#shes even got a stealth coat

[almellow-crk]

While I take some days from writing (ElderCacaoWeek left me dry) I wanted to start rambling about other stuff related to my favorite ships. Specially, their fankids. This might be a long, long post. So please bear with me and enjoy this info dump. Imma separate them in form of AU's. Like:

Guardian Of Freedom AU (ElderCacao):

Dawn Dew Cookie: The adoptive daughter of Dark Cacao and Elder Faerie. They found her abbandoned in the woods of Beast-Yeast, alone and shrivering. Obviously a faerie, they both tried to look for her parents to no avail. In the end, they adopted her. Her wings are those of a dragon-fly, her dough is light lavender with traces of blue, she has long hair, soft green eyes, made into two low ponytails, and wears a light green dress. She does have a mouth (In human form means she's mute), so she uses her magic to write her thoughts in the air. She's very calmed, and quite cold with strangers. She practices her magic with Elder Faerie and trains to be the a future counselor of both kingdoms. She thinks very little of herself from the trauma of being abbandoned. She's still curious about her original family, but is glad with the one she has now.

Choco Moth Cookie: Children made with 50/50 dark cacao beans and faerie flowers. Has a moth ruffle and antennaes, and uses his wings as a cape (mimicking his parents), short dark hair with silver stripes on it, red eyes, dark dough, his wings have the patterns of leaves. No one knows from where or how this kid got his energy. It's a bundle of troubles whenever he goes, touched everything and asks everyone. There's no day where this kid isn't smiling. Even after growing up to be a mighty warrior, he still carries that optimistic innocence from his early years. He's very open to strangers, despite all of his family's dissaproval of his actions. Yet he welcomes most of them, besides, he has the strength to kick their asses if they misbehaves.

Hate Has Expiration Date AU (BurningCheese & MysticCacao) (@burningcheese-merchant)

Molten Sphinx Cookie: The daughter of Burning Spice Cookie and Golden Cheese Cookie, with a 100% of cheese boiled at extreme temperatures. Her dough is toasted yellow, short wild hair of a light yellow (her mane), orange eyes with sharp pupils, wears a short blouse and a short skirt, all with "eigyptian" gliphs. She has no antennaes, but a tail. She's the most S.P.O.I.L.E.D brat you'll ever meet. Everyone is below her (except her parents) and everyone must meet her expectations or else she throws a big tantrum (which means transforming into a big sphinx that throw boiling cheese as fire from her breath). At least, when she's an adult, her fumes step down a little and is more conscious of the destruction she's capable of. She's always being humbled down by her parents and her fiancé... Which is the next fankid.

Cacao Powder Cookie: The son of Dark Cacao Cookie and Mystic Flour Cookie, came to be from cacao beans ground into powder. He has a dark brown dough, with a darker shade for his middle lenght hair, white eyes, he wears a light dark armor with a coat covering his head. He is very quiet, composed and thinks rationally. Prefers to hide his emotions from others even if they mistake him for someone cold. He can turn himself into flour and surprise others, being stealth his main ability. He also has a "beast form", one only he and his mother know. He's a very loved prince too, but dislikes brats. He had a rivalry with Molten Sphinx before they decided to marry in the future (Guess who proposed first)

BitterSpice AU:

Spicy Bonbon Cookie: Made with a 70% of cacao bean and a 30% of spices. She has a dark dough, hides her small red antennaes on her long and wild hair, has red fiery eyes and she's always smiling. She wears a short red kimono with flames and shorts below it, and uses a katana as a staff to conjure dark flames. She's not a happy kid, despite her father showering her with love and attention. She's trying very hard to be a queen someday. And it includes don't letting her emotions show. Most of the time she poses as a frail princess only to get to know her enemy's weaknesses. The wild spices obeys her commands as well.

Korintje Cinnamon Cookie: Made entirely of this spice. Her dough is a very dark red covered in war tattoos, with long silky hair and small antennaes coming out of her, she wraps her chest with bandages and uses a long skirt. She is a wild one, some times even behaving like a wild animal due to how she was raised. Deep inside she's a cutie pie, but she has layers of hard dough that works a shield from both physical and mental attacks. She's dumb, very much so, but her insticts are sharp. She can also hunt pretty well on her own, mostly thanks to the fire powers she got from her papa. She can light up her fists on fire and actually run in the air lighting up her feets on fire.

[besiegedhunter]

I've been thinking this since the Technical Test came out however the Beta finally made me talk about it so: Wulfgard, the Lupo guy who was revealed all the way back in the announcement trailer, is he not like Endfield's version of Projekt Red?

Like obviously he's not the Revoyager version of Red but like, what got me to talk about this was some cgs found in the Beta's files and this one specifically:

This reminds me of Red so much. A child presumably compelled to murder by a Signori, use a knife and having gray fur and a glowing red eye? That was Red when she was younger. You don't even have to squint to imagine this was in Arknights proper.

But I wanted to go through the points to this because genuinely there's so much. For example:

See how one of his shoulders is black and the other Red? Well Red's coat is the exact same:

I also want to mention how Red's shirt works because the back is extended and Wulfgard's coat cuts off halfway down his torso but the back of his coat continues down to his calves.

Then for some other points:

He's consistently shown using knives. There's that cg but on his model he has knives, he using a knife to kill a boss in the beta (forgoes his pistols entirely for this), in the Technical Test he has an idle where he uses his knife on his mask and his sprite back then doesn't feature the greatsword he uses but has him holding a knife (also having two on his person):

His eyes which are more orange/gold consistently glow and I mean glow red, appearing both in his idle and a cutscene. Now, we've not seen Red's eyes glow in a cg, the anime etc but I think it's worth noting that Red's S2 has her eyes glow red:

Also in a similar vein is the effects that they use. In the cutscene where we first meet Wulfgard in the Beta he's moving pretty fast, fast enough to create a red trail behind him or perhaps it's indicative of something going on:

Which again we don't particularly see Red have but she is known for being fast and if you pay close attention to her S2's effects during the animation:

There is a red blur to her which mind you is not a blur to her model or particularly anything of that sort. I'd also hesitate it's part of the explosion she causes when she lands but regardless it's different than the effect for her S1:

This effect is used for most operators I believe when you deploy them and as such, being noticeably different from her S2 suggests there's more to the effects used.

More to this and our next point is Red in the animated trailer for Arknights. In it she uses arts which she uses to propel herself and attach to the wall:

Which I feel this is what Red's S2 is depicting, for example it looks like the explosion in it as well:

But another thing that it looks like is the next cutscene of Wulfgard and we see this:

He moved incredibly fast during that attack with his knife, seemingly propelled forwards which is pretty different than Red's but frankly we don't know much about what Red's capable of.

And then Wulfgard's actual personality because it's weirdly like Red as well, so from his files. I'll make points as we go along:

The theme to Red's character is her immaturity (see her token being a baby tooth), and so Wulfgard's maturity being brought up and opposite is curious.

Red naturally knows the wilderness extremely well due to her being raised out there. Red says that she would rather work on her own and would excel in those missions. Also Wulfgard at this point in time used a claymore mind you but he's good at stealth which is not something you'd expect just looking at him.

Here I just want to point out that his reflexes in particular are being commented on as Red's is also and uh it's an understatement to comment on how sharp they are is all I'll say.

Here he's a topic of discussion primarily for how dangerous he is which reminds me of how Red is well known for going on the most dangerous missions and how Red is dangerous if you get too close to her.

But also that Perlica is vouching for Wulfgard and if he does have a Signori because it's vaguely similar to Red with Kal'tsit and Ascalon wherein they value her abilities and also are investing in her. Beyond that though I doubt it's similar, though if Wulfgard largely works for Perlica that could.

Then this! I was saying he was like Red due to this before his makeover.

He avoids social situations himself, something that he prefers. Not many people actually know of him. As I said above, largely only Perlica deals with him and then: social distancing.

Like I'm unsure whether it's the same as how Red feels about people getting close to her but it's such a curious line for me that it needed to be specified.

That's all the points that I have. I don't have access to the beta to see his voicelines for if the files are the same but as is this is a weird amount of similarities to Red. If she ended up becoming a Revoyager down the line it'd be so strange.

Like him and Red are almost as alike as Chen and Ch'en.

Which then lastly I want to mention how strange it is that he is the seeming fourth member to the main Endfield squad if you will. I can't confirm whether he is either but he is featured prominently and is in a decent bit of the story from I can tell.

Like you have the Endministrator/Player who is just the Doctor from Arknights. Perlica is very much like Amiya from the surface, the face of the game/actual main character. Chen is Ch'en who is one of the main protagonists of at least the Reunion arc and hugely important to the game. And then Wulfgard who more than anything is similar to Red?

Like Texas would make more sense probably but it's Red which I mean look at my account, I absolutely think Red is important and should be important. It's just curious if Wulfgard is purposefully similar to Red and is making the Signori story closer to the main story of Endfield.

That said I'm hoping Siracusa 3 does similar to Red but we'll have to wait for that.

[stinkysam]

Monkey D. Luffy - For staying alive.

Warning : blood, death mention

Genre : angst-ish / fluff

Synopsis : "Male reader x LAOP Luffy, Reader getting hurt and luffy being worried" - Anon

Reader : male (he/you)

You got hurt by Klahadore, also known as Kuro of a Hundred Plans, as you were trying to protect Kaya from him in her parents' bedroom, unaware of how fast and stealthy he could be.

He stabbed you with his gloved hand like it was nothing, before you could even do anything, the five blades sliding smoothly into your flesh. You coughed up blood as you fell to the floor, more blood seeping out of your wounds. You passed out shortly after.

When Luffy entered, the first thing he saw was you down, blood covering your chest and spilling on the wooden floor, and Kuro about to attack Kaya.

"Goodbye miss Kaya." Said Kuro, raising his right hand to strike, only for it to be grabbed by Luffy.

"These are my friends. You don't get to mess with them."

Kuro was fuming, he thought he had gotten rid of him !

"You're annoyingly resilient." He said calmly, replacing his glasses with the palm of his hand.

"Well, I am made of rubber." Luffy smiled.

Both men were confident in their victory. Each trusting their own abilities.

Although he didn't expect this level of stealth and rapidity, Luffy managed to throw Kuro through the window, sending him unconscious out of the house.

The first thing he did was gently grab you and place you on the nearest bed, while Nami asked Kaya to call for a doctor.

Kaya comes back, hands full of unused rolls of bandages.

"The doctor is on their way." She says.

"Is he gonna be okay ?" Luffy asks Nami.

She shakes her head as she shrugs. It looks really bad and she has no idea how you're still alive with five stab wounds in your stomach.

"I don't know, Luffy, he's in a really… bad shape. He should be dead."

Usopp helped Luffy wrap the bandages around you, their shaky hands holding you in a sitting position as more blood gushed out of your wounds. Usopp was breathing loudly while Luffy wanted to throw up at the sight of your blood coating his hands.

Luffy frowned at her words. No way you'd die ! You can't die. Not because he arrived too late ! No !

He wouldn't let it come to this. It couldn't. He couldn't lose you already. So soon after getting you to join his ship. He didn't care about anything at this moment but your health.

It was only the beginning of his adventures. He couldn't start it by losing someone so close and dear to him. Not now, not ever.

Once the bandages were put you were laying down again. Luffy wouldn't leave your side at all. He wanted to help you but he didn't know how to.

He softly stroked your head, petting your hair carefully as he eyed the dried blood under your lips. Fuck, this was bad. You looked so pale and you had lost so much blood.

His other hand rested on your stomach, where five red spots continued to grow despite the bandages.

His head snapped up when the doctor finally arrived, pulling away instinctively to give them some space to work. You were still unconscious as he began to work on your wounds, assessing the damage and closing them.

Luffy watched it all, hoping you'd wake up as soon as the doctor was finished but sadly you still needed lots of rest.

You woke up after a few hours, eyes puffy with Luffy's sleeping head resting on the mattress next to you. You tried to sit up, but you couldn't get yourself to move, your stomach too painful for you to do anything.

As you groaned in pain, Luffy woke up and tried to wrap his arms around you.

"[Name] ! I knew you'd wake up." He said, hugging you, his head resting on your chest as you still tried to process everything.

"And Klahadore ?" Your voice is weak and hoarse.

"Don't worry, [Name], I sent him flying." He says, finally looking at you as he smiles. He stares at you for a few seconds before resting his head once again against your chest.

"Thank you." He murmured.

[qhoaaaa]

Milo and Sweetheart who have kids that gained both their abilities

Imagine dilf! dad!Milo getting pounced on by one of his children whose in their shifted form but invisible

INVISIBLE WOLF PUPS WAITT AWEEE

He play wrestles with them regardless if they're shifted or not

Invisible fur all over the couch, becomes visible when they're in their human form

Milo and Sweetheart take turns to vacuum the couch at least once a month

"Wish my fur went invisible..." (he's pouting with the loud 'VMMMM' of the vacuum in the background)

"Milo, you're jealous over fur?" (Sweetheart's there for moral support)

"Yes! That's so cool!" (He's just overjoyed and Sweetheart is looking at him with the proudest smile ever)

Marie loves her grandpups, she always somehow sniffs them out if they're hiding and playing together in hide and seek

Stealth x Shifters pups who have near all white/grey coats, rare if they're not

Milo and Sweetheart with triplets, 2 girls and 1 boy; the boy has a white coat but the sisters have brown like Milo, they all have Sweetheart's eyes in both forms

Milo and Sweetheart who tattooed their kids' first shift paw prints on their shoulders (hc from a post I saw a long while ago, sorry idk who it's originally from!!)

Their kids WON in the genetic jackpot I don't make the rules

The entire pack was in awe of the pups' abilities because nothing like that had ever happened, pack wide party commences, even the Keaton pack was invited and some members of the Solaire Clan (that the pack liked lmao)

When the kids grew up, one of the girls has a smaller wolf like Milo and he's raised her to never let that bother her like it did to him before Sweetheart came in the picture

Sweetheart got Milo to let Colm see the kids and when Colm came over, Milo was glaring daggers at him the entire time, just wary over his dad and protective over his kids

C - "These are yours, Milo?"

M - "They're ours, who else's they'd be?"

The kids love to chase each other in the forest, going invisible and then trying to guess where they are by pouncing

Ash might've tried to join in once... miraculously only hurt a paw when he misjudged where a pup was and sprained his paw when he landed

[g0tmilkx3]

The Less I Know The Better

Sydney likes Luca's cooking and Carmy wants to kill himself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Arguing, Angst, Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy, Alcohol, Panic Attacks, Codependency

Divider: firefly-graphics.tumblr.com GIF: thiscoldheart.tumblr.com

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N:

I used to pray for times like this. I'm so happy I finished the fic and I am unburdened by it. I have one more installment planned. It's not a continuation but how I imagine they got together in the first place. I'll try to get that out soon. The title is based on The Less I Know the Better by Tame Impala. Posted on AO3.

She didn't feel like she was in her body when she woke up the next morning.

Her head was floating away to some vast unknown paradox, she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling. It made her senses fall out of whack. She felt cold, even in his warm embrace. His body was always so warm. When he pulled her against him she’d sink into it, against his artfully crafted body, she felt at home.

She missed the mindlessness his touch brought. He’d look at her and hold her like she didn’t have to worry, ever, about anything. He always made her feel safe. She briefly registered an emotion she hadn’t felt since her business failed. It was gone, shaken off by the flexing of her fingers down to her toes.

The feeling left her and she could finally move.

She slipped out from under him, a stealth mission to leave the house before he woke up. He stirred when she stood up, her  blood ran ice cold. With a heart fighting its way out of her chest and tightly closed eyes - she begged god to keep him asleep. Just for a little longer, she wasn’t ready to face him. After a few moments of silence his breathing evened out and she could safely open her eyes. The breath she released was sure to be quiet.

The morning didn’t greet her with the smell of freshly cut grass or a warm radiant sky, but with a brittle bite. Her cheeks were stinging and her lashes were wet by the time she reached her father’s house.  

Emmanuel stood by his coffee maker. He watched as his sweet'n low disappeared into his coffee. His back was to her when she turned her key and welcomed herself inside. She never got rid of her key when she moved out in case something went wrong. God knows she was used to things going wrong.  

“Something tells me you want to talk.” He called behind him as he added cream to his cup. He watched as the color of his coffee lightened until it reached the desired hue.  

Sydney weakly snorted as she shrugged out of her puffer and heeled her shoes off at the door. She hung her coat on the rack and sat on the too stiff wooden seat sitting at the table. She sat in silence as the sounds of her father’s spoon clinking against a ceramic mug filled the air.

She absently noted that it was the mug she sculpted for him when she was just 9 years old.

More silence stretched between them.

She liked it though. She didn’t feel the need to perform or pretend like she wasn’t burning on the inside. He finally turned around bringing an extra cup with him, already filled with coffee prepared just how she liked it.  

“What’s on your mind sweet pea?” He took a seat, the wooden chair shifted under his weight and the floor creaked.  

Each time she tried to speak the words died on her tongue. She couldn’t form a coherent thought and the longer she struggled the more she thought about how stupid this all was.

Finally, she let herself breath.

“God, I wish mom were here.” She stared down at her reflection in her coffee. Nearly black with 2 sugars.

“So it’s one of those problems.” He spoke into his cup just before taking a healthy sip. The mug hit the table with a subtle 'clank'. “I can call auntie, but it’s close to midnight where she is.“ He was already moving to grab his phone when she stopped him.

“No, don’t bother auntie!" Her outburst made him pause. He slowly moved back to his previous position, watching his daughter with intensity. "It-“ she sighed glancing between her cup and her father’s befuddled face. He patiently awaited her confession. “It’s just about Carmy…” she bitterly chuckled as she she played with one of her braids. Twisting it around her finger before letting it fall. “Stupid really.”

“Ah,” he raised his eyebrows. “It’s one of those problems.” He hummed, contemplating his next set of words. Silently pondering how to best go about this. “Why do you say it’s stupid?”

She shot him a deadpan stare, “Come on. Boy problems, at this age?” She rested her elbows on the table and ran her hands over her face. Her fingers rested firmly against her eyes.

She pressed and pressed until the burning feeling of tears subsided. She wished she didn’t feel the need to be so strong all the time. She wished she could just breakdown and let those feelings flow instead of intellectualizing them every chance she got.

Emmanuel gently nudged her shoulder effectively bringing her back down to reality.  

“If you have a problem, you have a problem.” He waited until her glassy eyes reached his. “Talk to me, you can tell me anything.”

She sniffled, laying her hands flat against the table, sliding them back so she could feel the smooth surface. A grounding technique that always seemed to work. She slid them until they fell off the table and rested in her lap. It wasn't working this time.

“I just didn’t think I’d ever find myself back here again.” She muttered more to herself than to him. But he nodded along nonetheless. “We broke up. It was finished. Yeah, it was awkward at the restaurant but it was working…” she lifted one shoulder and let it drop before adding. "Working enough." She shook her head in disbelief. “Then- then he came to me for help and I just couldn’t say no. It’s like he knows just what to say and I’d do anything for him. Anything.”  

Emmanuel nodded slowly taking in her words. Hanging onto everything she said, saving his response for later when she was done pouring her heart out.

“Then I learn he hasn’t let go of his ex and they’re still” her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she felt her throat burn with constriction. She sipped her coffee, letting the warmth slide down her throat and warm her belly. “They’re still friends and he brought her to family dinner and I don’t know. I think I did something stupid just because I was jealous and afraid. Now i'm debating if I even want to go to California still and you know this opportunity is all I ever really wanted. I still lo-“ she choked on her words before gulping them down.“I just don’t want to lose him.”

He inhaled deeply taking in everything she said. But he thought not to speak. - at least for now. He let her words linger and he let them penetrate his mind. His daughter was his heart, a spitting image of her mother, he just wanted to coddle her. To hold her against him and tell her everything would be okay and that he’d get rid of anything causing her distress.

As he stared at her he realized she wasn’t that little girl playing in his shoes anymore. She wasn't tripping over her feet and scraping her knees on the hot concrete. That was back when his kisses could make the pain go away in an instant. She was different. She had complex thoughts and even more complex feelings that he was afraid to admit he didn’t quite understand.

He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t know what to do.  

“I ever told you about the time your mother and I broke up?” He watched as her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Yeah it was Summer of '83, she was missing home. Her parents were getting older and she wanted to spend as much time as she could with them.”

She watched as his eyes drifted to the ceiling and he recalled what happened all those years ago.

“I think I told her that if she left me I’d never forgive her, that I’d never speak to her again.”

“God dad.”   

