#since that time the main tag has never known peace.

[isan0rt]

Can you elaborate on the fandom’s darling thing about Riku? Do you mean about how fandom treats him or is it about canon writing?

That post was about fandom treatment! So for example, fandom taking a plot point that belongs to another character and giving it to the most popular character instead, fandom making the actual protagonist less important or more reliant on the fandom favorite just to make the fandom favorite seem more important, stripping out major themes from the fandom favorite in favor of packing them full to bursting with themes that other characters are actually meant to express, making everything in the series actually about the fandom favorite character even if in the actual text it's not about him... Etc. That can happen in a text too but that particular post was about fandom doing it.

I tagged that particular character because the fandom during the hiatus since the last console game has like, totally forgotten what that character's themes actually are and it's actively driven me out of the main tag because it's just. Post after post after post of flanderizing him at the expense of every other main character in the game series. Examples (censored to avoid hitting tags cuz I'm not looking to start shit) include:

- Taking the important role Ka*ri serves as representing 'light' to the protagonist and clumsily shoehorning R*ku in even though his whole thing is that he's darkness and that's okay

- Taking S*ra's association with meteor showers away from Ka*ri (who arrived during a meteor shower and thus S*ra associates them with her) and Nam*ne (her fantasy of S*ra promising to protect her from the meteors) and giving them to R*ku. (Posted about this here)

- Taking S*ra's heroic role in that fantasy and also giving it to R*ku at S*ra's expense to shoehorn S*ra into a damsel in distress role to make R*ku look better.

- Taking the very symbol that has represented S*ra from the beginning of the entire series (the crown) and making that too also secretly about R*ku.

No other characters are allowed to have shit by the console game fandom. Everything has to be about that one goddamn character but not even the real guy, a fake Gary Stu action hero version of him that strips out everything interesting about him to instead diminish the importance of the female characters to the actual protagonist in the interest of making the actual protagonist a sexy lamp love interest for The Fandom Favorite. It's very annoying because I ADORE the character in question as he actually is in the canon but the version that is Fandom's Favorite Darling gives me so much agita I have simply left the fandom for the console games at this point.

[melodygatesauthor]

The Dark Side of the Moon - Chapter 5: Losing Control

Vampire Marc Spector X f!Reader

Beta Read by @xbellaxcarolinax - Masterlist - AO3

Chapter Summary

About a week after Ammit's departure, Marc learns that Khonshu has been invited now to see Ammit in the mountains. His desire for you grows.

Tags/Warnings (for entire fic)

Major Tags/Warnings Major Character Death - Non-con - Dub-con - Violence Minor Tags/Warnings NSFW, smut, Khonshu is human turned vampire, Ammit is human turned vampire, sex with characters other than the main pairing (Marc X f!Unnamed Character - Khonshu X f!Reader), p in v creampie, furniture grinding, scent kink, blood kink, vampire/human relationship, blood drinking, rough sex, oral sex, coming untouched, coming in pants, panty sniffing, angst, fluff, smut, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, Marc does NOT have DID Dead Dove Do Not Eat - This means that what you see in the tags is what you get in the fic. If you read the tags and see "non-con" and then see non-con in the fic, don't be surprised!

Word Count: 3.1k

Marc brought your panties back to you that same night while you slept soundly. He’d left without a word because he didn’t want to make things more intimate than they already were. He didn’t even know you, and he already wanted you so badly. He breathed deeply while trying to imagine…what if he actually cared about you on a personal level?

He didn’t…but what if he did?

There was no way he’d be able to just sit idly by and watch while another man drank your blood, and touched you the way Khonshu did. In the week following that night, Marc made a point to avoid going to your room. It was far too risky, and Khonshu was keeping a closer eye on things ever since Ammit had taken her leave. It was obvious his master was suspicious, so it was best he kept a healthy distance from you.

Marc thought he would never know the nature of Ammit’s visit until Khonshu called both he and Arthur to his study to meet. The only reason he looked forward to seeing Khonshu anymore was because you were often there at his side, but not this time. Marc felt a pit in his stomach when you weren’t there. The only time he got to see you was when you were with him. He was determined to avoid going to your room again…ever again.

“Looking for something, Marc?” Khonshu teased, knowing exactly why Marc’s eyes were scanning around the room, as though he might see you hiding behind a curtain or perhaps you might pop out from beneath the desk.

“No, sir. Just making sure the room is secure,” he lied, watching Khonshu to see if he bought it.

If he didn’t buy it, he wasn’t making it obvious. Khonshu sighed, looking between his two knights, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He had that smug look splayed over his face while he looked them both over. Marc’s stomach turned, knowing what this look meant. Their master was plotting something.

“Ammit has invited us to her home in the mountains to discuss her plans with the upcoming annual cattle auction, and to review our peace treaty,” he scoffed, “she thinks I don’t know her true intentions.”

“Why didn’t you two discuss this when she was just here?” Marc asked, not keen on the thought of walking into the lion’s den to discuss something so trivial.

The other part of Marc, the selfish part, didn’t know if Khonshu intended to leave you here while they traversed into the mountains. If that were the case Marc didn’t know when he might see you again, and despite himself, he couldn’t bear that thought. What was he thinking? He’d only known you a few weeks and he was in a chokehold by your scent, your body, and everything that made you…you.

Dumbass, he thought to himself.

“Does it matter? Do you have duties other than serving me to keep you busy, Marc?” Khonshu looked at him with his brow furrowed in aggravation.

For fear of his fate should he continue questioning his master, Marc took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sorry I was just wondering, it could be a trap,” he proposed, trying to think of a more logical reason than his emotions to keep them in Khonshu’s mansion.

“I’ve already considered that,” Khonshu retorted.

“That’s why I’ll stay behind, Marc. You and Khonshu can go to Ammit, and I’ll keep an eye on things here,” Harrow explained with more attitude than was probably necessary.

Marc couldn’t continue protesting without looking suspicious, so he nodded, accepting defeat. Khonshu sighed, running a hand through his black locks, sauntering to the window to stare out at the moonlit bay. His face looked calm while he took in the view, and for a moment Marc wondered about Khonshu’s past. He didn’t know the man well, not on a personal level anyway, and yet he felt himself obligated to defend Khonshu with his life, all because he’d saved Marc so many years ago in Cairo.

“Marc, instruct the servants of your wing to ready your cattle, we’ll be leaving at dawn.” Khonshu spoke without turning to face either of them. “You may go now, Harrow, you can stay. We have much to discuss before you take over for me.”

Marc left the room and closed the door behind himself slowly. The light click was deafening in the otherwise silent hallway. He trudged toward his room, hands tucked into his pockets. Marc stopped in his tracks, right at the junction of your hallway and his. All the high-ranking vampires’ cattle were in your hall, doors lining the walls where each one had a lovely room with spacious quarters. It wasn’t practical, but Khonshu was nothing if not excessive.

“Master Spector,” a soft voice came from behind Marc, forcing him to jump.

Frightening a vampire was a near-impossible task…while they were focused that is. But since you’d arrived, Marc couldn’t focus to save his life. He spun around, seeing the head maidservant of that wing there to greet him. She gave him a friendly smile, as she often did.

“Uh, I was just looking for you. Would you ready my cattle for travel tomorrow? I don’t know when we’ll return, so we’ll need to spare a few maidservants as well.” He said, still trying to catch his breath from the start she gave him just a moment ago.

“Of course sir. Anything else?” She waited for him expectantly.

