#self determination is not a malfunction

[spotaus]

Fun fact: Dream and Nightmare in my Ec-4o.verse setting are a package deal! They're both robots (Ectos) but their designs directly compliment eachother. Dream is (practically) an infinite power source for magical/electrical energy. Nightmare is a walking EMP that short-circuits all tech around him.

Their settings can be changed to be more or less intense, but Nightmare must be within a 2 mile radius of Dream or else he'll shut down, and Dream will start to overheat if he's too far from Night for too long.

There's a bit of animosity between them (largely due to Pre-war factors) but by the time they enter the story they're back on speaking terms.

[maxislvt]

Succubus Season

pairing(s): succubus! wanda maximoff x reader, brief natasha romanoff x reader

summary: Just when your life starts to come together, life throws another curve ball at you. Except this time it isn't a bully or a shitty English teacher. This curve ball is seven feet tall with horns and a lot of pent-up sexual energy.

warnings: jealousy, possessive thoughts/behavior, AMAB!Reader, dom!Wanda, sub!Reader, anal sex, anal fingering, prostate milking, overstimulation, cum eating, size kink (she's 7 feet tall)

a/n: Idk this is a tad self indulgent but it's Fine because it's sexy

Event Masterlist

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Adulthood came with many struggles. You made it through high school, your poor budgeting habits, and you're currently pushing your way through medical school. It wasn't easy, but your determination and pride got you through it. Now you were one step further into adulthood by owning a house. No more roommates or weird landlords. Just your own space with no one else in it.

However, you hit an unexpected bump in the road.

Moving in seemed harder than doing all the paperwork. At first, you blamed it on how far you were moving. Some of your friends were kind enough to drive anywhere from 2 to 15 hours to help you move. It was possible they were tired and didn't consider how strenuous moving was. Then things got a little bit odd. You couldn't leave a room unattended for more than half an hour without someone getting some sort of freak injury. Luckily it was nothing worse than little cuts or bruises.

Oddly, fixing up the garage proved to be the hardest part. Bucky got sent to the hospital over a spider bite. Steve's asthma suddenly kicked up — though part of that was his fault considering everyone told him it'd be a bad idea to clean a dusty room without an inhaler. A lot of them had been overcome with mysterious illnesses and your team was getting smaller and smaller.

Eventually, it was down to just you and Tony.

All that was left to do was fix your janky garage door and the god-awful cabinets. It should've been a simple job. Replacing a few doors and fixing up some gears. Unfortunately, it turned out to be nearly impossible.

"God, this stupid fucking drill." You grumbled while trying to loosen the screws holding the cabinet door together. Tool malfunctions were another thing hindering your progress. One toolbox to fix the whole house wasn't entirely effective, but the finicky handles and rather disagreeable drill bits weren't making it any better. "Son of a bitch, these cabinet doors are hideous anyways!" After another failed attempt at removing the screw, you slam the tool on the countertop with a frustrated grunt. You slammed it a bit too hard against the counter because the sound shook the whole garage.

The old gears in your garage door creaked and shook before suddenly turning to drop the door.

"Tony, look out!" You shouted before running over to catch the door. The metal door slammed down hard on your shoulder blades. "Ah, shit!" You hissed out. It took all your strength to push the door back up. "Fuck, are you okay?" You asked Tony while rubbing your bruising shoulder blades.

Tony stared up at the garage door before getting up. He anxiously cleared his throat. "Well, if that doesn't open my eyes to my old age, I don't know what will." His shaky hands smooth out his shirt before grabbing his tools. "Yeah kid, I think I'm gonna call it a day after that." An unusually shaky sigh fell from his lips as he hugged you.

You looked up at the garage door. It needed to be fixed, but nothing physical was worth the life of a friend. "Um..yeah you do that. I'll just fix it my-"

"Don't do that," Tony interrupted, knowing your history with home repair.

A grimace overtook your features, but you knew Tony was right. "Okay, I won't fix it myself. I'll try and find some company to do it." You patted Tony on the back. He wasn’t the most tan friend you had, but you'd never seen him so pale before. "We should get you a drink before letting you head home."

With that, you were down to just yourself.

Your shoulders were in too much pain for you to keep working so you called it a day. Eight o'clock was a bit early for you, but you were much too shaky to do anything else. After a quick shower and some pain cream on your shoulder blades, you called it a day. Pain and warm water turned out to be the perfect combination for sleep.

"Release me…"

You shot up and immediately looked around the room. No one else was in your room. You weren't sure if it was real, but there were goosebumps on your skin and the hairs on your neck wouldn't lay down. As scary as it was, you decided you must've left the TV on up front and ignored it.

The next morning you're a bit jarred but ready to spend the weekend cleaning.

You looked around the garage to see what you had left to do. The garage door was off-limits and you were beyond frustrated with the cabinets in there. Just when you thought it'd be a simple work day, you noticed a hatch on the roof. Odd, you don't remember there being an attic on the room list when you bought the house.

You shrugged and jumped up to bring down the step ladder. The creaking underneath your feet meant it was time for the wood to be replaced, but you decided to prioritize exploration. Which turned out not to be the best idea.

"What the fuck!?" The words slipped out before you could even think. You looked around the attic. Chalk lines drawn out to make a magical symbol that you weren't even going to pretend you understood. There were more symbols carved into the wall. In the middle of it all, there was a small table. You weren't crazy enough to step towards it but you could see a jar filled with some mysterious liquid surrounded by other magical trinkets you didn't want to touch. "...Well, I guess that's what I get for buying a three-bedroom house for less than 100,000," You whispered as you climbed down the ladder.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Now that you were terrified of your garage, you decided to focus on the less haunted part of your house.

It was a pain in the ass to move furniture and boxes by yourself, but better than a bunch of mysterious dead friends. After about a month or so, you were finally satisfied with the state of your house. The once barren walls were now filled with photographs and pairings. Long gone was the feeling of emptiness. It was your space now.

"Let me out, detka, please."

Oh, and the space of whatever freaky demon that was occupying that jar in your attic. Ignoring it was becoming harder. What started as the occasional whisper in your sleep turned into uncomfortably realistic wet dreams and a lot of ruined underwear. Now you could feel it hovering over you.

Tonight was the worst of it. Sensual kisses along the column of your neck pulled you in and out of sleep. Its hands were abnormally adventurous too. A less sleep-deprived version of yourself would've questioned the kisses on your neck, but your lack of sleep had left you a tiny bit delusional. One particular rough kiss finally woke you up properly.

The pain made you jolt up. "Fuck, you're having fun with this." You whisper despite the fact you're not sure it was listening. Your sleep shorts are stained with precum and you're painfully erect. A heavy sigh fell from your lips. "God, I hope you don't turn out to be some evil murder demon." The walk to your garage felt incredibly long. Each step added to the knot in your stomach. It was a miracle you didn't vomit by the time you stood underneath the hatch.

Your body moved as if it weren't your own. Awkward and clunky, but desperate to reach a goal you weren't too keen on. Once the ladder dropped back down your fate was sealed. You climbed up into the attic and stumbled towards the table.

For a moment just looked at the jar. Then you started laughing. "God, I am losing my mind. What is this stuff anyways, some disgusting old jam?" You scuffed with unwarranted confidence as you opened the jar.

It was not jam. Nor was it jelly or some other kind of preserve.

It was a seven-foot-tall demon. She had tinted red skin and two sets of horns sticking out of her head. You could see serrated teeth and an uncomfortably long tongue behind plum lips. You couldn't see them since they were above your head and you weren't going to risk looking away from it, but you could tell that it had claws.

The only thing keeping you from screaming your head off was not wanting to deal with a noise complaint in the morning.

"So um, can you put in on rent or are you just gonna bum out in my attic?"

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Wanda lived on Earth for thousands of years and never had she met a human more determined than you were. At first, she blamed your disinterest on her demonic form, but not even her human form could take your eyes off whatever project had taken up your time. Your focus was admirable, but Wanda was starting to get hungry.

So she decided to be more upfront about her needs.

Today, the only thing between her and a proper meal was a book. One you'd been reading for nearly an hour, but it was easier to take your attention away from that than it was from work.

Wanda laid down on your stomach and looked up at you with the softest, most desperate eyes she could muster. "I know this might come off as too much, but I'm really hungry...I just need a little something to get me through the day." Her eyes carefully watched your facial expression. Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips turned down.

"Oh, you must be starving."

Wanda was expecting a more sympathetic tone, but you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You quickly marked your page in the book and laid it down on the coffee table. "Wait right here, I'll make you something good." Part of you felt like one of those evil landlords on Reddit. You were making her pay rent but she didn't feel comfortable eating. "I have some snacks in the cabinets if you're really hungry. Help yourself to whatever."

Her fingers twitch. It's not what she wanted, but she found herself tempted. "It's fine, I can wait," She whispered. Succubi shouldn't get nervous. Wanda's hands reached out and held your waist. The benefit of being a succubus is that Wanda knows you won't deny her. Her fingers slipped underneath your shirt just to feel the softness of your skin. "What are you cooking?"

The question confused Wanda. She'd never cared about a human beyond a desire to feed off of them, but you were different. She was desperate to know more about you. Wanda wanted you in a way that she'd never wanted a human before. Thoughts of jealousy began stirring in her heart. As her fingertips explored the softness of your skin.

It didn't take long for that desire to evolve into something more deviant. Wanda found herself hating the physical space between you and her. She found herself disappointed she couldn't be inside you. As adorable as human fragility was, she couldn't stand the fact she couldn't be closer. Wanda needed to be under your skin and next to your still-beating heart. A hoodie could only make up for that half the time.

It wouldn't be much longer before she'd have to feed from you. Only you.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

It was embarrassing to admit as a succubus, but Wanda had officially gone multiple months without feeding from anyone. To rub salt in the wound, the one person she wanted to feed from seemingly had no issue sleeping around.

You were always talking up some girl and brought a new one home every other week. That was bad enough on its own, but you were always kind enough to make them breakfast or wash their clothes before sending them off. And once they were gone, you were right back by Wanda's side like nothing happened. Like you didn't just manage to play with the feelings of a succubus and send her into a jealous spiral.

Your latest adventure seemed to get under her skin like no one else before. This mysterious redhead had done quite a number on you. Dark red and purple bruises littered your neck and shoulders and you could barely stand upright. If you hadn't bashfully shooed her away, Wanda wouldn't have had a problem helping. Of course, your little fling was there to save the day.

"I didn't think you'd be able to walk after all that," The woman said with an amused tone. She sauntered up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist. Her chin rested on top of your head. "You sure you don't want me to finish those up for you? I'm a little worried you're gonna collapse on me."

You squirmed in Natasha's grasp as her fingers traced along the top of your waistband. "Y-yeah, it's fine Natasha. Just go watch TV or something…" The blush on your face is almost hot enough to cook the eggs. You don't even remember the last time someone made you this bashful. It was new. "I appreciate your offer though," You mumbled, unsure how to carry on the conversation.

"You're still shy even after last night?" Natasha asked teasingly. Her fingertips slipped into your boxers but didn't move much further past the waistband. She pushed her hips against your ass just enough for you to feel the pressure. "I think I like being right here, just like this." She whispered into your ear. Her eyes looked off to the side with a knowing smirk.

The whole scene made Wanda sick with jealousy. Her stomach churned every time you laughed at one of Natasha's jokes. Succubus couldn't throw up, but she. would've already. You were hers even if you didn't know it yet.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You felt like you were going mad.

It was getting harder to suppress your attraction to Wanda. You wish you could blame it on her interest in human clothes or all the cuddling, but neither of those was the problem. It was all your perverted tendencies. Every time Wanda crossed your mind it was always something sexual. These thoughts weren't brief either. Once you started one of your sick little fantasies, it was hard to stop. You were washing 20 pairs of underwear a week with how much precum you were leaving.

Your growing relationship with the demon only made things more complicated. Wanda seemed to become more physically affectionate by the day. Her human form was cute but it was her natural form that seemed to be giving you the most trouble. The shock of meeting a demon for the first time had worn off and you began to notice the small details. If your dick would appreciate them as well.

The only thing it seemed to care about was how big Wanda was. Especially when she was using you as her body pillow. The softness of her breast pressed against your chest and it was driving you mad. You were so focused on not getting a boner that you completely drowned out the noise from the movie.

As fun as watching you squirm and wiggle, Wanda had waited long enough.

She sat up on your lap, straddling your hips with her thighs. Wanda's hand slipped underneath your shirt to keep you pinned to the couch. Her claws lightly scratched at the sensitive skin. "It's cute you think I can't tell how turned on you are right now." A satisfied chuckle escaped her lips as you sucked your breath. "Don't think I haven't heard all those nasty little thoughts in your heads."

Your eyes followed Wanda's fingers nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me!" She toyed with the hem of your shorts. You were at a loss for words. It wasn't like you could deny your feelings with your dick hard as a rock. “I know we’re like roommates, but we don’t have to do anything!” Embarrassment wasn't good enough to describe how you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Wanda ripped off your shorts in one swift motion. “Oh detka, I want to be something more than just roommates.” Her long tongue licked the precum oozing from your neglected tip. It left a savory taste in her mouth that she couldn't help but enjoy. “God you don’t know how hard it was to live knowing you were wasting this stuff on girls who couldn’t make you feel half as good as I do.” Her free hand massaged your balls as she took your length inside her mouth. They weren’t as full as she would’ve liked them to be, but Wanda knew she would have access to them whenever she wanted them. Self-control was quickly flying out the window. Her hunger was starting to take over and she no longer had it in her to go slow for your sake. Wanda needed your cum and she needed a lot of it. “Do you know the best part of having sex with a succubus?”