“I know, I know.” He chuckled to himself. “But I just couldn’t imagine losing her or living apart. I wanted a family and I knew I didn’t want that with anybody else but her.” He shrugged. “I was being selfish. Selfish and stupid-”

“What'd she do?” She questioned before the tail end of his sentence could leave his mouth.

“She left.” He chuckled with the shake of his head. “I was dumb, a kid. I didn’t fully understand what love was. I didn’t think it could exist when there was such a great distance between us.”

Sydney thought about Carmy again. The way she’d felt sick at the thought of leaving him and The Bear. She shooed those thoughts away when her father began speaking again.   

“I lasted about three days, I think...” He recalled. “Maybe two and a half before I called her parents’ house. She didn’t want to speak to me but I wore her down and the first thing I said to her was that I missed her and that I was sorry.”   

She felt a warmth spread from her heart throughout her body. Despite herself, a smile broke over her face.  

“She of course told me to go to hell.” He laughed. His infectious laughter pulled Syd in, beckoning her to participate in his delight.

“So what?" She chuckled between her words. "You just wore her down even more?”

“Well, sorta kinda” he hummed with a grin on his face. “I got the next flight out and showed up at her parent’s doorstep with flowers and a ring. Hat in hand, I asked for her back.” He quirked his eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. “I think I gifted her parents some fresh fruit so they didn’t run me off their property.”

“Jesus, so did she take you back?” She leaned forward, cheeks aching from her smile. She loved hearing new stories about her late mother.

It was bittersweet, she knew that one day there wouldn't be anymore stories to tell.

“She did.” He supplied. “I asked her father for her hand that night and we were engaged the next morning. Flew back to the states a few days later.”

“Real smooth dad.” She chuckled. “Did she come back with you?”

“No, she stayed there for a few more months after I went back but we talked all the time. She taught me a lot, Syd.” He rested his hand over hers. “She taught me about patience and trust. She taught me to put myself first just like she did. Most importantly she taught me that love is something tangible, something real and nobody can define what it means for you, but you.” He let her sit with those words. “Now, I can’t tell you what to do in this situation. I know things are different nowadays in relationships. Kids aren’t getting married all willy nilly” he stopped short. “You’re not thinking of marrying this kid are you?”

“No dad.” She replied as she rolled her eyes. “It feels like we are though.”   

“Well, I’ll ask you this: How does he feel about all this?”   

“He-“ she stopped with a sudden realization. She hadn’t even spoken to him. She left him alone in her apartment in her bed after she confessed that she was leaving the state for an undetermined amount of time.

A fog lifted from her mind and it donned on her just how much of an asshole move that was. She hadn't even consider how he'd be taking all this.

“Dad I gotta go.”

Carmy blinked a few times adjusting to the sun's rays bleeding through the blinds. He let a yawn pass his lips as he rubbed his eyes. His arms reached out as the kinks in his shoulder popped and relaxed. He was used to mornings with Syd being spent in leisure. Quiet and intimate.

Whoever woke up first usually started breakfast. They never spent the morning after separated. Syd teased him once about being a ‘water sign’ (whatever that means) but Carmy hated the idea of waking up alone.

This was something Syd knew.

Carmy frowned when he felt that the other side of the bed was cold. He opened his eyes fully to examine the wrinkled bed sheets beside him. She'd been gone so long that the bed was now cold to touch.

“What the?” He turned his head around searching the space for her, listening for anything. “Syd?”

He stood up tugging on his pants and stumbling out of her room.

“Sydney?” He rushed through the space looking for her, a note, anything. But, she simply wasn’t home. He huffed pushing his hair back and staring at the white wall before him. No note, no notice, nothing.

Was he not worth the decency of a quick nudge, ‘Hey I'm headed out’? He just never thought she’d leave her own apartment to avoid an awkward rejection the morning after.

He felt so stupid.

He never felt stupider.

Of course, this was nothing, of course, this was a sympathy fuck or something worse. Like closure.

What else could it have been if shes that eager to get up and leave?

Carmy’s spiral of self-deprecation was cut short by the sound of keys turning in the door.

“You’re up!” She notes before turning completely around and locking the door. She used this precious time to squeeze her eyes shut and count to five. With a steadying breath, she turned around to face Carmy.

She always loved how sensitive he was when it was just the two of them. It was the look on his face that reminded her of their little agreement.

Leaving each other after having sex wasn’t something they did. Sex felt sacred to them, the time carved out was far too precious to ignore. After breaking up, the pact to remain in each other's embrace after still stood apparently.

“Yeah, I’m up!” He met her with a warm embrace, a warm smile on his face.

She was surprised at his reaction but decided that she liked this more than the expected awkwardness.

“Sorry, you had to wake up alone.” She exhaled sincerely into his shoulder.

He closed his eyes enjoying their closeness before pulling away.

“Where were you?” He grabbed the bags out of her hand and pecked her cheek before bringing them to the kitchen. “What's all this? You went grocery shopping?”

“Yeah on my way back I stopped by the store. I’m out of eggs and bacon and milk and you know everything.” She shrugged. “Wanted to make us breakfast.”

Something to soften the blow. Butter him up.

“That tends to happen when you spend all of your time at the restaurant.” He replied, playful sarcasm in his voice. He moved to begin cooking their breakfast. “Don’t feel bad, my place doesn’t look much better anyways.”

She wanted to help him but holding onto this secret, this brewing confession, left her mute and stagnant. After a few moments of watching him she cleared her throat and leaned against the counter.

“I bet.” She remembers all the mornings and nights when they had to make something out of thin air or order delivery if they were too tired from working.

She began putting the groceries Carmy didn’t need away.

"Where were you on your way back from?"

“Oh yeah I um I also went by my dads...”

Carmy sliced a square of butter and let it sizzle in the skillet. Something peculiar was in her tone, he knew that much.

“Yeah? How is he?” He glanced over at her finding that her face matched her tone. Peculiar.

“Still buying canned cabbage.”

He barked a laugh before sparing her a glance. “Gotta get him to see the light, Chef!”

“I’ve been trying, Chef.” They both laughed, naturally letting it tapper out. A swollen silence filled the air. “I talked to him about us”

That seemed to make Carmy’s ears perk up. “What about us?” He tried to keep his tone casual, but she knew him well. Each inflection in his voice stuck out like a sore thumb. No matter how normal he tried to sound.  

“I asked for advice.” She slowly delivered “Carmy. I don’t know if what we did was smart.”

He momentarily stopped scrambling the sizzling eggs, it was only for a second but the hitch in movement was noticeable.

“I’m not saying I regret it or anything,” She supplied quickly. “But I already have my plane ticket. I’m leave soon and we’re-“

“We’re not gonna work long distance.” He finished her sentence, realization seemingly hitting him in that moment. “You're right we won’t.” He admitted dejectedly.

Frankly, she was surprised by his answer and how understanding he sounded. She wished that she could fully understand the breadth of her decision herself.

She promised herself from a young age that she’d never let anything hold her back from her dreams - not money, not circumstances, not relationships - one thing seemed to slip through the cracks.

She misses when she never looked twice in a guys (or a girls, for that matter) general direction.

She kept her head down for so long working, working, working now her dreams were being fulfilled right before her eyes and she found herself hesitating. All because of some blue eyed man with anger issues.

She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to leave The Bear.

But she knew she had to. She’d resent him. She’d resent herself. If her mother’s death taught her anything, its to always live your life for yourself. Time here on earth was so short, a drop in the boundless ocean. She had to spend her time doing what she loved even if it called for great sacrifice.

“I can’t pass this up.” Her voice cracked. A very surreal feeling thickened the air as they accepted defeat.

This felt eerily final. 

“I wouldn’t want you to," He let a beat pass before adding on an obligatory, “Chef.” He sighs, clicking the front burner up a few notches. “Just don’t go over there and decide you like working in their kitchen more than mine."

"Yours?" She raised an eyebrow, her teeth winked at him as she smiled.

"Ours." They both smiled at his words and settled into more tension-filled silence.

“What's gonna happen to us?”

Carmy rattled the words around in his head as he plated the eggs and moved on to frying bacon. He focused on the popping sound of the grease and the smell of crisping pork. His movements were cathartic.

Cooking never left him. It never disappointed him. He could rely on this.

“Carm?” She tilts her head and meets his eyes.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat “We'll be,” he searched for the words. What would ex-lovers become if they ran a restaurant together? "Friends?"

She chuckled surprised at how heavy and foreign the word sounded in this context. But that was better than strangers or whatever the fuck they've been these past couple months.

"Friends with Chef Carmen Berzatto." She slowly nodded becoming familiar with the term that now described their relationship. "I'll take it."

They waited for the words to settle and for the air to return back to normal but it hadn't and eventually Carmy finished plating their breakfast.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower then head out.” He began walking away before she could reply.

"We're not eating together?"

"I'm not that hungry actually!" He closed the bathroom door behind him.

Time apart would be good, Carmy thought. They’d get time to think and to grow. This was good.

This had to be good.

✓ A pen.

✓ The ceiling fan.

✓ Boots.

✓ The TV.

✓ A pillow.

Five things he could see, check.

‘Gauge your surroundings. This will help ground you.’

Carmy's therapist taught him this method not too long ago. It quickly became one of the only things that could ground him nowadays.

She taught it to him towards the end of one of their first sessions. Her voice was calm and slow, drawing him out in a steady tempo of gentle negotiation. She spoke to him as if he had a bomb strapped to his chest and any sudden movements would set it off. He’ll never forget that day.

He was finally opening up about Mikey, telling her all about how they didn't have the best relationship but he somehow felt closer to him after his death. He hadn't realized how much he'd spaced out until he opened his eyes and he was back in his mother's house. Glass was breaking. A million alarms blared in his ears replacing his thoughts. Everybody was yelling. He couldn't breathe.

A panic attack in front of a stranger was new.

When he finally calmed down he realized that the world hadn't exploded and chunks of the rock weren't drifting through space leaving him to float in the vast unknown.

He was still in her office. He was still alive.

He blinked the memory away and rubbed his hands against his jeans, hoping the rough feeling against his sweaty palms would bring him back to earth.

He began naming four things he could touch under his breath.

"Jeans." He continued moving his hands over his thighs.

"Lambskin jacket." The inside was lined with fur.

"Shutter." It sat atop his bedside lamp - the warmth felt nice again his palm.

"Blanket." Sugar gifted it to him this past Christmas, it was way too fluffy but it did keep him warm at night.

What could he hear?

A bird chirping just outside of the window. It’d been going for a while he realized.

The low hum of electricity.

His phone beeping.

He took note. Then it beeped again and again until he descended from the clouds and found that it was ringing. He did a double-take at the contact before answering.

“Carmy?” Her voice bled through the receiver and he felt like he could breathe again.

Light. He felt it shining through the phone.

“You there?”

“Yeah, I,” He inhaled more air before blowing it out in once quick exhale. “I’m here.”

“Are you okay?” She worried her bottom lip, listening for any signs of distress.

She promised herself before her move that she'd focus on looking forward not back. But being friends with Carmy kept her feet firmly planted in the past. She felt them slipping back into the place they were at just before they got together.

Their exchanges were far too soft, far too thoughtful, and far too tense to be simply platonic. She had to remind herself that they'd been there and done that. This was good.

This was better.

“I am. I was just- it’s nothing." He scratched the back of his head. Unruly curls tangled around his nimble fingers. "Trying this 5,4,3,2,1 method my therapist taught me. It helps me calm down..." He plopped down on his couch and threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. "I was actually thinking about things I could hear before you called.”

“I know that method." She replied before checking the time.

She didn't need to leave for another 15 minutes. “If I’m not mistaken you have 2 more steps to go then.”

“I'm okay now, you- you help me breathe.” He confessed through a relieved chuckle. "So, tell me are you running that place yet or what?"

Sydney grinned but didn't let his charming words deter her. “What are two things you can smell.” She encouraged.

He realized his leg was still bouncing, maybe he wasn’t completely grounded. “I made spaghetti earlier and accidentally put too much garlic, so, garlic.”

“I bet it was still fire.” She hummed almost dreamily remembering the taste of his cooking.

“Wish you were here to taste it.” He muttered sadly playing with a rip in his jeans.

“Alright, big guy don’t go soft on me now.” She teased ignoring the butterflies in her belly. “What else can you smell?”

“Ah, my cologne I guess it’s new I kinda hate it." He pulled at the collar of his shirt, bringing it up to his nose before dropping it. "Too, I don’t know, fancy.”

“Yeah, you do love an earthy scent." She closed her eyes missing him now more than ever. Missing the way he smelled when he held her close and did the thing with his hips that made her words sound like simlish. "Now lastly what can you taste?”

“I had a stick of orbit earlier and the taste is still in my mouth.” He waited a beat. "Happy now?"

“Beaming!" She switched ears and walked to look out her window.

The small apartment she was subleasing was located smack dab in the middle of the art district. She enjoyed the sounds of the neighborhood at night and there was always some sort of performance art near the corner store she frequented. None of that mattered though, she rarely got to enjoy the artistic views because just outside of her window was a brick wall.

She ignored the symbolic implications that screamed at her every time she'd stare at it for too long.

“I feel alright- great actually, thank you Syd”

“No prob Carm." The heavy silence only reminded them of their distance. Sydney was the first to speak. "I'm adjusting to this place quicker than I expected actually.”

“Of course you are. You’re an amazing cook.”

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure her image in his head.

It was fuzzy and out of focus. Her complexion wasn't as vibrant. Her eyes were the wrong shade of brown. He missed how they flashed red in the sun. And pictures were just sobering reminders that she wasn't there with him.

He had to stop looking at them for his sanity.

“You’re reliable and confident."

A day without seeing her face was a day too many.

"Hey, you wanna Facetime?”

“Yeah one sec.” After a few seconds her face came into view.

Carmy felt his chest tighten. He’d spent their time apart creating this image of her in his head. He assumed because he missed her so much the image he created wasn’t accurate, there’s no way that she was that beautiful.

She was though. She was even more captivating than he remembered.

 Ve​nust: beautiful, comely, graceful, elegant.

Their busy schedules kept them from speaking to each as often as they wanted. Even when she lived in Chicago, they’d seen each other mostly in the kitchen.

Now they had to schedule appointments to talk. How bleak.

This phone call wasn't scheduled though.

“Hey, why’d you call?”

“Shit! Right, I called you. I was talking to Marcus the other day and apparently his friend from Copenhagen is coming here to fill in for someone. Isn’t that cool?”

She had her phone set up on her counter as she went about cooking. Carmy watched her in silence missing the way she moved around his kitchen.

“Luca? That's new. At least you'll kinda know someone there.” He hummed. “Are you making Bouillabaisse?”

"He's supposed to be arriving tomorrow." She stirred her simmering concoction. "How do you do that?" She chuckles keeping her eyes on the cloudy liquid. “I am. I’m cooking for everybody tomorrow including Luca and I’m super nervous so I’m trying out a few things!”

“Why are you so nervous?” He could really only think of one or two times she was genuinely nervous about her cooking.

Each time he wanted to grab her and convince her just how amazing she was. To stop doubting herself.

Then again he was probably being bias.

“Marcus speaks so highly of Luca and I know you and him are acquainted. I just want to live up to the hype.” She rambled.

“You will Syd.” He promised.

It was late. It was very late in Chicago so it was late in California and she still hadn't called.

He'd been busy all day so he didn't think twice about her promise to call later that day. But, he couldn't sleep and he'd grown tired of watching black and white reruns.

He tried not to watch his phone like a hawk but each time it lit up he couldn't help but grab it.

When she finally did call he had nodded off to sleep.

"Did I wake you I'm sorry!" She winced realizing how late it must've been. "I'll call back-"

"No!" He sat up "it's okay, I'm up." He yawned checking the time, 3:00 AM. He yawned again as he stood to grab a glass of water. "What's got you out so late?"

"It's only 1:00 where I am!"

"Still."

"Luca brought this special wine and we all got drunk off of one glass and did karaoke"

"Sounds like fun." He replied sincerely, preoccupied with boiling water. Tea would help him get back to sleep after their conversation. "How was the dinner? Did you impress everybody?"

"I did!" She exclaimed. "Sorry if I’m being loud.” He could almost see the expression she was donning. “Did you know that weed is legal here?"

Carmy grinned realizing she was still tipsy and probably a little buzzed. Whenever she had a little bit too much to drink she'd get this slur in her speech. Each word would hug the next and her Chicagoan accent grew thicker. She laughed a lot more, Carmy would worry about her cheeks hurting by the end of the night.

He gnawed on his lip to keep from confessing how badly he wanted to see her and kiss that smile off of her face. That's not how friends talked to each other after all.

"They loved it but Luca made this braised wagyu," She groaned. "Hands down, the best dish I've ever had!"

Carmy paused switching his phone to the other ear. "The best?" He masked the crack in his voice with a chuckle. "Luca?" He scrunched his nose up.

He didn't understand why that statement made him feel uncomfortable (for lack of a better term) but it did and he didn't like it. Previous to this development she always remarked about how his food was the best she ever had. He held that close to him, clinched between his finger afraid of losing it. Afraid of losing her favor. Her compliments felt like a drug and he was forever chasing that high. Wanting to please her. Have her direct that smile and those dangerous eyes at him. 

"Yes, you have to try it!"

"Maybe...'m not a huge fan of Wagyu. Also, I've tried his cooking before." He didn't know why he was lying. He loved Wagyu.

Luca was a good enough cook, not better than Carmy, but decent.

His hands rattled as he stirred honey into his piping hot tea. That unwelcome feeling twisted within him tugging him down to a level of immaturity he despised. Maybe as a teenager this would feel more normal but as he stands now it felt unhinged.

His chest burned as he tuned back into Syd's rambling.

"…I invited him to eat at The Bear when I fly back for my birthday next month."

"Ah, so you two are friends?" He continued, voice soft. He couldn't bring himself to ask her the question any louder.

"Of course! He's so cool Carmy. He's a beast in the kitchen. He's teaching me how to make this cake that has an insane amount of layers tomorrow."

"You really like this guy..." He muttered. "I'm happy you're getting on well there. Really, Syd you deserve this." He continued with renewed interest.

Aside from those weird feelings, he couldn't quite pin down, he knew that his job was hyping her up. Being a supporter. A friend.

One day he’ll stop having to remind himself of that sobering fact. 

"Thanks." She settled on her bed. "I miss you."

He hoped it happened soon.

"I miss y-" he began, but she continued on without missing a beat.

"I miss everybody at The Bear"

"Well, we miss you too."

Today was slow. It went smoothly. There were virtually no mistakes made in the kitchen and Carmy found himself with extra time on his hands.

He could be normal and go home or go out for a drink, but alas he preferred the kitchen. There was always something to do in the kitchen after all.

"Hey are you busy?" Sydney lounged on her couch, exhausted from the busy day she had.

He looked around finding that he was in fact not busy and had finished all of his tasks.

"Nope, what's up?"

"I got secret shopped again!"

"Damn chef," he whistled "you're on fire. Once this year once last year."

"The asswipe said my lobster tail was 'overcooked'."

"Lobster tails' easy to mess up." He shrugged "I have this method I can show you when you visit."

"No, actually its okay. Luca taught me this technique and it came out so much better."

“Right, right." He cleared his throat hoping the popping in his ears stopped. He tugged on his earlobe before grabbing a damp towel and wiping down the same spot he'd just finished wiping down.

There goes that weird feeling again, creeping up his body forcing him to move until it subsided.

"What is he like,” he hesitated. “He’s mentoring you now?”

If she heard the shakiness in his voice she ignored it.

"Not sure if I'd say all that. He's a good teacher though, kinda filling that gap." She replied busy multitasking.

Her phone sat on the bathroom counter with the speaker turned up so she could still carry on with the conversation. Her braids bunched up comfortably under her silk scarf. By morning her scarf would've slipped from her head and made its way to the floor and her braids would be sprawled across her silk pillow. It's the thought that counts.

"You told me he was good but dude he's like your level good."

She grabbed her phone and made her way to bed. At the sound of his bashful laughter she felt a pinch in her chest akin to an esophageal spasm.

Missing him had grown physical and she just wanted to keep him on the phone. She was hoping that the sound of his voice bleeding through her phone would comfort her.

She could lie back and imagine that he was right beside her, that he followed her here like she wanted him to. But he had his own shit he had to sort out. She knew begging him to come and see her every time she missed him wouldn't be feasible because she missed him every second of every day.

But Carmy, who was on the other side of the world, it seemed, didn't know this. He only heard her praises of Luca shooting out of the phone like spears and piercing him until he didn't want to be on the phone with her anymore.