“No, no thank you.”

~~~~

In another couple of hours, he’d given up trying to fight with himself and Marc was climbing up to your window to see you. He didn’t know what would happen while he was away, and he needed to feel you again before he left. If he could just take in your touch, and that sickening scent one more time, he could get through until the next time he saw you. At least, that’s what he’d hoped.

You were sleeping, which made him somehow feel like less of a freak. If you weren’t conscious, then you wouldn’t know he was standing there awkwardly, watching your shoulder rise and fall with every breath while you slept with your back to him. He sighed in contentment, knowing that you would be safe while he was away, safe from Khonshu…and safe from himself.

“Are you going to join me or are you going to stand there?” you asked softly, turning around just enough to look at him.

Marc froze in place, feeling embarrassed for, once again, being caught red-handed by you in your bedroom. It took him a moment to process your words fully. Join you? Not a chance that you were asking him to join you.

“You don’t want that,” he said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes I do,” you turned over to make your seriousness known.

“You want me to lay in bed with you? Why?” Marc was so confused, unable to understand why you, a human who knew what his kind was capable of, would want him to lay in your bed.

“You’ve felt what you do to me,” you started sliding off the bed, standing on your bare feet and gliding toward him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you I…”

Marc’s body was rigid as you trailed off and walked closer, soft hands reaching out to grip his forearms just below his rolled-up sleeves. You weren’t even looking him in the eye anymore, your pupils were dilated, and staring at his parted lips. Marc sighed out a soft breath just before he let you kiss him.

Your lips were still delicious, and your mouth even more so. Marc’s hands found your hips, fingers squeezing just hard enough to claim possession, but not hard enough to do any damage. He couldn’t leave a mark on you, despite wanting to desperately. In a sick way, Marc was willing to accept his death just to see the look on Khonshu’s face when he saw the way his servant branded you.

“Take me, Marc,” you whispered against his open mouth before he closed it over yours once more.

Fuck he wanted to.

Marc’s lips stole a loud gasp from you as he pushed you backward, landing on top of you as your knees gave out at your bedside. He felt his cock pressing incessantly against his jeans, desperate for you once more. He fumbled with his buckle, the obstacle only serving to make him want you more. The leather against denim whooshed as he pulled the belt free from the loops, beginning to work on the button.

He could feel you spreading your legs even wider, as though you were trying to pull him into your body. Marc was the only supernatural creature in the room, but your moans called him to you like a siren song. His breath quickened as he finally found freedom from his pants, pulling them down below his knees.

“Mm, help…” you whined, tugging at your shorts and trying to get them off, but to no avail.

Marc leaned back, pulling your shorts and panties off quickly, tossing them aside before caging you between his elbows once again. His breathing was labored, leaking cock so desperate it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. The anticipation alone was almost enough to make him come without any friction at all. He tasted your sweet lips again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths with such hunger.

“Marc…” your voice sounded so small, so insignificant compared to the obnoxiously loud thoughts plaguing his mind.

Fuck her, bite her, kill her, fuck her, fill her, drink her…

He brought his lips to your neck, kissing your skin and tasting the salt of your sweat. His cock twitched and his hips jerked forward involuntarily, fat tip brushing against your slick entrance. You spread your legs more, your body telling him in a thousand ways the same thing you’d been saying all along, ‘take me, Marc’.

He could do it. He was right there, leaking head sitting just barely in your needy little hole. You whimpered, hips arching upward and forcing a little more of his length inside of you. Marc shuttered, feeling his teeth graze your neck as he lost control. The part of him that wanted to drink you dry was winning.

“Marc, no!” You said just over a whisper.

He woke from his trance, hearing your words break through the internal struggles of his mind. He growled in frustration and pulled back, feeling the disappointment in your airy exhale. He was disappointed too, but he couldn’t risk hurting you. Marc slid off the bed onto his knees, gripping the space where your hips and thighs meet, tugging you toward his face. Your pretty cunt glistened by the moonlight coming through the window, juices dripping down your lips and into your asscheeks.

Marc felt his eyelids drop in arousal while he stared at the beauty before him. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to your folds, kissing them once and feeling your thighs tremble in response. Your sensitive reaction made Marc’s cock twitch again, inciting a deep, low rumble in his chest. He breathed out slowly, licking his lips and tasting your sweet juices. If your blood was even half as delicious, he was certain he wouldn’t be able to resist emptying you completely.

He dragged two fingers between your soaking lips, collecting a small pool of your arousal in his palm before bringing it down to his leaking cock. Marc wrapped his fist around himself, letting your slick guide his hand easier along his length. A growl escaped him just as he covered your needy cunt with his mouth.

Marc’s brain went blank.

He had to stop pumping his fist before he came too quickly. The taste of your body, - your wet slick - was maddening.

“Mm, put your l-legs on my shoulders,” he managed to say before your alluring scent pulled him back in.

He was biting back the urge to moan as he felt your legs wrap around his head, thighs brushing along his ears gently. Using his free hand - the hand that wasn’t choking the life out of his aching dick - he pressed against your stomach, keeping you firmly in place. A sharp gasp shot out of your lungs, making his cock leak even more. He sighed, dragging his tongue between your folds, moaning into your mound as though he were savoring every drop your body fed him.

This was the first time Marc ever truly felt powerful in all his life. He wasn’t hurting you, and instead, he was simply enjoying you. He was enjoying your sounds, the little breathless whines that slipped through your parted lips. He enjoyed the smell of you, that sweet scent that held him in a chokehold every damn day since he’d met you. And dammit if he didn’t enjoy that taste, the distinct flavor, unlike anything he’d ever felt on his tongue in all his days.

You were too good to be true.

“Oh, M-Marc,” you breathed, reaching a hand up to grip his slicked-back curls.

He exhaled with a low groan, slowly starting to jerk himself again while you tugged and pulled his face tighter against your center. Your legs were vibrating against his ears, heels digging into his back while you pulled him in deeper. 

Needy little thing, he thought, as if he weren’t twice as desperate.

The wet sounds of his slurping tongue mixed with your cries. Marc started rutting into his own hand, imagining he was fucking the cunt he ate from. He dragged his tongue down between your crevices, cleaning each fold before dipping his tongue into your fluttering hole. If he moved his head just right, he could brush the tip of his nose over your swollen clit - just right -.

“O-oh, Marc!” You rasped out in a high-pitched whisper. “Y-yes oh god f-fuhh…”

The hand Marc had on your stomach worked together with your hand in his hair to bring your bodies as close as possible. He couldn’t get any closer to your cunt unless he broke his nose and for a moment he thought it might be worth it. He could feel your thighs tense a bit, and your hand grip his hair harder. You started gasping as if you’d run out of air. Part of him wished you were stronger so you could really hurt him.

“Why do you taste so–” Marc murmured against your mound before cutting himself off, going back in to slurp more from you.

Marc jerked his hand faster, the sensations surrounding him becoming too much to handle. Your scent, your taste, the way you pulled his hair, it was all driving him mad. He breathed against you, moving his tongue faster so he could hear you too. You shook, pretty voice wavering with every moan that left you. 

“Marc, you’re so g-good at this I…oh god I’m…”

Marc felt your pussy contract around his tongue, moving the tip of his nose in faster circles to make you squirm more. Your juices were coating his tongue and he felt an unimaginable euphoria burst through his mind. He panted, sounding more pathetic than he cared to acknowledge but he couldn’t help himself. You were writhing now, trying to get out from under him. He knew he should stop because, as you kept shrieking, it was ‘too much’, but he couldn’t.

Marc’s hand pushed down on you harder, and with one more sharp inhale of your delicious little cunt, he finally felt it. His orgasm washed over him like soft velvet, bringing him the sweetest relief he’d felt in ages. Marc let go of you quickly, holding his palm under himself to catch the white ropes spilling from the fat head of his twitching cock. He was loud, louder than he should’ve been, but he was sure no one would hear him, and he couldn’t keep his composure anymore.

He caught most of it in his hand, but a few stray drops landed on the floor. He would’ve just let it go, making a mess all over your bedding without care, but if the maids found out, and if even one of them breathed a word to Khonshu, it wouldn’t end well for either of you. 

Marc leaned forward, pressing another soft kiss to your pussy lips before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. For a moment you both lay there, the room filled with nothing but the sound of both your breathing returning to normal. If he could die like that by choice he would, eyes closed with his face next to your scent, your fingers idly carding through his hair. Marc sighed using his free hand to tuck his dick back in his pants before standing up on shaking legs.

“Just gonna…gonna use your bathr–”

“Wait,” you said, grabbing his wrist tightly, looking up at him with eyes that said ‘can I taste you?’

As if he could read your mind, Marc nodded, watching with mixed awe and adoration as you brought your lips to his hand. You pursed your lips into an ‘O’, sucking in and slurping his cum right out of his palm. Marc felt his cock coming alive once more, but he didn’t want to press his luck by staying in there much longer. It wasn’t only the constant looming threat of Khonshu discovering you both that frightened him, but the lack of control he might experience if he lingered in your scent for too long.

“God you…you’re something huh?” Marc asked, mouth hanging open while he watched you dart your tongue out, lapping at his palm. “F-fuck.”

Marc watched you drag your lips over each finger before lowering your entire mouth on each one, making a show of your task. You always looked so meek and innocent with Khonshu, but the way you sucked on his fingers, he could tell you were a bit more experienced than you pretended to be. You moaned as you went down on his middle finger, and before things could go any further, Marc pulled his hand from you.

“Enough,” he said coldly.

He hated that disappointed look in your eye, the one that begged for more; that begged him to stay just a little longer and to fuck your brains out. Marc zipped and buttoned his pants before darting for the window, taking off before he could change his mind. He couldn’t stop smelling your aroma on his nose all night, and he couldn’t decide if it was a good thing, or if it was just torture.

Who was he kidding? Everything about you was torture.

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[youtifulhobi]

The Last Train [PJM]

➴ Pairing: reader x Park Jimin (platonic; familial) | WC: 1.7k | Genre: angst, h/c | Rating: G (general)

➴ Warnings: grieving/grief; major character death (already happened prior to story; death is just the main theme of this fic), death (obviously)

➴ Tags: death, grief, hurt/comfort, train conductor!jimin, train!conductor reader, grandfather!jimin, grandchild!reader [gender neutral], major character death

➴ Summary: Upon the end of your grandfather's life, you seek closure and begin a life without him.

➴ Author's note: this is a very personal story. I lost my grandparent six months ago and it's all been downhill from there, but it's time for me to get up off the floor. I understand that not everyone grieves the same way I do (namely to put it into writing and publish it), but this was also written for anyone who's lost a loved one and needs comfort. Please don't yell at me for not writing something a certain way -- this was written as a form of self-comfort and serves as a goodbye to my grandparent. NOT BETA READ.

Based off the poem The Train of My Life by  Jean d'Ormesson.

Do not redistribute or plagiarise on any other platforms (including but not limited to wattpad, youtube, instagram, facebook).  I only use tumblr and AO3 as of the time of posting.  If I find my work plagiarised or redistributed without consent, I will not hesitate to take legal action.

“It’s been a pleasure, fellow Conductor.” a voice sounds near your ear, warm and comforting.

You swivel in your chair to find a familiar figure standing near the sliding door, hands clasped together in front of him. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, not bothering to hide the quaking in your voice. 