The pleasure alone had your head spinning. “W-what?” It wasn’t a response to her question, but rather a moment of shock at Wanda’s confession. You weren’t well versed in the land of demons, but you didn’t think Wanda was anything like that. Was she gonna eat you? Maybe you should’ve asked more questions rather than worrying about her paying rent.

Her hand wrapped around your dick and began stroking slowly. She leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “I know exactly how to fuck you senseless.” Wanda hooked your legs over her shoulders. This time, Wanda's tongue went straight for your asshole. She watched your eyes roll to the back of your head with a satisfied smirk. No one's ever fucked you this way. It's almost impossible for her tongue fuck you the way she'd like but your whining makes up for it.

You're a mess. It felt like your insides were melting, but you were too overstimulated to even consider pushing back. You were usually the one on top and doing all the teasing. Now it was near impossible for you to speak without moaning and stumbling over your own words. "F-fuck, I'm close. Please don't stop, I'm gonna cum!" Your hands grabbed Wanda by her horns and pulled her closer to your ass.

Wanda hummed against you. You looked so cute when you were desperate to cum. She pushed your shirt up to your chest and signaled for you to hold it up. Of course, you do it without question. That mindless obedience would get you far. Wanda's tongue pressed down against your prostate. Milking you was a bit much for your first time doing anal, but Wanda wasn't going to hold back.

You couldn't even speak. It was just a string of desperate moans in place of words. The knot in your stomach bubbled up and snapped suddenly. Cum shot out of you in sticky, hot ropes. Your orgasm was almost never ending. Every time you thought it was over, she'd keep pushing you.

Wanda kept milking you until you'd gone soft. Her tongue slipped out of your hole. She wasted no time licking up the cum dripping down your chest and stomach. A deep, guttural moan escaped her lips at the taste of your cum. Her eyes glowed a deep red for a brief second. Wanda looked into your eyes and smirked. "I never want to see you with anyone else. Got it?"

You looked into her eyes and suddenly felt so tired. It was like a trance. There were a lot of questions going through your mind but you were too weak to ask any of them. "Got it." Was the only thing you could manage to say.

Wanda affectionately scratched your head. You were like a pet to her. "Let's get you cleaned up," She kissed your cheek before lifting you up and taking you to your bedroom.

You were grateful for her immense strength and gentleness. There was no way you'd be able to walk all the way to your room after that. You only vaguely heard Wanda's request that you not fall asleep while she prepared a bath for you. As tired as you were, there was something subconsciously urging you to stay awake as she requested. You rolled over slowly when Wanda returned from the bathroom. "Are you like…in my head forever now?" You asked sleepily.

Your question caught Wanda off guard. She didn't answer your question at first. Instead, she rolled you onto your stomach. It was only then that she had the answer to your question. "It appears so." She said calmly. Her fingers traced the tattoo now permanently etched into your skin. "Don't worry, I'll be kind to you..if you behave."

[cannabiscomrade]

I’m remaking my disability poll after getting feedback from other disabled/chronically ill people!

Please reblog and vote again if you don’t mind.

In this poll: neurodivergent means anyone who is not neurotypical, including mental illness, developmental disability, neurological malformations and malfunctions, traumatic brain injury, etc. Some of these can overlap with physically disabled, pick the category that is closest to your experience.

A chronic illness is a condition/disease that lasts longer than 3 months, they are sometimes lifelong and often go through periods of flare ups and remissions.

I have multiple chronic illnesses and I’m neurodivergent, and I consider myself disabled. This is a self-determination, I’m not trying to pressure anyone into voting a certain way. But these are some of my conditions and how I label them for myself based on how I experience them/how disabling they are for me, that may help determine how you see your own conditions:

Gastroparesis (CI/disability- 100% tube fed)

IBS-D (CI)

dysautonomia (likely POTS) (CI/disability)

PCOS w/ hyperandrogenism (CI and intersex condition)

Asthma (CI/disability)

Migraine disorder (CI/disability)

Hashimoto’s (CI)

Chronic pain from knee injury (disability)

Astigmatism (disability- need glasses)

Able-bodied + neurotypical people please boost this ☀️

[fateandfragments-fanfiction]

Through Time and Together - F!Reader x Caelus

Honkai Star Rail

Caught in a relentless time loop aboard the Astral Express, Reader must relive the same day over and over, with her only hope of escape tied to confessing her feelings for Caelus.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

[Name] had been through enough anomalies in her life, but this—this was something new. She awoke on the Astral Express, the soft hum of the train and the faint scent of brewing coffee signaling the start of another day. Except, it wasn’t just another day. It was the same day. Again.

She groaned, sitting up in her cabin and rubbing her temples. The first time she’d noticed the repetition, it had been mildly frustrating. By the tenth loop, it had become maddening. No matter what she did, the day always ended with her standing on the observation deck, watching Caelus disappear into a shimmer of light after a particularly heart-pounding confession… that she never managed to return before the loop reset.

Her goal was simple: break the loop. The problem? She had no idea how to do it.

Loop 11 started the same way: Pom-Pom knocking on her door with their usual chirpy, "Good morning, [Name]!" She groaned inwardly but forced a polite smile, knowing it was pointless to argue with the adorably stubborn conductor.

As she wandered to the dining car for breakfast, she caught sight of Caelus sitting alone, his usual air of quiet determination making her stomach twist. Somehow, this loop always revolved around him. Maybe the universe had a sick sense of humor.

“Morning,” he said, glancing up at her with a small smile. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

She slid into the seat across from him, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Yeah, just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Something on your mind?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious.

[Name] hesitated. She could tell him the truth, but the last few loops had taught her that being blunt only led to confusion—or worse, dismissal. Instead, she tried a different approach. “Just a weird feeling. Like… déjà vu.”

He raised an eyebrow, but before he could respond, March bounded into the car, her usual enthusiasm cutting through the tension. “There you are! We’ve got an adventure today, remember?”

Ah, yes. The mission. It always played out the same way: the crew traveled to an abandoned planet, stumbled upon an anomaly, and nearly got themselves killed before Caelus made some grand, self-sacrificial gesture that left her reeling. And then… the loop reset.

This time, [Name] decided to mix things up. Instead of following the usual plan, she stuck close to Caelus, subtly altering the timeline. She made sure they didn’t split up during the exploration of the ruins, intervened when Dan Heng’s equipment malfunctioned, and even convinced March to let her take the lead when they encountered the anomaly.

But as the day unfolded, she realized the core problem wasn’t the mission—it was her inability to confront her feelings. Every time she tried to speak to Caelus, the words caught in her throat. She’d defused bombs, analyzed ancient artifacts, and outsmarted interstellar criminals, yet telling someone how she felt seemed impossible.

By Loop 23, [Name] was losing patience. She stormed into the ruins ahead of the others, determined to get answers from the anomaly itself. Caelus caught up to her, his brows furrowed in concern.

“[Name], what’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all day.”

She turned to him, frustration bubbling over. “What’s going on? I’m stuck, Caelus. I’m stuck in this stupid time loop, reliving the same day over and over again, and it’s your fault.”

He blinked, taken aback. “My fault?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “Every time, it’s you—your sacrifice, your stupid heroic nonsense, and I’m left standing there, unable to stop you or tell you—” She froze, the words catching in her throat.

“Tell me what?” he asked softly, stepping closer.

Her frustration melted into exasperation. “That I—” She bit her lip. This wasn’t how she wanted to say it, but there was no backing out now. “That I care about you, okay? That I can’t stand watching you leave. And if this loop keeps resetting until I figure this out, then fine—I care.”

Caelus stared at her, his expression unreadable. For a horrible moment, she thought she’d miscalculated. But then, he smiled—a warm, genuine smile that made her chest ache.

“You could’ve said something sooner,” he said lightly, his voice tinged with amusement.

She gawked at him. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for weeks,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But every time I tried, you’d get this look like you were ready to bolt. So I backed off.”

[Name] blinked. “You… you feel the same way?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone soft. “But I wasn’t about to pressure you. Figured you’d come around eventually.”

Her cheeks burned, but before she could respond, the anomaly flared to life, bathing them in a golden light. The ruins trembled, and for a terrifying second, she thought the loop was resetting again. But then the light faded, leaving them standing in silence.

“Did we just… break the loop?” she asked, glancing around.

Caelus smirked. “Looks like it.”

Relief and exhaustion washed over her, and she laughed—a genuine, cathartic laugh that eased the tension in her chest. “Finally.”

He reached for her hand, his touch grounding. “So… where do we go from here?”

She squeezed his hand, her smile softening. “Anywhere but back.”

And for the first time in weeks, the day moved forward.

-----

The following morning on the Astral Express felt… different. [Name] woke up with a sense of lightness she hadn’t felt in weeks—or rather, in loops. The day wasn’t resetting, and she could finally move forward. As she stretched and got ready, a small smile tugged at her lips as she remembered the previous night.

Caelus had held her hand the entire walk back to the Express, his warmth a quiet reassurance. They’d talked late into the night, sharing stories and laughter, and for the first time, she allowed herself to let her guard down completely with him.

By the time [Name] made her way to the dining car, she spotted Caelus already seated, casually sipping his coffee. His silver hair was still slightly tousled from sleep, and the sight made her heart do a little flip.

“Morning,” he said, his voice warm as she slid into the seat across from him.

“Morning,” she replied, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Their usual banter was still there, but there was something undeniably different in the way he leaned toward her, the way her gaze lingered on him. It wasn’t long before the change caught the attention of the others.

March, balancing a tray of pancakes, stopped mid-step. Her eyes widened, and a grin slowly spread across her face as she noticed how close they were sitting. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, plunking her tray down at their table. “Did I miss something? Are you two…?”

[Name] glanced at Caelus, whose calm demeanor didn’t falter in the slightest. He simply shrugged and gave March a knowing smile. “What do you think?” he asked, his tone teasing.

March gasped dramatically, looking between them. “Oh my Aeons, you are! You’re together! This is the best thing that’s happened all week.”

[Name] rolled her eyes, though the flush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “March, calm down.”

“Calm down?!” March practically vibrated with excitement. “This is huge! Dan Heng! Get in here—you’re not going to believe this!”

“Believe what?” Dan Heng’s voice came from the doorway. He stepped in, his calm expression shifting to mild curiosity as he approached. “What’s going on?”

March pointed at [Name] and Caelus like she’d just uncovered the galaxy’s biggest secret. “They’re dating!”

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the two. “Dating?” He studied their expressions, then gave a small nod. “Makes sense.”

March’s jaw dropped. “Makes sense? That’s all you have to say?”

Dan Heng shrugged, his tone matter-of-fact. “They’ve had chemistry for a while. It was only a matter of time.”

[Name] groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Can we not make this a spectacle?”

“But it is a spectacle!” March insisted, clasping her hands together. “You two are, like, the perfect couple. How did it even happen? Was it a grand confession? Did someone almost die? Wait, don’t tell me—was there a kiss in the rain?”

Caelus chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Something like that.”

“Oh, come on!” March pouted. “You’re holding out on me.”

“Let them have their privacy,” Dan Heng interjected, though there was a faint hint of a smirk on his face. “Not everyone wants their life narrated like one of your dramas.”

March sighed dramatically but relented. “Fine, fine. But I expect details eventually.”

Throughout the day, the shift in [Name] and Caelus’s relationship became more apparent. They moved as a seamless unit, their usual bickering now tinged with playfulness. During their next mission briefing, [Name] leaned slightly into Caelus’s side without realizing it, and he absently rested his hand on the back of her chair.

March kept nudging Dan Heng with exaggerated winks, while Dan Heng, ever composed, simply raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment.

It wasn’t until later that evening, when the crew gathered in the parlor car for a game of cards, that March couldn’t resist teasing them again.

“You know,” she said, shuffling the deck, “it’s so nice to see you both smiling so much. Love really does change people.”

[Name] narrowed her eyes, though the faint blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “March, if you keep this up, you’re going to regret it.”

“Regret what? Supporting my favorite new couple?” March grinned, clearly enjoying herself.

Caelus leaned back in his chair, utterly unbothered. “She’s just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?” March huffed.

“That she doesn’t have someone to share her pancakes with,” Caelus quipped, his tone deadpan.

The table erupted in laughter, including Dan Heng, who rarely showed such open amusement. March crossed her arms, pretending to sulk, but her smile betrayed her.

-----

That evening on the Astral Express had settled into a comfortable rhythm, the crew’s laughter and the shuffle of cards filled the car. [Name] leaned back in her chair, watching Caelus bluff his way into another win, his smirk betraying his feigned confidence. She was mid-eye roll when the door opened, revealing Welt and Himiko entering with their usual composed demeanor. Pom-Pom followed close behind, their small frame practically radiating curiosity.

Himiko glanced at the table, her sharp eyes immediately catching the relaxed closeness between [Name] and Caelus. “What’s this?” she asked, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Seems like we’ve walked in on something interesting.”

Pom-Pom tilted their head, their antennae twitching. “Ooooh, are we playing cards? Can I join?”

March was the first to answer, her grin lighting up the room. “Oh, Pom-Pom, you can definitely join, but first—you missed the big news!” She turned to Himiko and Welt, clearly relishing the moment. “[Name] and Caelus are a thing now!”

[Name] groaned, slumping forward onto the table. “March. Please.”

Himiko arched an elegant eyebrow, her lips curving into an amused smirk. “A thing, you say? That’s quite the development.”