"I actually do have something I need to do. Catch up later?"

"Sure..." she stared at her phone screen as he hung up.

She remained there trying to figure out where things went wrong and why he rushed off the phone. The screen soon turned black and she saw her reflection staring back at her.

She didn't get much sleep that night.

"So you're just not gonna visit?" He frowned. "It's your birthday Syd, come on just take a couple days off I'll buy you a ticket myself."

'I just wanna see you!' He stubbornly thought.

"I can't. It sucks for me too, but it’s the mayor. I can't exactly pass up serving the mayor." She frowned looking at a framed photo of the two of them at The Bear's official opening.

'"Come on Carmy stop working for one second and get a picture with Syd!" Sugar grabbed his arm dragging him out of the kitchen and out front where Sydney directed a delivery man around back. She moved to follow him and make sure he found his way when Sug grabbed her arm and placed her next to an annoyed Carmy.

"Natalie we open in 2 hours I don't have time for this." He huffed placing his hands on his hips.

"Yeah and I think he's taking the order to the wrong entrance." Syd looked behind her following a delivery man with her eyes. She began to call out to him when Sug grabbed her shoulder making her turn back around.

"If you two stand still for a second I can get a picture and you can go back to stressing out, okay?" She rolled her eyes "You guys looks so cute in your matching outfits!" She beamed holding her phone up.

"Uh, everybody's wearing these?" Sydney looked around ignoring Sugars sound of indignation. Carmy stifled a laugh agreeing with her.

"Just smile." She gave up trying to reason with them. Carmy threw his hand over Syd's shoulder and threw his other hand out to Sugar.

"Okay, okay see I'm smiling come on take the picture!"

Syd was caught laughing, her eyes closed. While Carmy was caught with his mouth open, his hand thrown towards the camera. He hated it, but Syd thought it was perfect.

"No, no- yeah, you're right." He settled. Not much else was said after that. Carmy sighed closing the cookbook he'd been perusing for the perfect cake recipe and headed home.

“Fuck, sorry Chef!” Syd winced feeling warm all over. She’d stayed behind with Luca so he could teach her a few tricks. However, in the span of just an hour she compared his cooking techniques to Carmy’s about five times. But who's counting.

“All good, Syd. I never thought about trying that! He laughed. “And relax you can call me Luca”

”Right, Luca.” She continued “I’m just feeling a little homesick. My birthday is tomorrow and I decided to stay back because you know the whole mayor hoopla.”

She was close to saying screw the mayor just so she could hop on a red eye and do something pathetic like beg her ex-boyfriend for sloppy, rough, no-strings-attached birthday sex.

He nodded sympathetically before putting down his knife, a brilliant idea on his tongue.

“How about I take you out for a drink afterwards?”

”Maybe...I’m usually so tired after work. I was talking to a few servers last week and Fay talked about wanting to go out this weekend too-”

”I mean I can take you.” He waited a beat before hesitantly adding. “Just us...”

”Oh," she cleared her throat finding it harder to look him in the eyes. "Like a date?” She raised an eyebrow.

”Yes," he chuckled. "If that’s okay with you?”

She never got used to being hit on or asked out. She grew up awkward and introverted. But something happened when she turned 20.

Like a Cinderella transformation or something. Men were falling over themselves. Women began batting their eyelashes at her and inviting her to sleepovers. She soon realized that they were flirting with her and by sleepovers they meant sex.

Her immediate thought was to turn him down. But she couldn't find a good enough reason other than it would probably hurt Carmy's feelings.

He had been dodging her phone calls though. They barely spoke these days. Maybe he's moved on. Maybe he didn't care what she did.

She eventually remembered herself and she remembered that she and Carmy were just friends. So she put on her best smile and nodded.

"I'd love that."

Later That Evening

“I got the knives you sent me." She toyed with one, balancing it on her fingertips gauging how heavy it was. "Thank you they're really fucking nice.”

“I'm happy you like them. Just something I saw and decided to pick up...” He ran a shaky hand over his mouth. "For you. F-For your birthday I mean."

He didn't know when he started feeling nervous speaking to her but it sucked. He felt like a teenager. He even found himself avoiding her calls, figuring that if they continued speaking every day and night he'd never get over her.

At this point he didn't know if he wanted to get over her or if it was a possibility.

She'd gotten under his skin. Digging her way to his fractured heart and somehow making a home out of it.

He felt like a fucking loser, blushing during a phone call. A fucking phone call.

“You saw five hundred-dollar knives just lying around and bought them?" She replied endeared.

“Well, you know how it goes." He shrugged.

Heat rushed to his face again.

Realistically he figured he was going to get them for her months ago, but telling her that felt too eager. Like he was trying too hard to impress her.

“So," She sat the knife down but couldn't stop eyeing it. The pristine set sparkled under the warm lighting in her living room. Her eyes caught her name engraved at the bottom of one of the vegetable knives. 

Warmth covered her neck and traveled up her cheeks.

''Just decided to pick them up' my ass.'

"How's The Bear been with me gone?”

“You know, we’re staying afloat. The new hires are all great. Everybody's been getting better and better. And Marcus?" He whistled. "He's doing some shit I haven't even tried."

"I'm gonna have to ask him to overnight me some donuts or something." Her phone vibrated momentarily pulling her from the conversation.

Luca (restaurant): I know we'll probably be wiped after tomorrow so I'll stop by later on around midnight? I know this great place that's open late

"Looks like Copenhagen did him well." Carmy noted.

Like an incessant alarm her conscience rudely screamed at her. She had to tell him sooner or later.

"Hey, so, speaking of Denmark, I have a um I have something to tell you..."

He waited for her to continue speaking for a bit, but her deep sigh caught his attention.

"Whats up? Everything okay?"

“It's just-" she clenched her fist over her mouth wanting to swallow her next set of words. Through gritted teeth she finally choked it out. "Me and Luca are go-going on a, going on a date tomorrow." She waited a beat. "He wanted to take me out for my birthday!" Another awkward beat. "And I thought it’d be weird for me not to tell you considering...well you know.”

He didn’t speak for a while.

"I'm sorry if that's weird but I'd feel weirder not telling you." She winced bracing herself as she awaited his response.

He blinked a few times, pulling his phone away from his ear to look at her contact photo. Yeah that was still Syd on the phone.

He felt like he was speaking with a stranger not the girl he loved. The girl who would never purposely hurt him. Her voice was muffled, like she'd been submerged in water.

Now he wanted to be as far away from his phone as possible.

"You still there?" She bit her thumbnail regretting her words.

"I am I" He cleared his throat, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. "I just didn't expect that. That's all.” His voice quieted, just above a whisper now.

"I know. Was it weird that I told you? Are things weird now?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice but it was evident.

"No, not weird." He cleared his throat in an attempt to find his voice. But when he spoke again the only thing he could muster was a hint of what his voice could be.

If Syd didn't know any better she'd think she heard heartbreak in his voice. But they were over right? They'd been over. They had to move on from each other.

Lingering wasn't healthy. No matter how romantic The Cranberries made it sound. 

Although she felt this way, she couldn't help but feel like she betrayed him. A Delilah stringing her lover along just to chop off his golden curls when he slipped into comfort. Just when he felt like he could let his guard down.

"I am a little busy so-so I have to check on that uh that," he snapped his fingers a few times. "Delivery. The delivery for tomorrow morning."

"Wait, what? I don't understand?"

"I'll touch bases with you this weekend." He didn't wait for her to answer before hanging up.

Syd found herself once again staring at her phone screen. It lit up momentarily reminding her of the unanswered text from Luca. With little reluctance she replied.

Syd: I can't wait! :)

Dinner went off without a hitch and the mayor even complement Sydney personally. By 10:00 P.M. she was on her way home and by 10:30 she sat on her couch, finger hovering over Carmy's name.

"He doesn't care Syd." He hadn't even wished her a happy birthday. "Just get ready for your date." She whispered to herself. "Maybe, I'll just send a text..."

Syd: Not to brag but the mayor said she never had a steak quite like mine

With that done she plugged her phone in the charger and began getting ready for her date. The date she was excited to go on and not at all dreading.

Every 10 minutes she'd check her phone for a response from Carmy. But nothing, he hadn't even seen the message. She huffed turning back to the mirror to pull her braids into a high ponytail.

The doorbell chimed over the radio playing oldies in her living room.

“Fuck he’s here early!” She cursed checking the time before rushing to the door only to find someone she thought she left back in Chicago.

“Carmy?”

“Hey." He strolled inside pulling his luggage behind him. His baby blues drinking her in. “You look nice.”

Keep it polite, he reminded himself. She looked more than nice, skin shiny and sparkling. Perfume pulling him closer and closer.

He cracked his knuckles, stopping himself from reaching out and touching her.

There were moments, fleeting, minuscule, when her voice would radiate from his phone. Resonating, seducing him. It made him want to reach through the receiver and feel her warmth.

He had to settle on touching himself. Then he'd feel like a creep and swear it off. It never stuck.

Now she was here, within reach, looking like that for someone else. He brushed his knuckles against his lips admiring her from a safe distance.

“Got any plans?”

She blinked a few times, hand still on the nob, door ajar. "Uh yeah, Luca is on his way.” She scoffed finally snapping out of it.

With each stride she took toward him, he felt his pulse drum faster.

“I told you that last night?”

She crossed her arms watching as he studied her. As if she were a puzzle or a Monet. He marveled almost. No one ever looked at her quite like he did.

“Right, you two are seeing each other or whatever.” He twisted his mouth instantly wanting the nasty taste of those words out his mouth.

He distracted himself by looking around her living room. His heart lurched when he came across a photo of the two of them on the morning of The Bear's official open. The entire staff took turns taking pictures together, they took several as a group but Sug just couldn’t resist getting a pic of them out front in their matching fits.

It was framed, he noted with reddening cheeks. "You got it framed.” He cooed just under a whisper.

“Of course, it's my proudest accomplishment.” His black t-shirt stretched across his back as he leaned forward to examine the picture more closely. A few strands of his hair were kissing his forehead when he faced her again.

"Proudest huh?" Something was different about him. Whatever it was evaded her. His hair wasn't in it's normal state, busy and tangled, instead his curls neatly sat upon his crown. He never really wore jewelry but now he donned a thin chain that played peak-a-boo with her wandering eyes. "Mine too."

He wasn't as jittery as he usually was. His hands were still, almost too still. This wasn't the Carmy she left in Chicago. He momentarily broke eye contact, a fleeting admission of anxiety that was gone by the time he captured her gaze again.

This was a facade she decided. There was something troubling him. Something huge that she knew he wouldn't be able to keep under wraps for long.

His tongue grazed his bottom lip, she watched it go.

She shook her head, plunging her thoughts into ice cold water.

"That's doesn't- what are you doing here?"

"Ouch" he placed a hand over his chest, leaning back as if she physically hit him. "Is it a crime to visit my friend?"

She cut her eyes at him growing increasingly more frustrated at his casualness. His gum chewing. His stupid hair that was always messy but for some reason was now perfect. And god those stupid eyes, she could excuse everything else if it wasn't for his penetrative stare.

Always calling to her. Burning up her skin, leaving her insides vibrating for minutes until she worked up the courage to will those feelings away.

"Carmen," she took a deep breath. "Please don't play with me right now. I have plans."

"Right, and you're still going?" He questioned like he was asking her for the time. "Because I really need to talk to you."

"What? I'm supposed to overlook you conveniently showing up the night I have a date?" She blew a raspberry, feeling her nerves burn up at his expression. "And stop looking at me like that!"

He maintained eye contact, trying his hardest to keep his smile at bay. He missed this.

"Okay I admit my timing isn't the best..." He trailed off shoving his hands in his pocket. "But I just needed to see you, Sydney. I need to talk to you."

"I actually have this really cool new invention called the cellphone-" she crossed the room grabbing her phone. The device flashed on as she turned around holding it up. "Would you look at that? It works! Did you forget that the phone worked both ways?"

"In person," he sighed finally dropping his facade. Apparently his sad attempt at charm was falling on deaf ears. "Can I please have a second of you time? Then I'm gone." His previous bravado had dissipated, leaving room for him to be himself. "I just need to, need you to hear me."

She shouldn't be talking to him right now. She left him in Chicago. She left all that stress and dysfunction, and this relationship behind. How did it still find her? What possessed him to chase after her?

"Luca will be here any minute, I mean after-"

"Why do you like him so much?" He cut her off, twiddling his thumbs - a pensive expression covering his face. He rubbed a finger over his eyebrow, a nervous tick. "Its like all you talk about is him. What is it? Are you fa-falling" he gulped, trying to conjure moisture in his mouth. "How serious are you two?"

"Carmen Berzatto, you took a 4 hour flight because I'm going out on one date with a guy I've known for a few months?" She shook her head. "This can't be healthy."

"I just need to know if you plan on dating this guy." He shrugged, hands palm up and outstretched. "As your friend I feel like I have an obligation. I care about you so much-"

"Cut the shit. You came here because you're jealous."

He felt the tips of his ears warm at her accusation. A very true one at that.

"I've been obsessed with you since before we even spoke to each other and I finally have the guts to have a drink with some other guy and you do this?"

“It's not just that Syd" His voice teetering on a desperate plea. Fuck if it didn't tug at her heart strings.

"Then what is it? What made you get your ass on a plane and show up at my door in the middle of the night."

He ran a hand through his hair effectively messing up the expert styling he'd done in the airport bathroom. "I-I missed you and I wanted to talk to you, and it's your birthday."

She stared at him long and hard before giving up and plopping down on her couch. "Okay. What did you want to talk about?" She checked her phone to find Luca had sent an 'On the way!' text.

"Are you thinking of moving here? Permanently, I mean." He sat on the bar stool adjacent from her, his leg shaking incessantly. "You mentioned Luca being the best cook in the world or something like that and I just wanted to know if you thought he was good enough to stay or maybe you'd want to go cook with him where ever he ends up."

She quirked her eyebrow, taking time to survey his face for any sign of humor but he was stone cold serious. That was when she surprised herself - and Carmy - with laughter.

"You're serious right now?"

"What? Why are you laughing at me?" He stopped shaking his leg. That reaction wasn't right, was it?

"I'm not..." She shook her head as she lifted up a finger. The sweet sound floated around them. Carmy shifted uncomfortably noticing how warm his face was growing. "All of this is because I said I liked his cooking?"

"No." He balked. Even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

She tilted her head to the side letting her laughter subside. She was looking at him how she used to again. With warmth and maybe even love, but he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"He's not going to replace you Carmy."

He felt embarrassed. Like these last few months in therapy were all for nothing. He didn't try any of his exercises and he overreacted. Now he felt like a possessive prick who can't get over his ex-girlfriend - who works for him.

He should probably make Sug head of HR, because their lack thereof was becoming starkly noticeable.

He should just leave. Go before she could officially cut him off. Get out of her hair for good. He didn't remember standing up but she was soon standing before him, placing a gentle hands on his shoulders.

"Stop it." She broke through his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said stop it. God I can hear your thoughts from here." She inched closer to him before running her hand from his shoulders to his clammy hands "Luca is cool and yes we have a date but I think I have something to say to you too."

He stiffened staring at their joined hands.

"Whats that?" He replied thickly. As if tears were threatening there way out of his downcast eyes.

She used two fingers to lift his head until he was looking her in the eyes.

"Carmy, I'm not going anywhere." Flashes of his vulnerable confession just before they hooked up came back to her.

She wanted to say this back then, she wanted to tell him that she didn't want their hookup to be a dead end but she felt weak for feeling that way. Like she had to prove something to herself, to the world, and to Carmy. She wanted to prove that he didn't have the upper hand. She could now see how naive that was.

"I want to be with you. L-like we were before, but healthier." She suppressed a grin but he caught it. "I have this huge, never ending, and frankly inconvenient crush on you. And I don't know man, it's gonna take a lot to get rid of me."

”I love you." It felt like the weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he'd been baptized in cool water and his vitality had been renewed. "I don’t want you to feel like I’m this brainless prick. I know I don't own you and coming here was probably the last thing you wanted but-" he grabbed both her hands. "It's you Syd. You drive me crazy."

Bright flecks of happiness peaked from within him and shined against Sydney.

"And it's you."

Those grating feelings of uncertainly that dominated his thoughts and body began seeping out, never to be felt again. He was ready to let go of the baggage that came with doubt. He hoped Syd wouldn't pick it back up.

"So, what are you saying? You want me back?" He knocked their hands together, swinging them in a childlike bout of giddiness.

"Only if you'll take me back." She confessed, remaining hopeful that they were still on the same page.

He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle keeping his eyes connected with hers.

"Are you crazy?" And that was all it took really. He let go of her hands and didn't spare a second to pull her against his chest and inhale the fruitiness of her aroma.

She smelled like a freshly cut mango on a summer day. When you'd suck at the seed and the nectar would run down your arms. You couldn't bring yourself to care because it tasted so damn good.

Her lips felt like home. She tasted like she had before. He cradled her head between his hands, devouring her. His hands traveled down to her waist pulling her flush against him.

She gasped at the movement but let him will her body to his control. She missed how he held her. She missed how his hair felt between her fingers. How he kissed her like he couldn't get enough of her. His kiss was something that never changed.

He didn't care to pull away or open his eyes when the doorbell rang. Syd felt his arms pull her impossibly closer when there was a knock.

He'd forgotten all about Luca, who was innocent in all of this, but he was having a hard time rationalizing that.

Syd was the one that pulled back causing a sound of disapproval to leave Carmy's mouth. She remained in his grasp. She wasn't sure if she could get out of it if she tried. His hands clasped her in a firm grip, like she'd slip away if he let go.

"What are you gonna do?" He questioned bracing himself for her answer. She looked from him to the door and back again.

"I'll go talk to Luca." She decided. "I'll let him know I can't come out tonight."

"Okay." He breathed, finally letting her go. He missed her softness, how had he gone so long without this.

She pecked his cheek sweetly, briefly, admiring the scattered freckles littering his neck.

“Be right back." She promised before turning to get the door.

Carmy watched as the door closed behind her. He exhaled and looked up to the ceiling and thanked whatever god was up there that coming here actually worked. 

"Woah Syd, in a hurry to go?" Luca jested backing up as Syd stepped outside. He looked down admiring her outfit choice but stopping short at her feet. More specifically her choice in shoes. "No offense but, are these house slippers?"

"Uh," she glanced down. "Yes they are. Look-" She was trying and failing at internally psyching herself up. She loved Carmy, but this still made her feel like shit. "You know Carmy right? Chef Carmen Berzatto?"

He slowly nodded and raised an eyebrow. "I think you may have mentioned him once or twice also I kind of worked with him." He chuckled teasingly. "What about him?"

"Right, you did." She winced. "He actually dropped in and I'd feel bad leaving him inside and I'm so sorry but"

"You're canceling our date." He supplied.

She nodded shamefully. "Sorry, I just - we, I mean Carmy and I- and, and you drove all the way here. I just"

"Hey, hey Sydney it's alright." He laughed, hand shooting up to stop her. "I understand. We aren't reciting vows." He laughed more so to himself this time. "Mind if I say hello?"

She hummed imaging how that could turn out. She considered them being adults and not animals but she also considered how badly she wanted to send him away and climb on top of Carmy and stay there until the sun came up.

"Sure." She welcomed him in.

Carmy paused his nervous pacing, his eyes caught Syd's as she put on her best I'm sorry face and mouthed 'Be nice'.

"Chef Berzatto!" He reached a hand out waiting for Carmy to shake it. Carmy stared at it before Syd coughed breaking him out of it and forcing him to shake Luca's hand.

"Hey man." He cleared his throat shoving his hands in his pocket. A bout of awkward silence passes through the room. "How you been? Marcus said you've made quite the name for yourself in Denmark."

"I could say the same about you." He grinned "It's been great though. But it's different here. I'm actually considering a move out here, check out a few more places. Mind if I borrow Chef Sydney though?"

Carmy didn't answer not knowing exactly how to respond without it coming out snarky or rude. So he simply didn't respond.

"Just jokes, just jokes!" He broke the tension. "Well, I just came in to say hello. See how you were getting on."

"You know how it is, Chef. There's always something." He replied plainly.

Luca nodded sensing that his presence was no longer wanted. The air was slowly being sucked out of the room. The longer he stood between Syd and Carmy the more he realized their building tension.

When he moved she moved, when she breathed he replied with his own pattern of inhale and exhale. After seeing the way Sydney looked at Carmy he wondered how he ever thought she looked at him with any hint of attraction.

