#sneak peek at character development a few stories down the line

[juniperskye]

Until I Found You

***Potential spoilers of The Rookie***

Pairing: John Nolan x Fem Reader

Sneak Peek: After his breakup with Bailey, John is convinced he will never fall in love again…that is until he found you. (This is taking place pre TO Nolan) Reader owns a Café (food truck).

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 2851

Warnings: Reader has kind of spooky vibes, no use of y/n, Implied age gap, mention of food and eating (no explicit details), brief mention of crime (no explicit details), mention of past relationships, mention of unhealthy relationships, mention of getting ready for a date (details are feminine leaning – shaving, makeup, nails, hairstyling), developing strong feelings quickly, one teeny tiny kiss.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

After his breakup with Bailey, John was convinced he wouldn’t find love again. How would it be fair for him to have had love with Sarah, Lucy, Jessica, Grace, Bailey and for him to expect it again. His love with each of those women differed from one another, but they all had played a very important role in his life. For the last few months John had really just been going through the motions; sleep, work, eat, repeat.

Today had been a particularly slow day on the job for John, very unusual for the LAPD. He had been riding alone today which was honestly making the day drag on even more so. He was counting down the minutes until lunch – at least then he would get to socialize with his fellow officers.

Two speeding tickets, one robbery and a stolen car later, it was finally time for lunch. Heading to their usual spot, John notices that there is a new food truck parked, black with orange script on the side spelling out “Hallowed Grounds” alongside little white painted bats. John’s eyes were drawn to this truck not because it is new, or that the line was at least fifteen people long, but because of the beautiful person running the window.

It was Lucy who had ultimately broken John out of the trance he was in.

“Hey, you okay? You were spaced out there for a second.” Lucy questioned.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m okay. What’s with the new truck?” John wanted to see how much Lucy knew without giving away the attraction he was feeling towards this stranger.

“Oh! It is all over social media, Hallowed Grounds, it is mostly coffee, but the pastries are to die for! I mean literally that is their slogan!” Lucy laughed.

“The line is pretty long, so it must be good. Should we check it out?”

“Sounds good to me!”

With that, John and Lucy made their way to the line. Lucy was talking John’s ear off about some new social media drama, but honestly John wasn’t listening, he was far too distracted by your beauty and the honey sweet tone of your voice. You had this way about you that was breathtaking, moving with grace and just so patient and kind to all the patrons who had been waiting in line. They were finally nearing the front of the line, and John had realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Hi there! What can I get for you?” You smiled at him.

“Hi, can I get a medium caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone?” Lucy ordered with no hesitation.

“Of course! And for you?” You looked expectantly at John.

“I um, can I just get a black coffee and, no that’s all.” John stuttered.

Lucy looked over at him confused as she paid, and they walked over to stand near the pickup window. John took note of you disappearing from the window and a young man taking your place.

“Okay, I know that we did not just stand in that long line just for you to order a black coffee. What is up with you?” Lucy questioned John. “OH MY GOD! You think she’s cute, don’t you?”

“Okay, hush! I’d rather not scare the girl off before I even get a chance to talk to her.”

“Okay sorry! I’m just happy for you. You’ve been sulking ever since you and Bailey broke things off.”

“I have not been sulking…okay maybe I have. But I really thought she was it for me.”

“John and Lucy?” You called.

They made their way up to the window to pick up their orders.

“Alright Lucy, a caramel latte and a lemon blueberry scone, and for John a black coffee and a chocolate croissant.” I hope you guys have a wonderful day and stay safe!”

“Oh, I didn’t…” John started.

“Thank you so much, you have a wonderful day too!” Lucy cut John off and began to drag him away from the truck.

The two of them went to sit at a table with Tim, Aaron and Nyla for the rest of their lunch. They were all hoping it wouldn’t be cut short by a call coming in.

“Alright Nolan!” Aaron exclaimed as John sat down.

“What? What did I do?”

“The bag. The barista gave you her number!”

John turned the bag around and sure enough your name and phone number had been neatly printed along with a little heart. John looked at Tim, then Nyla and finally to Lucy. He hadn’t been expecting you to give him your number, especially not after he had made a complete fool of himself in front of you just moments before.

Just as Lucy was about to encourage him to text you, a call came ringing in over the radios. Everyone was quick to get up and head to their respective shops. John heard Tim and Lucy radio that they were responding, and that Nyla and Aaron were acting as backup. He figured they had it covered, and he would continue to patrol, but not before adding you into his contacts.

Three days.

It was three days before John had gathered the courage to text you. He hadn’t seen you either, since he’d worked through lunch one of the days, had a pretty big drug bust on the second day, and was assigned to the front desk on the third day. Today though, he had the day off and now was his time to text you and see if you would want to go on a date with him.

John: Hey, this is John. From the other day.

You: Hi! I was beginning to think that maybe I was too forward.

John: Oh, no, not at all! I’m sorry, things have just been really busy with work. I finally have a day off.

You: Okay, good! I’m sorry work has been keeping you busy. Hopefully you’ve been able to stay safe.

John: I have. Nothing too out of the ordinary this week. How have you been?

You: I’ve been good! I have been testing some new recipes and trying to figure out what to swap in for the fall season.

You: Speaking of which…would you like to be a taste tester for me? I could really use a customer’s perspective!

John: I would love to! By the way, that croissant was incredible. I was actually texting you to ask you to dinner.

You: Yeah, dinner and then we can go back to mine to try these desserts?

You: Wow that was also very forward…I’m not usually like this by the way!

John: No worries. I won’t read into it I promise. So tonight, can I pick you up at 7?

You: 7 is perfect, see you then John!

After confirming your plans with John, you kicked it into high gear. It was 10:07 a.m. and you had a lot to do before you’d be ready to go. You really needed to get your nails done, you needed to finish the 6 different pastries you’d been working on, and you’d really need to shower before you could get ready.

After doing some quick math in your head, you figured that you would have just enough time to get everything done provided you shower while some things were baking in the oven. With that, you place the pre-cut cookie dough into the freezer (these would be easy enough to pull out and bake later when you and John go back), you placed the muffins and two different loaves of bread in the oven. That just left the cake that you were actively frosting and the pie that was cooling. Once the cake was thoroughly iced, you threw the dishes in the dishwasher and headed towards the shower, not without checking your timer to make sure you’d have ample time.

You were sure to go through all the steps of what you’d consider a full shower, washing and conditioning your hair, washing your body with your best smelling body wash, and shaving essentially every inch of your body. You weren’t anticipating that anything would happen tonight, but you wanted to be prepared nonetheless and you’d make sure at the very least that you smelled good.

After drying off and throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, you made way for the kitchen just in time to pull out the muffins and the bread. You set them out on the cooling rack, turned the oven off and then you headed to your favorite nail salon. They were able to get you in right away seeing as it was 12:00 p.m. on a Thursday.

