyes and giving a discreet yet firm shake of your head. He frowns. You’re not having this debate here, now, so you let your gaze return to the drawing pad while idly retrieving your drink.

A few seconds later, there’s another text: Found buyer

Then another: Quarter of a mil

You almost choke on that drink.

“Umm… cutie?” Rafayel asks, poking you. He points at the timer you’ve left on the coffee table, and the top half is empty.

“Shit, yeah. That’s time!” you call.

Xavier stops drawing. The small, crude sketches behind him have reached double digits. He looks really proud. “Great! How many was that?”

His eyes find you. Zayne and Rafayel’s, too. Were you supposed to be counting? Uh—

“Eleven,” says Sylus, and it’s way too smug to be a lie.

“Awesome!” Xavier flips the drawing pad over to where you’ve been tallying point totals. He adds eleven marks to one side. “That’s—” he counts both— “ah, thirty-three to nine.”

A silence falls over the room. Unsure of what else to do, you give a half-hearted round of applause and Xavier laughs awkwardly, still humble, despite it all. “I think we’re kinda done with Pictionary, yeah?” you suggest, rising from your seat. “I should probably get started on food, anyway.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

The insistence came from Xavier, and you freeze suspiciously; he’s never turned down free food.

“You’ve already done so much,” he explains, “setting this all up for us. You should relax, really! Leave it to me.”

The word ‘relax’ is not synonymous with the image of Xavier anywhere near your kitchen, but he’s looking at you so earnestly, blue eyes brimming with warmth, and what are you supposed to say? No thanks, Xavier— I value my life? Everyone’s watching you. Gods help you. “That’s really sweet, Xavier. Thanks.”

Your fellow Hunter’s smile widens even more. He heads off to the kitchen, a spring to his step that makes your heart sink with dread. “Actually—” you glance at your ex-teammates— “could you two go help him? Zayne and I’ll tidy up over here.”

Rafayel and Sylus do as they’re asked, even though their expressions remind you that cooking is not, typically, a three-man job. It’s tactical, though. You wanted a moment alone with Zayne. “Are you ok?” you ask, once the others are out of earshot. “I know this must all be a lot. The guys can be, well… yeah.”

He knows what you mean, right?

Zayne has slipped away from the couch; he’s crouched on the floor, collecting a few prompt cards that have wandered astray. He glances up at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose. “I’m ok,” he assures with a fond smile. “Thank you, though.”

“You’re welcome.” He hands you the cards and you slot them back into their deck. Then you turn to the drawing pad. “You and Xavier make a good team, huh?”

The doctor straightens to his full height. “Mmm. It helped that we didn’t spend the entire game comparing the size of our… drawing abilities.” 

You laugh unashamedly. The pen’s still at-hand, so you pick it up— reward another point.

Zayne chuckles.

“Food’s gonna be a while.”

You both turn, following the voice back to Sylus, who has apparently decided he’s had his fill of kitchen duty. What was that— a minute? He seems to have anticipated your dissatisfaction, because he’s brought a bribe with him: the box of chocolates that had come with his bouquet. It’s already open and he holds it out, tempting you.

He’s right— you don’t know when you’ll next be eating— so you select a heart-shaped chocolate, popping it into your mouth with a smile and a muffled: “thanks.”

Sylus smiles back. Then he holds the box out to Zayne. “Doctor?”

It takes a nod of encouragement from you to prompt Zayne into taking something. He chooses a white chocolate truffle, mumbles his own thanks, but Sylus doesn’t relent— not yet. He shakes the box slightly, incitingly, and he doesn’t move it away until Zayne takes two more.

Your physician shoots you a surreptitious smile as Sylus falls back onto the couch, content he’s won your hearts, and that he won’t be sent back to the kitchen anytime soon. His long fingers lift another chocolate from the box, and he meets your eyes as he slips it slowly past his lips, humming like he’s enjoying himself.

You cross your arms, unimpressed. He gives you the least convincing look of innocence you’ve ever seen.

There’s an exclamation from the kitchen: “Hey, where did my flowers go!?” 

Shit. You hastily push the drawing pad aside then scurry over to assist Rafayel. You don’t have a plan, exactly; it’s not like you can help him look for them. “Umm… they’re around, Raf. I moved them somewhere safer, that’s all.”

“Where?”

“Uh—”

“Does it matter?” Sylus speaks from behind you, because he and Zayne are close at your heels. “She said they’re somewhere safe.” He leans on the kitchen island. “Don’t you trust her?”

Rafayel scoffs. “I trust her plenty.”

“So prove it. Drop it.”

“Skye,” you caution, “stop.”

Sylus does stop, but not because you asked. He’s done enough already, hasn’t he? Rafayel is bristling with indignance— a lit fuse— and behind him, Xavier sneakily checks the trash can, looking relieved at what he doesn’t find. He gives you a subtle glance: Where actually are the flowers?

You lift a shoulder an inch: Beats me!

There’s a soft, almost imperceptible crackle, and it draws your eyes to the vase of daturas between you all. They’ve caught light— their petals twisting, darkening, within larger flowers of fire.

“Rafayel!” you gasp. “No, no, no, the fire alarm!”

The torched flowers are encased, all of a sudden, in a fine layer of shimmering frost. Sylus blinks down at them, unmoved by their destruction. Zayne’s hand is still outstretched, snowflakes etched over his palm. Then something… odd happens. The ice doesn’t stop. It spreads over the rest of the kitchen island, to all of your bewilderment.

“Zayne?” Your voice is fraught with worry, but you don’t give a damn about your kitchen.