“I mean that my stop is next. That we’ll be arriving at my station soon, and it’s time for me to go.” A sad smile mars an elderly gentleman’s face, shattering the peaceful façade. 

Tears well up in your eyes and you pull the brakes as hard as you can, unwilling to go even a metre further. The train screeches to a halt, wheels groaning against the metal tracks as sparks fly from the friction between the two.

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “No, I won’t let you go.”

His smile widens further, but his eyes offer a glimpse into his true emotions. He hurts as much as you, if not more. He’s known you since you were still in your mother’s stomach, after all. Has fought for you, loved you, since the moment he learned of your existence. Has sheltered you, raised you, nurtured you, laughed with you, and wiped your tears away when you were sad.

“Grandpa, please,” you beg. “Just a little more time. Just a few minutes. That’s all I ask.”

“But a few minutes will turn into more, and then we’ll be at a standstill, my dear,” he says gently. “When it comes to those we love, even forever isn’t enough.”

Your lower lip trembles as you fight to keep a sob from escaping. He’s not wrong. In fact, that’s precisely why it feels like your heart is entrapped in a vice-like grip. “Please don’t leave me.”

“My little one,” he says simply, eyes shining with unshed tears as he lifts his arms. You don’t hesitate, crossing the short distance between you in two bounds and into his embrace. “My sweet, beautiful, kind-hearted little bird.”

He strokes your hair lovingly as you press your face into the polo shirt he loves to wear at home, the piqué fabric greedily soaking up your tears.

You hold his waist with one hand, the other resting on his back as you return the embrace. He continues to soothe you, whispering while he waits for you to collect yourself. 

“You can’t leave yet, grandpa,” you mumble into his chest. “I haven’t finished honouring my familial duties to you.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asks.

“I treated you horribly when I was a teenager. I flung your hand away every time you reached for it. I said things I wish I never said, but can’t take back. I wished terrible things on you when I thought you were being unfair. I even wished for your—”

“My little bird,” he says again, lifting your chin to meet your eyes. You look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Look at grandpa. Please.”

You do as you’re told.

“We have all done things we regret in life. Grandpa has never once blamed you for anything you did. Ah-ah,” he starts when you begin to protest. “I don’t want to hear it. You are my beloved grandchild. I don’t hold it against you. I never have, and never will, even for a second. We are all foolish when we are teenagers. You do, you regret, you learn from your mistakes, you move on. This is what grandpa has taught you. Do you remember?”

You nod meekly, tears continuing to flow down your cheeks.

“Grandpa loves you. And you love grandpa. This is what is truly important. Your actions spoke louder than your words. I know you loved me then, and you love me even more now. You have grown so much, and I am very proud of you. I know you did not truly mean what you said then. We never do when we are emotional, and you were quite angry during your teenage years, weren’t you?”

You flush at the memories that arise from his words. He chuckles lightheartedly. “Forgive an old man for his cheekiness.”

“Anything for you,” you reply simply. He beams at that, his smile wider than it has been in a long time. 

“And that, my little bird, is what I mean when I say you have a heart of gold. You have always been kind. Kind to a fault, really. You forgive and forget when you should only forgive, and people have taken advantage of your gentle nature. You are too sweet. You must learn to protect yourself. Be kind, but have a backbone. Bite back when you need to. Being magnanimous does not equate being a doormat. Be like grandpa.”

A fresh wave of grief washes over you, and you cling to him like it’s the last thing you’ll be able to do.

He rests his head on top of yours, blinking back the evidence of his own anguish as he swallows hard. It hurts him just as much to leave you, if not more, but with his earthly duties finished, he has no choice but to leave.

“There’s so much more I wanted to do with you,” you say sadly. “I just got my memories back, and you’re…I mean, our journey is ending. I wanted to reminisce with you more and ask you advice like you always wanted me to do and—”

Your voice quivers and breaks as denial finally breaks its hold over you. Your grandfather is leaving, his story continuing only through the legacy he’s left on this earth, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. No amount of begging, holding, pleading, or wails of agony will delay his departure, even if you both desperately want him to stay with you.

Your grandfather tucks a finger under your chin to peer at your face and smiles bitterly, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. You bite your lower lip, vision blurring as you sniffle. 

“I don’t want you to blame yourself for anything that’s happened in the past,” you hear him say. “The past is in the past. What’s important is how we move on from our mistakes and learn from them.”

He brings your attention to a digital clock that has begun counting down the time you have left. 15 minutes. 14:57.

You blink. 13:53. That can’t be right. You can’t have wasted one minute just staring at the bright red numbers instead of memorising every last centimetre of your grandfather’s face. No matter. You’ll regret it later. You have to make the most of what’s left.

Steeling your resolve, you pull back in your grandfather’s embrace and look at him determinedly, furrowing your eyebrows. He lets out a laugh at something only he can see, and you feel the corners of your lips quirk up at his infectious joy. You think your grandfather is the most perfect human being to exist, albeit having his flaws. He has helped countless people over the course of his life, giving advice, comfort, and financial assistance to those who needed it. He made mistakes and bumbled his way through life at times, but never once did he let his mistakes hold him back. 

He taught you to keep moving forward, even if it felt like the sky was crumbling.

You spend the rest of the time you have holding him close, murmuring your innermost thoughts and listening to his voice, not noticing when he leans over to the control panel and disengages the brakes, allowing the train to begin moving forward again.

It is only when a gentle chime sounds, echoing throughout the train, and a pre-recorded voice announces that the train has arrived at the last station that you realise your time is up.

Fresh tears well in your eyes when your grandfather squeezes your hand tightly, tugging you along to the door. Mutely, you follow him and step off the train, wrinkling your eyebrows when you see a new train on the opposite side of the platform. 

“That’s your train, little bird,” your grandfather says. “Your journey with me is over, and it’s time to take control of your own train. It has followed you the whole time you were on mine. You have a life to live, a train of yours to drive. You will have passengers that get on and get off. You may promote some to co-conductors and demote them. This is all part of the train of life.”

He pulls you to him, holding you so tight that you can’t breathe, but releases you after a moment. “Fly free, my little bird. When it’s your time, I will be waiting at your station to welcome you home.”

Tears spill over and follow a pre-ordained path down your face as you step off your grandfather’s train and onto your own. It feels wrong, but you know it’s the right thing to do. You must move on, no matter how difficult it is.

The doors are closing. Please step back. You listen to the disembodied announcer and watch, smiling through your tears, as your grandfather-less train begins to move and leave his station. His waving form grows smaller and smaller, until nothing but the darkness of a tunnel surrounds the train. You’ve officially left him behind.

Letting out a long exhale, you wipe your eyes and your nose before entering your conductor’s cabin, where you freeze.

On one of the chairs lies a framed photo of you and your grandfather, with a note on top that reads: 

To my precious little bird. I could have never asked for a better grandchild. Even if I could spend eternity with you, it would still not be enough. You are my pride and joy. Finish your duties thoroughly and leave as few regrets as possible. Do not rush through them to find me. I am an important but not the only part of your life. You still have much to look forward to. I love you. See you soon. 

As you read the second last line of his letter, your train exits the tunnel into a beautifully sunny field with his favourite flowers lining either side of the meadow. 

Momentarily blinded, you hold a hand to shield your face and squint against the sudden onslaught of light before turning your attention to the last line of the letter he left you.

Love, Grandpa (Park Jimin).

MList

“The Last Train [PJM]” is © copyright @youtifulhobi​ 2024, all rights reserved.

[usafphantom2]

IMAGES: B-52 Stratofortress lands in South Korea for the first time

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 10/17/2023 - 08:35am Military

The U.S. Air Force is celebrating the 70º anniversary of the U.S.-South Korea alliance with a huge demonstration of air power at the 2023 Seoul International Aerospace and Defense Exhibition (ADEX) this week, and a B-52H Stratofortress made a full landing on the Korean Peninsula for the first time today, according to all known reports.

Also during the exhibition, scheduled from October 17 to 22 at Seoul Air Base, USAF will exhibit eight other types of aircraft through static displays and aerial demonstrations, according to the Pacific Air Forces, including: F-22 Raptor, F-16 Fighting Falcon, A-10 Thunderbolt II, C-17 Globemaster III, C-5 Galaxy, KC-135 Stratotanker, U-2 Dragon Lady and E-3 Sentry. Other U.S. military aircraft include CH-47F Chinook, AH-64 Apache, F-35B Lightning II and E/A-18 Growler.

The famous nuclear-capable B-52 bomber carried out two overflights at the event before landing at Cheongju Airport, 140 km south of Seoul.

“These overflights, air demonstrations and static displays, including the landing of the B-52 on the peninsula, are part of our ongoing commitment to promote peace, stability and prosperity on the Korean peninsula,” Major Rachel Buitrago, director of Public Affairs of the 7ª Air Force, said in a statement.

The B-52 Stratofortress, known as BUFF, is the main cruise missile carrier of the U.S. Air Force. The H model is now the last variant of the Stratofortress, which has been in service since the 1950s.

Although the B-52 has never landed in Korea, it has carried out several recent exercises near or over the Korean Peninsula. On June 30, several B-52s from Barksdale Air Base, along with South Korean F-16, F-15E and F-35As and KF-16, conducted a joint overflight of the country.

Then, on July 13, the long-range bomber was accompanied by F-16 and three F-15K aircraft of the Republic of Korea Air Force (ROKAF) for a combined air training session over the peninsula. This exercise followed North Korea's allegations that it launched a solid-fuel intercontinental ballistic missile on July 12, capable of reaching the continental territory of the United States.

North Korea continued to carry out numerous missile launches this year, including the most recent test in September, when it fired two short-range ballistic missiles into the sea off the eastern coast.

“We still face ongoing challenges from North Korea, including its dangerous and destabilizing missile testing program, and others that would undermine the rules-based international order,” Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin said in April when he welcomed South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol who was visiting the Pentagon.

Austin and President Joe Biden pledged to intensify joint military exercises between the U.S. and South Korea, including those with nuclear-capable resources, such as strategic bombers or submarines with ballistic missiles. Last week, the aircraft carrier USS Ronald Reagan made a stopover in Busan, South Korea.

“2023 marks 70 years of alliance between the United States and the Republic of Korea - an alliance that has proved to be solid in the face of challenges over many decades. It is among the most interoperable, capable and dynamic bilateral alliances in the world," Lieutenant General Scott Pleus, commander of the Seventh Air Force and deputy commander of the U.S. Forces in Korea, said in a statement.

“We are honored to demonstrate our commitment to this partnership through our U.S. participation in Seoul's ADEX 23 as part of our ongoing commitment to promoting peace, stability and prosperity on the Korean peninsula,” Pleus added.

This biennial exhibition, the largest of its kind in Northeast Asia, presents aircraft, ground equipment, air demonstrations and attracts aviation and aerospace experts and defense personnel from all over the world.

Tags: Military AviationBoeing B-52H StratofortressKADEXROKAF - Republic of Korea Air Force/South Korea Air ForceUSAF - United States Air Force / U.S. Air Force

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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O

[monoxology]