Your nail appointment ended at about 1:30 p.m., which gave you enough time to head over and check on your staff and the truck. Upon arrival you noticed there were a few police cruisers parked along the curb. You knew John was off today, but you still found yourself scanning the crowd for him.  

“He’s not here.” Your staff, Ezra, had called over to you.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You tried to hide your blush, embarrassed about getting caught looking for John. Ezra was the one who had encouraged you to give him your number in the first place, having seen how smitten you were with John when you’d met him the other day. Ezra and you had been friends for years, he could read you better than anyone.

“Mmhmm, sure thing. It was a different group this time around. What are you up to? Aren’t you supposed to be off testing new pastries?” Ezra questioned you.

“I was doing exactly that when John texted me and asked me out! I went and got my nails done and figured I would stop by and see how things were going before I went back home and got ready for my date.”

“OH MY GOD! See I told you that if you gave him your number, he’d ask you out. There were definite vibes the other day, he was so enamored by you that he forgot to look at the menu!” Ezra gushed.

“Okay, fine. You were right. I’m kind of nervous, he’s taking me to dinner, then we’re going back to my place so he can taste the new desserts and give me his opinions on them.”

“Girl, you are going to be fine! He seems nice and you are an amazing person, no reason to be nervous. Plus, what have you got to lose?” Ezra had always been your voice of reason in times of need.

“Okay, yeah. I should probably get going then so I can get ready.”

“Okay babe, have a great night! OH and you should wear the outfit you wore to our opening party, it screams you and its hot!”

“Oh, that was a good outfit, I don’t know where he’s taking me yet, but it should be dressy enough.”

You said your goodbyes to Ezra and made your way back home. It was nearing 3:30 p.m. and you knew you should probably start getting ready. You grabbed a glass of water and then got to styling your hair. You curled your hair and applied some natural looking makeup and went to get dressed. To pair with the faux leather skirt and starry mesh top, you slid on some black tights, comfy socks and your Doc Martens. Looking over at your alarm clock you see 6:45p.m. glowing red and you decide to switch to a smaller purse in the time you have left before your date…your usual everyday tote bag not exactly matching this outfit choice. You’d opted for a small leather handbag, with gold accents, it matched your outfit perfectly and was better suited for the occasion. As soon as you organized everything into the purse a knock sounded at the door. You took a deep breath then walked to answer it.

“Hi!” You greeted John as you opened the door.

“Wow, you look incredible.” John was awestruck, you had such a different style than the women he had previously dated, but he was really loving it. You were so confident in your own skin, and you just had this glow about you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome.”

“Shall we?” John gestured to his truck.

You nodded and the two of you walked around to the passenger side. John opened the door for you then offered his hand to assist you into the truck.

“Such a gentleman.”

John blushed at the compliment, he tried to shake it off as he started the truck and pulled out of your driveway. You made small talk on your way to the restaurant, which ended up being a very nice steakhouse.

John parked and looked over to you, he made note of the way you were inspecting the sign, and immediately panicked.

“I probably should have asked and made sure you weren’t a vegetarian!”

“I’m not! I love a good steak; my dad is a self-proclaimed grill master!” You laughed.

John laughed with you and let out a sigh of relief. He once again opened your door for you and reached to help you out of the truck. He was so different form the men you had dated before, so polite and caring. He listened to what you had to say and even asked you questions to learn more about you. It was so refreshing to be around someone like him. Truth is, you had dated some pretty terrible people in the past and that was the main reason you were single now. You’d decided to take a break from dating and focus on yourself and your career, which is how you’d gotten to the point of owning a very successful food truck. You had explained to John that your end goal is to have a brick-and-mortar location of Hallowed Grounds that was a café/bookstore. You wanted to create a cozy space for people to hangout while they enjoyed good food.

John just sat and smiled, he loved how you lit up when you spoke about it. Seeing you so passionate about something was honestly inspiring. He hadn’t expected the feelings for you to be so immediate, so strong, just crashing to the surface as the night went on. John could feel himself growing concerned about whether or not you were feeling as strongly for him as he was for you. The two of you had just clicked and it was so effortless.

What John didn’t know is you were currently battling the same demons. Was it really possible to be this comfortable with someone after such a short time?

Dinner had passed far too quickly for either of your likings, you were honestly just glad that you had already planned to continue this evening. You weren’t ready to say goodnight to John just yet. As John drove you back to your place, he took a risk by reaching for your hand to hold, you were quick to slide your hand into his and you couldn’t help but blush. John couldn’t believe how soft your hand was and it made him think about how rough his must be from his years as a contractor, he shook the thought away as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

You made it back to your place relatively quickly and John once again made sure to assist you on the passenger side, only this time instead of offering you his hand, he was a little bolder. He’d placed his hands on your waist and slowly helped you out of the truck. You stood there, chest to chest, your breath hitching from the proximity. Your gazes danced over one another’s face, shifting from eyes to lips back to eyes, silently asking for permission. When you slightly tilted your head, John understood and reached his right hand up to cup your jaw as he brought you in for a kiss. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever but ended far too soon. You wanted to exist in this moment infinitely.

You and John held hands once again as you staggered to the door. You made quick work of the lock and invited him in, guiding him to the kitchen.

“You ready to try some desserts?” You asked.

“Absolutely!” John replied.

You blushed, realizing the double entendre and moved to get all the desserts plated up. You explained to John that you’d need to throw the cookies in the oven, but they only took about 10 minutes to cook. He nodded and asked if you needed any help with anything, which you declined and encouraged him to relax.

John watched as you worked in the kitchen, this had been your element and it was like a well-choreographed dance, the way you moved. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, picturing the two of you like this, years down the road. He knew that you had only just met, but after tonight he couldn’t deny the connection. He realized he had been wrong when he said he would never fall in love again. That was true, until he met you.

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

Day 7: Ritual [HALLOWEEN SPECIAL]

(Disclaimer: three of the characters in this story belong to me. For more information on Cruz, go here. For more information on LeviathanPat, go here. For more information on Sol, go here. For more information on Moses and ColosSeptic, go here. EldritchPlier belongs to the Markiplier Cinematic Universe.)

(This story, along with Day 6, is a continuation of a sneak-peek I included at the end of Day 2. Originally, this was going to be a sneak-peek itself, but plans have changed, and I'm on a bit of time-crunch, so...)

(As usual, I got tons of help developing these characters from the amazing @sammys-magical-au ! Please go check out their blog and stories!)

(One more thing: if you’d like to use the distorted fonts you’ll be seeing in this story, go here.)

(Trigger Warnings: blood/gore, body horror, knives/blades, murder/death, torture, descriptions of ritual, occultism, eating/drinking, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6

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As attached as he was to his gut-hook skinner knife, Cruz knew that he couldn’t realistically rely on it for everything. 

Sure, he took care to keep it nice and sharp and ready, but that didn’t change the fact that its three-and-a-half inch blade was simply too small for this particular task. 