"I'm gonna head out." He nodded his head towards the door. "Bye Syd, see you Saturday. Come in early so I can finally teach you how to make Chocolat au Crumble de Fraises." He closed the door behind him.

Carmy kept his eyes on the door. "Have I ever told you how annoying that guys is?" 

Syd laughed sauntering over to her cabinet to pour herself a drink.

"Shut up Luca is a cool guy."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He playfully replied following her path and grabbing himself a glass. "Hey, I'm sorry about not telling you about inviting" he cleared his throat, "yeah to-to uh dinner."

"Carmy..."

"Please, just, can I actually offer a real explanation?" He waited for her to give him the go.

After she nodded he continued

"We ran into each other, randomly, she was still a little prickly towards me. I you know, I felt so bad. She's still a friend of the family, right? And I didn't know what to say, so I invited her to dinner. I didn't stay the entire night and left before we even got to the second course." He gulped down his brown liquor. "We haven't spoken since. Promise."

She looked down at her drink. Warmth covering her face. She was thankful of her rich complexion, how it protected her from that kind of vulnerability.

"Thank you." She breathed, looking up from her nearly empty glass. "For that, you, I should've just talked to you. I shouldn't have been so mean."

“Stop it." He refilled her glass. He followed her movements as she sipped the sharp whiskey. Her lips were shiny once she pulled it back.

She shifted under his stare. Attempting to match him by watching him back. It only made the room grow warmer. She was pulsating now. Liquor had always spelled danger for her.

Thankfully he lost their unspoken competition.

"I actually forgot, one sec.” He released a deep breath, bending down to grab something out of his bag. A manila envelope.

She eyed it curiously, intrigued by what he had up his sleeve. He ran a finger over his right brow before extending it towards her.

“Here”

She took the envelope and slowly opened it. It was a contract. A contract for The Bear. Establishing her as a co-owner along with Carmy. 

“You okay?” His soft voice broke her from her daze. He ducked his head catching her watery eyes.

She blinked realizing that tears were welling in her eyes. She wiped them quickly in embarrassment.

”Fuck sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

"No, it's not, you don’t have to say anything right now." He assured. "The Bear is as much mine as it is yours. This isn’t me trying to make you stay in Chicago. I’d never do that to you, I know you want to do more than work in that shithole” he mocked. “But it’s, it's ours isn't it?  I want you to know you’ll always have a home.”

She kicked herself for letting more tears pass her lids. They were quickly wiped away as well. She shook her head skimming over it and seeing the signature line at the bottom. All she had to do was sign.

“Jesus, Carmy would’ve been easier if you asked me to marry you.” She laughs eyes still on the paper reading the header over and over again. She could own something. Something that wasn't destined to fail.

He hummed thoughtfully, “You’re right, it would be easier if I asked you to marry me.”

They let the thought linger. She gently placed the papers back on the envelop.

"Thanks again, for-for telling me about the uh dinner thing. I know we weren’t together so of really wasn't any of my business-“

"Together or not, don’t want you thinking I don’t care about your feelings.“ His words hit her deeply. How careful he always was especially with her. She pulled him into a hug, relaxing as she held onto him.

His hair smelled freshly washed and he was wearing some fancy cologne. Leaning back she took him in, more carefully this time.

”What’s got you all dressed up?” She raised an eyebrow.

He looked down at himself then back at her, “Didn’t want to ask you to be my business partner in a dingy white-tee.”

"You could’ve.“ She laughed. “But you look really nice. I like your cologne...“

"It’s the one I hate.“ He noted “Nat said I should wear it.”

"She knows you came?”

”She drew up our contract” He explained “She wants no legal obligation to that place by the end of the year.”

"Better me than her I guess." Her reply was absentminded as she trailed Carmy's body. How could someone who ate like a frat boy maintain a body like his.

"What?” He looked down self consciously.

"Have you been working out?” She always knew him to be fit but she swears his biceps were bigger than they were the last time she saw him. 

"Yeah, been hitting the gym hard since you left.” He shrugged. “Helps with stress”

”I’m sure it does.” She rips her eyes away from his arms to pour herself a heftier drink. “You look great.” The compliment slipped out of her. "You know what else helps with stress?"

Shut up Syd. SHUT UP.

"No, what is that?"

His arms rested on the counter, outstretched past her. She swayed brushing against it, stumbling back onto the bar stool behind her.

He didn't know if he wanted to look at her drawing eyes or kissable lips. His eyes darted between both as he leaned closer to her, wanting to know the secret she kept.

She should've stopped drinking one glass ago, now her filter was withering away and her sober mind was locked behind a cage guarded by her horny intoxicated mind.

Sydney's alarm made the both of them jump away from each other.

With this distraction, her sense came rushing back. They shouldn't have sex.

Not now.

She had work in the morning and everything was still so fresh. Plus she was feeling like a fucking doofus around him and she didn't know why.

Her reasoning sounded like B.S. in this moment but somewhere in her head it made sense.

"I'm- that's my alarm for bed." She chuckled, as she slid off the bar stool, temporarily swaying a bit too close to him. He followed her as she moved away, so close to kissing her but he decided against it at the last minute. "Just gonna go get ready for bed." With that she left.

Carmy watched her disappear behind her bathroom door and waited until the shower cut on to breath. He pressed his hand against the seam of his jeans, willing his hard on away.

Steam billowed out before her once she left the bathroom and padded over to her bedroom. He was looking over the Polaroids that hung above her dresser. Each memory she cherished. 

"Shit sorry." He turned around like he'd been caught red handed. "Didn't mean to intrude."

"No it's, you're fine." She pulled her towel, that she realized was entirely too short, closer. The fluffy white fabric stopped just below the curve of her ass.

He watched as a bead of water trailed over her collarbone and under the towel. She sat on her bed, fingers still tightly holding the towel around her.

"You, uh did you see the pic there at the top?"

Carmy heard her but he didn't have the capacity to respond. He was suddenly so thirsty. He missed how she tasted. He turned back around to find the photo she referred to.

Shifting, her thighs granted her temporary relief. Blood thudded inside of her.

"Holy shit is that?" He squinted his eyes trying to get a closer look at the photo. "It can't be we hadn't even met at that point." The restaurants name etched on a menu beside the dish confirmed his suspicions.

He prepared this dish during a time of devaluation and grief. He was alone and felt like he'd lost touch with his family. When really Mikey was just avoiding him. He was told it was never good enough. He was a fuck up who didn't know the first thing about cooking. He swore he'd never made it again - too many bad memories. Funny how even at the lowest point in his life, she seemed to find some good in him.

"Remember I told you I tried your cooking well before I met you."

"Yeah I remember I just," he glanced back at her, eyes dropping to her enticing thighs before darting back to the photo on the wall. "I-I didn't know you had a picture of it!" He chuckled. "Do you photograph all the food you eat?" He quirked an eyebrow, turning back to her. "Or was I special?"

He just wanted to hear her say it. He'd never ask her for anything else if she just called him special.

With each step forward an inferno blazed within her, it'd be impossible to look away now that he was so close.

She imagined this was how it felt after staring at the sun for too long. Hypnotized by its beauty. Blinded by it's ferocity. Appreciative of its life. She understood now why people worshiped the blazing ball in the sky.

He stood above her, overbearing almost. She looked up at him, trying not to shiver at his attention. She failed.

"You were special." Her voice was small. She feared speaking louder would give her away.

"Thought I was special, did you." He grinned knocking their knees together.

His mind wouldn't stop racing. He resisted his urges long enough, seeing that on her wall like it was art stirred something within him. She was always there seeing him for who he was and not who everybody wanted him to be. The depth of his feelings for her broke new ground, growing treacherous. He'd be terrified if he didn't trust her with his heart, his life. 

"I did." She replied, voice still hidden under her embarrassing desire.

"You're special too." He nudged her legs apart, moving closer. Still above her. Still staring down at her as if this were the most casual thing in the world. Beneath his depth he was anything but.

She wondered if he'd still respect her if she got on her knees right now.

If she begged for it. If she came by simply rubbing her body on his.

"You know that right?" The back of his hand grazed her cheeks. He could feel the warmth. She couldn't hide now.

She nodded, hypnotized by him, afraid to speak, fearing a feral moan would rang out.

"Can you say it for me?" He waited a second, hand now gently gripping the dip of her neck. "Say 'I'm special'."

"I-I'm special." She replied breathlessly. His eyes grew darker as he watched her squirm. She was dizzy now with desire. Seconds from dropping her towel and jumping his bones.

His hand that wasn't on her neck met her bottom lip, gently pulling it down. "Can I try something?" He left her mouth open, waiting for her reply.

She closed her mouth, gulping down the saliva that pooled there. She nodded and he smiled.

"Use your words."

She gulped down more saliva before speaking again

"Yes."

He gently tugged on her towel tossing it to the floor. She watched the tips of his ears turn red. Being fully clothed while she was on display like this was mind-boggling.

He opened his mouth to speak but his words were stuck in his throat. His stomach did back flips. He still didn't know how he landed someone so, "Beautiful." It was a whisper but she heard it.

He brought his fingers back up to her mouth but this time he gently shoved two fingers in her mouth. He stroked her tongue, being careful not to trigger her gag reflex.

Moaning drifted past her ears. She met his eyes, realizing it was her making those noises. She didn't know why but his fingers in her mouth pulled her closer and closer to the edge.

"Back up for me." He left his fingers against her tongue as she carefully backed further onto the bed. His knee nestled between her thighs as she settled on her back. "Gonna get you off, okay? Apologize for popping up like this."

She wanted to tell him there was no need to apologize but between her slowly slipping mind and his fingers against her tongue she simply nodded.

In an instant they were gone out of her mouth and circling her bud. She was so wound up, the first touch sent electricity through her. She trembled, frantically trying to control herself.

"Fuck Syd, didn't even need to do that." His fingers slipped easily into her. "You're so wet. So ready for me."

She nodded desperately, moving her hips, chasing an already building orgasm.

"So pretty. So pretty." He worried his bottom lip, watching her. What made her jerk, what made her moan, what made her eyes roll. "You're gonna make me cum in my pants." He huffs. "If you keep looking like that."

She clawed at his top, hands sliding up from under. She moaned his name, how could she be expected to form a clear sentence in that moment.

"Want me undressed too?" His soaked fingers rubbed her, applying just enough pressure. She feverishly nodded.

"Please." She managed to get something other than his name out of her mouth.

His touch was gone - she resisted the urge to throw a tantrum. She wanted him undressed after all. 

His chiseled body descended back on her. He immediately latched onto her neck. But he wasn't touching her like she wanted. Not like he was just seconds ago.

He soon noticed her vitriol and the fucker smiled.

"Relax," he continued kissing down her neck all the way down to her perky nipples. "I'll get you there, just missed this so much."

With each kiss he neared the place between her thighs.

Her mouth fell open once he latched onto her. Fingers slipping back into her.

With each come hither movement and each kiss worshiping her clit she moved closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue dancing in a firm circle pulling an orgasm out of her.

The feeling surprised her. This was different than all the other times. Her chest pounded and her thighs trembled. She gripped his curls and was pretty sure it made that fucker moan. She could feel the vibrations.

She loved him.

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyoufuckIloveyou

No one knew her like him. No one could do this to her but him. She didn't want anybody else to do this to her. With her.

He gently licked her, tongue slowly cleaning up her mess. He climbed up her body, nuzzling her neck.

"I love you too Syd."

Had she said that out loud?

He watched her come back to Earth, eyes low and hazy. He waited until she looked at him, clearly, to kiss her. She moaned when she tasted herself.

"You taste so good don't you?" He kissed her jaw. "Are you ready?"

She pulled him closer, far too weak and aroused to say anything.

He squeezed the base of his dick. He didn’t want to cum too fast, he wanted to relish in this. Savor it.

He exhaled as he pushed into her. He fit her so well. So easily. That stupid part of his brain preened at that. She was his.

He stilled once he bottomed out.

She was impatient. Feeling his throbbing head against that spot inside of her made her instinctively salivate. She canted her hips up, encouraging some sort of movement.

"Shit, you're" He buried his face in her neck as he began moving. Brutally. Slowly. As deep as he could get.

Her legs wrapped around him keeping him close. Needing him close. With each pound against her button she spiraled further and further into his spell. She felt drunk. In love. Dangerously so.

He groaned at her teeth digging into his shoulder, another orgasm echoed through her.

"Feel so good when you cum on my dick like that." He gripped the sheets, moving faster, more intentional - chasing his release. Her fitted sheets popped off of the corners of her mattress, rolling up under them.

She gripped the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. She moaned in his mouth and he swallowed it.

He was so close, losing his grip on reality. On sanity. He wanted to cum inside of her. "Wanna get you pregnant." His eyes were closed, he didn't see her reaction but she clenched around him. Her legs and arms pulled him closer like a Venus flytrap devouring its prey.

"Please" she gasped gripping him tighter. "I want it."

A noise he hadn't recognized as his voice left him, muffled against her neck. He pumped inside of her, once, twice, three times so deeply he was sure they'd have a pregnancy scare. He couldn't bring himself to care though.

After cleaning up and fixing the bed he rocked her in his arms.

"We should get a Plan B." He mentioned kissing her forehead. “Or not.”

"I have an IUD." She reminded him.

He tried to hide his disappointment.

"Aw come on ya big sap, give me a kiss."

He happily obliged.

Sydney was back home and she and Carmy's relationship was on the up and up. They were working on it and things seemed to be progressing exponentially.

"Remember when I said it'd be easier for you to just ask me to marry you?"

"I do." He looked up from the document he'd been filling out. Syd long ago tried to bring Carmy into the digital age, but he was stuck in his ways. It was endearing. "What about it?"

"Is that," she hesitates, hovering over uncharted waters. "Is marriage something you ever think about?" She sat on his desk swinging her feet, too nervous to sit still or stand like a normal person. "Not with me I mean with anybody ever."

He sat his pen down, she now had his full attention. "You're the only person I ever thought about marrying." He replied openly, his hand sliding up her thigh. When he reached her belly his fingers twisted in the softness of her shirt causing her to stir and swat his hand away with a smile. 

Now he was standing before her, between her legs, caging her in with his arms. Reminiscent of their first kiss. "And maybe even some day," he breathed into her neck, planting a wet kiss there once she leaned into him. "You can take that stupid IUD out and let me put a baby in you."

Her eyes fell closed, thinking about what it'd be like to do that. She pulled back cradling his head between her hands, stars brightening her eyes.

"Let’s focus on raising this baby first before we think about any others. Imagine how fucked up it would be." She tilted her had slightly in an attempt to be snarky or maybe sarcastic, anything to alleviate the seriousness of the moment.

"Who says we can't do both?" He replied half joking half hopeful. There goes his hands again, warming her sensitive belly. "We can try before the meeting starts." He mouthed at her neck and gripped her waist, now determined to make his dreams a reality.

She chuckled "Carmen." She gently nudged him back. "Do you know what you're saying? Do you know my dad would kill you- me- no US if we got pregnant?"

"Sydney, you know you're an adult right?" He shot her a teasing grin. "Also, I'm not saying right now or any time soon. I was joking." He placated. But they both knew he wasn't really joking all that much. "It's nice to know you're open to that sorta thing."

Syd nodded still trying to calm herself down. "I think you'd make a great dad." She replied earnestly.

She admired the pink that spread across his cheeks.

Richie knocked on the door before walking in, not waiting for a response.

"Yo, cousin when you and the wife are done with your meeting the actual team meeting has started out front."

"Shut the fuck up Richie!" He replied, no real heat behind his words. "And who started the meeting?"

"Who else?" He glanced around the room with a scoff "I did, when you two fly off to la la land I pick up the slack."

"What do you teach them? The quickest way to fuck up lunch?" Sydney fired back.

"Hey that was once!" He shouted behind him, already making his way back to the meeting.

Syd followed behind him but Carmy's hand stopped her. She spun around and he pulled her against him, kissing her breathless. He rested his forehead against hers.

"You'd really marry a fuck up like me?" He glanced behind her making sure Richie was gone.

"Carmy." She sighed leaning forward and pecking him once. "What did your therapist say about self-talk?"

"Right" He nodded. "Sorry, I'm still learning."

"Don't apologize." She kissed him again, lingering longer than before. "I wouldn't want to spend my life with anybody else."

"See! I told you they're back here making out" Richie's voice drifted through the kitchen catching their attention. The rest of the staff followed behind laughing amongst themselves.

"Chefs, are you going to show them tonight's specials or do I have to?"

[friendlyneighborhoodsynthezoid]

Pirate Batch- Echo- Part 4

(I should have edited this. Or proofread it. Or something. I didn't. Enjoy!)

Echo and the Bad Batch were dropped off by the quietest dock they could find around twilight. Phee reassured them that she’d be back to collect them in twenty-four hours.

“Or when I see something go boom,” she added to Echo before they parted ways, “so just survive until then, got it?” she slapped him cheerfully on the shoulder, but Echo was too distracted to answer her. Rex was here somewhere. Somewhere on this island where he once laughed and shared drinks and got into trouble, safe in the knowledge that he had his brothers around him. But there was no such levity anymore, and his new companions were wound tighter than if they were marching into an active battlefield.

The crew of the Havoc Marauder were kitted out well. Hunter sported his hat and oversized jacket, but concealed about his person was a pistol and a truly vicious-looking hunting knife that Echo wasn’t even going to bother asking the origin of. Wrecker was sporting a large overcoat, which he had complained about nonstop ever since Hunter had slapped it into his arms. “This is a stealth op, Wrecker,” Hunter had scolded, “and you’d stand out even if you weren’t carrying a blunderbuss under each arm. Now leave the guns or put on your damn jacket.”

Tech was dapper as always, but even he had a pistol strapped to his hip and he had a selection of suspicious-looking flasks tucked into a satchel at his side. Echo was certain by this point that anything Tech had a hand in was likely to kill, incapacitate, or just explode. The little nerd had a passion for dangerous technologies so clear that even Echo had picked up on it from their relatively few interactions.

Aaand then there was Crosshair. Echo was getting tired of the stalking aaray-shebs and his death glares, but he just had to take Hunter’s word and hope that the sniper didn’t actively wish him harm. He wouldn’t put much past him just now though, as the sheer number of pistols, daggers, blades and similarly deadly objects made it very clear that he was expecting to spill some blood. Hell, Hunter had to physically drag his rifle away from him spouting stealth and secrecy over the hissing protests of the irate sniper. Wrecker laughed at him the whole while, gleefully mocking Crosshair on his attachment to the     -apparently- precious rifle.

As for Echo himself, there wasn’t much he could wield with only one good hand, but Hunter gave him a spare blade and Tech ominously promised that they’d “work on it.” Hunter gifted him an overcoat and a hood to disguise his metal appendages, but there wasn’t much any of them could do about his hand-

“Yet,” Tech added.

Regardless, they were as prepared as they were going to get, and it hurt to think of a jaunt into Coruscant as worthy of such precautions.

Different times, he supposed.

Just another thing he badly needed to talk to Rex about.

They strode together into the streets of Lower Coruscant, where even at the late hour crowds of people hurried every which way. The misty streets were bustling, as were the various dockside bars and inns. Hunter gave them a nod and they parted ways, dissipating into the crowds. Echo didn’t love this part of the plan, but he knew that they had a better chance of tracking down Rex if they split up, and it wasn’t as if he needed a babysitter just to walk down the street…

He couldn’t see the others anymore. The crowd swept him along in a great, flooding, whirling maelstrom of bodies and noise and he could breathe, couldn’t concentrate-

No people for so long. No sounds but his own screaming. No input but pain. Now there’s too much toomuchtoomuch-

Something knocked him to the ground and his head knocked against the cobblestone street. Around him people continued to rush by in currents, unheeding, unnoticing, until something snatched him up. He struggled against the hand on the back of his coat, dragging him into an alley and forcing him down to slump against a wall. Echo drew his knife. but was too disoriented to defend himself- oh, stars-

“Breathe, Tinman,” a harsh, familiar voice rasped in his ear.

Crosshair?!

Echo gasped a breath, conscious enough to slow his breathing too something less close to hyperventilating. He raised his eyes and, true enough, he was caught in the cold grip of the Havoc Marauder’s most unsettling crew member. He felt his insides shrivel a bit as he met that steely gaze, but Crosshair did not let him look away. One bony hand caught his wrist and stayed the knife in Echo’s trembling grip. When he tried to avert his eyes, the other grabbed him by the shoulder and shook. It wasn’t a gentle shake, but it wasn’t exactly rage in the sniper’s voice when he spoke: “No, stop it. Look at me.”