Pelecoptera {Peleconis Pterropis} Less formally known as 'Pecos' (plural Peci), these beasts are more commonly found in rocky coastal regions of the south-east. After splitting off from other migratory Pterrors centuries ago, these pesky piscivores decided to stray from the never ending marathon to where the weather was warm and the food was plentyful. Unfortunately for everybody else living in the Citadel Dockside, they have made themselves a nuisance ever since they arrived all those years ago. Though they technically fall under the Fair Game laws, the 'Better-For-Beasts' activist group shunned any 'who's righteousness justified them hunting down an otherwise harmless creature'. This made it almost impossible for any dock-dweller to rid themselves of this pest without protesters tagging their boats for ridicule and harassing their families until the cows came home. So, these beasts (while not legally under protection) have enough wriggle room to annoy sailors and traders alike without consequence.

Pecoc are piscivores, but due to a decrease in fish and other sea dwelling creatures they have become opportunistic predators. Their main hunting method is to cling to rocky cliff faces with their heads tilted back and the ends of their antenna like tendrils dipped in the water as a wat of electrolocation. They then swoop down and grab the fish in their net like jaws, and the rest is history. Their size would make it easy for them to carry off a smaller human or monster child, though very little cases have been reported. The furthest a Pecos has ever gotten while trying to snatch a being was a few inspection bites and dragging the man a few metres before being shooed away. Don't let this intimidate you though, Pecos are generally skittish and quite docile. They are smart enough not to risk damaging their already rocky relationship with the people of the docks. Those who have enough patience (and willpower) can tame these curious creatures, some even using them as mounts. It's not uncommon for Pecos to develop an emotional attatchment to a species that is not their own, they are very intelligent creatures that have a lot of personality once you get to know one.

The males of the species have brightly coloured noses and necks, whereas the females lack this extravagance in favour of longer tendrils. Every breeding season they come together at one location to chose a new partner, though it is not uncommon for a pair to breed again if their last clutch was extremely successful. The males court by showing off their vibrant colours, spreading their wings and puffing out their chests. The female will inspect his feathers diligently, if she doesn't like the colour or if he lacks enough downy feathers she will reject him by simply flying away. If she accepts him however, she will preen him, and he will preen her back. For reuniting, pairs the process is less formal, one will simply preen the other and if the other accepts they will preen in return. The male creates a nest by plucking the white downy feathers from his chest, creating a bald spot. Not only does this create an extra warm spot for the chick to nestle against, but it signals to other Pecos that he is taken and flirting would be a waste of energy. The female lays the eggs and takes turns with the male to incubate so the other can feed and rest in peace until the chicks hatch.

Once the chicks hatch the father of the brood stays with them at all times while the mother flies back and forth delivering food. During this period the male relies on her solely for food, though if she fails to return for whatever reason he will take on her role as well as his own, though it is not usually successful.

Their downy fluff hidden beneath slick, almost skin like layer of waterproof feathers also make for great stuffings. Ethically sourced downy stuffing is expensive but worth the price. Unethically sourced downy stuffing is unfortunately much more popular and easier to find.

Pecos are a nuisance, yes, but they are intelligent, intricate species with a lot of payoff if you have the patience to get to know one.

[sabraeal]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

As I said on my first fic rec post, I have written very many fics and I love almost all of them, so I can't pick FAVORITES so much as CATEGORIES, and this category is going to be "Fics Joanna Made Me Write Outside My Comfort Zone Because It's Good For Me Or Something"

Whenever I view the moon on the battlefield This was the FIRST fic I wrote outside of ANS fandom, and if that was not already out of my usual groove enough, it's also from the POV of one of the minor characters in Hakuouki, Shimada Kai. The concept was originally conceived while I was streaming a playthrough for the obiyuki discord-- Yamazaki (our best boy) and Shimada are both spies and spend quite a bit of time off screen, so we kept running into scenes and being like "how AWKWARD is it for those two to be watching this right now?" And so when it finally came time for me to throw my hat into the yamachi ring...Joanna asked for THIS to be the fic. You know. Instead of one where Yamazaki and Chizuru actually kiss or whatever. Sigh.

The Most Perverse Creature in the World Listen. I know there are people out there who LOVE xReader fics. I'm happy for you, truly. I am not one of them. But after answering the fandom fuck/marry/kill game (otherwise known as only one bed/slow burn/enemies to lovers) with small littler blurbs about the kind of story I would write for the older gentlemen in ANS (Shidan, Lata & Haruka), SOME PEOPLE got very invested in Haruka's little enemies-to-lovers blurb. Some people made puppy eyes. Some people made puppy eyes and then got very sick after, and I AM A GOOD FRIEND and wrote ONE CHAPTER and have never known a day of peace since. Six years later it's up to thirteen chapters, has a very complicated plot involving the politics of taxing oral sex, and I've learned how to effectively write in 2nd person.

don't speak boyshit I cannot properly explain how absolutely in our heads the Maria/Kamitani pairing is, but like. It's good okay?? Joanna did not so much force me to write this one so much as like...emphatically encourage its existence, to the point where I have a very complicated outline and she routinely reminds me I'll finish it when i'm like. 50. But this is certainly the gateway fic to the OTHER fics for this pairing she DOES want to twist my arm over, SO ON THE LIST IT GOES. I am one of TWO authors in this ship tag, and also one of TWO fics...and yet this is one of my most popular non-ANS fics 🤣

If the Mind Is Willing This is a fic Joanna will HAPPILY admit to being the main driver for, since, as she puts it, "there is no one else who could possibly ever write this fic." Taking TWO very niche concepts (LARP and a SURPRISE FOR LATER) and a very niche pairing (yamachi) would perhaps not have been MY first choice...but Joanna asked for the first chapter as a birthday gift a few years back and here I am, learning a whole new tabletop system and really giving my FBI agent something to talk about at the watercooler.

He Who Studies Evil Of all the niche fics Joanna has convinced me to put to paper (or at least, word document), this is probably takes the top spot. A prequel to my obiyuki Star Trek AU, this covers events about 10 years previous, with Haruka taking over DS9 and immediately being thrown into a political nightmare when he is informed that the Cardassians are in possession of a missing human child. This took...an INORDINATE amount of time to research and write-- I hadn't seen DS9 since I was in high school, and I watched through nearly half a season just to get the timeline right-- but I still REALLY love how it came out. Which is good, because it is definitely one of my least read fics 🤣

[coconox]

honestly been going back and forth w myself on a lot of things lately attaching a read more for the sake of ik i'll be rambling like theres no tmr

a part of me wants to drop pnc but i havent really gotten everyone i wanted yet + im broke so i need to build my stash up *looks at clotho and eos* oddly enough pnc has been a game ive been pretty happy on playing still hate how i missed a login day tho tbf ive rarely borderline never interacted w the fandom so me just being in the dark w what goes on there has kinda been a blessing and a curse in a sense that i can enjoy the game in peace but it feels like im alone doing so

pgr im really REALLY tempted on dropping my glb acc, once nocti comes around which will prob be around the end of the school yr for me thats where i'd be like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ welp ig im done and drop that acc after playing around w nocti and whatev. tw im still not too sure abt?? prob when i get around to lvling up my main teams i can be like ok im done and drop that at any time since im just there to experience content ahead of time without being in cn directly

before dropping pgr entirely i do wanna complete a few stuff i had in mind tho

countdown for hyperreal which will prob happen bambi patch

still need to finish that nocti countdown for tw ive barely had any motivation completing that

nocti's bday countdown (similar to how lee's went)

glb nocti's countdown

draw every char up to latest one in cn

a few noctiskk comics thats been in the back of my head for MONTHS now

basically LOTS of countdowns and nocti stuff before i drop everything entirely

will i still draw pgr stuff after all that? mayyybeee???? itll moreso be towards kye's lore building rather than it being a standalone thing. i'll still collect merch and build up my shrines and make cosplay for chars but aside from that i'm pretty much gonna be moving on to other things

ive always had 50/50 feelings w being in the pgr fandom, tho being introduced to it on disc and then going to twt may have affected my views on this whole thing. esp when the side of the fandom i was first introduced to is like the lowest of the low, i dont want to go back to a place where a bunch of dudebro incels made fun of me for being afab and liking lee and me thinking that was a norm when it clearly isnt. its been 2 goddamn yrs and theyre still poking fun at that?? like my god grow up im so sick and tired of it.

if by a slim chance i still want to participate in being in the pgr fandom i'll just go back to lurking like ive always done in prev fandoms, if i really wanna be active in talking abt the game i'll talk abt it in servers or dms, but publicly i felt that i could never really comfortably talk abt how i feel abt it aside from here cause this site >>>>>> bc i felt like my opinions arent valid, tho that really applies to anything i do so 💀💀

pgr has been a really nice game for me to destress and detach myself from reality for a bit, tho now i wanna move on to other games and focus more on my ocs like i did back in the day. once i properly set up everyone's lore doc maybe in the future i'll make a game around them, nothing too big since i'll pretty much be making most of it, but i kinda wanna fulfill my childhood dream that was just recently unlocked

theres also that small part of me that wants to be known for my oc stuff rather than pgr stuff, but bc im not tagging w popular art tags im kinda just existing, and thats fine by me. hitting 500+ follows on twt was like peak realization of me going like "oh shit, 😨 maybe this big of a following aint for me" and it truly isnt lol

[inscrutable-shadow]

Mediwhump May Day 4 - Pain

@mediwhumpmay

This is canon-compatible with the current version of the ieiunus-verse (the current name of the universe in which my vampire stories take place) and therefore uses the main WIP tag. Thanatos is, obviously, a vampire. Born in Athens in 421 BC, he is currently working as a therapist in a modern-day city while living with his lover, the physical manifestation of Reality itself. The Archfey just thinks he's cute, and the vampire sex is a plus, too. The only content warning is I guess skip this one if you don't want to see PG-13 flirting, lol.

Thanatos was used to waking up and wishing he hadn’t. This was usually due to laziness. He would never have purported to be a hardworking sort of man, and immortality had not inspired in him any sort of work ethic. He preferred to spend his days either reading philosophy, writing his own essays, or systematically destroying the worldviews of his therapy clients, none of which he considered “work“, but rather entertainment. Today, however, he’d be unable to do any of those things. Getting out of bed was a challenge when his curse ached like this.

As much as most vampires would like you to forget it, vampirism is, in fact, a curse. Since Lord Cain Umbra had forged his contract with the Shadow on a distant planet tens of thousands of years ago, each vampire has been forced to abide by the terms of not only his original agreement, but their own contract: offer up blood and death to the Shadow in exchange for power and eternal life.

Well. Not life exactly. A vampire wasn’t technically dead, only mostly so, the natural ties that bound the soul to the body replaced by threads of dark magic. It felt just as if someone had taken real thread and stitched it throughout your body, and the pain never went away. It wasn’t as bad after four thousand years as it had been when he’d freshly turned, with the wounds on his soul just as fresh as the memory of life without pain, but it was still known to flare up from time to time. 

Why today of all days? It wasn’t as if he’d been derelict in his duty to the Shadow. He’d just hunted two days ago, and he was barely hungry. Nor could he recall any contact with high levels of light magic such as a seraph or a revenant would be able to wield: his life had been rather peaceful of late. He couldn’t ponder it any further, though, distracted as he was by the Archfey materialising under the covers next to him. It was so strange how ae did that.