Besides, it was still very satisfying to hear a wet, dull thunk as he brought a borrowed kitchen knife down, followed by a slick, puply sigh as he pushed the blade deeper and deeper into flesh until the handle was all that could be seen. 

Cruz felt his eyes widen in time with the grin that etched its way over his features. Readjusting his grip, he began a pushing-and-pulling pattern, slowly-but-surely carving a thick line. The table slightly wobbled beneath the weight and the movement, but he used his free hand to keep his current project in place. 

The flesh produced a soft, squelchy rhythm that was close to a growl as the knife continued sawing through. 

…Though, after a moment or two, Cruz had to pause, releasing his grasp to try and shake off the sudden cramp that had manifested in his wrist. 

A wry chuckle kept silence at bay. He glanced over at the figure sitting across the table from him, who had already finished carving. 

“These guys are always tougher than you expect, huh?” Sol—as he’d learned during awkward introductions about ten-or-so minutes ago—commented.

Strings of wet pulp glistened in the pendant light that hung overhead, easily snapping as Sol pulled a decent chunk from the top-half of their own victim.

A strong smell filtered into the air: fresh and ripe and earthy and…maybe tinged with just a smidge of something acidic?

“Yeah, they really are,” Cruz nodded. “Still pretty fun, though.” 

He wrapped his hand around the knife and resumed his cutting, this time a bit of an easier angle. Once he convinced his subject to finally open up, he twisted the top off with a stiff criiick. “...Hey, thanks for taking the time to get these. I would’ve picked some up myself, but the drive over here didn’t seem to take me past any patches.”

To be frank, the drive to The Oozing Crown had been even stranger than the one Cruz had taken when Plier had guided him to make a new home at The Drowned Moon. 

It’d started raining an hour in, and the way those droplets had tapped against his windshield was far too specific to not be some kind of code. 

The edges of the road he’d maneuvered his car along had set themselves on fire once or twice—in the middle of that rainstorm, mind you—flames ignited in between the asphalt and his tires, only to snuff themselves out after a few seconds. 

At some point, blurry deer-shaped figures had clambered out of the vacant fields to gallop alongside his vehicle, giving more than enough time for him to see how they had no actual heads; just pairs of glassy eyes, floating in the air above neck-stumps, that seemed to glint with humor once the creatures had eventually veered off the road and faded away in the distance.

(Not like he hadn’t expected that kind of stuff, to be clear. Outer monstrosities like his boss-and-kind-of-weird-friend basically sweated horror, so of course that would eventually graft itself onto the places they claimed for their territory.)

“Oh, of course! Don’t worry about it,” Sol beamed as they reached into the chasm they’d just sliced open, ripping out a handful of slimy tissue to deposit into the decorative bowl that sat in the center of the table, covered in various glyphs. They then got up from their chair, holding their hands up like a surgeon as they moved to lean over said bowl. 

“There’s actually a sort of botany section back at my boss’ hideout,” they explained, carefully picking out all the white, oval-shaped seeds and put them in a smaller, less impressive tupperware container off to the side. “It’s not much; just one greenhouse across the entrance walkway from my apartment. But it’s been doing pretty well.”

“Wait, really? I thought that museum was all about medical oddities and the like,” Cruz replied as he grabbed a serrated scoop and began raking it over the gourd’s inner-walls. 

“It’s all about oddities in general. Stuff relating to human anatomy just happens to be one of the biggest parts of that category.” Sol shrugged, their face temporarily twisting as one seed managed to land in the ginger hair that tickled their shoulders. They tugged it out and flicked it over to the garbage can that stood at attention by the head of the table.

“As long as it looks creepy, it can be added to the collections. So, weird plants and fungi have just enough game. Like a little preview before the real meat and potatoes.”

“Nice. I can totally see that working well,” Cruz assured, visions of bat orchid and pitcher-plants and doll’s eyes and corpse blossoms flickering through his brain. “But…pumpkins? They really have enough weirdness to count?” 

Sol raised a joking eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the gourds on the table. 

The one they were hollowing out was covered in puffy, dry-looking, wart-esque growths. The one he was focusing on, meanwhile, was a dark shade of green rather than orange, boasting wrinkled-looking skin despite how obviously fresh it was, along with a shape like a clumsily-sculpted cube rather than an apple-like sphere.

“...Yeah, okay. Fair point,” Cruz admitted with a chuckle. 

Twin yips! and mmrrowhs! echoed from a few feet away, prompting the two of them to look over in almost perfect unison. 

A long, wide bar-counter stood at the center of The Oozing Crown, separating the brewery’s main floor from a set of nearly floor-to-ceiling shelves, each one full to bursting with various bottles. It also came equipped with a pair of thin, sliding doors that could be locked up in order to shield said bottles. 

This was extremely fortunate, as two vaguely cat-like creatures had apparently deemed the counter a perfect space for wrestling. They both shifted in-and-out of their glamors as they leapt and swatted and scampered after one another. 

Crimson spikes shuffled through Macaroon’s veil of cream-colored fluff. 

The black feline he was facing off with (Sol had introduced him as Charcoal) pounced away; a shudder ran through his front-legs, his paws and claws and toe-beans all stretching out into a pair of bat-like wings the second he was in the air. 

He fluttered in circles overhead, undoubtedly soaking up the way Macaroon stared at him.

Sol tilted their head at the display, eyes practically sparkling. “Y’know, I really didn’t think Char would get along with another cat-monster so well. I mean, he was a stray when I first found him.”

Cruz shrugged, scratching at his thin beard and resisting the urge to walk over and scoop his pet up. “Well, when I got Macaroon, I was told that about sixty-percent of his brain is a ragdoll’s. So, he loves to play when he gets the chance.” 

(Granted, that playing also extended to shredding sacrificial victims into ribbons if they tried to cause any problems during a ritual, but still. So long as he wasn’t directly threatened, Macaroon was a total sweetheart.)

Sol nodded, and it wouldn’t have taken a mind-reader to guess that they were thinking about all the not-so-cute-and-cuddley things Charcoal had done in order to help them out with their own projects. 

Unseen hinges creaked, followed by the unmistakable rhythm of footsteps and claws clicking against hardwood. 

A brunette man, seemingly around Sol’s age (so, younger than Cruz, but still obviously an adult) traipsed out the brewery’s kitchen with glistening, dark red stains on his hands.

Moses paused to wash them off at a sink behind the bar (if you asked Cruz, the blood really wouldn’t have been too noticeable against the deep maroon fabric of the button-down he wore…then again, that button-down was open and draped over a white-as-snow tank-top). He then sidled around the corner of the bar.

A small, vaguely dog-esque creature skittered by his side. Judging by the splotches of gray and black and tan that decorated his fluffy fur, his glamour seemed to be a hybrid of Australian cattle dog and German shepherd. 