Echo couldn’t find it in himself to refuse, and he once again dragged his vision back into focus. Crosshair’s sharp eyes looked furious, but also- concerned? Was that possible? Was Echo so pitiable that even Crosshair was worried about him?? He didn’t like the thought, so he shook his wrist free of his hold and- hoping he wasn’t about to get stabbed- forced iron into his voice. “I’m fine. What are you doing here anyway. Weren’t we supposed to split up?”

Surprisingly, Crosshair backed off. He leaned against the wall above Echo’s still huddled form- not quite hanging back, but not crowding him either. He didn’t look at Echo as he replied, “Yeah, well. Don’t trust you, do I? Could get up to anything, maybe go call the Corries on us.” His lip curled into a half-hearted sneer. “Better I keep an eye on you, don’t you think?”

Echo hauled himself to his feet, mouth running on automatic as he tried to regain his balance. “Careful, mate,” he said, “I might almost think you’re worried about me.” As his brain caught up with him, Echo briefly wondered if he had a death wish.

Well, actually, he didn’t want to know the answer to that, but the fact remained. Don’t poke the angry sniper.

But once again he was surprised. Instead of tearing his eyeballs out, Crosshair just scoffed and shouldered past him into the street. “C’mon then. If you want this grand reunion of yours, there’s no sense hanging around here.” With that, he was off.

Watching Crosshair move through the busy streets was fascinating. For someone who struck Echo as allergic to all humanity, he slipped through the throngs of people as easily as an eel through still water. Echo was having difficulty keeping up with him, which was not aided by having no idea where they were even going. All he could do was keep his eyes on the sniper’s back and hope they would be arriving soon. As unnerving as he was, Echo was glad to have Crosshair as a guide. He tuned out the hustle and bustle of the street and simply moved one mechanical step at a time for what felt like ages.

Eventually- maybe minutes later, maybe an eternity- Crosshair halted his progress and pulled Echo into the shelter of a doorway. The doorframe was hanging empty in a wall that looked one strong storm away from collapsing. The cracked surfaces were cast in shadows even darker than the night around them. It was as inhospitable a place as could be found in the heart of a city; a house that had been abandoned and left to fall apart under its own weight. Such houses were overlooked by the general populace, but Echo knew they always had stories and secrets to tell. Why were they stopping here?

Crosshair tapped him on the shoulder and ducked into the house. Echo followed, mindful of the unstable construction waiting above his head. He couldn’t see well in the dark interior and he turned to find his companion again. It took some searching. Crosshair vanished seamlessly into the shadowy environment and for a moment Echo feared the man had simply left him. He was just beginning to panic when he caught a glimpse of silver curls and- glowing eyes? Crosshair’s eyes were faintly glowing in the darkness, and he was moving around as if he could see perfectly well.

Weird.

Are they sure he’s not just a mean, mutant tooka?

The thought amused him enough to snort faintly, which drew the glowing eyes to him.

“Something funny, Tinman?”

“Oh, nothing,” Echo said, “just a passing thought. Say, what are we doing here exactly? Are we looking for something or did you just bring me here to kill me without your crew noticing.” Damn, there he goes again, provoking the armed and unpredictable gunman. Stop it, Echo.

“Don’t tempt me,” Crosshair growled. “We’re looking for your little friend, right? Happens I know where he lives.”

“Here?!” Echo turned away and gestured pointedly and the crumbling walls and the hazardous ceiling.

“Here.” An unfamiliar voice broke in.

There was a click and a soft rasp of breath from behind him.

The voice continued, “now why don’t you turn around nice and slow, or I’ll blow this little prick’s brains out.”

He spun around as slowly and quietly as he could manage on metal feet. Crosshair was standing in front of him, looking furious. Behind him, a man with a scar across his jaw was holding a pistol to the back of Crosshair’s skull.

Echo raised his hands- well hand and claw-hook… thing…- and spoke in his most nonthreatening voice, “No need for the threats. We’re just looking for someone. We won’t make trouble.”

“You won’t,” Crosshair muttered. He got a gun barrel jammed harder into his head in response.

“Shut up, you. We’ve got unfinished business and I’m real close to finishing it right now.” The man turned his attention back to Echo, a scar across his jaw pulling as he bared his teeth. “And what are you supposed to be? Why’re you poking around with HIM and why did he take you here?”

Echo shook his head frankly. “I have absolutely no idea how to answer any of that. I already told you we’re looking for someone.”

“Tinman needs to see your boss, Howzer,” Crosshair cut in unexpectedly, “Drop the guard dog osik so I don’t have to stab you.”

Fighting like cats and dogs, Echo mused, before catching himself. Focus, dammit!

Howzer seemed to consider this for a moment before appearing to reach some decision. Abruptly, he drew back his hand and clubbed Crosshair hard over the head with the butt of his gun. The sniper dropped like a stone and Echo’s extremely rusty, hard earned combat instincts screamed instructions at him. Unfortunately, before he could react, there was a swish and a thud and the world went dark.

__

Echo awoke.

Where was he? Was he back there again? Had it all been a dream after all?

CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409- CT-1409-

“Hey.”

He was brought back to awareness with all the suddenness of being dumped in the sea. The man with the scar- Howzer? A hand waved in front of his face.

“Cool it, vod. We won’t hurt you.” He raised his voice to someone across the space. “Hey, Fireball! Come see to our guest a minute.”

Soon, Howzer was gone, and a new person was in his place. He smiled at Echo and said, “Hi, I’m called Fireball. You hungry?”

Echo’s mind was catching up to the situation at last, and he grudgingly accepted the bowl of something that was pushed towards him. He sniffed it cautiously.

Fireball chuckled. “It’s not poisoned, I swear. I have too much respect for food to sully it with tricks.”

Well, to hell with it. Echo tried some stew. It was good- except that it seemed to be burning his tongue inside his mouth. He must have made a face, because Fireball laughed and passed him a cup of water.

Echo’s eyes scanned his surroundings. It appeared to be a cellar of some kind, expanded and connected to tunnels in three walls. Wooden support pillars dotted the space intermittently. It looked like a perfect place to stay hidden from, say, an Empire. Speaking of staying hidden… “Where’s Crosshair.”

“Oh now, he thinks to ask,” the familiar rasp answered him. Echo looked up. On the far side of the room, a support pillar stood. It had ropes tied around it, and Echo hadn’t thought twice about it on his cursory sweep of the room. Now he studied it more carefully, he could vaguely make out the skinny silhouette of the sniper, half obscured by the angle and the pillar itself.

Howzer was standing nearby too, now Echo came to notice it. The man strode over to the sniper and brandished a fist at him. Undeterred, Crosshair continued, “Oh, sure, I get the ‘scary revolutionary’ routine while Echo gets food. Very fai- ugh!”

“Shut up, you.” Howzer said again.

Echo turned to Fireball in confusion. The man gave him an uneasy smile and explained, “We know Crosshair well enough to know to keep an eye on him. Hence why he’s tied to a pole and you’re not. Howzer…” He nodded towards the person in question, “Howzer hates him. We don’t know why, exactly, but it’s not like him to be this aggressive. Even if Crosshair is a skulking, nosy little thief who stumbles into every single one of our secure locations.”

“Has he ever sold you out?” Echo asked.

“No, actually. Which is weird. He knows too many of our secrets that really, we should have taken care of him by now, but he’s still around and we’re not dead yet. Guess he isn’t out to get us caught, just to be a skulking, nosy little thief. Even Rex has started to just get used to him.”

“Rex? Is he your leader? We really do need to talk to him.”

“Don’t worry, he should be here soon.” With that, Fireball stood up, leaving Echo alone and unobserved in the corner of the room, listening to Crosshair and Howzer exchange remarks and insults and occasional blows.

Crosshair, who had never said more than one complete sentence to Echo, apparently didn’t know how to shut his mouth. Maybe he only spoke when it was to antagonize other. Echo could see that being the case. Regardless, he hoped the sniper wasn’t going to land himself- or Echo- in too much trouble by keeping with his current attitude. He certainly seemed determined to needle Howzer -and kick at him when he stepped into range- until the other man hit back.

_

Not too much time passed before footsteps were heard down one of the wall passages. Three sets, by the sound of it. Before long a trio of figure emerged. All three were wearing hoods and cloaks that obscured almost every inch of them. They marched into the cellar and were met by Howzer, snapping a quick salute.

“Sir, he’s back.” Howzer said.

The lead figure looked passed Howzer towards Crosshair. He spoke, a bit muffled, and inclined his head, “Mir’sheb”

Crosshair smirked and returned the greeting. “Mirsh’kyramud.”

“Don’t break my second in command,” he warned Crosshair sternly. “I don’t want to send you back to Hunter in a box.” And that was apparently that. Howzer was clearly still seething, but the lead figure was clearly uninterested in the presence of the sniper. They talked indistinctly among themselves for a few moments longer, until Fireball came up to join them.

“There’s another thing, Sir.” Fireball said. He guided the leader towards Echo’s corner. “We picked up someone else in the house front. Someone who was looking for you specifically.”

They stopped in front of Echo. The leader pulled off his hood and mask, revealing a stern face and buzzed blond hair. Something in Echo’s brain sparked.

“Rex? Is that- is that you?” His words were suddenly not working properly, but he couldn’t stop himself as he stuttered on. “It’s- I’m- do you know who I am?”

Rex’s eyes were wide, and he sank to one knee and stared into Echo’s face. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

“Echo?!”

____

Mando’a words (Mando’a.org)

aaray-shebs: pain in the butt

osik: crap

vod: brother

Mir’sheb: smart-ass

Mirsh’kyramud: boring person. Lit. “brain assassin”

[jimblejamblewritings]

Flowers as Pure as Blood | part one.

Summary: The Riddles. An oddly charming family despite their husband/father being the most feared evil wizard in the world. But what happens when the youngest daughter is taken captive by Aurors to try and get information on Voldemort's plans.

Warnings for the Series: talks of torture, violence.

Pairing: some marauders x reader (pairing not decided yet)

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year and that this is yet again another fic... I have no words, my bad. I do intend to finish every fic though so don't worry!

No one could say that the emergency Order meeting was exactly a surprise. Nowadays, it felt like most of their meetings were unscheduled. Their wands heated up more than ever in their hands or back pockets. Who knew what it was this time. When fighting a war where a good chunk of the population secretly felt the way their enemy did, it wasn’t exactly easy.

While they didn’t agree with Voldemort killing muggles and muggleborns, there was a reason he got so far. People turned their cheeks and ignored the bad side because overall they agreed with him. And changing the minds of the complacent wasn’t easy. 

But the tables were about to turn. Or so they hoped. For a few years now, Voldemort has gotten bolder. It wasn’t just Britain worrying anymore. It was the entire wizarding world. Rumors spread that he was looking for something. Some people said that his wife went insane from a battle with Aurors and that’s why Tatienne Riddle stays in the house despite being a free woman having not yet committed a crime — although others think she was sent back to her home country of France in order to be safe. 

Some people say that he has another child and after the death of his second daughter all the others were sent away and now he’s checking up on them constantly. Some think he’s searching for a way to break Grindelwald out of prison. Others have heard rumors of horcruxes, dark artifacts, the elder wand, a deal with dementors.   

The Order didn’t really care what the reasons were. They just cared that they were being dragged into a larger mess. The ministries of magic in different countries were having meetings with each other, trying to coordinate. It was harder than they thought. Way before even the Salem Witch Trials, all of the wizarding community used to be together under a single government. But then they started retreating within muggle borders and lots of red tape and rules appeared. But soon, once they work together, the Order and aurors would be meeting a lot of new people. They’d still be in small units for stealth but they’d have more numbers overall. 

Sirius smiled at the photo of the Order hanging in his foyer, right by the front door. He didn’t really need to greet anyone since he knew them all but he chose to anyway. He was greeted by almost everyone. Moody hung up his coat on the rack as he spoke. 

“Dumbledore will be here in an hour or so.” 

“Oh, good. Kreacher’s almost finished with cooking. Moony, did you stop by the store?” 

“Yep.” Remus held up the bottles of wine. 

Sirius moved back to Grimmauld at the start of seventh year when his parents died, not that he cared. But Regulus was still underage. Their relationship was rocky for the first few months but now they were fine. And it wasn’t just them. It was the Marauders and their friends. Potter Manor and flats around London just weren’t smart anymore. 

They all sat down at the table in the dining room. It would’ve been nice if they didn’t have business to talk about. But at least they could do it over a nice and hearty lunch. 

Upstairs you could hear the sudden thud of various footsteps landing on the floor upstairs, followed by an entire conversation that you didn’t care about. You weren’t sure why the Aurors had allowed you to hear what was happening wherever you were. Maybe it was another form of torture. You could hear them and they could pretend that you never existed. But it was horrible to hear them all the time. Especially when they were having whatever special alone time they had when everyone else left the house. It was horrible when you just wanted to sleep. 

Like now, it was time for your afternoon nap. You should have showered off the blood from your morning torture but you couldn’t be bothered. They’d come again at night so it was better to just wash everything off at once. Nowadays, you slept three times a day and were given your meals only once. But you couldn’t sleep with the noise above you. So you moved to your little writing desk. If you ever got to see them again, you would have to thank the Dumbledores for getting you better conditions than last time. Your cell was the same size as last time but with weirder walls — these ones were rough stone like the walls of a cave. But you had a toilet and a shower and a sink, albeit only behind a thin white curtain. 

And you had a lamp instead of total darkness. It wasn’t very bright but it allowed you to write and read. Dumbledore required that they let you keep your things you acquired from your time at his brother and nephew’s house. That didn’t stop them from raiding your things all the time under the guise of just checking. You had a small writing desk and a chair, no bookshelves. And your bed was just a bunch of blankets and duvets piled up on the floor. 

You looked over at your food tray as your stomach grumbled. The Aurors technically gave you all three meals — no snacks — but they were given all at once in the morning and you had to ration it out. The choice was always when to let yourself starve as there was only enough food for two proper meals on lucky days. Sometimes it was only one good meal a day. Deciding to starve for lunch, you only grabbed your small cup of mashed potatoes meant for dinner and scarfed it down. It was humiliating that the Aurors forgot a spoon and forced you to eat with your mouth and hands. 

As you set your cup down, you paused. The wooden spoon you and the guard who brought your food thought was forgotten was there all along. Stuck in the doorway. The door was open slightly which meant the barrier surrounding your cell was broken or at least weakened. You could escape. For years, you had contemplated your escape but every idea seemed implausible. 

You opened the door all the way, knowing everyone else was distracted upstairs. In case someone would be alerted, you didn’t want to test the barrier’s ability to hold you back. Even if it was already broken, you wanted to be sure. There was a secret that even Albus Dumbledore didn’t know about. Credence thought that even if he told his father someone might look into Aberforth and Albus’ minds and then they would know. And if the Ministry found out that Tom Riddle’s daughter was an Obscurial then the Aurors would’ve gotten their way completely and you would probably be dead or tortured even worse than you already were. 

Most importantly, Credence told you not to use the power in front of everyone. He had spent his lifetime figuring out how to channel an Obscurus’ power. It never really went away once you became an Obscurial. It was only something you could live with if you learned how to be a proper witch or wizard. And Credence suspected you two weren’t the only two Obscurials to have control but that no one who actually learned to live with their sickness would ever reveal to anyone. Not with the current lack of protection for you guys. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“I’m an Obscurial,” you said as you set down your tea. 

Credence looked up from his book like you had just burned him. How could you ruin a perfectly good Saturday with that news. He took his wand from off the side table and casted a silencing spell over the entire house. 

“What did you say?” 

“I’m an Obscurial.” 

“How? I’ve seen the report. They had to let you practice so you wouldn’t become one and escape.” 

“I did it on purpose.” 

Credence swallowed. He understood you. A life as a dangerous Obscurial with a limited lifespan was better than what you had endured. Maybe you would have learned to control it like he did. From that morning on, Credence vowed to help you control and hopefully get rid of the Obscurial. He was so close to being fully cured himself. It was only right to help you achieve the same. 

Light glowed and shot all up and down your arms, looking like the same light beams that come from wands. It shot out from you and hit where the barrier should be. Nothing. You were actually free. A chill went up your spine. You didn’t want to rush and risk everything. Instead, you went back to your cell and laid down. 

You stuffed your face with the cake that was supposed to be dessert after dinner and laid down on the pile of blankets. If no one came in thirty minutes then you’d leave. While you laid down, you thought about what you would do once you escaped. Go back home. Even if you didn’t agree with your father, you would still go home. Did they still live in Riddle Cottage? 

The flowers in the garden of Riddle Cottage were still alive despite it being August and a heat wave in Britain. The  tulips, snapdragons, and bloodroots were still vibrant and colorful next to the actual summer flowers of dahlias, poppies, daisies, and lavender. You were picking a bunch of plants, wanting to make a bouquet for your parents. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Bird,” you said to a hummingbird. “Can you find a different lavender plant? I need this one… thank you!”

“Y/N, the Malfoys are here!” 

You turned around to see your mother, another woman, and a boy four years older than you standing in the doorway of the house. You grabbed a few more flowers before going back to the house. Smiling at your guests, you handed them a few of the flowers before giving some more to your mom. 

“Did you pick the rest of these flowers for your father?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then let’s make a pretty bouquet and then we can go.”

Tatienne Riddle led everyone inside. The Malfoys didn’t mind the wait, stating that Diagon Alley wasn’t closing anytime soon. It was eight in the morning. Your mom arranged the flowers into a bouquet and set them in a vase, handing the ceramic to you to hold. You followed her through the cottage until you reached your father’s study. 

Lord Voldemort heard a small and high-pitched voice call out ‘Daddy’ before the door opened. He smiled as his wife and youngest child came into the room. You made a gagging noise as they kissed, much to their laughter. Ignoring them, you took his wand and tried to float over the vase. It wasn’t terribly high or terribly stable but it made it over. 

“What’s this?” he asked. 

“Someone picked flowers in the garden for us, Tom. Oh, honey, watch out. It’s on the edge of the desk.” 

“Do you need help?” 

You nodded and your dad pulled the vase away from the very edge of the desk, pretending you floated it all the way over. Tatienne let him know that you were about to leave with the Malfoys to meet your siblings at Diagon Alley. He made sure that you guys had everything you needed before you left. 

“Ah! Where’s my goodbye?” 

You ran back into the room, giving him a hug and a kiss. 

Diagon Alley was more exciting today than every other day. It was finally your turn to go to Hogwarts. You didn’t receive a letter — people didn’t really know if you existed or not — but you would just show up with your siblings and be given a spot. Everyone knew of your siblings, two brothers and two sisters. They were popular in Hogwarts. Of course they were. Lord Voldemort’s children would be well known. They were also known because they weren’t scary. Students didn’t know whether to like them or not. They couldn’t tell if it was a trick or not. 

It was very much real. You guys were meant to have normal lives as children. But also, your father didn’t care one way or another for the killing. He only needed people at the top of government to die. Not everyone else. He wanted you guys to be nice and make friends with every blood of wizard in hopes they would willingly listen to him. 

Diagon Alley was still busy even early in the morning. You all walked into Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour where your siblings were sitting in a booth with their friends eating ice cream. They pointed to the ice cream cone holders for all of you. You took the cone of early gray and lavender. Your second brother — the next youngest — snorted as he got out of the booth. 

“Who are you dressed up for, Luci?” Arnaud asked. 

The other kids all laughed as Lucius and NAarcissa turned red in the face. Everyone knew they liked each other but were too afraid to say anything. Your oldest brother and the eldest sibling — by two minutes of his twin sister — bent down so you could get on his back. Your rather large group walked around Diagon Alley collecting supplies. Ollivander’s was the very last stop on the list since it was your big day as the only first year amongst the kids. 

“Belrose, you or Odile take Y/N/N to the bathroom. We’ll be at the Menagerie,” Salazar said as he set you down from his back after you wiggled around enough to annoy him. 

“I don’t have to pee,” you whined. “I’m hungry.” 

“Okay, Stinky,” your sister said as she grabbed you. “Let’s go to the bathroom right here and we’ll all go to the Leaky Cauldron.” 

“I’m not stinky.” 

“I know, Stink. Let’s go.” 

You did actually have to go to the bathroom, only realizing it after getting off of your brother. When you made it to the Leaky Cauldron, no one had gotten their food yet. As an eleven year old, your food order was very predictable and they went ahead and ordered for you. The streets outside were getting quieter as everyone was piling into restaurants to try and beat the lunch rush. You wiggled your fingers as the plate of fries and chicken skewers put in front of you. 