“Good afternoon, slug-a-bed, if you have no pressing work to drag you from your sheets, perhaps you will consider pressing something else...?” ae whispered in his ear, and he realised ae wasn’t wearing aer robes, the coolness of aer skin granting him the smallest relief from his curse. 

As much as he wanted to make love to aer, with aer eyes like the sun and smile like the hearth, the thought of doing that much exercise made him want to lock himself into a coffin and not come out for a few hundred years. “Forgive me, my love,” his voice was faint and strained with effort. “I don’t think I’ll have the energy today…”

The Archfey’s forehead wrinkled as ae rested aer chin on his shoulder. “Are you unwell, Thanatos? Tell me what ails you. Shall I conjure blood for you? Or is the house too cool? Have you grown tired of the wallpaper or the carpeting? I can change-“

“No, my dear heart, you needn’t change the furniture. The curse is quite painful today, is all.” He wanted nothing less than for the Archfey to conjure blood for him. Even after the thousands of years they’d spent together, ae was still as bad as it as ae’d been when they met. He cupped aer cheek affectionately, trying not to focus on the edges of his soul burning. 

Ae thought for a moment, leaning into his touch. “Would... drinking my magic help?”

Thanatos shook his head. If anything, that would probably make it worse: it had just occurred to him that his close proximity to the literal manifestation of reality, a being composed of pure magic, likely disagreed with his soul stitching and caused these flares to begin with. “I just need to rest, Rea. Don’t fret over me.”

The Archfey seemed to have come to a decision. “Yes. You can drink your fill later.” Flirting with him? Now? Ae kissed him on the cheek and teleported away, leaving him to wonder what ae was up to.

Than had just started trying to go back to sleep when his lover returned clothed and bearing a tray, upon which sat a bowl of hot water and some towels. “I watched mortals do this recently. A ‘warm compress’ relieves muscle tightness and reduces pain. This will help you.” He didn’t think it would, but he thought the whole thing was adorable, so he didn’t argue.

To his surprise, as the Archfey packed the hot cloths around him, the pain receded slightly. Even if, by the end, he looked like a mummy and was just as immobile as when they’d started, he felt much better. He groaned as he relaxed into the pillows, letting the heat sink into his bones. It wasn’t as if his vampiric body was producing much of its own. 

“How is that, darling? Any better?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled with his eyes shut, already dropping off again. The Archfey smiled and tucked aerself in next to him.

Perhaps the curse wasn’t so bad after all.

Tagging @albatris because we are vampire mutuals now :) lmk if you'd rather not get tagged in ieiunusverse content!

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Updated list of headcanons about the main 4 SQ dudes

> HANK

Henry 'Hank' James Wimbleton He / Him / They / Them AMAB Heteroromantic Asexual Caucasian, 50s [Grunts age differently to humans, still considered in peak health <the Frankenstein-ing helps too>] Raised with Hunter {Skittles, older}, Heather {White, twin} and Hercules {Pink, younger} Abusive parents, physical and emotionally abusive, left with Heather when their parents kicked her out for being trans and taken in by Hunter. Clinically diagnosed as a psychopath, insomniac, autistic. They send money to Skittles to help pay for his peaceful lifestyle as a thank you for helping them as a teen. Will fight with Heather, but still loves her, very competitive since they're twins, but he's slightly stronger. Kicks Pank's ass on sight because he's an entitled princess, hostile relationship. He has a secret knack for art, and spends his down time painting animals, his trauma / memories, and horror movie icons. They also play guitar, fight with their sister, and spend time with Skittles.

>DEIMOS

Deimos Romero He / Him Transgender male, Bi Mexican+Asian american, 27 Only child Possibly ADHD (I don't know enough on ADHD to make a clear judgement) Born into the agency, adopted by Doc after his single mother died while having him, and his father was unknown. Life as a baby agent wasn't easy, but Doc managed to keep part of his brain open for free thinking so he wasn't totally brainwashed and indoctrinated. Doc helped him come to terms with being trans and helped him transition. Loves his mama even if he never met her personally, keeps her spirit alive in his own, celebrates Dia De Los Muertos and makes a nice little alter for her. Tinkers with guns and tech in his free time, as well as gaming, smoking, and going on dates with Sanford.

>SANFORD T. Sanford He / Him Cisgender, Gay African american, 32 Single mama, 5 siblings Clinically depressed The oldest of 6 kids, Fordie had a hand in helping raise his younger sibs, he puts his family before everything and everyone. Momford taught him responsibility and to be strong, she's his number 1 role model. He worked odd jobs until teaming up with a militant force, only loyal to money and nothing else, which he'd send back home to his Mom. Doc managed to come across his name a few times, and manged to tempt his favour with decent and continued payments, but over time he found himself really bonded to Deimos. He spends his free time cooking, working out, fixing up guns and working under the car, usually with Deimos. He likes to dedicate at least one day every two weeks for a date, if possible. His dog tags simply say T. Sanford, he refuses to tell almost anyone his first name, but Momford calls him Teddy, because he's big and soft like a teddy bear.

>2BDAMNED

Kyle [He doesn't use a last name to protect his identity] He / Him Cisgender, Demisexual / Sapiosexual [Attracted to intelligence above all else] Asian american, late 40s/early 50s No history known Former Nexus, met Dr. Christoff during his tenure there and became acquaintances. Left and joined the agency shortly before Phobos' death. He took a lover, Esmeralda Romero, in secret which resulted in Deimos being born. Only two people know of this fact, and one of them is dead. He doesn't have any plans to tell anyone else. Inspired to fight back against dictators, he's of the mindset that everyone is out to use you for some purpose, and you have to look out for yourself, and what few people you can trust. Ultimately he wants to protect Nevada and eventually restore it to some sense or normalcy, as impossible as a task as that seems. He raised Deimos from birth, teaching him how to take care of himself, knowing that he's a marked man, and many want him dead. He loves Deimos as his son, respects Sanford for his hard and loyal work, and trusts Hank will do as commanded.

His list of trusted people is small, and his list of friends is even smaller.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

so, since this has worked in the past, I thought I’d ask again…

send me the name of a WIP and I’ll share a piece of the story 😁

you can take a look at the Masterlists to see what they are and if you’d like to let me know which one you’d want to read I’d love that 😊 (I’m also putting the WIPs below the [Keep Reading] tag if you don’t want to go masterlist through masterlist)

Masterlists:

Stranger Things

Marauders Era

Golden Trio Era

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

How Will I Know [CHAPTER 3]

You have walked the halls of Hawkins High unseen. If it wasn’t because Eddie Munson and his Hellfire Club had found you, you probably wouldn’t even have any friends. You knew someone like your all-time crush Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington wouldn’t notice you in a million years. Until you get paired up for a project and he finally learns your name.  

With Or Without You

You dive into the Lover’s Lake before anyone can stop you and come back to tell everyone about the Watergate. But then, something pulls you back to the Upside Down and all you can see are bats around you so you feel like this is the end. Until you suddenly see Steve Harrington coming back for you and saving you. (mixing three similar requests)

You Keep Me Hanging On

When you go to the Upside Down, you start noticing how Steve is acting towards his ex-girlfriend. He doesn’t seem to think that anything is wrong until he notices a certain metalhead paying you more attention than he is. (kind of mixing some similar requests)

Never Tear Us Apart

It has been a long time since Billy died. It has been even a longer time since he and you had broken up. You are moving on with Steve and you have never been happier. So why are you getting headaches, nightmares, and seeing things that aren’t there?

How Sweet It Is

Your favorite part about working at Scoops Ahoy is working with your crush; Steve Harrington. Everything was going normally one day until you see the next customer in line is your ex-boyfriend with his new girlfriend and Steve noticed.  

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

You knew Steve Harrington was a lot of things. Handsome, brave, smart, funny, caring, etc. You could have listed a million things to describe him, but there is one word you never thought would fit him: clingy.

Eddie Munson

There Are Worse Things I Could Do [CHAPTER 3]

[Harrington!Reader] Your senior year was supposed to be the best one in your life. But when Jason broke up with you, and turned the entire school against you by spreading rumors about you, you can count with your hand the people that talk to you. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Nancy, and Robin. But there might be a new one you can add to the list. One you never thought possible. Eddie Munson.

Don’t You Forget About Me

You have never been in detention. You feel as if this is the worst of your life, until you meet someone there that might make detention just bearable. (mixing two requests)

I Wanna Dance With Somebody

Eddie has always known that one of the main reasons why he fell in love with you is because you are the most opposite to him he can think of. So why is that now one of the things that is making him feel insecure about his relationship with you?

Argyle

(500 Miles) [CHAPTER 3]

[Hopper!Reader] After moving to California with your sister and you new family, you think maybe you’ll finally get some peace. But, of course, you are now driving across the country in your boyfriend’s pizza van, on your way back to Hawkins.

Take A Chance On Me

You have been in love with your best friend since you can remember, but you’ve never had the courage to tell him, fearing he might not feel the same. However, when you confide in Jonathan, he convinces you to finally take the leap.

A Kind Of Magic

Bullies are something you’ve had to deal with your whole life. You try to ignore it and not let it bother you. But the moment your boyfriend sees how people made fun of you, he immediately intervenes and stands up for you. (Warning: reader gets bullied for having a learning disability)

Perfecta

When you go over to your best friend’s house after breaking up with your boyfriend, you get more than you were expecting.

Buttercup

Sequel to Build Me Up, Buttercup

Robin Buckley

I Think We’re Alone Now

Every time you come into Family Video, you go and talk to Steve. Robin feels heartbroken, thinking you’re just another girl that has a big crush on him. Little does she know, it’s his very cute co-worker you have your eye on.

Steddie (Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson)

Edge Of Seventeen

Against your boyfriends’ wishes you decide it’s what’s best for everyone if you are the bait for Vecna. You you stay back in the attic with Max and Lucas. Steve and Eddie try to make it back as quickly as they can but it might be too late. (Warning: reader is cursed by Vecna and gets hurt)

Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now

Everyone in your group could feel the sexual tension between you, Steve and Eddie. Which is probably why they all ganged up and planned to have the three of you share a bed to see if you would finally admit your feelings.

Love Stinks

When you get stood up by your date Steve and Eddie come to pick you up at a bar after a few drinks. They think that you are upset because of the date but the main reason is not what they were expecting at all.

**********************************************

Harry Potter [Marauders Era]

Sirius Black

Just Give Me A Reason [CHAPTER 5]

[Snape!Reader] Coming back for another year in Hogwarts meant you and your brother were away from your worst tormentor. But when your school tormentor finds out about it, things are about to change and you are not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. (Warning: mentions of abuse)

Dog Days Are Over

Ever since you can remember, dogs have always hated you. They bite you, they make you fall down, they hurt you, and you became terrified of them. So why is this big black dog making you feel incredibly safe and happy, proving to be the exception of y our bad luck.

Lover

[Potter!Reader] Being in a secret relationship with your brother’s best friend was not something you exactly planned. But now, that it’s been months and your brother is starting to get suspicious, you have no idea how to tell him without him wanting to kill Sirius. (Might be related to Style)

Can’t Buy Me Love

Sirius has always notice that you never buy anything when you go to Hogsmeade. He also noticed how much you stare at a specific dress in Gladrags Wizardwear so he decides to get it for you.

Remus Lupin

Too Good At Goodbyes [CHAPTER 6]

Twelve years ago, Lily and James Potter were brutally murdered. Twelve years ago, Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. Twelve years ago Remus Lupin left you to take care of a one-year-old Harry on your own. Twelve years ago Severus Snape was the only person who was there for you. And now, Remus is back to teach at Hogwarts with you, as Harry courses his third year, and Sirius Black escaped Azkaban.