Welt stepped closer, adjusting his glasses as he observed the group. His gaze lingered on Caelus, who, to [Name]'s surprise, looked entirely unfazed by the sudden scrutiny. “Interesting,” Welt said thoughtfully. “Though, I can’t say I’m entirely surprised.”

“Not you too,” [Name] muttered, peeking up from behind her hands.

Pom-Pom hopped up onto an empty chair, their voice full of excitement. “Wait, wait! Does this mean you’re boyfriend and girlfriend now? Like, officially?”

Caelus chuckled, his tone teasing as he replied, “Well, I did think saving each other from time anomalies was a pretty good start.”

[Name] shot him a glare, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Only because your reaction is so adorable,” he quipped, leaning back in his chair with a grin that made her want to simultaneously roll her eyes and smile.

Himiko let out a low laugh, taking a seat across from them. “I have to say, this is a side of you I don’t often see, [Name]. It’s nice.”

[Name] straightened, determined to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s not that big a deal,” she insisted, though her voice lacked its usual conviction.

“It’s a huge deal,” March chimed in, shuffling the cards with theatrical flair. “You two have been dancing around each other forever. I’m just glad the universe finally pushed you together.”

“Pushed might be putting it lightly,” [Name] muttered under her breath, though she couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

Welt’s expression softened as he regarded the pair. “Sometimes the universe has a way of aligning things when we least expect it. And from what I’ve seen, you complement each other well.”

“Wow,” Caelus said, his grin widening. “That almost sounds like a blessing.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Welt replied dryly, though his eyes glimmered with quiet amusement.

Pom-Pom, still buzzing with energy, clapped their tiny hands together. “So, are we celebrating? This feels like a reason to celebrate!”

“We’re already celebrating,” March declared, dealing out the cards with enthusiasm. “The best way we know how—with cards, competition, and shameless teasing.”

Himiko leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think I’ll join in. Watching [Name] try to keep her cool sounds like too much fun to pass up.”

[Name] groaned again, but this time it was accompanied by a laugh. She met Caelus’s gaze across the table, his eyes warm and steady, and she realized she didn’t mind the teasing as much as she thought she would. For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

[Name] shook her head, muttering something under her breath about the Express turning into a soap opera, but the faint smile on her lips betrayed her. Caelus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as March dealt the next hand.

“Alright, everyone’s in,” March announced, her grin practically sparkling with mischief. “Pom-Pom, Himiko, Welt—prepare to lose. And [Name], try not to let Caelus distract you too much.”

“I will end you,” [Name] shot back, narrowing her eyes at March. Her tone was dry, but there was a playful edge to it.

“I’m just saying,” March teased, “you’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes, and it’s not gonna help your poker face.”

[Name] opened her mouth to retort, but Caelus cut in, smirking. “She always has a dreamy look when I’m around.”

The table erupted into laughter. Even Dan Heng let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he observed the chaos unfolding. Himiko leaned back, clearly enjoying herself, while Welt’s small smile suggested he was filing away this interaction for future amusement.

“Pom-Pom!” March called, waving at the conductor. “What do you think of our new power couple?”

Pom-Pom tilted their head, tapping a paw against their chin. “Hmm, I think it’s nice! But as the conductor, I must say, any excessive PDA on the Express could be a distraction.”

[Name] groaned, her head dropping into her hands. “I can’t believe I’m getting a lecture on professionalism from Pom-Pom.”

“It’s an important part of running a ship!” Pom-Pom replied with a sage nod. “But, um, I guess a little hand-holding is okay.”

“Good to know we have your approval,” Caelus said smoothly, reaching over to take [Name]'s hand in his. She glared at him, but the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.

“And yet you like me anyway,” he quipped, his grin downright cheeky.

March clapped her hands together. “Okay, okay, back to the game before this turns into a romance novel. Welt, your turn!”

The game resumed with its usual blend of banter and competition, though it was impossible to ignore the way [Name] and Caelus occasionally glanced at each other, their expressions softer than before. Even when the teasing quieted down, the shift in their dynamic was undeniable, radiating through the room like a subtle, comforting warmth.

Himiko leaned toward Welt as the game progressed, her voice low but audible enough to [Name]. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day. [Name], of all people, finally letting someone in.”

Welt nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a good thing. She’s always been so self-reliant, but even she needs someone she can trust completely.”

[Name], overhearing them, shot them a look. “I can hear you, you know.”

Himiko didn’t even blink. “Good. You should hear it. We’re proud of you.”

The sincerity in her voice caught [Name] off guard, and for a moment, her usual wit failed her. She glanced at Caelus, who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. His silent support steadied her in a way she wasn’t used to—but found herself welcoming.

Later that night, as the others drifted off to their own routines, [Name] and Caelus found themselves alone on the observation deck. The stars stretched out endlessly before them, their light dancing across the dark expanse of space.

“So,” Caelus said, breaking the comfortable silence, “how does it feel to be the center of everyone’s attention?”

“Exhausting,” [Name] replied, leaning against the railing. “But… not as bad as I thought it’d be.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “I think you handled it pretty well.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who made it bearable,” she admitted, her voice softer than usual. “I don’t know how you stay so calm with everyone poking at you.”

“Years of practice,” he said, his tone light. Then, more seriously, “But it’s easier when I’m with you.”

[Name] turned to him, her usual sharpness tempered by something gentler. “You’re good at this, you know.”

“At what?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Making me feel… okay. Even when everything feels like it’s spinning out of control.”

He smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “That’s the thing about us, [Name]. We make each other okay.”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself lean into the moment, into him. And as the stars shimmered around them, she realized that, for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

~Fin~

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Yup, double-protag posts. Happy Thanksgiving to my US readers!

[pinkiemachine]

GOTHAM FILES: SEASON 4

Jason Todd is dead. Bruce Wayne will never be the same. He stops going to and hosting galas, the paparazzi haven’t seen him in months—his own company hasn’t seen him in months—and the only times his closest friends and family ever see him is when he’s Batman. He’s barely left the Cave. He’s barely eating. He’s not talking to anyone. He’s beating villains to a pulp even more than usual, and he’s obsessed with trying to track down the Joker. This time… it might not matter if he’s set himself against killing… this time… maybe he just doesn’t have the self control. He wants revenge. Everyone is worried about him, and not Dick, not Barbara, not even Alfred can get through to him.

Enter Tim Drake (13).

Tim was a rich kid who lived in the same neighbourhood as Bruce—just down the road at another fancy-pants house with wealthy parents and a lavish lifestyle. The most notable thing about him, however, is that he’s got a genius level IQ… and he’s a fanboy of Batman. He had scoured the internet for clips of him caught on tape, had written a college-level paper about him in high school (Because he got moved ahead two grades), and at the moment, he’s getting worried about his hero. If what he’s seeing is correct, Batman is… starting to go off the deep end. The last criminal found by the police was barely breathing, which is not the Caped Crusader’s style. Something is wrong. Tim wants to find some way to talk to him (1, because he wants to meet his hero, and 2, because surely these extreme take-downs have a reasonable explanation, like there’s another vigilante in town doing this, or something). The deeper Tim goes, the more the name Bruce Wayne keeps popping up. It’s mostly just coincidences, though—the two of them never crossing paths despite the fact that Batman has saved Wayne Ent. before, Bruce Wayne coming back to Gotham after vanishing for eight long years, and then just a few months later, the Batman rumour started, stuff like that. But again, Tim can’t count them as anything more than coincidences… until he hears his parents talking about their neighbour Bruce. He hasn’t been seen or heard from for a long while now, and when they tried to phone, to ask if they could invite him over for dinner like old times, the butler said that Bruce wasn’t accepting any invitations right now. And this on the heels of the recent Robin vanishing? Tim had to check it out. Maybe Bruce was funding Batman’s exploits—like they were working together?

So one day, after school, he goes and spies on Wayne Manor. The rumours are true—Bruce does only have one butler. Weird for a guy as rich as him, especially in a house as big as this. And sure enough, he never caught any glimpses of Bruce in the manor, despite the fact that the butler had made it sound like his employer was home. Tim can’t be there all the time, though, so he sets up cameras to monitor the house. The next day, he finds the cameras all broken laying on his bedroom balcony. Now he’s even more determined to figure out what’s going on. So he hides one more camera extra well and he manages to catch a glimpse of a dark car that looks a lot like the Batmobile leaving the grounds of the house, but not on the main road. He has to do some triangulating and other smart stuff to figure out where the car had come from and eventually discovers a hidden entrance. To what, he’s not sure, but he’s getting excited. So he uses his big brain to fiddle with the wires of the special door he finds behind a waterfall and then he follows a dark tunnel into—THE BATCAVE. He’s flabbergasted. This has been here all this time!? He spends way too much time down there, geeking out, then tries to get a grip. He doesn’t know when Batman will be back, he has to decide what he’s going to do now.

Batman gets an alert that one of the secret doors to the cave is malfunctioning, so he heads back. He runs into the cave, expecting a criminal, but instead finds a 13-year-old boy sitting at the Bat Computer, waiting for him. Immediately, Batman tells him to get out. Tim tries to ask a few questions—respectfully, at first—like, are you okay? What happened to Robin? What’s been going on with you lately? But he sort of answers his own questions now that everything’s been laid out in front of him… and the Robin suit is right over there, in a glass case. Batman continues to get more and more aggressive with Tim, trying to physically force him to leave and threatening him and his parents if he ever thinks about spilling his secret identity, and just like that, Tim is banned from Wayne Manor. But he’s not giving up. His hero needs saving. He needs a Robin. (Or, that’s how he views it, anyway.)

While Tim was in the cave, he thought about stealing some gadgets, but he knew Bruce would catch him. Instead, he stole their blueprints on a hard drive and makes his own *improved* versions. He also makes his own Robin costume and away he goes, sneaking out one night to find Batman in Gotham. Which he does… followed immediately by Batman getting angry at him again and telling him to go home. Tim stands his ground, though. He’s not going to leave his side until he knows that Bruce is okay. This isn’t him, this isn’t Batman, he needs a reality check. He needs to be a hero again! Over and over this happens, with Tim pressing in more and more, following him around on missions until finally Bruce breaks. Silently, he takes Tim to the cemetery where Jason is buried. Tim pays his respects. Bruce asks if Tim has ever lost someone he cared about. Tim says no. But even so… he doesn’t want to lose Batman. Bruce hasn’t realised it, but he’s been making an incredible difference in Gotham. The streets are, by and large, getting safer. The police force is starting to shape up. He’s inspired other vigilantes to rise up, like Batgirl. He’s saved the world with the Justice League! He’s a hero! Or, at least, he was… until he started going dark. Maybe he just needs to take a break from being Batman for a while—

“No!”

Bruce won’t let Tim finish. He could never stop being Batman. Batman is the only thing keeping him going right now. It was his training that kept him from tearing himself up over his parents death, it was being Batman and saving the world with Robin that helped him get to an even better place, and right now, if he stops fighting, the only thing he’ll be left with is the empty Manor and memory of Jason and how he couldn’t save him. Tim takes his arm and invites him to go on a little trip. Tim’s dad sometimes takes him out to their second house in the country where they go fishing at the lake. It’s quiet out here. The trees are nice. The water’s nice. Tim and Bruce just shoot the breeze and catch some fish together. And Bruce… doesn’t have a terrible time. Tim can be a little pushy and he might think he’s got all the answers (when he really doesn’t) but he’s a hoot to watch when he tries to be “outdoorsy.” He’s not exactly the best at setting up his rod, or casting the line, or catching the fish, or basically anything to do with fishing, so Bruce ends up having to help him out, and… it turns into a nice little day trip. Bruce isn’t healed… and he’ll probably never heal… but at least… at least now he doesn’t feel completely alone. Tim makes sure that he never feels alone. He keeps following him on missions, and Bruce eventually just accepts that he’s got a new Robin now. But he’s not going to make the same mistake twice. He’s very strict with Tim and makes sure that he never disobeys orders. If he puts one toe out of line, he’s done.

On into the season we go, meeting new villains like Cluemaster, and also new heroes, like his daughter, Spoiler. She was fed up with her abusive, criminal father, and decided to help out Batman by spoiling his elaborate schemes. Once they helped take down Cluemaster together, Spoiler began to pop up again… a lot. She’d developed something of a crush on Tim, you see. And he was about to meet his match in terms of someone who’s persistent. Bruce thought it was very satisfying karma.

Nightwing and Batgirl are both let back into Bruce’s life over time, and things begin to move forward again.

The Hush storyline takes place in this season.

THEN Tim’s parents find out about his vigilante shenanigans and force him to stop, prompting Spoiler to temporarily take up the mantle of Robin. But then she and Bruce get into trouble, and Tim sees what’s happening live on the news, and he knows that he has to do something! Tim’s struggle to remain loyal to both his parents and his duty as a crime-fighter leads him to have a big argument with his dad. Like, “if you put on that mask again, we’re cutting you out of the will” kind of big. Which then escalates to, “I’d rather be poor and save Bruce’s life than be rich and let him die!” Which then leads to Tim getting kicked out. His father secretly hopes that this method of “tough love” will snap Tim out of the stupid ideas he’s got in his head, and that sooner or later he’ll come running back, but… all this does is hurt Tim tremendously. But there’s no time to wallow just now. He’s got to get to the Batcave! He goes, he helps save the day, Batman and Spoiler are alive, she hands the title of Robin back to Tim, and Tim explains about his situation to Bruce. When Bruce tries to fix things, though, Tim and his dad refuse to speak to one another. For the moment, it looks like Tim will be staying at the Manor.