You wished your dad was with you guys but you understood. Having committed no crimes, not even harboring a fugitive since you live with Voldemort not the other way around, you and your family could go outside. All minus your father. It was the reason he never allowed Tatienne to become a true Death Eater so she could take you guys out. Of course, she wore her Dark Mark proudly. You and your siblings weren’t required to get the tattoo but Salazar was considering it. 

Belrose looked up from her wild rice soup. “No one is in here.” 

“Huh?” Tatienne and Mrs. Malfoy looked around the entire pub. “Children, leave Diagon Alley. Now.” 

Lucius scooped you up and you all started to run. Narcissa, being the first one to reach the door, screamed as a beam of light hit the threshold. You were dropped as everyone else started shouting spells. The windows were shattering as spells hit them. Tears streamed down your face as you saw the Aurors in person. 

“There she is.” 

You heard one of them say. Hands grabbed you and you tried to beat down on them but they wouldn’t let you go. You felt like your lungs would cave in from how hard you were screaming without taking a breath. Belrose and Arnaud squeezed on the necklaces each child was given right before they got on the train to Hogwarts, alerting your father that you all were in danger. 

“Let go of my daughter! Stupefy!” Tatienne yelled. 

“Alarte Ascendare.” 

“Carpe Retractum!” 

“Locomotor Mortis!” 

“Avada Kedavra!” 

“Crucio!” 

“MAMAN!” 

You and your siblings all yelled as your mother dropped to the floor of the destroyed pub. All the spells your siblings threw were worthless. You and the rest of the Aurors were already gone, along with everyone else that fled Diagon Alley when the spells started flying. 

It had been thirty minutes and no one had come by but you had earned a nosebleed. You stood up, grabbing your most important books and stuffing them in a blanket-turned-backpack. Without shoes on, your feet were silent. The ground beneath them was a mixture of hard dirt and stone. The lights in the hallway were just as dim as the lamp in your room. You figured that there couldn’t be much space under a house in the city to hide you so going straight was probably the right idea. It felt like forever before you reached the stone staircase. 

There was so much light when you slightly opened the door that led into the upper floor. You had to squint, eyes practically burning at how bright it was. Delicately, your fingers touched the green floral wallpaper. A bit of blood dripped onto the floor as you continued down the hallway. You could hear them talking in the dining room still. It wouldn’t be a problem if you swiped some food first. The kitchen was right there in the front. 

You were practically drooling at the sight of food. Sneaking in, you plucked a few meatballs from their baking tray and shoved them into your mouth. It’s not like you cared about taking their stuff. They deserved more than that. Your sticky fingers took the chocolate tart with you and made your way to the front door. 

Setting down your things, you looked at the lock to see if you could get out. It had a key. There was no way you could search the house for a key. You would just have to search downstairs. Quietly, you crept past the closed dining room door. The living room was scattered with trinkets and furniture amongst other things. Nothing immediately stood out as a key. You’d have to look around. 

“What’s that noise?” Remus asked, no longer focusing on the meeting in front of him. 

“Hmm?” Only Sirius and Peter asked. 

“Do you hear that?” 

They listened in, trying to ignore everyone’s conversations. Remus could hear it better than the other two but faintly they heard knocking about. Sirius stood up, letting them know he’d check alone. Standing up from the table, he tried to be nonchalant as he grabbed his wand and adjusted his clothes. 

“Are the tarts done, Padfoot? Do you need help?” 

“No, I’m just going to the toilet.” 

“Okay.” 

The rest of the marauders knew James got the message. If one of them ever said toilet instead of bathroom then they’d know to keep anyone from following the person. Taking the route through the kitchen, he began his search. He paused at the blood in the middle of the room. His head tilted as he saw more blood on his hardwood floor and staining the wool hallway runner in the foyer. He followed the stains going into the living room. All he could do was look on in shock as you searched through shelves. 

Sirius was confused. Where did you come from? Why did you have no shoes on? Why did you and your thin dress look pristine but you had cuts everywhere? Maybe against his better judgment, he pocketed his wand. You clearly seem like you’re in distress rather than a threat. 

You heard the sound of footsteps muffled on the carpet. Turning ever so slowly, you went wide-eyed at seeing an Auror that you’ve never seen before. He put a finger up to his lips while taking out his wand and setting it on the floor. Was he trying to help? He must not have been an Auror then. 

“Sirius!” You both looked at the closed door where a male’s voice spoke. “Can he hear me? Sirius wher—” 

You ran towards the front door, key be damned, and wiggled the doorknob as hard as you could. 

“Help! Help!” you began to yell while banging on the door, hoping someone on the other side might hear you. 

That drew the attention of everyone else. Remus, James, and Peter didn’t even try to stop anyone from going. A very hoarse sounding voice yelling through the house didn’t seem like a safe situation. You kept trying to throw your body against the door as you heard more footsteps, your voice getting more hoarse by the second. Sirius stopped them from going any further. 

“Heeeeeellllllllp!” You were crying as you kept slamming your hands against the door. “Help… Please…H…” 

Your voice gave out. You kept trying to slam on the door despite that, not wanting to be taken back downstairs. The doorknob wouldn’t even budge as you tried to kick at it. Sirius flinched when you fell down after the fourth kick. You just laid there, crying and staining the carpet with blood. 

“Shit.” 

Everyone turned to look at Moody. Sirius cocked an eyebrow. 

“Do you know her?” 

Moody sighed. His answer was cut short by Dumbledore apparating into the foyer. He tilted his head looking at everyone piled into the narrow walk space before turning. A gasp escaped his lips. 

“Y/N?” 

“Who?” 

“Y/N Riddle,” Alastor finally got out. 

You closed your eyes and accepted your fate again, sticking your arms straight up in the air. You didn’t even flinch when hands grabbed you by the fabric of your dress and lifted you up. The others watched as Moody arrested you, unsure about their feelings as they watched you shake your head with your eyes still closed. 

“Should have known you’d try to escape.” 

“Let her go, Alastor!” 

Dumbledore, Aberforth, and Credence apparated into Grimmauld. All of their wands were pointed at the Auror. Albus just shook his head as he extended a hand. Reluctantly, Moody gave you over. 

“You’ve broken the rules of the warrant, Alastor. We will be taking her back now.” 

“No.” 

Credence pushed you behind him. “Y/N? Why don’t you with the others?" 

You barely whispered out the word okay when you and the others went into the dining room. From the kitchen you could hear a very loud argument.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie

[yeeyeeclan]

Y'all gotta double dose o' Pic for a bit! Hope y'all don't mind.

Here's Miss Ironside - pretty as'a picture n' feisty as fire! Most o' her scars are covered by her enormous coat, so you betcha' horses she's leavin' a bit of herself everywhere she goes.

Her jaw ain't just for snarky comments - she's got some real stealth n' hunting skills on her belt! Almos' always finds some way t' find and get some prey durin' a hunt. Even with her sass, her mate Longhorn loves her to death, and they have two lil' kiddos together - Dustkit an' Songkit!

- 🐦‍⬛

[lynaferns]

Had a weird dream last night where I was playing this game that was kind of a walking sim mixed with a platformer (I think the name of it was "IM4"). I was just walking and jumping around this HUGE building that was pretty empty. There wasn't really any plot to it, but there were characters scattered around that if you found them, you'd get information on their stories.

At one point I found a room that had a bunch of either stained glass art or paintings that showed all the characters that could be interacted with. Some of the art was blocked by colorful bricks (some were a single color, others a mix of multiple colors). There were also a few that were scribbled out with spraypaint.

Most of the characters were ones just made up by my dream subconscious, but I do remember that Sun was in one of the pictures. I think Dogday and Catnap from Poppy Playtime were in the pictures right next to him (Catnap's was scribbled out in red). Funnily enough, I'm not really all that into Poppy Playtime lol.

Anyway, I went off to try and find Sun to figure out what story was in this game. I think I ended up finding him? But after I went back to the room with all the artwork. He ended up popping out of his picture, but only his torso (which was connected to a metal rod). He talked to me for a moment before something started to pull him back into the picture he came from. Pretty sure he started yelling "No!" and "Help!" or something like that before he was fully pulled back inside.

The art had turned into a dark red hallway after that.

After that I decided to look around the room a bit more. I figured if there was a Sun picture, there had to have been a Moon one, too. I did find it after a bit. When I got close to it, I heard Moon's laugh. The image itself was...kind of silly to be honest. It was Moon dressed in a long navy-blue double button coat wearing a breton hat (had to look the name up) if the same color that covered his eyes. 90% sure he also had on a fake beard. The whole look had a sort of nautical vibe to it. He was also holding a small doll or plush of himself (normally) that was wrapped in a blanket (I forget what color it was).

I then set off down a path that was more stealth-based. There were people patrolling around with flashlights, all of which looked exactly the same. The lights in the halls were all on, but the guards couldn't see anywhere that their flashlights weren't shining.

I did get chased by a few, which ended up resetting my progress, even though they didn't actually catch me?

I eventually made it through that segment and ended up in this room that was kind of like an auditorium of sorts with multiple levels of seating areas. It was mostly empty aside from a young man, an elderly woman, and some people who I assumed were the man's employees. They were rearranging the room a bit. The man said it was to prepare for the arrival of the Daycare Attendant (that was the title he used to address them). Sadly, I woke up not long after I got there.

Now that I think about it, Sun really got a Luigi-style subplot.

Sun knew too much and was scooped back to the picture. he was put on time out corridor 😔

Idk why, it doesn't have to do with anything in the dream, but I first imagined Moon like sans Undertale.

Also the whole thing made me remember a game, I don't remember the name of it but the MC was called ib I think, and there was something about keeping a red rose with all its petals or she would die, other characters had their own rose that worked the same way too. I think they were in a haunted museum or something.

[psychotic4ghost]

Hide and Seek

A/n: I've got a little treat for my lovie's who love Mykie and Simon. Also, a huge thanks to those who have been showing the upmost support for Mykie and Simon. I think Mykie has been my most favorite OC to write in the years I have been writing (fanfics and my own works) Thanks a ton, love y'all <3

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI , mild primal/hunter, oral (male receiving)

“I’ll count too 20, think you can find a hiding spot by then?” Mykie asked. Her and Simon were on leave for a few weeks and they were supplied with a small house in the countryside for the time being. 

“Easy.” Simon staired daggers into her. He didn’t have any of his many masks on at the time. He felt safe enough to keep it off when it was just the two of them. 

“Alright, I’m gonna start counting, Si. Go!” Mykie shouted as she shoved her face into the pillow on the couch in front of her. 

“1!” 

Simons took off down the hall, his lack of shoes made it just that much easier for him to sneak. 

“2!”

He slowly creaked the door to the laundry room open. 

“3!” 

He attempted to hide behind some coats but he couldn’t fit.

“3!”

He slowly closed the laundry door and headed to the bathroom inside the master bedroom.

“4!” 

He wouldn’t fit anywhere there either.

“5!” 

Simon looked around for a moment then something clicked. She never said he couldn't be outside. She said he had to stay within 2 feet of the house if he did go outside, giving him a very narrow space to hide in.

“6!”

He slowly slid the bathroom window open and slipped outside. He rested his feet on the window seal. 

“7!” 

Using his feet, he shut the window as he hoisted himself onto the roof. He couldn’t hear her counting anymore. But he had to stay absolutely silent. One wrong shift and the roof tiles could shift making noise she would surely hear. They were both highly trained in stealth and tracking, making hide and go seek all the more fun. 

Simon dragged his body to a vent that sat over the kitchen so he could listen. She was on ‘15’ now. She would come looking any second now. 

“Ready or not, here I come, Ghost!” She shouted followed by one of the childish giggles Simon loved so much. He laid flat, waiting. 

Mykie pulled herself off the couch and began her search. Nowhere could be ruled out, not with their training, he could be anywhere. She checked behind doors, on top of things, and everywhere else she could think of in the small living room. The kitchen hardly had anywhere a man his size could hide so she skipped it. She made her way down the short hallway, she checked the hall closet, not there. The laundry room was empty too. She checked the master bedroom, under the bed, in the closet, on top of the wardrobe, he was nowhere to be found. 

Before even thinking about the bathroom, she headed back down the hall to the one office the house had, there was no furniture other than a desk and chair, she checked behind the door. He wouldn’t never pick something so easy. She chuckled and shut the door behind her. Mykie scratched her head a few times before heading back to the master room to check the bathroom. Nothing, he wouldn’t fit in there. 

Absolutely puzzled, she headed out the front door. Keeping her rule in mind, she wandered about the perimeter. The small shed was off limits since it was a good 20 feet from the house. But she checked anyway. Simon could hear her bare feet shuffle against the rocks as she made her way to the shed, he would be in sight now if she looked at the roof. The roof was angled but not enough for him to hide out of view. 

He wasn’t in the shed. With a short sigh, she came back towards the house. She watched her feet as she walked when she decided to look up for a split second. A small smile crept onto her lips, she found him. It could have been a random object on the roof, but she saw a tuft of gray, his sweatpants. 

Mykie came back around to the front of the house, she pulled a chair up so she could reach the roof tiles. She popped her head up so she could see onto the roof, “Found you.” She grinned. 

“You know what this means right?” He asked as he pushed his weight up with just his arms, he came to a kneel and crawled off the roof. Mykie hopped off the chair and to his side. 

“It’s my turn.” Mykie had a devilish smirk. This was where it got fun. Her size was the ultimate advantage. She was the undefeated champion on hide and seek in the entire 141. 

“Let’s make this more fun,  miss undefeated. If I find you,” He leaned against the side of the house, trapping Mykie under his gaze. “I get to have my way with you.” 

“You’ll have to find me first.” Mykie spat, her grin never faltering. 

“Is that a deal?” 

“Deal.” Mykie stuck her hand, opened palmed, in front of her. 

Simon shook her hand, but after gripping her hand, he pulled her closer to him, stealing her lips into a quick, but hot kiss. “Run.” Simon growled. He placed his arm against the side of the house and buried his head in it. “1.” 

Mykie took off, she left the front door open so he wouldn’t hear it shut. She was light on her feet as she ran through the house. More couldn’t hold still as she bounced around trying to find a spot. The house they were in was old. The floorboards creaked sometimes and the outside elements always found a way inside. 

She knew where she wanted to hide. She ran to the laundry room as quickly as she could. She opened one of the cupboards on the bottom of the built in. Inside, the small back panel to the cupboard was removable, she found this out while doing laundry one day and the board fell forward.

 Mykie climbed inside the cupboard, contorting her body to fit in the small space. If she had to guess, the cupboard was about 4 feet tall and 3 feet wide. She wiggled her way in then replaced the back panel. Now all she could do was wait. She couldn’t think of a reason why Simon would know about this spot. Not unless he happened to be doing laundry too, but she was the only one who had since they got there. 

His count ended. She could hear him come inside and shut the door behind him. Simon's footsteps were heavy around the house as he hunted for her. She could hear him open the office door and close it. He came to the laundry room door. He knew she was smaller and could fit in smaller places than he could. He opened the cupboard above her, she could hear him shuffling some stuff. Simon closed it and opened the one she was in. Mykie could just barely see through a crack, the vision she was granted was fuzzy and she could only see his silhouette. It looked as if he had made eye contact with her but there was no way. He shut the cupboard door and left the laundry room after checking inside the washer and the drier. 

She could hear him rummage through the bedroom and then the bathroom that shared a wall with the laundry room. 

The house was silent. Too silent. She listened hard. Mykie heard a soft creak but she couldn’t tell where it came from. Just as she placed her ear on the panel, it was quickly ripped from in front of her. “Found you.” Simon practically growled. 

“H-how?!” Mykie exasperated as she pulled herself out of the cupboard using Simon’s hand as leverage. 

“When I looked in here first, the board looked slightly off.” 

“Why didn’t you remove it the first time?” Mykie questioned as she came to her feet. 

“I wanted to give you more time to sit with yourself. I know me hunting you turns you on, lovie.” Simon pushed against Mykie, pinning her to the wall behind her. 

“I-I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant. When he almost found her, she could feel the heat rise in her lower abdomen. 

“Is that so?” Simon crashed his lips into hers. He wanted her, he craved her. “Up, jump up.” Simon ordered as he placed his hands under her thighs. She did as she was told, doing a small hop as Simonn lifted her up and wrapped her around his waist. He pulled her away from the wall and carried her to the small master room. Simon tossed her on the bed with enough force to pull a breathy giggle from her.

He fell forward, catching his weight on his elbows that nested on either side of her head. “I broke your win streak. I think I deserve an award for that, yeah?” Simon chuckled in her ear before he planted hot, wet kisses along her jawline. Her back arched at the sensation. 

Simon could feel the cool silicon of her prosthetic fingers against the nape of his neck as she gripped his hair. Her flesh hand roamed up his arm, gripping tightly around his muscles, at the least the best she could, her hands were tiny compared to his biceps. 

“What do you want your reward to be, Simon?” She asked, panting for breath as he continued his kisses down her neck and to her collar bone. 

“I wanna abuse that pretty little throat of yours, lovie.” Simon growled as he quickly stood to his full height. He gripped her shoulders and ushered her to turn so her neck was resting on the edge of the bed. 

Mykie let out a soft whimper, she knew this position meant her throat would be sore for the next few hours after. He loved watching himself budge in her throat as she took all of him. 

Mykie hung her head off the bed, her hands reached out, attempting to pull his sweats down. Simon guided her hands to his waist line and helped her tug them down. He kicked them to the side. Before she could get to his boxers, he kneeled down and planted a warm, and hungry kiss to her lips. He stood up once more and tugged his boxers down off his hips. His already hard cock sprang free. Mykie quickly reached for him, eagerly wanting to please him. 

Simon let out a deep chuckle as he lined the tip of with her lips, she planted a few feather light kisses to the tip before extending her tongue out, gently licking the tip, teasing him. He let out a groan as he pushed his hips towards her. “Open. Now.” 

“Yes Lieutenant.” Mykie grined, she knew what calling him lieutenant could do to the man. She parted her lips and opened her mouth. She stuck her tongue, inviting him in. He didn’t hesitate pushing his cock into her open mouth. He set a slow pace, one where she could breath just enough and use her tongue. She swirled her tongue around his shaft as she slowly thrusted in and out. He was definitely above average, bigger than most could take comfortably. He knew this too, as much as he wanted to fuck her mouth and use her like a toy, he knew he had to take it slow at first. 

Mykie tapped his thigh once, meaning she had adjusted. Two taps meant he needed to slow down, and three meant he needed to pull out. Repeated taps meant she couldn’t breath and needed to abort quickly. 

Simon let out an animalist growl as he pushed as far as he could into her throat. He wasted no time using her throat. He could already feel the pressure build within him. He leaned forward, letting his hand feel all around her body. He stopped at her shorts. He began tracing small circles over Mykie’s clothed clit. A moan rumbled in Mykie’s throat, vibrating around Simon’s cock causing him to throw his head back in pleasure. He slipped his hand down her shorts and began circling even faster. He craved more of her moans around his cock. He needed it. 

“Moan, fuck Mykie, more.” Simon panted, his fingers were getting sloppy as they rubbed her clit. More moans vibrated in Mykie’s throat. Some were forced just so she could see the man she loved, erupt with pleasure and some were real.  

“Shit. I c-can’t. Fuck, Mykie.” Simon stopped rubbing her clit, instead he lightly wrapped a hand around her throat. He squeezed just enough to feel the pressure around his cock as her throat tightened around him. “I-I’m gonna cum. Can I, in y-your throat?” Simon asked in between pants. 

Mykie gave him one tap on the thigh, signaling a yes. He knew to never surprise her so he let her know just before he came. 

“Jesus fuck, I can’t. I’m g-gonna c-cum…” Simon groaned out before coating her throat with his hot, sticky seed. He pumped himself until every last drop was down her throat before pulling out. 

Mykie let out small gasps for air before swallowing, making sure every last drop was gone. She pulled herself to her knees, still on the bed, and stuck her tongue out to show she swallowed every little bit. 

“Fuck, My…” Simon huffed before attaching his lips to hers again. The soft sounds of them kissing echoed through the small room as they held each other close.

heh thanks for reading <3

[nin-jay-go]

YAYYYYYYY DRAGONS RISING S2P2 LIVEBLOGGGG >:DDD

oh we're just starting off in the administration huh

sora?????? and arin??????? breaking in?????

look at themmmm being ninja ;w;

jay's missing???????? hello????????????????

is the master jay. that'd be so funny

"i can't believe she wasn't waving her designated vapor-dispelling papers"

dragons descending

nokt's voice is cool

OH..... SHE'S DEAD.....