Just like the cats, however, things were not as they seemed. 

As Moses’ pet panted like any canine would, his mouth seemed to stretch just a bit too wide at the corners; his pendant ears and little button nose almost seemed to wither in place before snapping back into form. His big, warm eyes flickered, looking much more hollow for half a second. The poof of his wagging tail was a blur, but if you looked at it just long enough, you’d see several stands of something scaly and sinuous…

Both Macaroon and Charcoal paused their antics, regarding him with curiosity and suspicion. Mincer, meanwhile, simply sat and stared back at the felines, tilting his head just a little too far.

“How goes the gutting?” Moses announced, taking a chair away one of the other tables and dragging it over to the one his guests were occupying. 

“Good,” Sol reported, lifting up her pumpkin to show how (relatively) clean it was on the inside. 

“We’re almost done here; just gotta get one more pumpkin’s worth.” She gestured to the glyph-covered bowl, which was now almost piled high with fruit-masquerading-as-vegetable guts. 

“Alright, then. I can take care of that,” Moses grinned, approaching the group of just-in-case-spares that Sol and her boss had brought along. He loomed over them, eyes wandering back and forth, trying to decide which one would be best. 

“And what about the set-up down there?” Cruz asked. He’d only caught a glimpse of The Oozing Crown’s basement, but he’d have a chance to get a better look once Plier returned, along with the monsters Sol and Moses were working with. 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s pretty much ready,” Moses replied. “Getting bodies into the spare tanks is always a little tricky, but I managed. Helps that there’s only two for tonight. And the live one definitely won’t be going anywhere.”

“He’d better not be,” Cruz replied with a grim chuckle. “Because the hypnosis is definitely gonna wear off sooner or later.”

As if to prove his point, muffled screaming began to echo up through the floor, alongside a chorus of desperate thumps.

An instinctive shiver ran down his spine at recent memories. 

How Plier had apparently singled one of the theater’s patrons out from the crowd.

How Plier had instructed Cruz to lead said patron into Screen Nine, and then lock the doors and put up a maintenance sign to all other customers.

How Cruz had used the Employees Only room to slither into Screen Nine’s projection booth and watch the trapping process.

How the movie that the patron had chosen to watch began normally…only for the enormous screen to turn a dark shade of gray, still glowing from within, giving ample opportunity to see hundreds of tiny lines all writhed and rippled along, like raindrops violently colliding with a pool of deep, murky water.

All the while, character dialogue had transitioned into something else. The sound had been reminiscent of rubber being stretched…only at a much lower pitch that carried on far, far past its welcome.

Just one of many tricks at Plier’s dispense when he either wanted or needed to make sure that a customer wouldn’t be leaving The Drowned Moon…

“Oh!” Moses suddenly blurted as he glanced at the pumpkin-gut bowl. “Before I forget—!”

He raced past Mincer and the cats, hovering behind the bar. He fished a small, glinting key from one of his pockets, opened up the shelf-door, then quickly shut and re-locked them after taking a grabbing a rectangular, teal-tinted bottle. 

“This is one of my favorites,” Moses mentioned, snickering as he carried said bottle over to the table. He raised it to his face, expertly using his teeth to dislodge the cork with a loud, shrill sqquueeak!

The sharp scent of tequila seeped into the air.

Cruz blinked, exchanging a look with Sol. 

“What’re you—” Sol began to ask, but Moses cut her off via resting the bottle’s neck on the rim of the bowl, allowing at least two shot glasses worth of booze to pour on in. 

Once he was satisfied, Moses re-corked the bottle, set it off to the side, and grabbed one of the scoops to stir the alcohol into the pumpkin guts. 

“Voila!” Moses proclaimed with a triumphant smirk. 

“...Why?” Cruz wondered aloud, brow furrowing in confusion. 

In response, Moses raised an eyebrow as though Cruz had just asked him whether or not water made things wet. “The whole point of this ritual is to keep some mindless, starving primeval monster disguised as an asteroid from eating the moon. So, that means the offering should be as filling as possible to keep him from trying that stunt again for at least another couple centuries.” 

“I mean, yeah,” Sol acknowledged. “But…things like Ah’Mung-Stus can only process alcohol in impossible ways. Nothing like how humans can.  The offering’s already gonna involve blood, and we have no idea how it could mix with that drink.” 

“Exactly! It’ll be a fifty-fifty chance: the tequila could make the offering delicious…or it could make the offering completely appalling. Either way, it’ll just be one more thing to stop Ah’Mung-Stus,” Moses insisted, putting a hand on his hip as he took the bottle and returned it to the shelves. “No matter how it tastes, in the end, he’ll be too full and too drunk to be a threat,”

As he went back to scrutinizing the pile of pumpkins, he added, “Besides, we’re in a brewery that has to be closed on Halloween. You have any idea how much of an impact that’ll put on business after this? I might as well make use of some of the supply tonight, one way or another.” 

Cruz wanted to point out how intoxication generally did NOT make outer monstrosities less dangerous than they already were.

Especially considering all the chaos that had taken place in the theater on Plier’s part due to a horrific hangover from…well, Cruz would never be sure what his boss had consumed that infamous night, but a faint, nearly-radioactive scent still lingered in Screen Ten months later. 

But before he could, Sol suddenly stood from her chair in a violent flinch. They rested one hand on her temple, her bright blue eyes flickering in a way that Cruz was all too familiar with. 

There was a voice in her head; a voice that was very real because it was being spoken by a creature who could feast on mortal minds professionally or casually. A creature that she’d obviously made a pact with similar to the one he’d made with Plier all those years ago. 

“Moses, wait—” Sol tried. “Not that one, NOT—!”

A section on the white pumpkin Moses had selected suddenly bulged from the inside. A muffled chorus of scraping and squelching followed. 

 Moses’ eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as he, likely acting on panicked instinct, dropped the gourd and backed away several paces.

The pumpkin burst open with a spray of pale orange slime before it even hit the floor. Without even a second of hesitation, its seed-covered guts ripped their way through the organic chasm. The glob floundered on the floor in a clumsy, wobbling slither like a huge slug on bath-salts. It raised its dripping, misshapen, featureless head to the ceiling and let out a high-pitched squeal. It then clambered in Moses’ direction, snarling and spitting. 

Mincer leapt in front of his owner, his glamour completely evaporating. His fuzzy head vanished, revealing a set of three canine skulls in its place, the vertebrae from three necks eventually disappearing into the fur that remained on his chest. What was once his tail was now a cluster of live snakes, which all hissed and writhed independently, craning themselves to look around their host’s body. 

Mincer’s middle-skull lunged, sinking its teeth into the pumpkin-gut-creature and thrashing it back and forth while his left-skull and right-skull barked and growled. 