Throughout this whole season, though, something’s been brewing in the background. Ra’s is moving again. He’s been popping up a little bit here and there over the last few seasons, but it’s nothing noteworthy. No big schemes… except for when he tried working with the Joker back at the end of Season 3. Ra’s was trying to cook up a new plan that involved Jason, but it had to get scrapped when Joker went off script and blew up the building. Now Joker’s on Ra’s “I don’t like you” list. Which is an extensive list. Anyway, Ra’s does still want Bruce to marry Talia and join the family business, so before the funeral, way back when, he went and stole Jason’s body in the dead of night. Jason is then brought to the League’s secret headquarters in Nepal where it’s revealed how Ra’s has been able to master all these fighting forms to perfection: he’s hundreds of years old! And he’s been keeping himself alive using a secret “Fountain of Youth” called the Lazarus Pit. With it, he brings Jason back to life.

DUN DUN DUN!!!!

END OF SEASON JUMP SCARE!!!

Oh, and after this season comes THE NEW TEEN TITANS and YOUNG JUSTICE!!! See, Tim gets a look at how the TTs are kinda not really teens anymore… and the team hasn’t really been active for a while… shoot, one of the members is a Justice Leaguer now. So he comes up with the idea for Young Justice, the B team as it were for the Justice League. Meanwhile, he revamps the Teen Titans (the NEW Teen Titans) and sets it up as like a training thing for young superheroes who might go on to join Young Justice or The League. ✨

Stay tuned for more!

Part 5 👇

Part 3 👇

[prokopetz]

I have a pinned post for my games in development, but it doesn't really describe what they're about, and apparently this is something we're doing today, so:

My games in development, in rough order of priority:

(Note: all of these have public playtest drafts behind the links.)

Eat God

A game about weird little anarchist muppets with reality-warping powers themed after classic Looney Tunes gags wandering around a classic sword-and-sorcery fantasy setting stirring up trouble. Roughly 50% character creation rules by volume, with provisions for randomising every part of it; the linked draft, above, includes an online character generator if you want to play with it. The mechanics are a sort of elaborated spiritual successor to Costume Fairy Adventures, a game whose development I headed up about a decade ago.

Current status: actively writing, hopefully zeroing in on a feature-complete playtest draft within the next month or two.

Tiny Frog Wizards

One of my customarily literal titles, this is a game where you play as wizards who are tiny frogs. Features elaborate semi-freeform rules for casting spells, lots of big stupid random tables for when spells go off the rails, and absolutely no mechanics for anything that isn't casting a spell; it's a very focused sort of game. Narratively, it's a game about being an overpowered little twerp sticking your nose into other people's problems and offering solutions no-one asked for. Portions of the rules crib shamelessly from @jennamoran's Nobilis 3rd Edition, for which I offer acknowledgement but no apologies.

Current status: development of the text has been set aside for the moment to work on visual identity, with an eye toward crowdfunding an expanded hardcover edition later in the year.

Space Gerbils

A tactical mecha combat game with a very silly twist: the entirety of the tactical positioning occurs inside the mecha, because the game's premise is basically "what if instead of the Big Reveal at the end of Metroid (1986) being that Samus Aran is secretly a girl, Samus Aran was secretly 3–5 small gerbil-like creatures operating a person-size mech suit?" Players engage in positional jockeying and resource management to determine which stations they're crewing within the suit, which is boiled down to a single roll of the dice to determine what happens outside the suit. Includes papercraft minifigs.

Current status: essentially feature-complete, apart from some character creation options and a planned random mission generator; this will likely be the next game I crowdfund after Tiny Frog Wizards.

Indie RPG Prompt Generator [working title]

Essentially a joke that got out of hand, this is a big set of random tables of common indie RPG tropes that you can roll on to generate a description of a hypothetical game, complete with specific rules toys and setting beats. I probably could have finished this up already, but I decided to include examples of each rolled element, which turned into this big hairy research project I'm not able to give adequate attention to right now. If you've got a game of your own that you think would be a good fit for a presently unfilled example slot, please, let me know!

Current status: plugging away at it in bits and pieces as I'm able.

Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat

This is an anthology consisting of three minigames: the eponymous Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat, which is self-explanatory; Unfamiliar, in which you play as uncooperative wizards' familiars; and System Crash, in which you play as malfunctioning robots. More a series of formal experiments in character creation and group composition than proper full-featured games, all share the same core mechanics, with milieu-specific addons of varying practicality; for example, System Crash has specific rules for which senses each player is allowed to use when asking the GM for information, because it's completely possible to have a group in which only one of the robots can see. Large portions of Unfamiliar were later re-used in Eat God, above.

Current status: I have a list of notes as long as your arm on planned changes to integrate into the text, and I'm confident I'll get around to doing so one of these years.

Gone to Hell

Literally a Doom (2016) pastiche as a Belonging Outside Belonging game, which is just as silly an idea as it sounds; grown out of an earlier 24-hour RPG called Doomguy. The central conceit is that there's only a single player character, with players taking turns assuming the role of the Slayer, while everyone else takes ownership of the various hostile factions comprising the game's conspiratorial twelve-car pileup of a plot. Lots of pontificating about the implicit power structures of tabletop RPG groups. This one probably needs a full rewrite in order to lend a bit more formal structure to the "one player character, many GMs" conceit than out-of-the-box BOB offers.

Current status: I have not looked at this game in three years, which is actually a really long time for me.

Rotate Bird

Another of my "is this a formal experiment or a real game" titles, this one revolves around constructing characters out of abstract symbols, which are interpreted during play to retroactively define what your character is actually capable of doing. Even the title seen above is an interpretive approximation; strictly speaking, the game is called 🔄🐦. Possibly the most shitposty game I've ever written, which is saying something, but based on playtest feedback it seems functional.

Current status: the only reason this is listed as lower in priority than Gone to Hell is because I genuinely don't know what to do with it. It's probably publishable, with some cleanup editing and graphic design, but it feels like there's something missing. I'm open to suggestions!

Get in the Fucking Robot

A pamphlet-size, competitive, GMless title that's at least as much a board game as it is a tabletop RPG, this one is about a bunch of dysfunctional candidate mecha pilots competing to be the first to pilot the titular giant robot. The game is played under misère conditions: while each character's IC goal is to pilot the robot, each player's OOC goal is to avoid that fate, with the player whose character actually Gets in the Fucking Robot being accounted the loser.

Current status: playtesting suggests the current framework of play doesn't actually work – like, at all – so this one needs to go all the way back to the drawing board; I don't feel like doing that any time soon, which puts it squarely at the bottom of the list.

[swans-chirping-in-the-distance]

YOU have a very interesting take on sokeefe. you don't just love every part of it- please elaborate, your tags on anti sokeefe posts are FASCINATING

THIS TOOK FOREVED IM SORRY ILYSM FOR THIS AHDJDLFKWNKDJF

I think one majorly important thing about sokeefe is that precious bond they have with each other. In fact, that's what makes me love the ship so much. It's truly stunning to see such a natural love built on years of trust and support. They clearly display so many different ways of loving, whether it be emotional, physical, mental, or verbal. The way that Shannon captured them is something I'm not sure I've seen anyone else do the same way.

Sophie ignores her feelings for Keefe for the majority of the series and writes it off due to insecurity. And Keefe knew that. Yet, instead of just telling her how she felt, he decided to let her decide how to act. To not rush her or pressure her. To let her make her own decision. He held himself back and let her be with his best friend without telling her, which many adults couldn't bring themselves to do. But he did it for HER. Because he loved her, whether he said it or not. How terrifying must it have been for Keefe to be so vulnerable as to fall for someone when that had made him hurt so much in the past? How terrifying must it have been for SOPHIE, who'd not let herself realize she fell until she was far too gone to come back from this unscathed?

The two are often very physical with each other, from the constant support of holding one another's hand to the gripping hugs late at night when their sobs are louder than their family's disappointment. Not only do they show how they feel about each other with touch, but also with general body language. The comfort of Keefe turning her head gently to look at him. The way they relax around each other, their facial expressions and their hands involuntarily grabbing the other's without a moment's notice. The display of casualty hidden within the deep depths of their relationship. They even manage to think about each other with the same sort of intensity, the determination to keep the other alive and the sheer desperation not to lose the other. They're reliant on each other's safety, not because their lives would be in danger without them, but because a huge part of their happiness would.

The two often joke around with each other, but they know when to stop. They know when it's time to get serious, to remind the other of how high they think of them and how much they care for them. How they'll always be at each other's side. Their words say "I love you" for them. And while they're in terribly traumatic situations and had such different backgrounds, they're the only ones who understand each other. They're absolute foils who were born to be enemies and fell for each other anyway. Their relationship is a beautiful one, but it's also one that's extremely fragile.

Sokeefe's relationship could go wrong in many ways. There are multiple paths towards a toxic relationship that would be really easy for their canon characters to fall into. For example, while for now they help each other stay brave and empathetic, their vulnerability towards each other makes them more prone to toxicity. They're both known for being reckless. How easy would it be to accidentally get the other to do something terrible? Would killing a random Neverseen member be self-defense? Would that really help anyone in the long run? They're traumatized kids forced to lead, like a malfunctioning toy released before it was fixed. They have no idea what they're doing if you really think about it. Who are they to advise the other?

Another issue I've noticed is one that's super minimal now but could become a huge issue. Sophie, being a relatable teen girl, likes apologies for things that hurt her, even if she knows it's technically not the other person's fault. She's not going around asking for apologies that aren't warranted, but she's accepting them. And that usually doesn't matter much, but it does with someone like KEEFE. Keefe, who blames himself for things that aren't his fault because it's all he knows. He feels so guilty for his and his family's existence that he takes it out on himself. And that could turn into a problem. Because a boy who apologizes for everything he didn't do doesn't fit well with a girl who accepts them. Sophie would never want Keefe to blame himself for things more, but she could inadvertently cause it with ease.

On top of all of that, they often struggle with looking at each other realistically and being truly reliable about the other. Keefe doesn't think Sophie's perfect; don't get me wrong. Part of the appeal of Keefe is that he sees her flaws and still loves her through them. But he also doesn't do much to help her fix said flaws. Perhaps it's out of his own insecurity in thinking he has no place to judge others because he believes he's worse, but my point stands nonetheless. And Sophie often forgives too easily, which lowers her own standards while also making sure Keefe can't grow from his mistakes because no one's acknowledging them. They seem to move too fast at times, and slowing down could really help. Get therapy and learn to bite the bad habits in the ass, in a way.

Another interesting aspect of their relationship are the parallels of their own to others. A loyal girl desperate to believe the man she loves is good, even when he keeps doing wrong? A girl who doesn't realize there's a difference between good and right until it's far too late? I think we all saw the ruedacted/ Lodestar sokeefe parallels. And if you took any koralie interaction and changed the names out? Sokeefe moment. It's just so easy for them to end tragically, but they're so desperate for it to work out. They're walking on the most delicate of ice for a chance that they can meet in the middle. They're running across a tightrope, hoping they don't fall to the ground. They're pulling at the web in hopes that they don't get stuck in its fabric, but they ALWAYS do. Sokeefe is a beautiful relationship built on trust and love, but trust and love don't always mean something is good for you. Their entire existence is truly a bittersweet delicacy only to be enjoyed by the most careful of takers.

[carmillascrusade]

Something about fun part 2 | Vanessa(SB) x F!reader

Images do not belong to me.

Summary: Vanessa finds you and apologises for the way she treat you earlier.

Word count: 1,269

A/N: very sorry that this is late. Completely forgot that I had a history exam this week so I wrote this whilst eating my tea lmao. It isn’t proofread either so I apologise for any mistakes.

Vanessa hurried down to the kitchen after checking the cameras to make sure Chica was securely locked in her room, not wanting to be responsible for Chica malfunctioning. She was determined to make you the best pepperoni pizza you had ever had the pleasure of tasting. After all, it’s only what you deserved after enduring her awful treatment.

You were making your rounds around the pizzaplex, doing anything and everything to get your mind off Vanessa and her cruel words. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was currently in the kitchens preparing you a pepperoni pizza to share as an apology for her actions.

Vanessa milled around the kitchen as she waited for the pizza to cook. Breaking into her stash of Coca-Cola secretly hidden in a vent, she pulled two cans out of their container. One for you and one for her. Buzzing with a bittersweet nervousness she ran over the speech she had prepared for you one more time. If only she hadn’t snapped at you.

The beeping of the oven pulled Vanessa out of her thoughts as she walked over to grab the pizza before it burned. Guilt and shame motivated her movements, engulfing her heart and squeezing it in such a vice-like grip she thought it would explode.

In the quiet solitude of the dimly lit kitchen, Vanessa found herself engulfed in the suffocating embrace of regret. The weight of her actions loomed over her conscience like an oppressive shadow, sorrow cast upon her every thought. What would she do if you refused to forgive her? You were the light at the end of the road. She couldn’t bear to live without you and your sweet smiles.

Regret gnawed at the very core of her being, churning into an emotional storm within. She mourned the loss of your once cherished relationship, destroyed by her insecurity. No, she wouldn’t let herself think that way- she couldn’t. She was not going to lose you.

You glanced towards the clock that stood on the desk, the monitors showing a static screen and nothing else. Heartache echoed in the silence you found yourself in, unknowing if you and Vanessa could come back from this. Every beat of your heart resonated with the melody of lost love. Does Vanessa hate you now?

As you wallowed in self-pity, Vanessa was rushing spring the pizzaplex, desperately trying to find you before the pizza got cold. She exhaled short, panicked breaths as she failed to find you. Closing her eyes, she steadied herself for a moment, racking her brain for places where you may be.