AN EVEN BABIER DRAGON OH MY GOODNESS

oh hi rapton good to know you've gone freelance

HE'S AN MLP FAN JHSGFCDKJHASKJSGF wait. this is confirming unicorns exist. MY QIRINS CAN BE REAL

oh shit a source dragon died? yiiiikes

TOURNAMENT TOURNAMENT TOURNAMENT

EUPHRASIAAAAA FLYINGGGGGGGG SHES FLYING YAAAAAAAAAAA

wyldfyre.... girlie.............

KAIII

oh god they are so bad at stealth

YEAAAA ELEMENTAL MASTER OF PIEEEEEE >:D

zane so busy all the time

HE CAN FLYYYYYYYY LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO

jay out here destroying source dragons for fun not clickbait

STEWJITZU...

oh is geo not here? friend: he's staying home to look after the kids

THE SPREADSHEET GUY... ELEMENTAL MASTER OF SPREADSHEETS

MISTRESS OBSCURIA........ HELLO??? GOTH WOMAN???? GOT WOMAN FOR ME????????

THE FUCKING ROCK GUY IS AN ELEMENTAL MASTER????? WHAT IS HIS DEAL

can't they just like. provide proof that they got a mission from the source dragons?????

elemental master of ceremonies!

he's a little bit cringe

AWWW BABY ARINNNNN ;w;w;w;

frak ;w;w;w; youre so cute

AND THE BALL DROPS. they finally used the same element as one of my ocs 😔 sorry teri but ig you have an actual canon one now

very interesting that roby's outfit is the same colors as chen's coat

TOURNAMENT OF ELEMENTS TWOOOOO

jay wins it, calling it now

ohhhhhhhh zantans is the new nature master!

JORDANA

O_O UH OH.

DEMONS????? DAVONIANS.........

OMG!!!! ONE OF THE MASTERS IS A WHEELCHAIR USER!!!!!!

omg he's bilingual

OHHHH ZEATRIX

shockwave.............

HELLO????? WHO ARE YOU??????????

really enjoying the fight choreography

ohhhh it was a droid

amongus.........

JAY?????

THEY GOT RID OF HIS SQUEAK LETS FUCKING GO

paws :3 he's a kitty kitty

if frak's master is jay i'm gonna scream. i miss him

sighs. 13 year olds.

oh hey geo did come! nice

GAYS :D

friend: cole your mom had a gundham! me: she has two!

OH MY GOD WAS THAT PERSON JUST SEEN WITH A SEEING-EYE CANE????? SCREAMS

frak :( come onnnnn

O_O guy on throne.....

master of reflex??? zur?????

that was. fast

elemental transition? 🏳️‍⚧️

she's well-hydrated!

oh god she's fighting JAY OH THERE HE FUCKING IS

SCREAMS AND WAILS

AUUUGHHHHHHH

AUGHHHHHHHHHHH

oh he just fucking woke up there huh

OH MY FUCKING GOD HES PUTTING THE MASK ON

OAHOAUHWUIAWGDUAKAGUKHGJAKDJH

and i will always hate you

WHAT IF I SCREAMED AND YELLED

oh the throne person's a woman? love wins

nyaaaa :((((

i dont think jay's been sent away btw. i think he's still around

POCKET SIZED DRAGONS

ohhhh no arin

OHHHH NOOOOOO ARINNNN DONT GET CORRUPTED

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO [excited]

reverse the merge.....

CAUSED BY WU.... HEY ELEMENTAL MASTER OF MANIPULATION YOU WANNA SAY SOMETHING???

arin: lloyd's never gonna believe that his master caused the merge, i can't tell him! us two: he will. he's done worse without meaning to.

noooo euphrasia :((((

TOX!!!! DONT KILL HER JESUS

why does frak sound like robin

ARIN CORRUPTION ARCCCCCC

NINJA THAT FLIRTS WITH DIRT

hi nokt

riggedddddddd

....now i'm thinking about marchosias jay......

THE WUORB

AWWWW THE SIBLINGSSSSSSSS

WE SHARE MORE THAN JUST A FEW SCALES...

HEY KAI? BEHIND YOU GONE?

DETECTED HIGH LEVELS OF CRINGE JKAHGDJSDJFG

HE"S A FUCKING THEATER KID

vr experience slash gift shop....oh arin buddy this is NOT the person to ask about roby

OMG NEURO!!!! AND CHAMILLE OH MY GOD!!!!!

oh so they're retconning lloyd's element as life instead of energy?????? hello??????

oh figment is a GOOD power name

that. is a horrible fix guys

HE'S IN A COMA??????

ZEATRIX GIRL

we took an intermission and chatted about what we think is up with jay. i think that jay being away is a mission for him to gain back ras' trust in taking down the ninja, or he's just being kept in reserve just in case

FRAK I LOVE YOUUUU YOU ARE SO POWERFUL

WIFI......

HEY BLECK WHY DO YOU HATE YOUR NEPHEW SO MUCH

MULTIPLE WUORBS

of course lloyd would know how to use wind....

LILLY MENTION LETS GOOOOOO

POWER OF LOVING YOUR MOTHER

EVIL WOMAN !!!!!!!

OH

JORDANA'S BEING POSSESSED BY THE EVIL WOMAN

wuost....

YAYYYYY IMPERIUM YURI

oh zur's voiced by paul dobson. neat!

SORA YOU ARE SO POWERFUL

oh wait is reflex just the renamed speed element? or are they different

BECOME BEE!

augh poor roby :( doesn't understand that his uncle is EVIL

WHY ARE WE ALL CHEERING FOR NOKT. WRONG.

nooo whattttt? rigged? can't be /s

YOU ARE A FUCKING IDIOT BLEKT

OH NO NOKT IS FREE

oh

oh those are giant claw arms

OMG NYA AND RIYU

FUCK YOU OLD MAN

JKHSGFKDHSKJDFHKJSD GET HIS ASS RAS

soul yoinked!

i know the truth about this universe.....

RAWR MEANS I LOVE YOU IN DINOSAUR

YAYYYYYYY KAIIIIIII

jay's power went in a WEIRD direction

ARIN WENT WITH HIM... WITH THE HAMMER............

bye wuost

THEY HAVE A NETHER HUB!

DRAGON KNIFE

oh this was fun this was soooo fun

[usafphantom2]

How the sixth-generation fighter jet will upend air warfare

Stephen LoseyFriday, Jul 19, 2024

The next generation of fighter aircraft could bring greater speed, range and ability to penetrate deep into enemy airspace — and it might even feature a revolutionary new type of engine, experts and retired U.S. Air Force officer say.

The aviation world has seen five generations of fighters, ranging from the subsonic F-86 Sabre after World War II to the current, stealthy F-35 Joint Strike Fighter. Now, militaries around the world are working on jets they believe will represent technological leaps significant enough to qualify as sixth-generation aircraft.

And while the precise definition of a sixth-generation aircraft isn’t set in stone yet, experts agree on some common attributes, retired Air Force Lt. Gen. Clint Hinote told Defense News.

The Air Force’s effort to build a sixth-gen fighter family of systems is known as Next Generation Air Dominance, or NGAD, and experts say the platform will be asked to do a lot of things.

“You want it to be fast, you want it to fly high,” said Hinote, who was the Air Force’s former deputy chief of staff for strategy, integration and requirements. “You want it to fly a long way. You want it to be as stealthy as possible — not only in radar frequency … [but also] in the infrared spectrum as well.”

Hinote and Heather Penney, a retired F-16 pilot and senior resident fellow at the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, said speed, stealth and range will be among the most crucial elements of a sixth-generation fighter — particularly if it is needed to cross long distances in the Pacific and enter Chinese-controlled airspace.

“Range and the ability to penetrate will be absolutely critical for sixth-generation aircraft, especially given that we’re looking at the Pacific theater and China as our primary pacing threat,” Penney said.

Fifth-generation aircraft such as the F-22 and F-35 were conceived at a time when the United States military still had a Europe and NATO-focused mindset, Hinote said.

“The [F-35] requirements were basically developed right after the Cold War,” Hinote said. “It’s a short-range fighter. That makes total sense in NATO, where you’ve got hundreds of runways everywhere to operate off of. It makes no sense in the Pacific, where the situation is much different [and] you only have a few runways to operate off of.”

It needs to be able to communicate without giving its position away, Hinote said, and it must be able to carry larger payloads than fifth-generation aircraft carry today.

“That allows you to get to a position in the battlespace and the airspace where you can enforce your will through the use of force, if necessary, the concept of air superiority,” Hinote said.

A B-21 Raider conducts flight testing, which includes ground testing, taxiing, and flying operations, at Edwards Air Force Base, California. The B-21 will interoperate with our allies and partners to deliver on our enduring commitment to provide flexible strike options for coalition operations that defend us against common threats. (Courtesy photo)

And the ability to maintain a plane without damaging its stealth coating will be crucial, Penney said.

Early versions of stealth technology on aircraft such as the F-117A Nighthawk and B-2 Spirit bomber were delicate and difficult to maintain, she said.

Stealth has made considerable leaps forward over the years to be more practical and reliable, Penney said, and a sixth-gen fighter’s stealth capabilities also need to take another step forward to be maintainable and provide better performance.

Hinote and Penney said the next generation of aircraft must both take in large amounts of detailed data and fuse it in a way that sorts out the battlespace.

A sixth-gen aircraft “should be able to not only have those advanced sensors, not just forward looking, but side and aft, looking across [multiple] phenomena” such as radar, infrared and other frequencies, Penney said.

And the Air Force wants NGAD to team up with AI-operated drone wingmen known as collaborative combat aircraft, or CCA, as part of the “family of systems” concept. CCAs could carry out strike missions, jam enemy radars, conduct recon, or even serve as decoys.

The Air Force has so far planned for NGAD to have a new type of propulsion system known as an adaptive engine, which can shift to different, more efficient configurations depending on the flying situation. Pratt & Whitney and General Electric Aerospace are each developing their own adaptive engines as part of the Next-Generation Adaptive Propulsion program.

An adaptive engine, however, would be very expensive, Hinote said. And with serious budget crunches prompting the Air Force to reconsider its plans and designs for NGAD, the service is considering whether to scale down its engine to bring NGAD’s price down.

Air Force Secretary Frank Kendall said in a June interview with Defense News that making NGAD’s engine smaller and less complex is an option being considered.

But better dogfighting ability would likely not be on the wish list for sixth-generation fighters, Hinote said. He does not expect those aircraft to have advancements in slow-speed maneuverability or an emphasis on cannons that would allow fighters to go toe-to-toe in relatively close quarters.

“The F-22 can get a high [angle of attack] in ways we’ve never seen,” Hinote said. “The Sukhoi Su-57, same thing. I don’t think it’s relevant for enforcing air superiority in the Pacific.”

The Defense Department does not keep a hard-and-fast taxonomy of aircraft generations. But in 2017, a spokesman at Joint Base Langley-Eustis in Virginia took a crack at it.

In his column, Jeffrey Hood of the 633rd Air Base Wing’s public affairs office said the first generation of fighter jets that emerged following World War II took advantage of novel jet technology and swept wings, as opposed to the perpendicular wings that were previously standard. But those fighters, such as the F-86 Sabre, were limited to sub-sonic speeds and machine guns.

All that changed after Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier in 1947. This opened the door to a second generation of jets, such as the F-104 Starfighter, that could break Mach 1 and even Mach 2, and carry on-board radar and air-to-air missiles, Hood wrote.

The third generation — which included the Vietnam-era F-4 Phantom — incorporated advanced radars and better guided missiles that could engage enemies beyond visual range. After that came the F-14 Tomcat, F-15 Eagle, F-16 Fighting Falcon, and F-18 Hornet — fourth-generation fighters that can maneuver at high G-forces, use digital data links to share information, track multiple targets, and strike surface targets using lasers or GPS guidance.

In a 2016 study published by the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, now-retired Gen. Jeff Harrigian said fifth-generation fighters such as the F-22 and F-35 include stealth, improved self-defense, sensing, and jamming abilities, integrated avionics, and more.

And depending on one’s perspective, the first sixth-generation aircraft could already be flying.

Northrop Grumman has touted its B-21 Raider bomber as the first sixth-gen aircraft. In an interview with Defense News before the B-21′s 2022 rollout, a Northrop official said the bomber’s cutting edge stealth, use of open systems architecture, and use of advanced networking and data sharing technologies to connect sensors to shooters across multiple domains make it “the first of the sixth-gen systems.”

Those abilities are probably enough for the B-21 to qualify as a sixth-generation aircraft, Penney said, though she said its high levels of classification make it hard for outside observers to gauge whether it lives up to the hype.

Hinote looks at Northrop’s claims with a bit more skepticism and thinks it’s more of a marketing angle, but notes these generational definitions are largely matters of opinion.

“If they want to call it sixth-generation, sure,” Hinote said. “I don’t necessarily believe that the stealth characteristics and the open architecture of the B-21 automatically makes it a generational change in what we’ve got. It’s an incremental step, it’s a good step, I’m glad that we’re doing it, but it’s probably not so big that it’s truly generational.”

Stephen Losey is the air warfare reporter for Defense News. He previously covered leadership and personnel issues at Air Force Times, and the Pentagon, special operations and air warfare at Military.com. He has traveled to the Middle East to cover U.S. Air Force operations.

@Aviationweek via X

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[ivoryminitower]

Echoes of Home: 51 - Steve ("Sam")

Echoes of Home: FFXIV AU OC – WoLs on Earth

Coming from over a year in a world where sleep is sort of recreational to the world I know where circadian kicks in makes it a bit rough to shift sleep schedule on the fly.  It took a while to get to sleep in the afternoon.  Never been the sheep-counting type.  I tried cataloguing things in my head...pets, mounts, NPCs...finally dropped off in the midst of my Triple Triad cards.

Tsu'na worked the register that night, sans hat and coat.  People looked at her, sure, but not wolf-pack staring like the other time.  Maybe it was the Hartmans, maybe Sam, maybe me...or maybe she's just that personable.  She never needed to smile fulltime like she was that night, and she was doing it well.  My magnificent miqo'te was magnificent.

I hated to abandon her to the wolves, but she seemed to be doing okay, so around 11:00 I headed out to see Sam.  Even if he didn't see me.

He had the back door of the Pit open when I got there, which made it easier to get in.  Ninja Stealth gets a little iffy when it comes to doors, and we haven't had enough occasion to practice here to see if it works like Douglas Adams' SEP field.  Gatherer Sneak seems to, but we don't usually have doors in the woods.

His truck was parked near the door.  It seemed he was restocking.  I got a glimpse of an invoice on the bar detailing purchases for one S. Daniels, The Pit (so not just a nickname), Wyatt OK.  My first intel gathered.  I was so proud.

I watched him move kegs from his pickup into his back room, watched him make a last circuit of the bar before killing the lights, and finally watched from the back of the truck as he locked up the bar, got in the front of the truck and drove us off.

Sam Daniels does not appear to have a brother named Jack, or a son named Jack, or a dog named Jack.  I don't know if that was a missed opportunity or responsible parenting.  He does have a wife, or at least a cohabiting female, who was asleep in the bed when we arrived.  He also has a goldfish (who may or may not be named Jack), which was convenient for me, because after he went to bed I could read by the aquarium light.

He didn't go to bed right away.  He got himself some water from a filter pitcher (interesting choice for a bartender) and settled down on the couch to watch CNN (interesting choice for small town USA).  He may not be a scholar, but he's not an idiot.

The old, yellowed PC in the spare bedroom looked like something bought because Everybody Has One rather than something used for fun.  The parts of the room that weren't the desk and chair were heaps of boxes and piles of stuff.  I didn't have a lot of light to see by, but it looked less like hoarder chaos and more like abandoned projects...folded fabric, folio books and the like.  As if this was the room where dreams went to die.

Sam finished his water and his news intake and went to bed, leaving the fish and me to socialize.  I waited for a while until his breathing was audible and rhythmic before moving things to the fish tank to read.

Not that there was much to read.  No convenient stack of mail by the door.  An electric bill on one end of the kitchen counter, addressed to Samuel Daniels.  No junk mail I could find sent to Resident or Occupant, though there was a flyer from Community Baptist Church for "Our Neighbors".

No bank statement.  No purse.  Nothing lying around that would tell me the name of the woman.  Maybe in the bedroom, but I admit to a squeam about going in there with them, especially if the light was poor.  Which was annoying, because I felt an itch to know coming on.  I made a mental note to add night-vision goggles to my wishlist.

There was a small stack of magazines on the floor at one end of the couch...People, Cosmo, Vanity Fair.  None of them had mailing labels (stupid itch), which meant they were bought from somewhere.  I didn't remember seeing magazines at May's, but I hadn't been looking.

No books.  The Hartmans didn't have many, and the library was small, but I wasn't used to not seeing any.  Maybe again in the bedroom.

I looked around as much as the aquarium permitted.  It wasn't sparse, or spartan, or utilitarian; it was just really...tidy.  The furniture was old and the place felt lived-in, but there wasn't a lot of life filling the space.  Which just made me itch more about the wife...sure, maybe all of Sam's life was at the bar, but what about hers?

Spying and burglary weren't really a thing in FF14, so I didn't have a lockpicking skill.  Elder Scrolls Online had a lot of it...I was breaking into places all the time in that game.  Might be nice if I could drop into an ESO world for training.  In the meantime, if I left I couldn't get back in until someone opened a door, which might be at least six hours later.

But there was absolutely nothing to do until someone got up.  I couldn't sleep there...I might get tripped over.  Or heard...Tsu'na's never said I snore; Sam should probably not be the person to tell me.

So I slipped out, leaving the door locked behind me.  Sam's porch light was on, showing me a mostly empty yard, but there were some trees at the edge of the light range.  I went out to the trees, then went out further until I couldn't see the porch light any more, then just a bit further. I got out the camping kit, set up the tent, and crawled in.

The sleep I got earlier helped, but the unexpected exercise degraded me.  The snooping plus the camp setup, plus waiting for Sam to turn in, had eaten a couple hours.  I didn't know how long Sam would sleep, but I needed to be up before him, so I linkpearled Tsu'na about the new schedule, set an alarm for five hours and conked out.

And woke, not to the alarm, but to metal banging.  "Hey!  You in the tent!  Get out here!"

I unzipped the tent and peered out.  There was Sam, a shotgun in his right hand and a tire iron in his left.  He blinked and stared at me.  "Steve?"

I blinked and stared back at him. "Sam?"

"The fuck're you doin' here?"

"...Trying to sleep?"

"Next to my house!?"

I looked blearily around.  Yes, I could in fact just barely see his wood-paneled house out there beyond the trees.  Which meant he could see my orange nylon tent from his front porch.

The Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal is known to be so stupid that it thinks that, if you can't see it, it can't see you.

"That's your house?  I didn't know."

"Then what are you doing here?"

A random neuron fired.  "Looking for sumac."

"...Sumac."

"Yeah, it's a bush, grows around six feet…"

"I know what sumac is!"

"Okay, well, Tsu'na said she wanted some for an herbal thing, and the forest service maps said it grew around here."

"And you went looking for it, what, at night?"

"It...got me away from her.  She was being kinda bitchy.  I think it might be her time of the month."

(I couldn't tell if she was amused when I told her about this.  "I was a prop?"  "No, my love, I was making excuses.  You were an alibi.")

Sam sighed, and let his gaze wander around the trees.  'You wanted to hang out, whyn'cha just come to the bar?"

"I didn't know this was your place!  I saw the porch light, thought it'd be a good reference point in the morning."

"This is weird.  You know that, right?"

"Kinda weird, yeah."

He looked at me.  I looked at him.

I gestured to the gun.  "Shotgun?"

"Problems with squatters."

"Gotcha.  Look, lemme pack up the tent and I'll be on my way…"

"You want breakfast?"

"Oh, I couldn't impose…"

"Pack up the damn tent and come to the house."

"Yes, sir."

The tent came with a shoulder tote, which I stuffed it into, because of course I didn't have an extradimensional pocket for it or anything.  I lugged it up to the house, knocked on the door and was greeted once again by Sam.  I stepped inside to find the woman awake, sitting on the couch, and absorbed in the TV.

"This is my wife, Dolores.  Dee, this is Steve from the bar.  He's who was in the tent."

Dolores blinked and looked up at me. "Why's he camping next to us?"

"He was out at night, got lost and parked at the first house he saw."

She kept staring at me.  I was reminded of Snuggles and Cat TV.  "You could get yerself shot doing that."

"Thanks…I'll keep that in mind."