Macaroon saw this new chaos and realized that one of his new friends had found an odd little plaything. So, he dropped his own glamor and raced into the fray, a coat of spike flaring out over his back, extra eyes blooming under his primary ones. He opened his mouth, allowing a disturbingly long forked tongue to wrap around the opposite end of the pumpkin-gut-creature, making it easier for him clamp his own fangs down. 

Charcoal, who had been perching on the ceiling fan that hung just above all of this, quickly realized that someone else was getting more attention than he was. So, he dive-bombed his way into the sudden game of Tug-O-War, wings flapping furiously, veils of smoke pouring through his teeth. A pair of horns sprouted up from his forehead, and the tip of his tail was topped by scorpion-esque barb that had absolutely NOT been there a few seconds ago. 

Sol and Cruz abandoned their seats at the same time, their respective shouts mixing into one another as they rushed over to their pets. Moses grabbed at Mincer’s chest (and, by some miracle, avoided getting bitten by any of the tail-snakes) but the monstrous little dog didn’t release his hold. 

Sol managed to pin Charcoal’s wings to his chest before he was out of reach, but the cat-dragon-thing proved just as stubborn. 

The same went for Macaroon, who didn’t so much as budge when Cruz made to scoop him up. 

Thankfully, all the extra friction seemed to be on their side…kind of. 

With an energy similar to that of a rubber band being snapped, the pumpkin-gut-creature ended up flying across the room to hit the wall with a solid SPLAT!

It then slid to the floor, still and quiet as the pumpkin guts that waited patiently in the glyph-bowl.

The pets all quieted down, slowly shifting back into the guise of normal animals, their eyes all wide and curious and they stared across the room. 

Their respective owners pretty much followed suite, mouths hanging open as they held their pets close and braced for more chaos.

When the chaos failed to come, Sol was the first to move, heaving a sigh of relief. “Okay, okay. It’s dead.” 

“Are you sure?” Cruz asked, not wanting to look away from the mess too long. 

“Positive.” Sol nodded before she set Charcoal down, crossing the room and grabbing a roll of paper towels from the table they’d been using. She knelt down to scrub at the fresh stain on the wall; once it was cleaned, she gave Moses an apologetic look. “Pat had been holding that pumpkin on the way here. I guess some of his energy grafted onto it.”

“Oh.” Moses murmured, slowly nodding. He blinked, then rolled his shoulders and knelt down to receive some puppy-kisses from Mincer. “...Can we still use those guts, or should I just hollow out a different one?”

Sol’s brow furrowed, their eyes flickering as they listened to the voice of a monster. “...No, he says this should work just fine.” 

“More potency, right?” Cruz offered with a weak chuckle. 

It took a few long, awkward minutes for the three of them to scrape all the formerly-animate pumpkin guts off the floor and into the bowl. An extra moment to pick out all those seeds.

Even so, it seemed the timing was perfect. 

A strong chill spread through the air, right as the hardwood floor took on an abrupt, almost organic heat.

The building shuddered. 

A cacophony of twisting, straining metal, of splashing, of warped hissing and growling echoed from the the kitchen doorway. 

And then…a voice. 

A horrific, distorted voice that implied the air inside the lungs it’d just risen out of had melted.

A voice that Cruz didn’t recognize it…but Moses most certainly did judging by the way his lips quirked into a smile. 

“𝗪⃥𝘌̸'⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘈̸𝗔⃥𝘈̸𝗔⃥𝘈̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗞⃥!̸” It called, the words seeming to bounce along the walls and floor and ceiling. 

“And we’ll be right down!” Moses responded, balancing the pumpkin-gut-filled bowl on one hand like he was a waiter in a snooty restaurant. 

He strode back behind the back, disappearing through the kitchen doorway once again. 

Sol and Cruz filed after him, entering the brewery’s little kitchen just in time to see him strapping his personal, protective mask onto his head. 

It almost resembled one of those classic gas-masks…almost. But a set of six spindly blades that had been attached to the base of the mouth guard, clutching at the air like the mandibles of an insect, had other ideas. As did the multitude of shiny, deep blue eyes that had been welded to scatter all over the mask’s head, above the primary lenses that Moses was now looking through as he made his way down into the basement. 

Two more masks had been left on the counter by the stove.

One that shone like black porcelain or marble, decorated with sculpted veins a dull shade of reddish-violet. A pair of ram-like horns curled under the sharp spires of what must've been ears. It boasted a mouthful of sharp, gleaming teeth that formed a grin on the left side and a snarl on the right.

Sol took it into their hands, lifting it to rest on their face before shrugging a violet leather jacket over their black-and-yellow striped shirt. Then, they marched on after Moses, quickly disappearing into the darkness.

Cruz picked up his own mask, the one he’d spent nearly an entire week perfecting before he’d ever even met Plier. It was in the vague shape of a bird’s face, almost like those plague doctor costumes that so many people were hot for on Halloween. Streaks of scarlet and gold wound about the beak, ending at the glass eye-lenses. 

Even after all the things he’d done, all the things he’d seen and learned thanks to Plier, it was still a little hard to believe that this thing was responsible for shielding Cruz’s mind and brain from all the surreal energy he exposed himself to for projects like this. 

Cruz shook his head, then pulled the mask on. Once the straps were secure against his dark hair, he draped his favorite duster-cardigan over his shoulders. Yeah, the fabric was grayish-blue, and that didn’t exactly mix well with bloodstains, but he’d always liked the way its pattern almost looked like clouds of fog. Besides, it had washed well enough before.

The basement door hung open before him; it’d been built into the floor, much like a storm cellar. The beginning of a metallic staircase waited at the edge, only visible a few steps down.

Taking a deep breath, Cruz descended, pulling the floor-door shut behind him. 

He found himself standing on an iron catwalk, overlooking a truly enormous lair built with an industrial aesthetic. 

Out of all the machinery Cruz could see, a set of huge tanks stood out. It seemed they’d been constructed from copper and lined with a more silvery material. 

There were seven of them in total—six of them stood in two rows of three near the walls. The ones in the center of those rows were both full; gallons upon gallons of liquid churned within, glowing just enough to show off the silhouettes of a floating body.

The seventh tank stood at the head of the basement, much larger and more imposing than all the others. It glowed even brighter, its light tinted a sinister shade of green.

This one also wasn’t quite so empty; it shuddered and twitched and groaned in place as a trio of blurry shapes writhed for purchase inside. 

The tank’s hatch was pushed open with a keening screech, and a mass of horrific, abyssal flesh flooded out and down the side. 

A set of four arms sprouted from the monster’s sides, helping him steady himself just as he touched down on the concrete floor. He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, slinging droplets everywhere like a dog shaking water out of its fur.

Sol trotted over to stand by the abomination’s side. He gazed down at her and bared his long, glinting teeth in a knowing grin. 

This must have been the Pat that Sol had mentioned earlier.

And his grin died a quick-yet-brutal death as another hideous figure pushed its way out through the tank’s hatch, a clutch of claws landing on one of the tendrils coiling from Pat’s back. 