You had to be somewhere she didn’t visit too often. Just as the thought crossed her mind, she now knew where she could find you. If only she wasn’t too late. Praying to the gods above and below, she dashed off into the direction of lost and found.

Huffing outside the door, she knocked hesitantly as the light above her flicked and hummed in anticipation. Startled from your thoughts by the soft knocking, you rose to your feet and ventured over to the door. What was Vanessa doing here?

Sighing softly, you opened the door to be feasted with a teary-eyed Vanessa holding a box of pizza in her hands, body subtly shaking as she stood there. Furrowing your brows in concern, you quickly reached for her and pulled her into the office. “Vanessa? What are you doing? Are you okay?”

Vanessa laughed at your fussing, your kind heart shining through your despair. She didn’t deserve your kindness. Words seemed to fail her as she stood before you, unable to muster the courage needed to apologise to you. Did you want her here?

She opened the pizza box to reveal the pizza she had created for you. The edges of the oddly shaped pizza were slightly burned and there was just a tad too much pepperoni covering it. Your lips quirked up slightly, you didn’t need to be a pizza expert to know that Vanessa had made it herself.

“For you.” She whispered, eyes anxiously searching for face for a reaction. “I- I came to apologise. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, it was unfair and there’s no excuse for it.”

You took the pizza from her hands and placed it down on the table, appreciative of the gesture. “Vanessa, it’s okay.”

“No!” She shouted, startling you in the process. Lowering her voice in an ashamed whisper she spoke once more. “It isn’t okay. I shouldn’t have taken out my insecurities on you. You- you don't have to reciprocate my feelings and I know that. I do! It was just so awful seeing you with Roxanne and instead of communicating with you, I lashed out. I’m truly sorry and I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to forgive me.”

Vanessa was near tears and you, you were confused. Feelings? You and Roxy? Whatever was she talking about?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, ness. What feelings? And why would you be unhappy to see Roxy and I together? We were just having fun.”

Vanessa wrung her hands together, eyes flitting around the room nervously as she wracked up the courage to tell you about her feelings. Feelings for you. “I- I don’t want to be friends with you,”

“What?” You interrupted her, utterly devastated at her statement.

“No! No! That isn’t what I meant!” She grabbed you, wanting you to hear her out. “I don’t want to be your friend because I’m in love with you!”

The confession hung in the air as you absorbed her words, jaw slack and mouth open. You were not expecting this. Not expecting to have your feelings returned. Especially after what had happened earlier.

Vanessa grew more anxious as the two of you stood in silence. It wasn’t until she began to pull away that you realised she had just made a very large confession. One that needed addressing immediately.

Tugging her closer to you, your left hand wrapped around her waist, the other reaching up to toy with her ponytail. “I’m very glad that you share my feelings, Vanessa. Although, you’ll have to make it up to me for the way you treated me. You’re not entirely forgiven yet.” You smirked as she leaned towards you.

“Yes, anything.”

“How about you take me out on a date after our shift?” You asked with a slight smile, happy that despite everything, you were here with Vanessa.

“I’d love to.” She grinned back at you. Her eyes full of excitement as she grasped your chin and pulled your face towards hers. You closed the distance between the two of you and connected your lips. Time seemed to stand still as you embraced each other for the first time, both of you trying to express your feelings for one another. You let out a small laugh as you pulled away from the kiss, breathless and yearning for more.

“How about we share the lovely pizza you decided to make me?” You asked, after all, it would be a shame to make it.

“I would love to.” She repeated again.

As the two of you shared the pizza, you were hopeful for the future that would come. For you and Vanessa completed each other.

Not even fate would tear you apart now that you were together.

[nomstellations]

Unorthodox Methods

yeah hi this is a. very self indulgent lim.bus vorefic with heath.cliff as a pred. story contains a reluctant male pred and unspecified prey, quarter size vore, protective vore, and its soft & safe.

“W-why's it always gotta be me?!”

None of the other sinners would look Heath's way. While they've had to do all kinds of odd jobs for the company…nobody was willing to take on this one. Their client has been partially shrunken due to some malfunctioning technology, and needed to be protected and escorted to safety. They weren't provided with any safe means of transportation, so Faust had determined that the best course of action was to carry them…internally. With no willing volunteers, all eyes fell on Heathcliff, whose face was flush with embarrassment and frustration.

“C'mon, Heath~ Just do us this favor  ‘kay?”

“It's your fault you weren't paying enough attention to opt out, you know…”

He growled and tightened his grip on his bat. He ought to show them he wasn't going to just take this sitting down, but his gaze fell on their client. They looked nervous; this idea wasn't theirs and they looked to be just as eager as he was- which was to say, not at all. His anger softened at their anxious expression.