**********************************************

Harry Potter [Golden Trio Era]

Fred Weasley

Bad Liar [CHAPTER 5]

Coming back to Hogwarts for your sixth year didn’t start as you expected when you have to witness your ex-boyfriend parade around as one of the champions with his new girlfriend. While you’re in a party that your house threw, you’re fed up with listening to him talking about his new relationship and to have a guy you have no interest in pining over you. So, you do the first thing you could think of. You kiss Fred Weasley.

Right To Be Wrong Series: Lego House

[Malfoy!Reader] A series of related one-shots in different times looking at the relationship between a Weasley and a Malfoy.

Charlie Weasley

She Is Love

Charlie loves to make you blush and nervous because he knows you have a crush on him and he has a crush on you, but he doesn’t like it when someone else makes you blush or nervous.  

I’m Yours

Even if you’ve been friends with the twins forever, your boyfriend Charlie still feels a little bit jealous of how close you are with his two younger brothers.  

Bill Weasley

The Closest Thing

Bill falls in love with his little brothers’ best friend but he is certain that she would not feel the same after seeing him with his werewolf scars.      

Theodore Nott

Smile  [CHAPTER 3] 

You have always found Theodore Nott to be a very interesting person. And when he asks you to tutor him in Herbology, you realize he is also a very sweet person. There is only one thing that you’re missing and that you’re dying to see. You want to see him smile.

**********************************************

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Absolutely

You know today is a very special day for Spencer, and you try to do everything you can to show him how much you care about him. However, your plan backfires when Spencer feels overwhelmed and takes his anger out on you.

[poorks]

The RP-verse

Since May of 2023 my partner and I have been doing a large set of roleplays in an alternate fantasy universe using 90% of the existing poorks characters + a handful of originals. The lore has gotten kind of sprawling so this is my attempt to summarize the world + the mainline roleplay all in one place.

You can find individual character stuff by going through the #rpverse tag or individual character tags + #rpverse

This world contains three realms: The Heavens, where the empyrean reside, the Abyss, a place of darkness and power-hungry monsters, and the Realm of Mortals sandwiched in between.

The Empyreans are powerless without the devotion of the mortals. Existence between the realms is an exchange of praise and offerings from the people and boons from the Empyreans and their great power.

Abyssal creatures feed off of the people and their own duality. They lure people into their depths to trap and transform for their own benefit.

Magic in the Mortal realm comes from the boundaries of the three realms. Energy seeps through as an element that bodies can channel and redirect to their will as magic. It's well known among scholars of magic that a pregnant person is the most adept at channeling this energy, and their magical power is often much greater than it would have otherwise been. To be a proper witch requires a sacrifice of the body that often is a pregnancy because of the boon it offers.

Over a thousand years ago, the Empyreans fought a civil war on the soil of the Mortals to overthrow the Goddess Vivi, Goddess of Strength and Order, who guided the mortals through an age of war, conquest, and total control. Her guidance was brutal, but great power was rewarded to those at the highest places so long as they remained loyal to her. The Empyrean Lotte, a knight of Vivi, threw down her helmet and declared war to end Vivi's grip on the bitter hearts of men. Some say the warring truly began when Vivi had her mortal lover killed. The war was long and brutal, and mortal armies fought each other to the death on the behalf of the Heavenly ideals.

The war ended when Vivi was cast down into the Realm of the Mortals, never to return home again. Lotte took her place as the Goddess of Cycles, and Vivi lived in seclusion as the Goddess of Vengeance, her body corrupted in monstrous ways from her abuse of both Empyrean and Abyssal power.

With the end of this war began an era of peace known as the Era of Maidens, for the warring never truly ended. Vivi came to want more than control over the mortals, she wanted absolute control over the three realms to mold as she saw fit. She would create monsters to terrorize the people, to make them lose faith in their Goddess, but Lotte would send Heroes to defeat them through chosen Mortals.

Those chosen to bear her hero are called Maidens.

Every hundred years a new Maiden is chosen to bear a Hero. And every time Vivi tries to tempt the Maiden with her own power, to lure them in to birth a monster with the blood of the Abyss and men. Sometimes she is victorious.

The Era of Maidens had been going on so long it was ingrained in the culture by the time the main story starts. Winnie, a nun in an abbey dedicated to the Goddess, discovers she is the next Maiden and must go on the Maiden's journey across the continent to the Table of the Gods in the Holy Land, the only place where she will be able to give birth. Assigned to her is a knight, Missy, who feels the owes the Goddess eternal devotion after Lotte made her into a woman after fervent prayer.

Of course Vivi wishes to thwart their journey and corrupt Winnie into birthing her own children instead. The two are inextricably linked; as Winnie grows, Vivi and her power also grow, and Vivi will use her influence and devotees to do all she can to have Winnie for herself and ruin the world's faith in the Goddess.

Along the way there's many side characters and side stories, like Sylvain and Victoire as Heroes that did their duty but stayed in the Mortal Realm as immortals, Manju as a corrupted Maiden that has remained loyal to Vivi, and other eccentric and horny fantasy versions of characters.

[luuxxart]

some people just don’t like noodles i guess.

[noforkingclue]

Small idea that can do in multiple different directions depending on where you want to go with this. Reader is friends with Peter and Mary, she ends up becoming a spiderman (I know it's not a species.) She has a crush on Doc ock and it never bothered her because she was a normal human. But now she has to help Peter fight which means spending more and more time around Doc ock. Eventually Peter and Mary start noticing you're getting more depressed and almost reluctant to help him.

Ok, I couldn't help but start writing this as soon as you sent in the ask! My love for Doc Ock (and the original three Spiderman films) has been renewed so please send in more requests!

Title: Taking a Break

Marvel tag list: @geocookie21, @greeneyedblondie44, @purebloodwitch

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @imjustassaneasyou

At first it was something you could easily manage. Just a small, normal crush that you could brush away and pretend never existed. Oh if only your life was ever that simple. You should’ve known that hanging around with Peter would lead to an adventurous life but you didn’t expect it taking this turn.

If you were being completely honest, you weren’t entirely sure how you managed to get the same powers as Peter. All you remembered was a sharp pain on your shoulder, Peter crying out your name and you falling unconscious. When you regained consciousness you saw Peter’s worried face hovering above yours and him stuttering out how sorry he was for getting your dragged into this mess.

And part of you did resent him a small bit. You didn’t want these powers, to have the Daily Bugle smearing you at every good deed the two of you tried to do and to constantly have to protect your identity. But then there were moments that made you reconsider your views on your powers. When you were able to web-sling high above the city and enjoy the peace, even for a moment. Or when you heard the public cheer you and Peter on after a particularly difficult battle. Knowing that you had the support of at least some of the public made everything worthwhile.

Well, almost everything. Your new found status as a hero and ally to Spiderman had launched you straight into the view of all his enemies but there was one you always seemed to fight alone. Doc Ock. If there was anyone you’d want to fight least it was him. You’d rather go one on one with the Green Goblin than him.

Alright, so maybe your past feelings hadn’t entirely disappeared and maybe the more time you spent fighting him the… closer the two of you had become. The original harsh words you used to throw to each other had long since disappeared and had turned into something akin to flirting. Well, if you counted throwing large pieces of the city at you as flirting then definitely!

The more time you spent fighting him the more you didn’t want to. You knew that deep down (very deep down) Doc Ock wasn’t a bad man. Peter would be horrified if he knew and to be honest, you half expected that he already did. The concerned looks he gave you after each battle with him. Peter telling you to take nights off and leave the fighting up to him. At times you were so tired that you agreed and let Peter take over for a couple of days. Even MJ was beginning to notice your exhaustion and depression, constantly distracting you and talking about random things. It was nice to have some time off and forget about things for a while, even if it was just for a short time.

However, all good things must come to an end which was how you ended up in your current predicament. It was pouring with rain and you were pinned against a brick wall high up about New York City. You tried to glare from behind your mask but you knew that it had no effect on the man in front of you. You struggled against the metal tentacles but all that did was to cause them to press harsher against you. You gasped for air as Doc Ock smirked and then from behind your mask you locked eyes with him.

And everything stood still.

It was as though the traffic below the two of you had disappeared. The only sound was the constant fall of the rain as it soaked through your costume and into your skin. You knew that it was going to be a pain to peel off later but right now that shouldn’t have been your main concern. What your mind should’ve been focused on was the strange look that Doc Ock was giving you. It was as though he had just realised the position you were in. He took a step towards you, his metal arms still keeping you in place, as his hands rested against your shoulders.

Even through the icy rain you could feel his body heat as he pressed against you. His hands moved slowly around your neck and you swallowed thickly in fear. Doc Ock smirked at your reaction and he leant in and whispered,

“I’m not going to kill you just yet.”

You shuddered as his hot breath ghosted through your costume. As he pulled back his fingers grazed along the seam of your mask and you jumped in panic. He couldn’t unmask you, you wouldn’t allow your secret identity and just clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“If I wanted to find out who you are,” he said, “I’d want it to be a challenge. You unfortunately didn’t put up much of a fight tonight.”

Instead he slowly peeled your mask until it was just under your nose. You gasped in the cool air as he traced his thumb along your lips. His gaze dropped to your lips as he pressed the pad of his thumb against them.

“Things had been so boring without you around,” he said as he leant closer, “Don’t be away for so long next time.”

Before you had time to react he leant down and pressed a bruising kiss against your lips. You stiffened as he pushed you harshly against the brick wall. He smirked as he playfully nipped at your lips and you gasped in shock. As quickly as it had happened he broke the kiss leaving you slightly disappointed. You blinked behind your mask, you shouldn’t be disappointed that the man who tried to kill you and your friends had stopped kissing you.

“Next time,” said the Doctor as the metal tentacles released you, “Be around. You’ll find that I’ll be a lot less gentle if I have to come and find you myself.”

As he disappeared into the night you slumped against the wall and slid onto the floor. Having him coming to find you certainly was a tempting offer. Maybe you’ll have to take a break more often.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I don't want to add more to op's post, so here:

IIRC, there's not really an *explicit* rejection from Edith to Alan, right? He never confesses, she's never put in a position where she has to shoot him down. Admittedly this isn't the part of the film I paid most attention to, but it felt to me that this was a truth unspoken but known by both: that Alan is in love with her, and that Edith doesn't reciprocate. And that's something they seemed at peace with, with the two of them capable of still carrying a close friendship.

Also, It's been a long time since I read Jane Eyre, but the m/f/m triangle is of far bigger narrative importance than in Crimson Peak. I'd even hesitate to call Alan-Edith-Thomas a triangle; there's always a measure of reciprocation in those, "phases" where one gets attention and then the other does, some (usually illusory) semblance that both options have a chance... none of the above is present in Alan/Edith. That one is a mere case of unrequited love, and not at all the focus of the plot.

(hell even if you considered it a love triangle, it's far from being the main love triangle in the film, but that's another story xD)