Pat let out a short cry of pain that evolved into a furious HSSSSS, a forked tongue flicking between his rows and rows and rows of teeth like a party favor.

The emerging monster glowered right back, offering a low snarl before he clambered over to the opposite side of the room. 

Plier’s skin was the color of fleshy rust, almost every inch covered by organic thorns. It seemed to flicker on its own accord, like he was standing in the light of an invisible fire. Eight long, jagged, insectoid legs curved out of his torso, clutching at the floor and walls as he regained his balance. 

Cruz felt a grin spread under his mask. 

He jogged down the catwalk’s stairs, metal shaking with each step until he got to the basement floor. He raced past the rows of tank, having to jump over the live sacrifice—a sobbing, writhing man who lay on the floor, having been gagged and hogtied—like he was a hurdle that had been set up on a gym track to avoid tripping. 

Plier barked a laugh at the sight, the sound buzzing like a swarm of angry wasps in a blender. He reached with one claw to clap Cruz on the back. His eyes never failed to remind Cruz of burning embers, and they took on a somewhat softer glow with his humor. All sixteen of them.

“You’re late,” Cruz joked, drumming his fingers on one side of his mask. 

A long, chittering sigh drifted through Plier’s teeth—both his upper and lower canines were always longer than the rest, curving out of his mouth like tusks. 

“Ỷea͞h͍,̅ w̶̎e̽l̨l͠,̜ͮ̆ w̶̳e W̟O̻UĽ͙ͭD'̿V̢ͫͪE b̡_ȩ̃̓e͑n͉ he̹̦r͗̄̑e a̅ l̠͢i̜̅̐t̴̆ṯlͣ͟e͖ ea̬̾́ȓ̴͖l̦̾iͧe̟̿r̨̀̇,̍ Plier replied, his tone reeking with salt, “if̞̏͒ SO̜̼MÉ̲͖O̢͆NE͙̠ h̘̿a͛̔d̩̃͛ņ͓̓'͊t̓ taken̫̐ h̠́ịͦś S͝W̷̺ͧEE̅T̹ͯ DA̾M̈́̕N͌ͩ̅ T̒͗I̬͌̇M̯̚͟È t͉ͦ͂oͨ cͦat̤ͥ̍ch̗ â̬̕ st͍ȧr͑.”

Nine of his eyes rolled in their sockets, sending little daggers in Pat’s direction. 

Pat glared, pinprick pupils shuddering in the sickly-pale orbs that were trapped in his cavernous eye sockets. 

“¥ðµ'rê †ålkïñg ßïg gåmê £ðr †hê gµ¥ whð håÐ †ð kêêþ ¢ïr¢lïñg ßå¢k †ð gê† RÈþLÄÇÈMÈñ†§,” he snapped, pushing an accusatory talon at Plier. He glanced back at Sol, his sneer morphing into a smirk. “Hê jµ§† ¢ðµlÐñ'† §êêm †ð §†ðþ Ðrðþþïñg hï§ ðwñ §†år§ ïñ†ð †µmðr §lµï¢ê; †ððk åß𵆠£ïvê †rïê§ ßê£ðrê hê måñågêÐ †ð hðlÐ ðñ†ð ðñê.”

Cruz’s eyes widened. He felt his heart skip a beat. 

Stars? The monsters had captured actual stars for this ritual?!

He stared at Pat, eyes searching frantically until he finally caught it: a large maw was taking up space on the abomination’s stomach, rows of sharp, crooked teeth having sprouted from his flesh and locked themselves together. 

And there, through the crevices of all those teeth…light. A bright, beautiful light that was flickering and shaking, so obviously struggling. 

Cruz craned his neck toward Plier and eventually found something similar. A group of his thorns had grown longer and thicker than all the rest, creating a makeshift cage on the upper half of his back. Desperate light seeped through the thin cracks.

Plier sputtered at this, veils of steam pouring out through his skin. “O̢ͩͮh̾,̢̐ͯ p̫̾̒l̝ẻ͎as̿e͋̐!̽ Iͩt̊'̫́s̫͞ n̳o̿́t̚_̓ M̷̬̕Ỳ f̵̺͖a̮̾u͑͋l̟͘͢t͐ͧͤ th̫͛̆e̮ͮy strͦu͑ggl̨͑̚eͮ s̙̼̒õ m̥̀͜u̹ͣc͡h͔͆́!ͬ̀̚”

A snide hum seared into the air through Pat’s teeth. He tilted his head until it was angled upside-down. “Wåï† å §ê¢ðñÐ…wh¥ ÐÌÐ †hê¥ §†rµgglê §ð mµ¢h? Ì mêåñ, ï£ ¥ðµ'rê §µ¢h åñ È×þÈR† ðñ h¥þñð§ï§ åñÐ gµïlê—”

He cut himself off as Plier snarled and lunged, ducking in just the nick of time to leave the other monster’s talons swiping at empty air. His torso stretched with a chorus of awful pops and cracks as he glided along the floor, baring his fangs to retaliate.

…Or, he was about to when a ragged, piercing howl swept through the basement. The sound truly seemed to turn the air poisonous; both Plier and Pat flinched badly, lowering their heads and wrenching all of their hideous eyes shut. 

Cruz’s head swam. It took an embarrassingly long few seconds for him to realize that he’d fallen to his knees. He glanced over at Sol—they were still standing, though they had to lean against one of the tanks for support. 

As Cruz picked himself up, that green glow quickly grew brighter and deeper. He looked over at the seventh tank, just in time to see a third abomination floating in the center. 

Like Plier and Pat, this one was vaguely human-shaped for the most part (though, really, you’d have to be on some serious drugs for that to make any sense). The flesh stretching from his wide, hollow eye-sockets seemed to flutter in the tank's liquid. His dark hair was even longer than Plier’s, strands swaying and swirling like drunken eels. 

All the eyes on his chest, neck and arms blinked and rolled, pupils of all shapes dilating and constricting with no rhyme or reason. He even seemed to be somewhat propelled by the remains of his torso; like a cluster of ghostly jellyfish had taken nest inside of the cavity. 

The toxic light was vibrant enough to essentially burn through the copper, allowing everyone to see him for what he truly was. 

“𝗜⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗚⃥𝘏̸𝗧⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘞̸𝗢⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸��⃥𝘋̸ 𝘈̸ 𝘛̸𝗥⃥𝘜̸𝗖⃥𝘌̸ 𝘍̸𝗢⃥𝘙̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗦⃥,̸” the eyeless-and-yet-also-eyeful abomination announced, glancing back and forth between Plier and Pat. 

Plier scoffed, fixing the floor with a withering glare. 

Pat folded each of his arms across his chest, softly clicking his teeth together. 