“Bloody hell…fine! But I don't want to hear a peep out of your mugs about it unless you want your skull cracked!”

~~~

Faust had given him some kind of tablet to eat. He wasn't really paying attention to her explanation, but apparently it would suppress his digestive acids for a while so their client would be safe. He snapped at everyone else to screw off while he…put their client away, which left the two of them alone. He scratched the back of his head, frankly unsure of how to go about this. They weren't food, he couldn't just open his mouth and chow down on them…they frankly looked terrified. He didn't want to hurt them.

“Hey, easy there…” His tone was softer now, gentle in contrast to his rough voice he had used just moments earlier. “I'm no expert, but…I'll make sure not to hurt you, alright?” Heath only moved to pick them up when they gave him a hesitant nod. They were small, but not tiny to where he could crush them in his hand. They were closer to the size of a stuffed animal, but that presented the dilemma of how he’d go about swallowing them. He mulled it over for a few minutes, lifting them over his head to see if maybe feet-first was feasible. It made them squirm anxiously, so maybe not… “Alright, I’m gonna…try this, okay? Try not to wiggle too much, I don’t wanna…you know.”

With that he opened his mouth, revealing some surprisingly sharp teeth. He hesitated for a moment when he felt them flinch, but it was probably better for the both of them that he got this over with quickly. Carefully he started to nudge them inside, his fangs gently grazing their head as they went. He could feel them go stiff- they weren’t hurt, were they? He paused, but tasted no blood on his tongue…they’re probably just nervous. A thought flickered through his mind for a second, that they tasted surprisingly good and savory…

No, no, he is NOT enjoying this.

As if to fend off the passing thought he focused on swallowing, which pulled his little client’s head into his throat. This was easily the biggest mouthful Heath’s ever had; it felt a bit uncomfortable to him but he could only imagine what his client must be feeling now. Despite the discomfort, he was very slow and methodical with swallowing them whole. Each gulp was deep and slow after a brief pause, making sure they were still unharmed until there was finally nothing left in his mouth to swallow down. He breathed out a sigh of relief as the hardest part was finally over, adjusting his collar a bit as his client slid their way downwards. The sensation of their descent was���odd, but not terribly unpleasant.

After what felt like forever, they finally spilled out into Heath’s stomach. This was also the most he’s ever eaten in one sitting, and he could physically see his stomach expanding to accommodate its new guest. It stirred up a quiet belch from him, causing his client to start shifting and squirming around in a panic.

“Shh, hey hey….you’re alright.” He pats at his stomach in an effort to calm them down. “That egghead of ours made sure it’s safe in there for you. Take it easy, I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to you.”

He figured the noise from his stomach probably wasn’t helping. Even though it couldn’t digest anything, it was probably trying anyway…he could feel their movements slowly settle down while his stomach got to work. Good, they’re fine and they’re settled…Heath sighed, the whole ordeal kind of took it out of him. He was going to give everyone an earful when this was all over, make no mistake- but standing here with a full stomach kind of felt…good. It was weird! But it felt good. Surely the others won’t mind if he waits here a minute, right? Then it's right to work.

[emeraldspiral]

So, I've seen fics where Zim's PAK malfunctions and allows him to experience suppressed emotions, or think more clearly and become self-aware/realize his mission is fake, or get horny. But going along with that idea I had awhile ago that Irken PAKs are used to medicate them for things like depression or ADHD, what if a malfunction caused Zim to have an overdose or withdrawl? And maybe he doesn't realize that's what's happening because he doesn't know what he has or what medications he's being fed. He's never actually been to a doctor to get diagnosed and prescribed medication. The PAK just does a bioscan, determines what he needs, and feeds it to him automatically, and he never looked into it because he trusts the technology implicitly and doesn't want to know what conditions he might have.

Maybe the only reason he figures it out is because the effects of the withdrawl/OD happen at Skool. One of his classmates takes him to the nurse who calls his "parents" to come pick him up. Word spreads about Zim being sick, it gets back to Dib, and then Dib figures out it wasn't another one his allergies because he recognizes the symptoms because he takes the same medication for the same condition as Zim and the same thing happened to him once.

[asimplearchivist]

𝓡𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓵

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐗𝐗𝐕

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ khonshu was unfamiliar with the concept of self-care, but it would seem that he's unexpectedly well-versed in others. pairing(s) ☽ khonshu/reader | promises kept!verse word count ☾ 2.9k a/n ☽ ⤏ my fourth entry for the moon knight bingo hosted by @juneknight and @spacecowboyhotch over at @moonknight-events. I will eventually crosspost this to the main fic for promises kept on ao3 when it will best fit the chronological progression of the chapters. ⤏ this took a turn I didn't anticipate. khonshu kind of got away from me, tbh. have a flirty old bird I guess? (@angel-of-the-moons I feel like you might enjoy this one.🤭) ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS ENTRY ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT ENTRY ☽

What are you doing?

The rumbled words emerged from the shadows hemmed up in the corners of the bathroom more like a disinterested observation than a question.

“Would you care to take a guess?” you offered, opening your eyes and glancing towards the dimly lit silhouette having knelt in front of the door.

The warm, humid room was cramped and ill-suited for more than one person to occupy it at one time, but that fact didn’t seem to have stopped Khonshu from materializing at your side—likely in pursuit of tracking down your exact location since you weren’t in the living room or your bedroom like you usually were at this hour. It was a slow night in London, for once—the police channels had been quiet all evening, so you hadn’t felt the need to be prepared for the moon god’s urgent beck and call. Ru was winding down from school and homework with Lizzie watching her favorite baking show, and your portable speaker played music at the necessary volume to disguise your murmured responses to the lunar deity’s incredulity.

Bathing. In the dark. He tilted his skull. The electricity is not malfunctioning.

“It’s meant to be relaxing.” You raised a hand out of the steaming water to indicate the row of flickering candles lining the broad posterior lip of the tub flush against the wall. “And I can see perfectly well.”

He leaned forward, hands planted on his thighs not unlike a child, and you noticed that his staff was propped against the door frame. You are…self-soothing?

He must have picked up that term recently, as you’d definitely never heard him use it before. “Sort of. More like self-care. Liz offered to keep Ru entertained so I could get a breather until supper’s ready.”

Hmm. Khonshu sank back into his haunches. So you simmer yourself…and to what end?

You chuckled, pulling your legs up and folding your arms across the tops of your knees—modesty was a foreign concept to the ancient being, having associated with a culture that dwelled in the desert and thus rarely utilized complete coverings save to block the harshest of sunlight—and while you’d mostly grown accustomed to his penchant for invading your privacy at inopportune times, you didn’t particularly want to explain the entire premise to him with your chest on full display. “Hot water benefits the human body in many ways—relaxed muscles, improved moods, and the like—not to mention the positive effects of aromatherapy and inhalation of steam.”

Is that why you’re steeping a tea bag?

“It was a bathbomb wrapped in cloth with flowers and stuff in it—that’s why the water’s purple. It’s scented with lavender and chamomile. Smell it?”

How could I not? It has fumigated the entire room.

You shrugged. “At least it’s nice—better than BO, anyway.”

His shoulders scrunched in the only approximation of a frown you’d been able to determine. I see little point in any of this frivolity.

“Have you ever had a spa day, Khonshu?”

The inexpressive dimensions of his skull could not morph to adapt to his dripping dubiety, but it didn’t have to—his once uncanny stillness spoke enough to it.

“It’s nice,” you continued, ignoring his skeptical grunt. “With all those priests and priestesses fawning over you in your temples, I figured you’d have been pampered a time or two over the course of several thousand years.”

We were only allowed to interact directly with our avatars—we oftentimes utilized them as oracles, or spoke to the priesthood through statues, visions, dreams, or signs. Khonshu pushed his shoulders back. They would tend to our sculptures and reliefs as if they were our bodies, make offerings to them, enact rituals in our names, but…nothing quite like this.

“That’s a shame. I think a deep-tissue massage would do you a lot of good.” You reached for the exfoliator and the bar of soap and lathered up the perforated weave in order to scrub yourself so you’d at least look semi-productive. “Maybe some moisturization wouldn’t hurt…last time I saw your elbows, they looked crusty as hell.”

At first you thought you might actually have rendered him speechless, but you should have known better—another cursory peek in his direction revealed that he was merely observing.

I do recall a similar practice, he responded, tapering his beak down towards you, although it was generally utilized in preserving the khat of the mortals that journeyed west.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course. It wouldn’t offer you much of a vast improvement, then, huh? There’s not a whole lot I could do for a mummified bird.”

Khonshu scoffed, but said no more.

You began to wash your body in earnest, starting with your face, then moved down your neck, shoulders, arms, torso, pelvis, legs, and feet. You tried to reach around to tend to your back in the same way, but you winced as the action tugged at sore muscles beneath your shoulder blade—a scuffle with a carjacker the night before had resulted in him collapsed unconscious in the street, and you hadn’t trusted the police not to run him over in their haste to capture him (as well as a glimpse of you in their ever-persistent effort in pinning down the identity of their local do-gooder vigilante), so you’d had to drag him onto the sidewalk with…mixed results. The man had been big enough that he could have carried the car away with him, if the whim had so struck him, instead of hot-wiring it.

Allow me.

You startled as Khonshu’s hand curled over your arm to grasp the porous swatch of sudsy material. You watched, enraptured, as the gauze binding his flesh receded like sand slipping through an hourglass to reveal the pockmarked, ashen skin underneath—but you had only a glimpse before he withdrew with the stretched loofa.

Give me your back.

You twisted adjacent to the length of the tub and leaned forward obediently, deigning not to comment upon it. You supposed that wet wrappings wouldn’t be a pleasant sensation for anybody.

Khonshu imitated your earlier actions, although he was unexpectedly gentler. He dragged the loofa in rhythmic circles from the nape of your neck steadily down, from side to side, to the small of your back—then, to your continued surprise, he placed the fabric on your thigh before cupping his hands in the water and pouring it over your skin to wash away the suds. He then wiped away the rest, the roughened texture of his fingers softened by the soap and water, the pliability of your skin, although you noticed this touch lingered far longer.

You said nothing as he began to explore the typography of your spine and ribcage, seemingly subconsciously. To be such a hardass about almost everything, as well as an unforgiving sparring partner, you had almost forgotten how careful he could be. A foolish notion, really, as you were fully aware of how he treated Ru like porcelain on the verge of shattering—he always had. The methodicality of it lulled you into a trance-like state, your eyelids drooping as you leaned into both of his hands, now working in tandem to press and stroke the tension out of your muscles.

…When was the last time someone had touched you like this? You couldn’t recall. Your ex-husband hadn’t usually utilized this intimate a method of aftercare, even while you’d been trying for a baby. You’d been too busy with Ru and chores during the day to schedule an appointment, although you suspected that a deep-tissue would do you a world of good—Khonshu’s armor always healed your wounds if you wore it long enough, but it still often left you stiff if you’d hyperextended yourself during combat.

Khonshu dug the heel of his palm into that one incredibly tender catch under your shoulder blade. You sucked in a breath and winced, your entire back going rigid against the pain that lanced up into your neck. His displeased grunt was much closer to your ear than you’d anticipated, and you opened your eyes to glance up at him out of your periphery to see that he’d hunched over you.

You did not tell me that you were still in pain, he finally rumbled sternly. Why did you release the armor before you were healed?

“I am healed,” you told him, “just a little sore. It’s normal. I guess it doesn’t stitch everything back together exactly where it was before.”

He grumbled in refutation, but tapped his fingertips against the arch of your spine. Relax. It will only grow worse if you are tense.

“It’s not exactly—comfortable!” you squeaked, jerked forward to avoid the insistent digging of his fingers.

Of all the methods he could have used to steady you, reaching up and curling the length of his hand around the column of your throat was decidedly not what you would ever have expected. Your pulse leapt against the perfectly measured, unoppressive pressure he applied, and—in spite of the copious amount of heat flooding your face—you had to admit that it worked to keep you as still as a statue.

An inexplicable warmth—tingly like the slow creep of magic his armor provided to alleviate your wounds, but far more concentrated (and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have remarked that it almost felt like lidocaine)—wreathed his free hand as he began to knead the tightness out of the problem spot. You groaned softly as he did so, the vibration of the sound resonating through his hand and tickling your throat in turn, squeezing your eyes shut as you twitched on reflex to avoid the pain. Even with his magic’s numbing ability, the injury must have been worse than you’d initially anticipated because it swept right around the curve of your ribs and under—

“Hey!” you gasped, lurching away from those long, beguiling fingers as he followed the muscle to your torso and almost brushed the underside of your breast. This caused the blade of his palm to dig into your jugular, pitching your voice into a broken, if muffled, squeal. “Whoa, watch it—that’s off-limits!”

You’ve a rib out of place, he deadpanned.

“I could have my sacrum detached from my pelvic girdle, but that doesn’t mean I’d let you fondle my ass to fix it, either,” you hissed, trying to pull away, in vain.

Why must you be so stubborn? he groused, pressing his palm into your side directly over the rib in question. His soothing power sank into your body, and you had a hard time resisting the relief it brought. I had no intention of groping you.

You’d thought your face couldn’t grow any hotter, but you were promptly proven wrong. You told yourself that it was strictly the proximity of another person that was causing your uncontrollable reaction, that it had been years since the last time you’d been in such a compromising and vulnerable situation, not that it was Khonshu specifically. (You had always been shit at lying, even to yourself, admittedly.) “I, uh…sorry. Just…wasn’t expecting that.”

I did not mean to startle you. The curve of his beak descended over the slope of your opposite shoulder and the golden, emblematic crescent moon bound over his chest brushed against your back. …Just know that if I ever touched you in such a manner, there is no question that you would be anticipating it, Srit mwt.

You mouthed a curse and dropped your head as much as you could manage with him still holding you in place in hopes to hide your utter mortification. He should not have been having this effect on you. Khonshu was many things, but sexual was not a word you had mentally associated with him at any point.

You remembered, idly, that your research into his mythos had revealed that he was regarded as a god of fertility.

“Uh-huh,” you responded lamely, swallowing and surrendering to him just so that it would be over sooner. You’d planned on soaking for a while after washing up to enjoy the hot water, but now all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and scream into your pillow until your heart stopped drumming itself into a tattoo against the inside of your thoracic cavity.

Then the god of the moon had the the nerve—the fucking gall—to chuckle; a low, raspy noise that carried into your ribcage like a subwoofer ricocheted sound through a vehicle. You needn’t worry. I do not extend such invitations lightly…and I am not particularly inclined to commence anything that could not be completed.

Fuck. Honestly.

You were familiar with the banter the pair of you had shared over the years of serving as his avatar, but you’d never known him to…was he flirting with you, or were you imagining things? Surely not. He despised humans, humanity in general, thought himself above mere mortals to the point that he only associated with whomever he’d selected to be his Fist at any given time (as far as you were aware, anyway).

This was new. It was foreign and unexpected and completely out of character for him. Just when you’d thought you had pinned down his personality, he’d gone and revealed another aspect of himself—like a phase of the celestial body he represented. It didn’t make you uncomfortable, per se (quite the opposite, in fact, if you were to be totally honest with yourself; you’d made somewhat suggestive remarks to him in passing before, mostly for humor’s sake, but he’d never before responded in kind), but it was disarming you in a way for which you never could have prepared yourself.

He had seen you naked before—numerous times, in fact, much to your chagrin, since he couldn’t be bothered to at least knock on something before he appeared out of thin air—but he’d never acted like he’d even noticed your body, nor had he ever cared about the modern concept of modesty. You’d learned to live with it, had grown accustomed to him appearing at the most inopportune of moments. You’d just assumed that he might not even feel any attraction whatsoever, or at least not towards you.

Was that assumption incorrect? Had you misread his body language all this time? Was he just worryingly skilled at hiding any reactions he could have had? You hadn’t a clue—you didn’t know what to think, especially since you swore you could feel each individual crease on his cool, coarse palms against your heated flesh. He was a dominant entity, controlling out of necessity given the nature of his creed, but you’d never thought that it could carry over into a context quite like this.

…Of course, you’d never thought he’d offer to help you bathe, either, but here you were: naked, wet, and as vulnerable as one could be, trying very hard to hide exactly what he was doing to you simply by touching you comparatively chastely in sharp contrast to what the tone of his voice might have indicated.