I also get the point op was trying to make about love triangles and that it was meant to be broader than just CPeak, I guess, but I fundamentally disagree with the point anyway. I think someone being too boring and unexciting from the female lead's perspective is good enough reason for her to refuse to settle for him, even if the other option is straight up Bluebearding her LOL. And it certainly can be thematically interesting and fitting for a story, if written well. There might be examples where it wouldn't be, but IMO CPeak isn't one of them.

Agreed on all points, especially that I don't consider Edith/Thomas/Alan a love triangle where Edith has to Choose A Man. She's not in love with Alan. He was never in the running. That's confirmed in the character bios, but even in canon she never shows any romantic interest in him.

And it's true that OP wasn't talking about CPeak specifically, so I probably shouldn't have harped on that much. but I disagree with their central thesis, which seemed to be "there has to be something Wrong with a rejected suitor to justify the female lead's rejection of him, or it's weak writing."

If you prefer the way Jane Eyre did it, just say that? Something that's not to your personal taste isn't necessarily Bad, Full Stop.

(I also just. get so sick of the whole "Edith should have chosen Alan!!! he's right there and he's soooooo nice!!! this is proof that she's stupid and/or the movie is badly written!!!!" take that pops up in the CPeak tag sometimes. and I may have let that get the better of me in laser-focusing on one example rather than OP's overall thesis. that, I freely admit)

(But also like. Moulin Rouge "BECAUSE SHE DOESN'T LOVE YOU".gif, except with "you" scratched out and "Alan" written above it)

("Woman Doesn't Get With Perfectly Nice Male BFF Because Attraction Is Capricious, But He's Not Resentful Jerk About It And Instead Provides A Rare Example of Platonic Love- In An M/F Friendship, No Less! -Helping To Save The Day" might be a story OP doesn't find compelling, but I sure as hell do in this context)

[elen-aranel]

Chanced Chapter 4: Starbase 90

Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: the gravity generators fail. a kiss. these two things are not related WC: 4k Taglist: @fzziiee​  (if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know <3) Notes: There comes a time in every Starfleet Officer’s life where they have to help prevent a crime even though they’re not on duty. This is one of those times. Rating: Mature for moments in later chapters Summary: “We have got to stop meeting like this.” You turn, and there’s Chris, with the corner of his mouth lifted in that expression that’s so familiar, so him, even though you haven’t seen it in a long while. Your smile turns into a grin.

< Previous Chapter • Masterlist • Next Chapter >

Starbase 90, 2247

Starbase 90 is good for art. There’s a large gallery and museum, over a few decks: about half given over to a permanent exhibition, and half for temporary installations.

Starbase 90 is also good for sheltering from ion storms.

You’re on your way back to the Cooper from Casperia Prime, where your parents celebrated a big wedding anniversary. Penny and Cameron were there too, with Penny’s parents and other family friends. You had a lovely time playing beach games, swimming, hiking, and occasionally getting to sunbathe with a book. You even got to stop by Starbase 58 on your way back, and had fun catching up with some of your old colleagues, congratulating Garcia on her promotion to base commander.

You had a little too much fun, actually; you had the storm forecast, but you missed the window between storms that you were hoping to hit. But you don’t mind; an ion storm is a great reason to extend your holiday a day longer.

You’ve been to the permanent part of the gallery a few times before, so today you’re in an exhibit called Living Gothic, which bills itself as an ‘exploration of Terran Romanesque and Gothic architecture through the lens of the natural world’. You skipped the rest of the artist’s note when you got to the word synergy, but you’re surprised how much you like the feel of walking through the evenly spaced trees which draw your eye up into a holographic vaulted canopy. Nature and design are juxtaposed, with branches fanning out, splitting, and crossing with perfect evenness, but still retaining their natural look somehow. Some of the trees are carved in spiral and criss-crossing patterns, and the lower branches between them meet in pointed arches. Even the arches are carved into detailed patterns: zigzags, tiny loops and swirls, even stylised versions of natural shapes like leaves and petals.

You’ve never been to a real Gothic building, but you think, as you walk, enjoying the feeling of simulated sunlight filtering through the trees, that perhaps next time you’re on Earth you might transport to Europe and see one of the few that are left.

You’re alone in the exhibit; the gallery is large, and this is by a young artist you’ve never heard of before. In the main hall, a deck above, there’s a retrospective of the famous Andorian artist Thurev which is attracting most of the visitors, and that’s fine by you. The quiet is peaceful.

Holographic blossom is falling around you along with a few green leaves, and you find yourself smiling dreamily as you watch it. The temperature has warmed since you got into the room, you can hear birdsong and see movement in the canopy, and you think the exhibit must be getting toward spring.

“We have got to stop meeting like this.” You turn, and there’s Chris, with the corner of his mouth lifted in that expression that’s so familiar, so him, even though you haven’t seen it in a long while. Your smile turns into a grin.

“Randomly on starbases? I’ll promise never to visit another if you won’t.” You step up and give him a hug, relishing the closeness, the feel of his strong arms around you, however briefly.

“Deal,” he says, as you step back and examine each other. You notice the pips on his badge; he is a full commander now. He looks good �� he always looks good – but he looks settled. Happy. Not like the last time you met. “I like the blue on you,” he says, touching your hair briefly. “So, you’re avoiding the ion storm too?”

“Thanks. It was darker, but the sun on Casperia – it faded. And yeah, missed the window… I’m not risking Lizzie in it. How about you? How’s being a commander?”

“Rewarding. The Enterprise is halfway through a five-year mission. Being out there, on the edge of known space… there’s nothing like it. But she’s undergoing maintenance at Deep Space 4, and Captain April insisted I take leave. I’m en route to Earth to visit my horses.” He winks. “And parents.”

You chuckle. “I’d ask you to give them my best, but—”

“My mom knew, you know.” He offers you his arm and you take it, walking together through the trees. “You aren’t a science officer. My ex was.”

“Damn. I hope you didn’t get in trouble.”

“No, she understood. She liked you.”

“In that case, do pass on my good wishes. Shall we?” You gesture along a path leading to another room.

“That one’s called Arachnophilia. No thank you.” Chris shudders theatrically.

“Ugh. Yeah, I’m not a fan of spiders either. I should really check what the exhibits are ahead of time, but I quite like just finding things.”

“You saw the Thurev, though? Stunning work. I was there until it closed for environmental re-normalisation.” Chris guides you along a different path, between two rows of trees, just wide enough for you to walk abreast, joining in semicircular arches over your head. The falling blossom is gone, but in its place holographic flowers are blooming on the path and at the base of the trees, and fresh green leaves are unfurling on the branches.

“Not today, but the Cooper actually delivered the exhibit to the base a couple of months ago. We got to see it after it was all set up. The environmental requirements… my quarters are two decks above the cargo bay, but I was freezing the entire time we were carrying it. I think that might have coloured my perception but it’s not my favourite work. I do get it, though. The open landscapes? I understand why they’re so highly regarded.”

“I always forget that you’re an officer. I don’t—that’s not an insult, by the way. I’m sure you’re good; I just struggle to picture it.”

The corner of your mouth lifts. “I had you pegged as Starfleet from the moment I first saw you. You were in civvies but… the bearing. You had Starfleet written all over you. That’s not an insult, either.”

You turn out of the narrow aisle you’re in into a larger one, with what looks like an ornate stained-glass window at the end, branches forming different sections. But when you look closer you realise it’s actually a viewport out onto the ion storm, which is sparkling in blue and purple filaments, with the occasional orange flash when the storm hits the station’s shields. There are smaller holographic windows on the wall, but around them trees appear to stretch out indefinitely.

“Why are you—”

You both freeze. There, outside, silhouetted against the storm, is someone in an EV suit, climbing past the edge of the viewport. And before you can properly react there’s a bright flash, the lights go out, the holos switch off, and emergency lighting switches on. You hear the bang of the doors shutting, and you lose gravity.

When you were a child, you secretly loved when the gravity generators went out. You loved floating around the ship, like you were flying. That love became less secret the day you got caught messing with them, though, and it was the last time you did because being on cleaning duties for a month after that was no fun at all.

You still feel that exhilaration now though, as you take a slow breath in, then blow out sharply, sending you and Chris floating back toward a tree.

“Computer, status? What happened to the gravity?” Chris says, sounding very much the commander.

“Starbase 90 is experiencing technical difficulties as a result of the ion storm. Some artificial gravity generators are offline. Please make your way to a safe area and wait for gravity to be restored. A safe area is one—”

“Computer, cancel. Did you recognise that EV suit? It didn’t look like a Starfleet design to me.”

“I only caught a glimpse, but it might have been one from a civilian ship? It was a similar colour to the ones Lizzie came with, but it looked newer.”

You grab hold of the tree now you’re close enough, breaking a few twigs free which float away into the shadows. The gallery has well and truly lost its magic without the holo effects, bare trees looking stark in the dim light.

Chris lets go of you, grabbing a different tree. “Either way, I don’t think losing grav was a coincidence. Commander Pike to ops.”

“Communications are offline.”

“That figures. Computer, reroute through the backup data network and retry.”

“You are not authorised to make that request.”

“Computer, try communication through the backup ODN. Authorisation Pike rho delta phi.”

“You are not authorised to make that request.”

“It’s not going to let you, Chris. Museum systems won’t accept anyone’s authorisations now, apart from commanders and above assigned to the facility.”

“Why the hell not?” You don’t think you’ve heard him annoyed before, and you’re glad it isn’t aimed at you.

“There was that heist at the Museum of Lunar Exploration in New Berlin… about three years ago? The identical twin of a fleet officer got her command codes, and the computer couldn’t tell that it wasn’t the officer herself using them, even though she was on the other side of the quadrant at the time. After that they updated the computer in places like this so it’s on read only mode for everyone. It’s in case something like that happens again, or if an officer gets disgruntled with the fleet…” You pull out your communicator, to see if there’s anything you can do with it.

“And now we can’t inform ops that there are intruders on the station.”

“Yeah… that was an oversight. None of the channels I can use on my comm are working, either, but I can’t tell if that’s the ion storm.” You sigh. “I just hate to think whoever’s out there could get away with important artworks on our watch, especially after I protected them on the Cooper. Station sensors wouldn’t have the resolution to detect someone out there. Not with the storm, and not if they didn’t even know to look.” You shove your communicator back in your pocket, nearly missing and losing it in the zero-G. Station security on the base is good, you’re sure, but they’ll be blindsided with the main gallery closed already.

“We might be able to send a message if we could get to one of the ODN nodes directly. Tip off station command.” He frowns. “I hate zero-G. Makes me feel ill after a while.”

“That’s a good idea. And I’ll handle it – I’ve always enjoyed when the grav was out, ever since I was a kid. Morse code should work.”

“Will you be able to open the panel? I’ll wait on the ground.”

“Yeah. It shouldn’t be a problem.” You push off, and you can’t resist showing off a little: you execute a slow somersault through the air. The freedom feels good though, and you judge your angle almost perfectly, easily grasping the panel you need. It’s a quick job to pop it off but you sigh a little regretfully as you have to let it float away; you hope it won’t damage anything when gravity is restored. It’s harder to work with the components of the ODN sub-processor in with no gravity to hold you down or push against, but you access the backup signal processor and send your message.

You push off from the wall above the closed door, and it’s like flying as you arc toward where you can just make out Chris at the base of a tree overlooking the viewport. He’s chosen somewhere sensible for when the gravity comes back on, you think, as you manoeuvre yourself to join him.