“​​𝗨⃥𝘏̸-⃥𝘏̸𝗨⃥𝘏̸,⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘎̸𝗛⃥𝘛̸.⃥ 𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥,̸ 𝘓̸𝗘⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘔̸𝗔⃥𝘒̸𝗘⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘚̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘋̸𝗙⃥𝘖̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥𝘈̸𝗞⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸ 𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘗̸𝗣⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥!” A sardonic chuckle seeped through the eyeless abomination’s teeth. He glided closer to the front wall of the tank, the copper vibrating as he drummed his talons against it. “𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥,̸ 𝘚̸𝗘⃥𝘌̸?⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘖̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥ 𝗥⃥𝘐̸𝗚⃥𝘏̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘋̸𝗘⃥𝘈̸!⃥”

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Cruz turned his head to discover that Moses had been placing the pumpkin guts in a rather decorative circle around the live sacrifice.

“Thanks, Septic,” Moses replied, his tone implying a huge, crooked grin on his face. Once the bowl was empty, he set it off to the side and trotted over to stand by the eyele—er, Septic’s tank.

Septic cleared his throat, diving back down and out of sight for a few seconds before surging back up again. The misplaced eyes on his arms rolled in different directions, some staring at Sol while others scrutinized Cruz. 

Cruz swallowed a lump in his throat, nodding to signal cautious respect. 

“𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘜̸𝗬⃥𝘚̸ 𝘒̸𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗪⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗬⃥ 𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥'̸𝗥⃥𝘌̸ 𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥?̸” Septic inquired. 

“Absolutely!” Sol chimed, stepping forward and rocking back and forth on their heels.

“Of course,” Cruz reassured, moving a bit closer himself. 

“𝗚⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘋̸,⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘋̸.⃥” Septic nodded. He then craned his neck, fixing his focus on the live sacrifice. 

Despite his position on the floor, the trapped victim seemed to immediately feel the monster’s gaze, as he started violently trembling and gibbering, though he already looked exhausted from all the useless struggling he’d done earlier.

“𝗪⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘚̸?⃥” Septic asked, glancing at Plier. 

“Oͫ̍h̍,̘ͣͩ ń̩͞ö́̅͌-ͦ͞o̗͋ͤn͎ͩ̿è͌ sp̝̖̌eͬͥc̔̔i̶al̜̄̓.͟..̈” A dangerous smile swept through Plier’s face. He lifted his chin, subtly puffing out his chest before slamming one of his claws down beside the victim, who recoiled with a shriek. “.̳̥ͤ.̞.ͬ̎̂j̶͊ü̮̹st̀ s̮o̜̽ṁ̹eͯͥ́ po̠̊ͩm̢̘p̎u͜sͣ̾ͬ l̘͂̑ȋ͕ͥt͜tle͢͞ bi̛̖ͬg-͑ͅs͎͇̄hͯot̗̔ f̬́̾r__om s͉o͕͍me C̫ͮ-̢Ḻ̞ͮi_̩͛s̢̙ͅṫ̞ s̕͜ṱ̹͆r̷e̿a͈͕̗mi̻n͌g͐̍ c̥o̦m̼ͤͤp̓a̤̋nÿ́́̅.”

Pat squinted down at the victim, shaking his head and offering a little tsk-tsk.

Septic hummed, a vague look of disgust crossing his features. “𝗪⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸,⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗘⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘌̸𝗙⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘠̸ ��̸𝗔⃥𝘠̸ 𝘛̸𝗢⃥𝘖̸ 𝘔̸𝗔⃥𝘕̸𝗬⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸ 𝘙̸𝗨⃥𝘕̸𝗡⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘕̸𝗗⃥.̸ 𝘋̸𝗜⃥𝘋̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗦⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗘⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘖̸ 𝘈̸𝗡⃥𝘠̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘗̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗜⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥?̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘠̸'⃥𝘋̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸ 𝘊̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗢⃥𝘚̸𝗘⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗠⃥?̸”

“He̊̀̈́'͠s̋ͥ b̳e̪̽͛e͉ͧň fuc̨̯͢k̶̿ǐǹġ̛̭ o͙v̸͇͐er tͩ̚h̅͟e̵̞͡ t͔eam̵̿́s͛̉ t̯͢ȟ̦ăt̞̫ h̀̓͟ã͙v̷̨e bͧèͨe̴͂n͗̐ w͇ͮ͊ö̀r̄͢ķ̙́iͧ͜n̸̙̆gͣ wiͫ̑th MY͌ t̺ḧ́e̫̙̫atͯ͢e̻͈ṟ̞ ḻ̾ate̲ly̾,̎́͜” Plier growled, his voice dropping through several octaves. “H̴͑̀e̼̊ͫ j̡us̈̂͟t̉ s̟ͫ͠ee̎m̾s̺_̟ âd̰dͫ͗i͈cte͈d t̹o̭̓̓ cͅh̥u̥͎ͦr͐̄͜n̯͜ͅińg͎̱̋ o͒̆͂u͆͠t_͛ c̸͎̍ơ̗͡m̮̍ͦp̏let̿̿ͅeͭ a̷ndͣ t̶ǫ̨t͍̐aͨ́l SL̗͚_O͈P̭̊ b̵̟ͤe̙͉̪cä̳́us̓̈ḛ it̾'̨͑̚s͆͝ m̀̒ar͙ͫk̈͢͜et̐aͩb͜l̰̇͝e.̇ S̆͠e͕͊éͣms l̞̝̋ik͇̼͐ę͚̀ hȩ t̶h̽ͅrŏ̷̲w̲̦s̃ͭ a l̍̆iţͫͨt͛͘l̟̮͚é̃̿ tͪr̡͛͢aͧ́ͅnt̂r̮u̐ͧm w̘h̟̹̰en͎̳e͍ve̬r̴̮ h͇ͧe͘ g̀e̹̼ts̍͟ å̧_ w̴̺̉hi̛̹ff̯͊͘ o͜f̴̯ͭ cͤo͎ͭm͕ͥp͓͘e̶͋̃tiṭ̴ͮi̷͟o̜̩͘n̈.̵ͣ”

Cruz nodded solemnly. “I’m pretty sure he only visited the theater to try and find something to make a smear campaign about.”

“Wðw,” Pat blurted. “†hå†'§...†hå†'§ jµ§† åw£µl.” 

Though his voice was warped and scattered, there was no doubt how the shock and brief sympathy he’d spoken with was genuine. 

 “Sorry you had to deal with it,” Sol added, fidgeting with their jacket sleeves. 

Cruz could only shrug. “Well, it’s not like he’s gonna bother anyone much longer.”

“𝗘⃥𝘟̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥,̸” Septic grinned. “𝗜⃥𝘕̸ 𝘍̸𝗔⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥,̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗦⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗟⃥𝘋̸ 𝗚⃥𝘖̸ 𝘌̸𝗩⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘔̸𝗢⃥𝘖̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗡⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗚⃥𝘏̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸ 𝘞̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗟⃥𝘋̸!⃥ 𝗬⃥'̸𝗞⃥𝘕̸𝗢⃥𝘞̸,⃥ 𝗖⃥𝘖̸𝗡⃥𝘚̸𝗜⃥𝘋̸𝗘⃥𝘙̸𝗜⃥𝘕̸𝗚⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘈̸𝗖⃥𝘛̸𝗨⃥𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥𝘝̸𝗘⃥𝘚̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥'̸𝗦⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘉̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗧⃥𝘖̸ 𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘗̸𝗣⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥.̸”

He flicked his wrist and snapped his claws twice. 