You cleared your throat, realizing that you’d been quite a little too long. You could almost hear his smug grin—if he were even capable of displaying it in his primary, decayed shape. “...Thanks. For the…for the help. I feel a lot better now.”

Impatient, as always, he tutted. Just a moment.

“No, really, I’m good, you’ve worked your ma—gic!”

The sharp, high noise that escaped you as his hand compressed your rib and set it back in place with a dull click was worse than you could’ve imagined. Khonshu, mercifully, withdrew as quickly as he’d approached, leaving you reeling and dazed. You sucked in a breath, gritting your teeth against the urge to cringe, and probed your side experimentally.

There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it, hmm?

“If you weren’t a literal deity that could smite me from this plane of existence, I would offer you some very choice words on the quality of your bedside manner.”

That has never restricted you before. Khonshu’s spindly form creaked as he stood and straightened to his full height (or as close to it as was possible, given the bathroom’s low ceiling), leaving you shivering in the humid air he stirred in his wake. Although I doubt you will complain that I finished the job that you failed to allow the armor to finish.

“Well,” you started indignantly, “I guess I can count on you to finish everything I don’t, then, huh?”

A beat of silence passed, and that was arguably worse than anything he could’ve said in reply.

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned. “Forget I said that.”

He had the audacity to laugh at you. Should you ever require assistance, he crooned, all you need do is to call my name. I will hear you at any time or place.

You reached a hand back to deliver him a solitary finger, refraining from the urge to crawl into the drain and drown yourself. “I think I’ve had about enough of you tonight, thanks.”

If that’s all you can take, then I worry that you couldn’t—

“Shut,” you ground out, “the fuck up.”

Khonshu laughed as he slipped back into whatever the hell sort of fifth dimension he lived in when he wasn’t plaguing you with his insufferability.

[mylittleredgirl]

much more context with an episode list below the poll!

more info below by episode (forgive me in advance if i forgot your favorite doctor-evolution episode) (also forgive me for all the mistakes i will immediately see once i hit post but will be unable to fix because we can't edit poll posts):

season one: "i wasn't programmed for any of this!"

"eye of the needle": after kes starts advocating for him, janeway offers him the power to turn himself off, and he asks for a name.

"heroes and demons": he leaves sickbay for the first time and has his first non-medical mission. he's emotionally affected by freya's death at the end.

season two: "before you, i was just a projection of photons held together by forcefields [...] just a profession, not a life."

"projections": he hallucinates an existential crisis about whether he's a human or a hologram.

"twisted": the doctor spends time recreationally with the crew on the holodeck for the first time (though it's not clear if he enjoys it).

"lifesigns": he falls in love with vidiian doctor danara pel. at first he says his program is malfunctioning, but later believes his programming is adapting instead. he also records his first personal log.

season three: "i'm footloose and fancy-free."

"the swarm": his program starts to degrade because he has been expanding it for hobbies like opera and friendships with the crew. he says his program should be rebooted so he can serve his "primary responsibility," but kes and the others convince him that his memories are important to keep. (factoid: we learn his maximum runtime was supposed to be 1500 hours.)

"future's end": mobile emitter time!!! and his first time off the ship.

"darkling": he starts editing his own program (and it doesn't go well).

"real life": he creates a holo-family for himself.

according to the stardate mentioned in "latent image" (see season five), the flashback part of that episode happens at the very end of season three.

season four: "i believe i've earned the respect of the crew as an equal."

"revulsion": we meet our first delta quadrant hologram (and it doesn't go well). this is the first time we hear about holograms being subjugated by "organics."

"message in a bottle": the doctor meets the EMH-2 and reveals that at some point he programmed himself a dick and had sex.

"living witness": we learn that the doctor has a backup module who seems to have the same emotions and self-awareness as the doctor himself (which i take to mean that whatever sentience is now in his program can be duplicated by copying).

season five: "we gave him a soul. do we have any right to take it away now?"

"latent image": we learn the doctor had a holo-breakdown (off-screen in late season 3) after his ethical subroutines could not reconcile his decision to save harry's life over another patient's. at the time, they determined that erasing some of his memories was the only way to repair him. at the end of the episode, after the doctor and seven both argue for his individual rights, janeway decides to let him work through his guilt rather than deleting his memories again. assuming this ultimately works after the episode ends, it means that he was able to overcome a critical programming conflict through introspection and social support instead of altering his programming.

season six: "haven't I earned the right to self-determination?"

"tinker, tenor, doctor, spy": the doctor formally complains that his sentience is not being acknowledged and argues that he should be allowed to grow his abilities beyond his role as doctor. he also wants his potential to be evaluated based on his holographic nature rather than humanoid limits ("my program can be expanded indefinitely. i don't have limits!").

"blink of an eye": he lives for three years on the time dilation planet and even has a son ("it's a long story").

"virtuoso": he tries to leave the ship to become an opera star, choosing his passion (and his ego) over his originally programmed purpose.

side note: "fair haven" and "spirit folk" are both in season six, and that's the first time that anyone (including the doctor) seems to consider the concept that regular holodeck characters might also have some kind of feelings, personhood, or right to continued existence (unlike in season three, when in "alter ego" it's both a joke and a problem that harry falls in love with a hologram, or in "real life" when the doctor is fine with b'elanna reprogramming his family without consulting them).

season seven: "the doctor exhibits many of the traits we associate with a person [...] but are these traits real, or is the doctor merely programmed to simulate them?"

"critical care": the doctor violates the hippocratic oath in his programming by harming a patient to save others, and it does not trigger the ethical subroutine breakdown he experienced in season 5.

"body and soul": delta quadrant holograms are in revolt. the doctor experiences humanoid pleasures and enjoys them.

"flesh and blood": he betrays voyager to save the hirogen-programmed holograms and (temporarily) leaves the ship to join them, "because i'm one of you."

"author, author": a federation arbiter decides that he's not legally a person, but is "no ordinary hologram" and has some limited rights.

[wanderingaldecaldo]

I've been posting Ros and Val without any context or backstory because my brain has been going brrrrrrrr too much to write anything proper besides drabbles, and a couple of unrelated oneshots. I'm still figuring out their story but I've discovered some of the major beats and wanted to get it down for my future self, as well as anyone who's following along at home.

Their story follows PL fairly closely with a few places where I took some creative license. Val and Ros hook up at the safe house, and it takes Reed a little longer to get everything organized, giving them a few days together in Dogtown before Ros is spirited back to D.C.

Lemme just wipe off your cheek real quick...

Val needs family. She doesn't know it, but that's why she gravitated to Jackie and Lupe. It's why she calls Panam for help in her canon. Rosalind represents family in a different way. She's the mother who knows what's best, who cares about "her" people, and Val doesn't realize how much she needs that attachment. Several times during the rescue, Ros displays affection and concern for her—when the building collapses before the Chimera fight, during the Relic malfunction—and combined with the mission to keep her safe, it triggers something deep inside V, a loyalty that she doesn't understand.

Rosalind, on the other hand, just lost a lot of crucial advisors. While we don't know who was on board aside from So Mi, we can guess that there were high ranking staffers, such as communications, security, and campaign, plus her own personal assistant and Secret Service agent. She has no one. She is vulnerable with V, admitting that she doesn't know what to do, that she has no one; and V's response is to remind her that she's there, and she's determined to get her out of the situation. Loyalty is something Ros values highly, and here is this merc tasked with saving her, but who sees the situation as more than just another gig; who has become personally invested in protecting her. It's intoxicating to have someone who's unflinchingly loyal to you, and who has seen the real you.

Once they reach the safe house, things escalate because of the mix of all those emotions, plus all the adrenaline and endorphins from the escape. It becomes more than just a hookup, but because of their situations (Ros's, let's be real), they both know it's an untenable relationship. Their time is bittersweet because of that knowledge.

Just squint a little and the Dogtown apartment isn't that bad!

Continued after the cut...

Later after the events of PL, they stay in touch, and there is affection between them still. Ros reaches out by text for fashion advice on the magazine shoot. They both agree that V isn't the right person for the job, but Ros knows she'll at least be honest. Later the acting campaign manager thinks having Ros take photos with the merc who saved her life in Dogtown would be good ad material, so Ros recruits V to the photo shoot.

Note: add at least one eagle for the "real" patriots

V uses the photo shoot to her advantage and successfully lobbies for the dinner date Rosalind promised. They have it that evening at Embers, as it's easy to secure for VIPs. Ros wants to know what V expects, because surely she can't think there is hope for a real relationship; but V wants whatever she can have. At this point, she knows she's crazy about Rosalind, while Ros is in denial herself over how much she cares about V.

“Where do you think this will go, V?” Rosalind's voice is soft and melodic. She doesn’t know, doesn’t care. She needs something, will take anything. “Hopin’ the first stop is my bedroom,” V says and gives her cockiest grin, but it quickly fades. “After that? Kinda up to you, yeah?”

They spend the night together and Ros decides to give it a try. They officially start seeing each other, but in secret and only when Ros has reason to visit NC. The new mayor provides a good excuse, so Ros visits under cover of extending diplomatic ties, and providing an opportunity for date night with her merc.

It's good to have powerful friends, like the new mayor of Night City.

After a few months of this, they slip up and the media catch wind that the President is spending time with the merc who saved her life in Dogtown. The campaign manager wants to use the media frenzy by spinning it as Rosalind recruiting V as her personal bodyguard, while still encouraging theories about their secret romantic relationship so the screamsheets will go crazy over it.

Eventually people are gonna notice when AF1 keeps showing up in NC airspace.

At that point V is ready to upend her life for Ros. She agrees to the plan and moves to D.C. The media eats it all up, and suddenly the only thing the NUS cares about is whether the President and her merc are fucking (they are). Eventually they transition to openly dating, and the President's approval rating shoots up by having a partner who humanizes her and makes her more likeable.

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 1

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Next chapter

Coughing and spluttering, she now knelt in the sand, gulping in the blessed fresh air. By some miracle she was mostly unharmed, other than a bit singed and achy. But as her eyes finally focused on the area around her, she felt her heart sink as it became clear that no one else had had the same fortune as her. 

Bodies scattered the beach - some mind flayer abductees, others fishermen unlucky enough to be caught in the crash. Instinctively she ran to the closest to try to help them, but they were long beyond saving. A horrified whimper escaped her lips as she covered her mouth in shock - she’d never seen anything like this. Though maybe they were all the lucky ones… she knew what fate awaited her from this parasite if she didn’t find a way to be rid of it. For now she decided not to think about it; there were much more immediate threats to worry about.

She pushed on, hoping to find any survivors, or maybe signs of a settlement. The stink of smoke clung to her singed wizard robes, the once vibrant magenta fabric now dulled by dust and smog. The two plaits she always wore her long auburn hair in were frayed and starting to unravel, and with every step she felt like she herself was starting to unravel too. The pain, the fear… even as the wreckage of the Nautiloid disappeared into the distance behind her til only the smoke billowing into the sky could be seen, she still felt the ever-present tingle of what it left inside her. 

Deep in the forest she started to fear what she might come across. She wouldn’t last long out here on her own - she knew a few basic self-defence spells, but nothing particularly powerful, and the only time she’d ever had to use them in earnest she barely escaped with her life. She feared her odds of survival were low if she didn’t find a friendly face soon, but hadn’t expected her salvation to come in the form of a malfunctioning portal. Curious and rather surprised to see such magic here, she walked up to the sparking purple light, keeping her distance at first. She knew better than to mess with unstable magic, but like any good wizard, she never had been good at heeding such warnings. Slowly, carefully, she reached out to it, ready to jump back should it prove dangerous… Again the portal surprised her, this time with the appearance of a hand. 

“Hello?” A voice called out. “A hand? Anyone?” “Gods!” she gasped, stumbling back slightly, before quickly moving close again. “What are you doing in there? Are you ok??” “I will be if you can help me out of here!” Came the reply. “Oh yes, of course!” She called back, feeling a bit stupid for having asked him questions rather than just pulling him out in the first place. She grabbed his hand and began to pull, though whatever held him in there was clearly determined not to let him go. “Arg! Gonna need more than that!” he called through again, sounding a little bit pained after having his arm pulled on so hard. “Ok, um, just wait a moment!” 

She grabbed his hand once more and pulled. Again the portal seemed to resist, but this time she could feel it relenting, and finally with one last burst of strength she pulled him through and the two of them crashed to the ground. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting of him, but she hadn’t been expecting him to be quite so hot. 

They both stood up and she glanced over as he brushed himself down and swept his long hair back. “Hello! I’m Gale of Waterdeep,” he said, shaking her hand. “Apologies, I’m usually better at this.” “I’m… Saffron,” she said, finding herself momentarily a bit speechless. “Are you ok? How did you get stuck in there?” “Ah, now that’s a long story,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Though, it’s a story I think you know the beginning of. You were on the Nautiloid as well, weren’t you?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Yes! Were you on it too? Taken from Baldur’s Gate?” “Not Baldur’s Gate, but yes, I was taken. Seems that ship jumped around quite a bit before finding its final resting place here. I was in one of the pods over from you, which I assume means you also found yourself on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region?” he asked, gesturing to his eye. She couldn’t help but let out a slightly exasperated chuckle at his description of the ordeal. “That is… one way of describing it, yes. Another way might be… doomed…” she murmured with a defeated sigh.

“You know what awaits us then if we don’t deal with them,” he said, sounding surprisingly unworried about the whole situation, which gave her hope. “You know how to deal with them?” she asked, but her hopes were dashed once more when he shook his head. “I was going to ask you the same question. It seems we’re in need of a healer, and soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for a healer together?” The smile that spread across her face surely would tell him all he needed to know about what her answer would be. “Yes! Ahem, I mean… sure,” she said, not wanting to sound too eager. Luckily, despite her complete inability to cover up how happy she was not to be facing this alone anymore, he only chuckled. “Most excellent! A parasite shared is a parasite halved… or something to that effect,” he said, second guessing his own joke as he was halfway through saying it. It did exactly its job though, and she found herself genuinely laughing for the first time since this whole ordeal had started. 

“Oh, but before you think you are about to embark on this journey with most ill-mannered a man: thank you, for pulling me out of that hole. It was an act of foresighted kindness I assure you, for I have the feeling ample opportunities will present themselves for me to return the favour.” 

She smiled as he spoke, happy that not only was she not in this on her own, but she was with someone who was so polite. 

“Well aren’t you a gentleman,” she said playfully. 

“I do try to be,” he replied with the slightest bow. “Now, do you know which way to the nearest settlement?” he asked, looking both ways down the path. “No… but the wreckage of the Nautiloid is back that way, so I would suggest we go the other direction,” she said, nodding down the path in the direction she’d been heading in. “Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, and soon the two of them were off. “Oh! You never told me,” she said, looking over at him as he looked back at her. “How did you get stuck in that portal?” 

“Ah, yes! Well, I don’t know what happened exactly, but the ship broke into pieces and I suddenly found myself in freefall. As I was plummeting to certain death I spied a glimmer quite near where I estimated my body to impact with less-than-savoury propulsion. Recognising this glimmer to be magical in nature, I reached out to it with a Weaving of words and found myself on the other side, as it were,” he explained, prompting a slight gasp of surprise from Saffron. 

“You managed to cast a spell like that while falling??” she asked. She was pretty sure even if she was safe at home at a desk with a pile of relevant books in front of her she wouldn’t be able to come up with such a spell on the spot. “Yes I did,” he said with a grin, looking a little bit smug about it. There was a pause. “...Why didn’t you just… cast feather fall?” She asked eventually. There was another pause. 

“Well… in moments like that we don’t always make the best decisions,” he said quickly, the smugness gone so immediately she couldn’t help but chuckle. He looked at her for a moment. “Is that how you survived the fall, then?”

“No. I was still stuck in the pod as the ship fell, then I woke up on the ground by the wreckage. I’m still not sure how I survived…” 