She studied me a moment longer, looked at Sam, and turned back to the TV.  I was clearly Sam's to deal with.  And my novelty just didn't compete with Oprah.

I followed Sam to the kitchen. "Seriously, you don't have to…"

"Dee woke me, I woke you.  We're both up, so we might as well both eat.  How do you want your eggs?"

"However you make 'em is fine."

He gave me a pointed look.

"...Over-medium?"

"Hm.  So however I make 'em?"

"Is fine."

Scrambled was fine, especially with toast.  He set the plates down and sat across from me.  "Find any sumac, then?"

"Honestly, I wasn't trying that hard."

"She like this often?"

"Depends on the circumstance."

"An' the time o' the month?"

"Well, yeah.  But I think she's been a bit edgy sometimes here.  New place, new people, new ear and tail issues…"

Sam nodded.  "Spoke with some o' the regulars 'bout that.  They kinda like her, ya know…cute lil' thing like her that can throw 'em around.  The ears an' tail just give her…whatcha call…"

"Mystique?"

"Was gonna say character, but sure.  They think of her as part o' the bar, part o' them…and they can get kinda territorial.  Sure, they fight sometimes, but no one comes in an' makes a mess o' their bar, ya know?"

I smiled. "So she's got herself a home."

"Oh, hell yeah.  Ain't it like that at the diner?  Joel said he an' Hazel been talkin' to people."

"Kind of a different crowd.  We mostly get teenagers in the evening.  But yeah, it's gotten better.  I think.  The pretzels and pies sell."

"So don't worry 'bout it too much.  You be nice to them, they'll be nice to you.  Just keep the weird down."

Talk drifted to the shed, and some things about running the bar.  Through it all, Dolores (itch scratched) kept her eyes on the TV.  I guess that's where her life is now.  Though I do wonder about the piles of stuff in the other room.

Sam offered to drive me back to town, as long as I didn't mind a stop at the Safeway out the highway.  I found dried sumac there, for appearances.  Sam recommended I add a bag of chocolates ("Trust me on this.").  We loaded his stuff into the truck and drove toward the diner.

I told Tsu'na the story of my adventure.  I think she was trying not to laugh at me.  "What is sumac?"

"This stuff."

"And what will we do with it?"

"Put it on pizza, maybe?"

"And the chocolate?"

"Sam said women like chocolate during their period."

"I must thank Sam for teaching my husband about women."

"You've never had a period."

"No, but I like chocolate.  If Sam has taught you to bring me chocolate, I must thank him."

So, an all-around educational night.  We were both a bit short on sleep, so we went to bed for a couple hours.

As we cuddled under the blanked, she nuzzled close and whispered "sumac" in my ear with a giggle.

I'll probably be hearing about that for a while.

[rodolfoparras]

Since everyone is talking about their cod ocs, I wanna join (this is so long, I'm so sorry)

So basically my little guy is autistic and trans (I'm projecting) and a huge mamas boy. His name is Everett (I just realized I NEVER gave him a last name😭) and his callsign is Rabbit and he's an Alaskan native (I'm pretty sure this is what they prefer to be called because they don't fuck with being called americans and shit? I'm not 100%)

His ma picked out Everett by force, she was like "?? I'm literally your mother, I'm picking your name" and he was so worried she'd pick something awful, turns out!

(side note, I love rabbits and use them for symbolism a lot. They represent rebirth, so I use them in trans related pieces. I did an art piece of myself pulling a rabbit out of a hat with a bunch of rebirth symbolism and shit, love the piece, may send it here to show it off)

But his callsign comes from being a rabbit hunter growing up and his ability to blend in, he specializes in undercover operations and stealth missions. (Some hares, like a snowshoe, change coats in the season to blend in from predators)

He's voluntarily mute most of the time and does not do expressions very well. Most of his childhood photos are him just 🧍‍♂️😶, gotta be reeaall close with him to have a convo with him

Because he's so quiet, he hears sooo much shit and does like weekly shit talking sessions with Ghost and Roach in their barracks. No body understands how he knows so much because fucking no one talks to him and turns out the rodents are stalking the base and listening in on conversations

Idc how overused masks are, they're so fun. He wears one at home (and at work) because he's got a huge family with lots of little kids, and he's scared of scaring them and doesn't want to "traumatize" his nieces and nephews with his scars on his face and body. Everett misses out on a LOT of family events even though he really wants to go and misses them so much because he's scared

He carries and makes a lot of rabbits feet charms because he firmly believes in their ability to bless you with good luck. He does the metal work himself and personalizes them and gives them off to people he truly cares about.

Everett believes it because his ma said so (duh) and because he narrowly missed a bullet that took a chunk of his ear inside of blowing his brains up while he carried one, so all his favorites get one to protect them.

Later in life, he wound up too close to a bomb and a piece of shrapnel went straight into his face and blinds him in one eye

He was so utterly devastated when he got medically discharged and was scared of totally losing his sight and never being able to communicate with Roach again

I'm a firm believer in polycule 141 so it just becomes scarier when Johnny starts losing his hearing from all the explosives and shit and so many of them experience wear and tear in this hand joints from working with guns

Gonna copy and paste my polycule 141 disability headcanons that I've talked about with my bf

"Ghost's got horrible horrible nightmares and sometimes will react in his sleep. Night terrors or physically reacting, but that one's very rare."

"Price definitely gets respiratory issues, half because of his cigars, and half from breathing shit in before he could get a mask on. Probably gets asthma the older he gets."

"Roach gets chronic migraines. They're basically debilitating, can't get out of bed for days and keeps all light out of his room. Takes meds for it that usually work."

"Most of them have joint issues. Half of them creak and groan like a fucking million year old house on its last leg."

"Gaz gets degenerative arthritis. I think he'd be in the force the longest and since he was the youngest to join SAS, he probably overworked himself beyond belief when he had joined. Wore him down fs"

With Johnny being hard of hearing:

"I don't if he'd be able to get hearing aids, his cochlea probably too damaged so that if he did get cochlear implants or something, they probably wouldn't do much but piss him off. Because sometimes if you get cochlears, they just make an annoying noise. So he'd just wind up pissy over it so he'd probably opt not to get them - (also the surgery is invasive and obviously doesn't work sometimes depending on person)

-141 would have to install flashing light systems through the house to alert Soap and half of em probably walk heavier to warn Soap so they don't scare him"

Since he grew up in Alaska, he was very used to it being day or night for weeks or months, sometimes finds it a little jarring when he sees the sun actually setting and the moon coming up or vise versa.

One time, after a really shit mission, he woke up in the hospital to see it was nighttime when he distinctly remembers it being day the last time he was awake. And it's like "OH SHIT HOW LONG HAVE I BEEN OUT FOR." nearly sends himself into a panic thinking he'd just woken up from a fucking coma.

Shit there's so much more I could say but this is already so long, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I was so hyper fixated on him for a good few months with my bf

-🐧

Wait the fact that she picked the name is kinda cute and that the reason behind it was bc she’s the mom here idk it’s nice when parents are properly involved in their kids life

Also I’ll forever love yalls background story for your call names bc they’re always so thought out and so interesting genuinely y’all are so creative 🥹

I love that he has shit talking sessions with ghost and roach bc I absolutely think they’d get along well soap info dumps sm gaz overshares and price uses Everett to complain so he knows sm and randomly shares the info😭

Does his mask look something akin to a rabbit or does it represent rabbits in any way? Also now I’m imagining him walking around on base all excited about handing out charms😭 oh my goodness imagine each charm having something that represents the members that wears it?

Oh man although it’s sad he went blind in one eye I can imagine he’d lock sick in a prosthetic eye!!

Also I like how the disability hc actually makes sense especially prices and soaps but especially prices bc I know that man has coughing fits and snores horribly and you can hear a certain rasps in his voice when he talks 😭

And I love them being a polycule and taking care of each other in this way 🥹 like I know this is what you do in healthy relationships but idk it’s sweet ? Like price giving gaz massages bc his wrists hurt a lot? 🥹

Also don’t apologize sugar it’s okay!! It was a really interesting read genuinely I wish I had the ability to create ocs but not just ocs-, but ocs that have so much depth and backstory it’s absolutely amazing that y’all have this ability!

[valiantvillain]

It's here. It's done. Chapter 2 of Duty, Diligence, Devotion.

The truth came stalking into Miraz’s tent the very next evening. 

Her suspicions about Astarion’s likely tenuous relationship to life had ascended to their peak. The pale elf had made no mention of the night before, gave no inclination that he had heard a paladin’s poor excuse for stealth creeping out of her tent. Nothing but let himself be caught watching her movements a breath too long, always providing the perfect opportunity to smile at her with more than friendly fascination. Indeed, his attentions seemed to have only grown bolder: taking his time brushing past her, touches lingering upon her arm and shoulder even when she had donned her armor and could scarcely feel his touch through the chainmail, sidling up next to her a little too casually. All too intimately. With every sarcastic retort she issued, the more readily she could expect another instance of flirtation,a thread of strain in his smile and his movements marred by the undercurrent of a sudden nervous energy that had not been there the previous day. 

Then there had been the boar. Or rather the exsanguinated corpse of one. Against Astarion’s dismissive protest, Miraz had knelt to investigate. It had borne no obvious injury, not even a trickle of blood staining the ground. As though death had come to the beast on the wings of natural causes. Perhaps a disease that had worn away the defenses of a young and healthy boar, its bristly coat shining with the luster of youth still. But the edges of bloodless flesh and the two needle-like puncture in its throat told a different story. An icy finger of dread trailed down her spine as she fought the urge to cut an accusing glare towards the elf peering over her shoulder. 

Had he been perturbed, had his voice wavered with the alarm of yet another danger to prey upon them in the night, she might have granted him some benefit of the doubt, however meager. Might have allowed herself yet another shred of it, despite all the misgivings. Instead, his words dripped with annoyance, knowledgeable as though reciting words he had memorized from a well-read book. It was too easy, too nonchalant, too practiced. As if he had rehearsed the lines a thousand times before in preparation for this very moment. Yet all Miraz could see when she got to her feet was the jagged edges of an old wound that bore too many similarities to those of the boar peeking out from beneath the lace of his collar. Instinct and reflexes tightened her grip on her hammer as his airy assurances that he would keep watch from vampires sailed past her ears, his chill touch light as feathers as he reached to place a hand on her shoulder. Practically protective. 

If Astarion had detected anything unusual about her, any stiffening of her limbs, any particular flintiness in her gaze when they returned to camp that evening, he gave no indication. But maybe that too was part of the charade. The pretense of unsuspecting normalcy. 

If she had wanted to play mind games she would have stayed in Baldur’s Gate. Stayed her grandfather’s pet bastard and submitted herself to his endless tests. Years of practice had made them practically second nature, instilled in her an inherent paranoia that saw fit to underscore every interaction, analyzing every word and expression for a whiff of intrigue or insult. It had made her clever, as grandfather had so loved to remind her, made it easy for her to sniff out a lie like a dead body beneath the floorboards. The powers of a paladin had only honed the keenness of her nose to that of a hunting hound. It was exhausting, to always be alert, always rigid and detecting, unable to cease pricking her ears for the merest hint of deception. Only ever able to relax in the presence of her friends, a handful of children once left on the steps of Baldur’s Gate’s temples. 

Astarion, she noted, had elected to seat himself beside her with an air of familiarity. All cheeky grins and fluid flattery as he all but reclined against her side. The smell of rosemary and brandy that came with the elf being too close eked its way past the woodsmoke of the fire and the spices of a potato soup. For all the good the meal did Astarion, for his eyes gleamed hungrier than ever. 

There she lay then in her tent, struggling to succumb to sleep on her bedroll yet again. Victim to a fitful mind and a sense of grim expectation. She lay still, willing her eyes to remain closed, her hands to remain idle and wrapped around her pillow instead of her weapon. Yet behind her eyelids, a sliver of pale light sliced through the shadows, the flutter of canvas sounding in her ears. 

Then the footsteps. Light and cautious with the barest rasp of shifting gravel. Drawing nearer and nearer. Right towards her. Her heart quickened, pounded in her ears as every muscle in her body tensed, bracing for an attack. A moment to strike. Even as she tried not to let on that she was indeed awake. Awake and very much aware of the eyes raking the length of her body like a voyeur’s salacious stare, could feel them like a wandering hand. Revulsion threatened to twist her mouth into a scowl and give her away.

Go away and I won’t have to hurt you, she silently warned, hoping the intruder did not notice her fingers cautiously stir beneath the blankets. Her unwelcome visitor knelt beside her, its breath fanning across her face while a cool hand swept her hair away from her neck. Her eye twitched. She heard a swallow, a deep shuddering breath. The hand wove gracefully through the tangles in her hair to plant itself beside her head. Then it bore down upon her. 

Rosemary and bergamot swarmed her flared nostrils. 

Miraz had known it. She had been right all along. 

[themarginalthinker]

for @berd-alert a little something to get you through the day. a half-finished scene based on potential events that may happen in our current vtm campaign. based off that goofy ship scene in Treasure Planet. Enjoy, darling.

-

Dean peers around the corner.

The grand hall of the Met was empty this time of night - of humans. His eyes flickered to and fro, from dark corner to the railings of the galleries above. They hadn't had an issue getting in, as one lonely ghouled door guard made for pretty piss-poor security, but simply not seeing anyone didn't mean no-one was there.

Nosferatu weren't the only ones with Obfuscate, and disappearing was the least the ability could do.

Still, Dean reasons, if anyone was going to jump them to keep them from going further, they'd have done it by now. He waves his hand.

"Alright, you know the plan. I'm going to try and get to the offices up there, you-"

"Go for the cameras! I know, Dean!"

Dean hisses as Rigby's voice bounces out across the wide open of the grand hall, accusing, miffed, and above all else, loud. He swings about and lands a hand on the smaller vampire's face, palm smack over his mouth.

"Does the word 'stealth' mean anything to you?" He grits out between elongated fangs.

What he gets for his troubles is a hand wet with cold, pink Kindred spit.

"No one around," Rigby says when Dean's taken back his arm and is furiously wiping it on his shirt.

"That we know of," Dean sighs. "Look, as much as...we have to trust that she's got her reasons for doing this, Parthena is still technically going against her sect here."

"Stolen books for stolen magic from stolen blood," Rigby nods.

Something like that. If they were going to get anything, it was going to be from the Tremere and it wasn't going to be easy. Parthena had told them Sturbridge had made that more than clear, as intrigued as she was by the (totally hypothetical) notion of something like Sammy.

Dean casts a last look out at the room, just in case something had changed, which after a minute it appeared it hadn't, and then nods to Rigby.

Like a baggy-coated flash of light, the Malkavian was off, making for the stairs that would lead down to the security offices and other electronic control centers for the building. As much as the art was kept under so much lock and key, Dean knew there was other, more precious things to be had that employed defenses far more effective than a simple magnetic strip lock on the door. Keeping the mundane authorities away for even a few minutes could mean the difference between finally getting some answers, and. Well.

Dean just wouldn't think of the possibility of failure.

-

"One door, two door, grey door...more grey door..." Rigby hummed to himself as he trawled the labyrinth of corridors and hallways. The building above was much nicer, with much more natural lighting. Everything looked the same.

Floor one, exit. Stairwell, emergency exit. Exibibits 1-5.

Rigby blinked at the words as they cast their shadows and seared lines into his vision. Could mean anything. Could mean nothing.

"One wire, and no stress, wire me a line, 'cause I've got a ticket to ri-ide..." he sighs, rounding another corner.

A sound reaches his ears, and Rigby is suddenly still as the living dead. They won't see him if he doesn't move, and Rigby has no intentions to. Eyes sweep from side to side. to his destination - nothing. To the hallway just past - nothing there.

Like a strobe in front of his eyes, green and red and electric and leaving trails in his vision, Exit. Exit. Exit. E x it x. T iTexit EEEEEExiExtii-

"Soon," Rigby says to the sign in the reflection of the shiny floor.

It settles it enough to find the door he needs.

Unlocking it, and pulling it open, he is face to face with a room of circuit breakers in metal cages of chain-link. Dimly lit, thankfully, just a few halogen security bulbs keeping the place only just navigable by mortal eyes, casting long, orange streaks between the shadows. The floor was concrete and bare, cables snaking here and there (all in orderly fashion, of course.)

Rigby steps in an closes the door behind him.

Exhibits 1-5, Exhibits 6-11, EEEEEExhibits 12-13-

Ah.

Rigby pauses in his wandering and reading. His foot just above taking another step.

On the ground before him, in possibly the darkest shadow yet, was something....something. It gleamed wetly, slugishly. Long lines, fading away into the concrete ground in rounds and shapes. Rigby blinked hard, and Looked.

Those long lines now formed an even wider shape, with even more inside. A circle. Drawn in dark, thick, old vitae.

Rigby tilts his head.

He bites his thumb, cold blood rising in a dot to the surface, and he reaches out.

-

Dean had been told where he'd find what the head of the Chantrey wanted, but it seemed finding that was going to be its own adventure. He darted from corner to corner, using his passcard as often as he was able. The offices of the Met were as lovingly (and expensively) decorated as the rest of the place, and Dean more than suspected that some of the art that likely should have been out on show or kept in the archives was in fact adorning the walls and hallways of the desk drudgery of people with too much time and money on their hands.

He was no Indiana Jones, though. It was all technically in a museum, and he didn't really care either way. Not what he was concerned about.

Finally, he came to a door. This door was just like any other door in the winding mess of office space, save for one, tiny detail he'd been told to look for.

Near the bottom, almost touching the floor, scratched into the wood of the door, was a little symbol.

A half-circle, the open end of it facing down, and from that a cross.

A little, line-art ankh.

If he could breath, he'd have huffed out a relieved puff. Good. The Tremere hadn't lied. Yet.

Dean reaches out and grasps the handle of the door, lifting his keycard to open it, when something,

happens.

All of a sudden, it's like all the air in the building is gone. No, it's - it's like it's inverted, like Dean is breathing backwards rather than even as his dead body still can, and, in each, the taste of blood - Kindred blood - coats his mouth.

Almost as quickly as it had happened, it stops. Dean blinks, but

then something else.

He's in the air. He's suddenly unmoored from the bounds of gravity, as though it had simply stopped working. Dean flails, a cry at his lips he barely suppresses as he writhes in the air, only managing to flip himself around. Around him, nothing else has changed, it's just him, though, as he watches, a potted plant in the corner begins to, before his eyes, wither and die, and the leaves crumble to dead, dried dust.

And just as before, suddenly, it stops.

Dean does let out a too-hearty "fuck!" as he's suddenly dropped five feet back to the floor, landing almost on his own head.

Growling, he stands, panic felt in every follicle of hair and every nerve end.

"That crazy fucking Malk is gonna get us-"

Dean doesn't have half a moment before there's long, steel-enforced, bony claws smashing into the wood where his head had been less than a second before, the both of them inhumanly fast.

Dean whips around, fangs out, reflexes on edge and powered by his own blood as he rounds on his attacker.

They're a woman -at least, he thinks so - who stands hunched and glaring at him. She's wearing clothing that one could call 'streets-chic' as having known Rigby, this is a rich man's imitation of the fashions of those without means to buy clothing often. Fitted black hoodie, long dark cowl hood that frames choppy, short blond hair, jeans that look like their pockets and belts might pack a bit more heat if the kevlar vest she was also wearing was anything to go by.

One arm, the one she'd extended to attempt to impale his head with, retreated and he could see the massive, hooked claws that sunk back into the skin. The knuckles of that hand were adorned with metal claws to match.

Her eyes, narrowed in rage at her miss, were slitted and green.

Cat. Animal.

Dean didn't have a chance to rattle off anything scathing about a Gangrel playing housecat to the Camarilla before something

happened.

Suddenly, the world was black. A humming, dark abyss that surrounds them both, that eats the world. If there is anything beyond this, it's impossible to tell. And from the sounds of it, the harsh cry almost lost in the living void around them, the Gangrel woman is feeling this too.

-

"Not that, oh bad Rigby! DON'T WORRY DEAN I GOT IT!" Rigby shouts to himself as he Sees beyond Seeing in order to even find the circle again in the Oblivion he'd accidentally inflicted upon the building, biting his hand for the third time and starts re-re-writing what he'd changed.

-

Dean wonders if this is what it's like to see for the first time when the endless, choking darkness was suddenly gone as though it had never been there, because shit, even the office hallway looked like the light of fucking God after that.

For a moment, Dean and the Gangrel can only blink stupidly at each other.

Dean then turns, and with all the quickening that's left in his body, runs.