Now there’s nothing left to do but wait.

“All done?”

“Yeah. They should have received the message… I’m sure station security will be all over it.”

“I thought if we wait here we might be able to see something but… it’s a long shot. At least we’ve tried.”

“Yeah.” You try to adjust your position, to get comfortable. It’s hard, just having to hold on, but you need to maintain a position near the floor. Chris seems to be doing a bit better.

“Mind if I ask you a question?” Chris’ eyes are curious, his face highlighted blue by the ion storm outside.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I’ve never seen you in uniform. Even though whenever we meet it’s on a Federation starbase. Why is that?”

You tilt your head, feeling your brow furrow as you try to articulate your reply. “I chose Starfleet,” you say, after a few moments. “I believe in Starfleet. And…” you shrug. “I’m in security. It’s not impossible that I will give my life for it before I’m done, and that’s fine. But I think it started because… it was them and us, when I was a child. The fleet, versus merchants, civilians. On bases especially. So when I was on leave, meeting with civilian family and friends, I wanted to be on their side. Part of their us.”

You smile, softly. “I used to have to make a conscious effort to drop my Starfleet demeanour, you know? That first summer, at the end of my first year of the academy, I still thought I was all that, but I really wasn’t, and my friends let me know it.” You remember how special you’d felt, being a cadet, and then how badly you’d been ribbed for it.

“But now… it’s a reminder, as much as anything else, that Starfleet is not all of who I am. If I get injured, if all of this goes away… There’s still a me under the uniform, and it would be hard, but I would be fine. When I’m on leave I want to reconnect with that part of me. Does that make sense?”

Chris looks thoughtful. “Yes, it does,” he says eventually. “Nearly everyone I know off Earth is in the fleet or thinks of me as an officer first. But on Earth… Well. Even a lot of people on Earth. But in a bar in Mojave… yeah. I’d be in civvies there.”

You nod. “You get it. So, your leave: bar in Mojave? Or will you spend your entire time riding and eating chicken tuna sandwiches?”

“You remembered,” he says, surprised, blue eyes locking with yours in the dim light. The moment stretches, and you find yourself wanting to reach out to him. Then he grins, breaking the spell. “But why do I get the feeling you think the idea’s disgusting?”

“I haven’t tried them… but also, I’m not going to. I’m particular.”

“Oh now that’s fighting talk…”

“Fighting is literally my job, you know. I can take you.”

“Can you,” he says, and it doesn’t sound like a question, but before you can think you’re slipping the short distance down to the ground.

“Oof. Gravity is a good sign, I guess,” you say, dusting bits of tree bark off your hands.

“Yes, I think so.” Chris is looking very Starfleet as he walks over to the viewport to take a look out. “Commander Pike to ops.”

“Commander Sevik here, Commander.” Something relaxes inside you as you hear the reply.

“Did you get our message? Did you detect intruders in the gallery?”

“Yes, we did. We have apprehended a team of four would-be thieves, and they are secure in our brig. We have disabled the device they used to disrupt gravity and communications, and expect to have main power back online within the next three minutes. Thank you for your assistance, Commander.”

“That’s very good to hear. Pike out.” He turns to you. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.”

The station is busy like it always is during a storm, but you detect an extra frisson in the crowd today. An extra excitement, with the gravity having failed. As you wend your way along the promenade, following Chris’ lead, you pick up scraps of conversation. People speculating about what might have happened. No one saying anything about an attempted heist yet though.

He turns off into a bar full of Starfleet officers, mostly in uniform. You think some of the crew of the Cooper were talking about this place when you were here with the Thurev paintings, but you’d stayed on duty on the ship because you knew you had a longer leave coming. It’s busy, but there’s breathing room.

“The storm special,” Chris says, carefully placing two glasses of a clear liquid on the small table and sitting on the stool opposite to you. “You have to come here during a storm to get it, and they don’t even advertise it at other times. I think you’ll like it.”

“What’s special about it?”

“Try it,” he says, raising his glass and watching as you mirror him. Flavour bursts across your tongue: bright notes of lemon-lime citrus and mint.

“Nice,” you say, putting your glass back down as he does. “Refreshing.”

“Now here’s the special part.” He flicks a nail against his glass, and the liquid changes, purple and blue tendrils spiralling out through the whole drink.

“It’s just like the storm,” you grin, pleased.

“Your turn,” he says, raising his glass to his lips, taking a sip. You tear your eyes away from his mouth – how did you get so distracted? – and you flick your glass. The effect is just as pretty for you, but your eyes widen as you taste it. Now it’s warm and fruity, blueberries and burnt sugar. A completely different drink.

“That’s—wow. You’re right. I do like it,” you watch as your drink goes clear again. “Thank you.”

It’s all too easy to drink, too. You get a couple of refills as you talk about space weather and the worst storms you’ve seen. You tell Chris about the time your parents were carrying perishable medical supplies when you were ten and you braved a level seven ion storm in the Pemberley. He tells you about a storm rolling in over the Mojave Desert, striking a tree and spooking Mary Lou enough that she bolted.

“We were lucky she wasn’t injured. I had to go to school the next day, but dad had her checked out by the vet. She was fine. Mom was mad that she was able to get out in the first place. We hadn’t had her all that long.” Chris smiles at the memory.

“Speaking of your mom I meant to ask, how’s your cousin? Still happily married?”

Chris grimaces a little. “I don’t know about happily… that’s not really Charlotte’s style. But I—she’s satisfied. She feels important, and I think that’s enough for her. And Matthew… well. He loves her, and you know what it’s like in the fleet. He knows he’s lucky to have a partner.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “So… has there been a partner for you? Since Alice?”

Chris swirls his drink, turning it purple. “No. I… I’m not going to try long distance again. And I outrank nearly everyone on the ship; not that there is anyone there, but even if there were it wouldn’t feel right. My captain makes it work, but Sarah is the chief medical officer. She can relieve him of duty if she needs to. There is this gorgeous girl that I’ve met a few times, now, but…” he tilts his head. Is he talking about you? But he continues. “Is there someone for you? On the Cooper?”

 “I’m pretty much a nun these days.” You list off on your fingers. “It’s either you say you’re going to make it work but distance and career choices kill it;”—Chris nods, he knows that one—“or you’re in each other’s pockets the whole time, things move too quickly and next thing you know he’s planning to ship you off to Earth or somewhere to have his babies while he stays in space having fun; or it ends badly and you’re trapped together in a metal bubble in the unforgiving vacuum of space and you can’t get away from each other. I’ve seen friends with benefits work for other people, but I’ve given up. Almost.”

“Almost?”

The alcohol makes you brave, but there are some things it’s worth being brave about. “Well, it could also be a really hot guy that you like and respect and think you could have a bit of fun with, but you only see him once every few years and the timing hasn’t worked out…” you tip your drink to him, making eye contact as you drink a mouthful, relishing the caramel fruit flavour.

“Fun, eh?” Chris raises a questioning eyebrow, but before you can reply—

“Pike? Is that you? How’ve you been?” You turn, and there’s an officer there, same rank as Chris, with dark receding hair cropped short, smiling widely. Something about him strikes you, though you’re not sure quite what. Something about how he stands, how he looks in his uniform… is different, perhaps.

“Leland! What are you up to? What was it, Cassia II last time?”

“We were finding those drill bugs for weeks afterward. Did a number on our plasma conduits. But who’s your friend? Let me buy you a drink. What are you—”

Chris makes introductions, darting you an apologetic glance as Leland shakes your hand then launches right back into a reminiscence from a previous meeting. Your communicator makes a noise.

“Ops to the pilot of the Lizzie Bennet,” a harassed voice says – it wasn’t your job but you’ve had to do this in a pinch on Starbase 58 before; you know the tone that says there isn’t time to look up names. “The ion storm has cleared, and your assigned departure window is in half an hour. It is important you leave within this window; other ships docked in your section are waiting for you to clear in line with ion storm protocol. If you need to stay longer, please enter a new request for a docking assignment.”

“Acknowledged. Thank you, ops.” You cut the connection and turn to Chris. “Did you catch that? I’ve got to go… I was one of the last in before the storm hit so I have to be one of the first out.”

“I’ll walk you to your ship. I’ll be back for that drink, Leland, I—”

“Sure. Neat scotch, right? I’ll have it waiting. Nice to meet you,” Leland nods.

“Wrong time again,” Chris says, corner of his mouth lifting, as you reach Lizzie’s dock. Your walk back was quiet, but once you were out the bar he reached out and tucked your arm into his. There’s no one around; the ship before yours has just gone but you’re not on the clock quite yet.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. Maybe I shouldn’t have said… I didn’t think I’d be leaving so soon.”

“No, I’m glad you did.” He turns, facing you, and you stare up into his eyes as he reaches out, brushing your cheek with his finger. And then he’s leaning in and so are you and his kiss is soft, almost questioning, but it lights you up. You reach up and run your hand along that perfect jawline, memorising the feel of his body gently pressing into yours, his skin under your fingers, his lips sliding across yours. Memorising the feel of him.

All too soon though your communicator chirps, and he pulls away with a small smile. “So I’ll see you at Starbase… 114 next time? I don’t even know where that is.”

“It’s a date.” You both laugh. You know it’s not going to happen. But you’re glad this did.

[bardic-tales]

OC Favorites Tag

Thank you so much for the tag, @jessica-writes22 and @quill-spills-ink. I really love both of your characters' favorite clothing.

Rules: What is your character's favorite items based on keywords given.

I am going to do this for Anabelle Vasser, the main character for Pale Fire.

My 1st words are: Sport, Song, Time of day, person, activity.

Activity: Anabelle's favorite activity is reading. In her summer manor located in Lucci, she has a large library that she will disappear into for hours. This library has large dark pecan bookcases lining the walls. There is also a spiral staircase heading to an upper level. This is also her favorite place to be.

Person: Before she has her children, her favorite person would be Seamus Jorinuson. They have a love and hate relationship, but he would do anything to protect her.

Song: This is hard as Arathean music is not the same as ours. She would have liked opera music dominated by castratos, but she also would have liked to listen to the music from the minstrels and troubadours. She loves to go to opera house in Olessa, the capital of the Olessan Empire. A real-life example would be anything from The Marriage of Figaro.

Sport: She enjoys watching a version of billiards and a rougher version of what we know as football. She also liked to watch bare-knuckle boxing.

Time of Day: Anabelle's favorite time of day is dusk. She enjoys watching the sunset with Seamus at his lavish manor in Glorendt. Preferably with a glass of wine in her hand.

I'm going to do this second round of keywords for Brennan Draig, a main character of Flight of the Dragon.

My 2nd set of words are cook, spot to relax, way to spend a day, animal.

Animal: This is a great question. Brennan recently had a hatred of dogs as when he was just a hatchling and learning to fend for himself dogs would terrorize him. As he spent more time with Alystin after the Huntsman Inn burnt to the ground, he started to have a newfound respect for Emray, her black and white malamute.

Cook: Brennan is an obligate carnivore. He typically likes his meat as raw as possible. Alystin has learned to cook any meat for a few seconds on each side and serve him. He especially enjoys a rare piece of deer steak.

Spot to Relax: As with most silver dragons, Brennan enjoys spending the majority of his time in the sky and resting on clouds. When the first time he was there, he had dew on his wings and plummeted to the ground only to save himself at the last moment. It is peaceful there, without little interruption. He does bring Alystin up in the sky once or twice since he known her. She shares his sentiment.

Way to spend the day: His favorite way to spend the day is to be hold up in his living quarters with Alystin as they tell each other riddles. Alystin has never came up with a riddle that could stump him, but he recognizes that she is terrific at their game -- even if, in his eyes at some points, she's just a short-lived human.