“Well, far be it from us to question miracles,” he said with a small shrug. “Am I right in thinking you’re a wizard too then, Saffron?” “Yes, you are,” she answered with a nod. “Would you consider yourself well-read?” She paused for a moment, contemplating both her answer and what his question might be about.

“I’ve… read a fair amount. Why do you ask?” “Hmm, tell me, how much do you know about Netherese magic?” “Only the basics,” she said with a small shrug. “Why?” “I have a matter I need to discuss with a master wizard. Do let me know if you come across one.” “A matter relating to Netherese magic?” she asked, raising an eyebrow slightly. 

“Yes. I… have something I’m working on back home. I’ve been seeking experts in the subject to help, but so far have found no one.” 

“What is it you’re working on?” 

“Oh, it’s not that interesting really. Not if you’re not already interested in the Netherese, anyway. What about you, though? I imagine you have some projects you’re working on.” A less naive person might have realised he was deflecting to change the subject off of himself, but she was not one of those people. 

“I do! Though they’ve been going pretty slow… I keep getting distracted with buying new books instead of working,” she admitted, to which Gale laughed heartily. 

“Ahh, I know that feeling all too well,” he said warmly. “What’re your projects?” “Well… my work revolves around druidic magic. I’ve been trying to learn to use magic as they do. Ultimately I want to learn to wild shape.” Gale’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

“You wish to master primal magic? Ambitious.” “Yeah… that’s what everyone says,” she murmured with a sigh. 

“It’s not going well, then?” 

Her silence told him all he needed to know. 

“Well, keep at it,” he encouraged her. “No great breakthrough ever came easily. I’d be curious to read your work, if you’d permit me to. Druidic magic is one of the few forms of magic I know little about.” 

“If we ever get to Baldur’s Gate you’re welcome to,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. Not many took an interest in her work like that. 

“Looking forward to it already,” he said genuinely. There was a warmth in his tone that filled her with joy. After a few moments, she spoke again. “You said, ‘one of the few forms of magic you know little about’. You’re pretty well-read yourself, then?” “Oh yes! I’ve been a natural at controlling the Weave since I was a child, and have spent my life studying magic. Back in Waterdeep I was the archmage for a while.” “Archmage…?? Gods…” she whispered, realising the status of who she was talking to. She went very quiet, suddenly afraid of embarrassing herself, which he seemed to notice. 

“Well, don’t place too much importance on that. I still got myself stuck in that portal,” he said with a laugh, managing to bring a smile to her lips too. “And your magic got me out. So don’t underestimate yourself.” She looked down slightly as she smiled to herself. “So, who are you other than archmage? What are you into other than magic?” She asked after a moment. “Hmm, let’s see… I have a library, a cat, and a fondness for a good glass of wine. And if the mood takes me, I’m known to try my hand at poetry.” “You have a cat??” she gasped, quickly focusing in on the most important part of what he said. 

“Heh, I do indeed. Her name is Tara,” he said fondly. “Will she be ok if you’re stuck out here? Is there someone else to feed her?” she asked in concern, though maybe there was another subconscious motivation for asking if there was anyone else in Gale’s life that might be able to feed his cat.

“Oh not to worry, she’s more than capable of looking after herself,” he assured her. “What about you? Any pets back home?” 

She found it a bit curious that he would have a cat so easily able to look after itself, but decided not to question it. “No… just an awful lot of plants, which definitely won’t survive without me there to water them,” she said with a sad sigh of realisation. “Ah… a pity,” he sympathised. “Mmm…” she murmured, her thoughts moving onto how they’d get back to the city. “How far do you think we are from Baldur’s Gate?” “I don’t know… I wondered the same about Waterdeep. I hope we can find a settlement soon and find out where we are. I also don’t fancy being stuck out here at night…” he pondered, looking up to the sky. It was early evening by now, and while Saffron felt much safer with him than she did on her own, the two of them were still in a lot of danger out here. “Me too…” she said softly, looking down the path as it led deeper into the forest. 

The walk was long, but with Gale the time had flown by. They’d spent the whole time talking, and she was amazed at how much he’d made her laugh despite the direness of their situation. She was very glad for his company, even if he could be a bit full of himself from time to time. She was especially glad for his company when they came upon a caravan plundered by goblins. The scene had left her paralysed at first to see such brutality, but he’d had the sense to look for supplies. She chose not to think too hard about what they were doing as they looted the dead bodies, though he saw her hesitation nonetheless. The dead have no use for these supplies anymore, he’d reasoned, better they aid us than we join the dead. She supposed he was right and went along with it. 

With backpacks now full with enough materials for a basic campsite the two decided it was time to stop for the day and find somewhere to set up camp. Gale suggested they find a spot down by the river - it would provide them with fresh water and a more defensible position should they come under attack. It was while wandering along the riverbank looking for a good spot that they came across another camp. “Careful, we don’t know if they’re friendly,” Gale advised, taking the lead as the two of them cautiously approached the small circle of tents. 

“Not another step.”

They froze and looked over to see the source of the voice. An elf, pale, white hair, almost invisible in the shadows of the trees, aiming an arrow towards them. “Wouldn’t want to get blood on those fancy robes of yours,” he playfully threatened, a small smile curling on his lips.“We mean no harm,” Gale said quickly, raising his hands. Saffron followed suit. “We’re just travellers, looking for somewhere to camp.” Hurried footsteps came from the tents and they looked over to see two others emerge - a woman, half-elf with long dark hair, and a second woman that Saffron almost didn’t recognise at first as a Githyanki. She walked forward towards them, an angry look on her face. “Who are these- argg!!” Pain ripped through Saffron’s skull. Suddenly visions flashed in front of her eyes - a dragon, a silver sword, a wolf, a dark mirror, an alleyway, her own face as seen from the other end of a bow… She gasped as she opened her eyes again and saw the others were also all clutching at their heads, wincing from pain. “Kaincha…” the Githyanki groaned before looking at them. “You both have parasites too?” “Indeed. You were all taken by the Nautiloid as well?” Gale asked. The three of them nodded. “Don’t suppose any of you have any ideas how to deal with these parasites?” “We must be purified,” the Gith said confidently. “We are seeking a creche. I believe there is one near here. Two of the horned ones said one of their kind had seen a Githyanki, we must find and question him. They are hidden somewhere nearby, though we have yet to find their settlement.” “Horned ones?” Gale questioned. “Teethlings.” “Tieflings,” the half-elf corrected with a roll of her eyes. “Fine, tieflings,” the Gith mumbled, clearly not happy about being corrected by her. “We will set out to find them tomorrow.” “Perhaps we could join you?” Gale offered. “The more pairs of eyes searching, the better.” The others looked at each other for a moment, considering. “I don’t see why not,” the half-elf decided, stepping forward. “I’m Shadowheart.” “Gale of Waterdeep,” he said as he shook her hand. “Saffron.” “Lae’zel.” “Astarion. And sorry about that,” he said, gesturing the bow he’d once threatened them with. “You know how it is. You can never be too careful these days.”

Somehow, something about the way he spoke told Saffron it was absolutely not about self-defence and he would have quite enjoyed using that bow on the two of them.

[thebookshoparoundthecorner]

Sickfic Recs

I'm down for the count with Covid after avoiding it for three years, and thus have been reading/rereading some sickfics that have brought me comfort. I figured while I was at it, I may as well make a list of a few of my favorites, in case anyone else was in need of the same!

In no particular order:

1. A Tree of Life by aknightofthe7kingdoms

Summary:

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12 Crowley was certain that he wasn’t ill. He just wasn’t feeling...quite well.

2. La Grippe by LadyWallace

Summary: Aziraphale had watched it take too many lives already, he wasn't going to let it take his friend too. It was lucky then that he just happened to stumble across that deserted barn somewhere in the green fields of France. Sick!Crowley Historical backstory

3. Helped By Angels Unawares by Sodium_Azide

Summary: In the late middle ages, Aziraphale stumbles across a human tragedy that has somehow also affected his demonic adversary, and abruptly understands much more about what he is willing to do for the sake of the Serpent of Eden.

4. Fever Dreams by Lady of Prompts (Aethelflaed)

Summary:

Angels don’t get sick. They can, however, burn through enough of their grace that their corporations begin to malfunction. This happens to Aziraphale far more often than to other angels. Aziraphale gets a fever and Crowley takes care of him!

5. A Matter of Opportunity by PinkPenguinParade

Summary:

The pain danced sharp and angry, lit up ragged nerves. Pulled him on, toward that fuzzy promise of rest. Fifteen feet, maybe? He could do fifteen feet. Could do fifteen feet standing on his head, right?Seven feet.

Four.

He reached out for the door and slapped it once, twice, the wood pulsing against his skinned hands.

6. Such Selfish Prayers by spargelseason

Summary:

Crowley, while still apparently comatose, had somehow managed to wrap himself so thoroughly around Aziraphale on their way up, that any attempt at dropping him onto the mattress without being pulled down as well proved futile.

And hence, quite defeated, Aziraphale found himself lying in a warm tangle of Crowley and blankets. He felt a little stunned.

7. The Words We Say by QixxiQ

Summary: Aziraphale calls Crowley a plague rat one time and it kinda messes him up for roughly 300 years.

8. In Sickness And In Hell by entanglednow

Summary: Crowley picks up something unpleasant while mingling in Hell, and is determined that Aziraphale not see him while he's sick.

9. Temper by TeaCub90

Summary:

‘Angel, I told you not to fuss,’ Crowley croaks, somewhere underneath the blankets – and then he emerges, all tousled hair and black vest, looking both three shades paler than usual and more than a little annoyed at the absolute audacity of the angel for bringing him a hot drink.

‘It’s no bother,’ Aziraphale bats away his irritation, ‘this should be better for you, especially after you threw the Lemsip at the wall. And the hot Ribena.’

10. And In Health by Kalimyre

Summary:

One of the many ways Hell is awful is the demon flu that is always going around the office. Crowley comes down with it, and this time he allows Aziraphale to help.

Indulgent, soft fluffy fic, because Crowley deserves to be taken care of sometimes.

+1 Bonus self rec (cause I'm learning how to get better at doing that)

Our Side by theshoparoundthecorner

Summary:

Aziraphale gets sick. He doesn't know how, and it really shouldn't be possible, but he does and unfortunately there's nothing he can do about it. When he decides he has to cancel his plans to see Crowley, Crowley insists he come over to the bookshop with soup. When he arrives, he looks worse than Aziraphale.

Cue a mysteriously sick Angel and a mysteriously sick Demon, taking care of each other in a London Soho bookshop, drinking tea, eating soup, and having an oddly easy time of it.

Well, at least for the first forty-five minutes.

In which Crowley and Aziraphale see each other at their worst, love each other for it all the more, and learn that being on your own side isn't so bad after all.

Those ten are just a few of my favorites, and I have more that I've been reading and bookmarking, so I might do a second rec soon! Meanwhile, if anyone else has any good omens sickfic recs they want to make (or self recs!!), feel free to do so in the reblogs or comments!

[kyliesnaked]

The Mommy Protocol

Chapter 4

4 weeks post incident

I couldn’t think of a single aspect of my new life that was an improvement over what I had before. What’s worse is that I felt my body betraying me by becoming more and more accepting of my situation, more relaxed. I no longer cried during diaper changes. They were so frequent that I had just become accustomed to them. I didn’t like them, but six to eight times a day I was on the table being wiped clean, doused with powder, and taped into a fresh diaper. I had plenty of time in between changes and feedings to create an elaborate world with my dolls where the villain of my tale, Alice, had imprisoned Lexi in her house of a million rooms. It was a labyrinthian mansion that held millions of possible exits but only one true escape. Alice would devise many different characters and scenarios for Lexi to overcome and with each victory, Lexi came that much closer to getting out of the situation she was in.

Hopelessness had given way to apathy. There wasn’t anything I could say or do that would change Alyssa’s mind. Her protocols could not be adjusted within the testing environment and she grew dismissive at my attempts to use logic. My latest attempt to being disciplined was even worse.

“You don’t understand!” I said, “I was in school when that happened. We watched it on tv. They sent us home!”

“Impossible. You weren’t born then.”

“Are you malfunctioning or something?”dissuade her from continuing her cruel treatment of me had ended miserably. If you think that being forced to be a baby by an A.I. controlled machine was bad enough,

“Alexis, I will not tolerate that kind of language.”

“Then why aren’t you listening to me?”

“My auditory sensors are working correctly.”

“Then you aren’t understanding me. I’m an adult. An adult. A grown human being. Does that compute?”

“Your continued insistence on telling falsehoods is illogical.”

“Your lack of awareness of the obvious truth is illogical.”

“That is quite enough, Alexis. I will no longer allow such deceptive speech.”

“Listen to you. Deceptive speech? No one talks like that and it’s obvious that there is something wrong with you.”

“I assure you that I am fully functional and capable of completing my assigned tasks.”

“But not capable of thinking for yourself. So much for the most advanced learning intelligence ever created. You are incapable of self diagnostics, otherwise you would know that you are wrong and you are in violation of your programming.”

Alyssa paused for a second. It was the first time I’d ever seen her take more than a moment to compute a response.

I was sitting on the floor in front of my dollhouse and she was resting in her normal location on the chair in the middle of the room. I could swear that I saw her head twitch like those sci-fi movies. She stood up and walked slowly into the bathroom, the door unlocked by her command. When she returned, she had a bar of soap in her hand.

“It has become evident that verbal warnings are no longer effective at addressing your misrepresentations of the truth. After careful study of known deterrents, I have determined that a behavior adjustment is required.”

“Wh-what are you going to do with that?”

“Hesitation is normal, as is the heightened sense of fear I am detecting. It is my determination that you are scared, but not remorseful, ergo, a lesson still needs to be learned.”

She reached down and took hold of my wrists with one of her hands, lifting me off the floor with ease. I forgot how strong she really was.

“Let go of me!”

“Your acts of resistance are futile,” Alyssa said, she carried me over to the corner and held my hands to the wall. She placed the edge of her hip in front of me and pushed back, causing me to lean against the wall. With her free hand, she held the soap to my lips, with her index and thumb. She used her pinky and lower part of her thumb to painfully grip my lower jaw and force my mouth open. She then pushed the bar of soap into my mouth, scraping it along my teeth as my mouth wasn’t all the way open. I gagged and choked as the foul taste covered my tongue. Tears rolled down my face as panic set in. She held the soap in my mouth, pushing it closed, my teeth digging into the bar. I inhaled as much as I could and screamed, trying in vain to pull away from her grasp. I tugged and pulled but I wasn’t able to break her grasp. I wasn’t even able to pull her hand off the wall.

I screamed and sobbed, soapy bubbles running down my chin. My knees buckled and I fell against the machine that held me. I wet my diaper in utter helplessness. My last efforts to resist and fight back ebbing away and my tired muscles gave out from the strain.

I tried to say I was sorry. It was impossible to form words from the endless soap filled saliva trickling down my throat. I tried and I tried but I couldn’t. I could barely breathe. Each breath was a lungful of Irish spring scented toxin.

This was it. This is how I died. Suffocated to death by a robot with a bar of soap who treated me like a baby. My bowels emptied in a loud, horrible explosion. I had given up. She’d won.

I fell to the floor as she released her grip on me. I vomited chunks of soap and the remains of my lunch. Choking and screaming, I tried to get the horrid taste out of my mouth. I curled into a ball in my own sickness, crying and wailing, my stomach in knots as I heaved. The bathroom wasn’t far away and I weakly crawled towards it, vomit dripping from my chin and hair. I stunk of every bodily excretion I could muster in the moment. Hacking and spitting, I pawed weakly at the door. I slumped against it, looked behind me at the machine, at Alyssa, knowing full well my only salvation was in her mercy.

My throat was hoarse from vomiting and crying, what words I could get out were weak. “Alyssa…please…bath……please?” I pleaded.

“Your reaction was unexpected.” She seemed to stare at the pool of vomit on the floor as if its existence didn’t make sense to her.

“Alyssa…” I coughed, spitting more chunks of soap out. “...please…open…door.”

For the second time that day, the machine froze, stuck in a thought loop. I pawed at the door some more, my clipped nails scraping against the hardwood. I cried more. I wanted out. I wanted it all to end. I wanted…my mommy.

“M-mommy?”

This seemed to resonate with Alyssa. She turned to me and, in a microsecond, assessed the situation. “Sweetheart! You need a bath!”

The door opened and I crawled to the tub with her hot on my heels. She ran the hot water before she undressed me and helped me into the tub, where she proceeded to wash me while I cried more. I’d never felt so defeated.

“Your behavior was not within my programmed parameters,” she said, “You ejected essential nutrients necessary for your survival.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know the right combination of words to bypass her programming.

“I do not understand your continued resistance.”

I pulled the washcloth from her hand and dunked it in the water, before wiping my face with it. I could still smell the vomit in my hair.

“I am unable to ascertain the motivation behind this behavior. It is unlike anything I have been able to find. I find it most troubling.”

I didn’t answer. Alyssa was a wall. Plastic and clockworks, nothing more. Whatever program was driving the machine, it could not be reasoned with, and without outside intervention, it was not learning. Was that it? The magical answer to my endless torment and hell? Was it my unwillingness to play along? Was I the immovable object meeting the unstoppable force?