The man winces, and you so rarely see him out of control. The silver-white patterns have crawled up his wrist, and the ice continues to spread; even Sylus steps back. Sharp, jagged crystals start to form— inching out towards everyone.

“Zayne!” you try again.

His chest rises as he drags air through his teeth; it looks like it hurts, but the ice does stop. The others are still, suspended by momentary uncertainty, and you rush to Zayne’s side, taking his hand.

“What the hell was that?” Rafayel remarks, shaking away his surprise and thawing an icicle that’s way too close for comfort.

“He wouldn’t have needed to use his Evol if you hadn’t used yours.”

It’s Xavier, strangely— you would have expected Sylus. The Hunter’s tone is gentle as always, but there’s something behind it, this time: a frustration that lends an edge.

Rafayel hears it too. “Hey, I’m not the one who started this!” He points to Sylus. “He—”

“Has been lighting fires all evening,” Xavier finishes. “But at least his were only figurative.”

Sylus laughs, and it’s the kind of laugh where you just know he’s vying to make things worse. “Look at that,” he says, “the boy next door can bite.”

Xavier’s eyes sharpen. Beside you, Zayne slips his hand from yours. It’s an instinct you know well. This moment is volatile, and you have to be ready. It could go a dozen different ways; it’s just waiting for a spark.

“Guys,” you manage to get out, “please, just… everyone, take a breath, ok? Everything’s fine, we just have to—”

A spark.

There’s smoke. Actual smoke. “Xavier, behind you!” Zayne alerts.

It’s creeping out of the oven and Xavier turns— eyes wide— to open its door before any of you can stop him. Thicker smoke billows out, filling the air, and you all scramble away from it. The fire alarm triggers. You think Rafayel’s shouting something, but you can’t really hear him. Then Sylus is shouting. Maybe even Zayne. The alarm is piercing your ears and making you dizzy— or is it the smoke?

You feel a hand on your shoulder and suddenly everything changes.

There’s cool air, brushing over your skin, and it’s dark; you’re outside the building. You can still hear the alarm, shrill but further away, and your window is easy to spot: there’s a red light flashing behind it. Sylus leans into your vision, saying your name.

“Stay here,” he tells you, “alright?”

He’s gone in another moment, lost to a flicker of crimson-black darkness.

Gods, you’re so stupid.

…

You sit on a short wall outside of your building, and the street is full of people. You recognise most of them: neighbours. Every single one is mad at you. You’re all waiting for the alarm to cut out— for the all-clear to be given. The fire wasn’t that serious in the end, but there’s still a procedure. You would know; this isn’t exactly your first evacuation.

The guys are safe, which is good, because it means you can kill them later. They’ve all gotten lost in the throng, and your neighbours can keep them. Maybe they’ll kill them for you.  

“Hey, cutie.”

You were staring down at your feet, but you look up at Rafayel’s voice. He’s coming towards you, evoking a sense of déjà vu, because he’s clutching a bouquet of flame lilies. That’s… the bouquet of flame lilies. How?

“Skye gave ‘em back to me,” he explains, chuckling at your expression, and he’s close enough now to hold the flowers out to you. “I don’t know where he was keeping them. His Evol’s weird, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say timidly, taking the bouquet and gazing down into the petals; they still smell sweet.

Rafayel sits next to you, shuffling close, and he leans his head on your shoulder with a tired sigh. You want to be mad at him. You really, really do— but you’re suddenly not.

“I’m sorry, Rafayel.” The admission barely makes it out of your throat.

You feel his head lift. “You’re sorry?”

“I know it was just a misunderstanding,” you speak into the flowers, “but tonight… wasn’t what you were expecting, I get it. I mean, I kinda threw you into the deep end with all this. You didn’t know you were gonna be around other people, and I—”

“Whoa— cut that out, yeah? You’re killing me, cutie. I spend the whole evening causing trouble, and you’re gonna take all the blame? Nope. Not happening. It was a collaborative effort at least, ok?”

You giggle. “Ok.”  

“Good.” His head slumps back down on your shoulder, and yours tilts to rest against it. “Thanks, though. Really,” he whispers, so quiet you almost don’t notice.

Footsteps and familiar voices draw you from the intimacy of the moment. The others are wandering back to you, having finally escaped the veritable mob of your neighbours. They all look tired.

Xavier settles down on the other side of you, and Zayne sits beside him. Sylus takes a seat next to Rafayel with a huff, but he’s not half as unhappy as he’s pretending to be.

All of you sit in silence, gazes flitting between your window— where there are still glimpses of moving figures— and everyone else who’s been evacuated. For the first time all evening, the quiet isn’t tense. It’s peaceful. Easy.

“We’ll do better next time,” Zayne speaks softly.

Next time? You scoff. “Do any of you actually want there to be a next time?”

“I had fun,” Sylus chuckles. He’s taken his coin from his pocket, and he flips it, amusing himself.

“I had fun too,” Xavier grins.

“Cooking again, Xavier?” quips one of your neighbours, as they happen to pass by.

The man beside you laughs, but you can tell it’s forced. Your hand finds his; you give it a little squeeze, letting him know that it wasn’t his fault. His heart was in the right place. It’s always in the right place.

You nudge Rafayel away from you so you can sit up straighter, your free hand rubbing your arm, caressing prickled skin. You’re about to ask for a jacket when something heavy drapes over your shoulders. It’s a coat— still warm— and its owner is stood behind you; you didn’t even notice him get up.

“Thanks, Sylus,” you smile.

All eyes turn to you. What are they—?

Oh.