Instantly, the other two occupied tanks began to tremble and hum. The corpses floating inside them seemed to twitch, their heads snapping up and forcing their lifeless eyes to stare at the metallic ceilings of their makeshift tombs. 

The fluid all around them seemed to begin stirring on itself, creating a soft, slow whirlpool with them in the center. 

Dark red clouds began to billow off of them, their silhouettes getting fainter and blurrier until they completely vanished into the new haze. After that, the movement stopped. 

And then, a low chorus of bubbling and gurgling filled the air, almost like a bathtub being drained. 

Cruz glanced down just in time to see a thick line of blood oozing out through the crevices in the metal. It moved like it was magnetized, like it was a sentient being; it slithered across the floor, just barely trickling against the soles of his shoes.

The other tank copied this gesture, and two viscous carmine threads spilled their way around and beneath the live sacrifice until he was lying in a shallow, perfectly circular pool.

The metallic stench of iron meeting the rich, earthy scent of pumpkin guts…it was certainly an interesting smell. 

Cruz glanced back at the tanks; save for a few thin, stubborn layers of blood still clinging to the inner walls, as well as assortments of gleaming, picked-clean bones sitting at the bottoms in piles, they were now completely empty.

The live sacrifice kept squirming, kept sobbing as the vital fluid licked at his skin. 

“...Why do pumpkin guts have to be included, again?” Moses asked, sounding genuinely curious as he gazed at the mess. 

Pat raised a brow, idly stretching his back and arms in a way that would’ve made even the toughest contortionist on Earth pass out. 

“ßê墵§ê þµmþkïñ ï§ Ðêlï¢ïðµ§,” he answered, voice dripping with incredulousness. He then gestured toward Plier. “̆'§ ðñê 𣠆hê ðñl¥ †hïñg§ HÈ åñÐ Ì ¢åñ ågrêê ðñ.” 

Plier, much to Cruz’s surprise, nodded vigorously. “Yͤeaͧ̉h̖̤ͬ.͕̇ Ȁ͎ͥre̩̭͝n̿͞'͆ţ̐ hͣu̬̐̍m̸̧ͬḁn͂͝͞s̎̓ o̔ḃ̕se͇s̴͔ͅsͫ́e̙d̝ wit̀̅h̥ p̛u̧m̫͐p̃͞k͕̟iͬ̌n͓-͚ͫ͊s̝͑͝p͘i̲̼c̈́̔ed̾̐ s̡̆t̡̬̻u̢͝f̲fͯ arou̬nd̦͚̃ t̼͠h̞̑ͬḯ͢s s͎̓̑ea͆s̞̳̔o͍n͗?”

“Ah, I mean…” Sol replied, a cringe more than evident in their voice. “There’s never really been a straightforward answer to that question.” 

Cruz, feeling the same inexplicable pain, cleared his throat. “So, I’m guessing that even all this blood still isn’t enough?” 

“'̨ͣ̿F͡r̊a͙̍͢id̬͉͚ no͛̐͡t,” Plier replied, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Cruz nodded. 

He, Sol, and Moses all stepped closer to the huge puddle of gore. 

Cruz fished his gut-hook skinner blade from his pocket. He watched as Sol slipped a flint-striker knife from somewhere inside their jacket. Moses, meanwhile, produced a long corkscrew topped by a duck-shaped handle from his breast-pocket. 

“Oh, god…” Sol murmured, an exasperated chuckle floating up from their lungs. 

The way Moses hummed indicated that there was a smug smirk spreading across his features. Somehow, he must’ve guessed that Cruz’s face was lined with confusion under his mask. 

“...What? What’s so funny about a duck corkscrew?” Cruz blurted. 

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Moses shook his head in a pitying manner. “It’s not for me to tell. But if you really wanna know, just look up ‘The Truth About Ducks’ when you get home.” 

Plier sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, suddenly avoiding Cruz’s gaze. 

“Öðh, †hå†'§ ñð† gðññå gð wêll.” Pat muttered, shaking his head.

Cruz sputtered a bit before deciding that he could simply put a pin in whatever mess he apparently wasn’t up to date about and come back to it later. 

He got back to business, gliding the blade of his weapon over the skin of his palm. Cold steel bit into flesh easily, leaving a bright, stinging sensation in its wake. 

Sol did pretty much the same with their striker-knife.

Moses took a deep breath before pushing the tip of his corkscrew deep into the pad of his thumb. 

The three of them held their injured hands out, letting a few fat, rich droplets of their blood fall into the shallow pool below them with a few anticlimactic plops.

“𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸ 𝘚̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥ 𝗕⃥𝘌̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘖̸𝗗⃥,” Septic announced with a nod. He then reached up toward the surface of his tank. With a chorus of organic snaps, his arm was suddenly stretching out through the hatch, the luminescent bones inside all bent and twisted in horrible ways. He held malformed hand directly over the live sacrifice, claws bent, ready to strike. “𝗦⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘌̸,⃥ 𝗚⃥𝘌̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥?̸”

“Ì Ððñ'† §êê wh¥ ñð†,” Pat replied. The skin of his forehead twitched, and an eye bloomed out, almost like a flower. It was larger than his primaries, even darker than his void-esque complexion, with a tiny pale iris floating about its center. 

“Mì̥͔ght̂ a̐s w͈̖ͣe̵lͤl,” Plier admitted. All sixteen of his eyes turned pitch-black, now oozing with oily tears that painted little rivers along the angles of his face. 

The two monsters each outstretched their palms, using their free talons to draw a deep, bloody X into their skin. Septic, meanwhile, pushed his claws into a fist so tight that little steaming droplets eventually squeezed out from between his fingers. 

Once it seemed that enough abomination-juice had been added to the mix, they all retracted their arms. 

Pat slid back and nudged Sol’s shoulder. “†hï§ ï§ whêrê ï† gꆧ ïñ†êr꧆ïñg.” 

And indeed it was. 

The blood started to fester and steam and bubble. That bubbling quickly evolved into a rolling boil as the red started moving, churning in a circle that slowly grew faster. 

Even with his mask on, Cruz’s eyes watered as a smell like volcanic ash, acid, salt, and horror all mixed into some kind of surreal smoothie quickly filled the air.

Whatever the pool was made of…it wasn’t blood anymore. 

It was now a substance that shouldn’t exist.

The live sacrifice let out a truly horrific scream. More depserate and unhinged and feral than any of his earlier cries. The fluid ate into his flesh as it splashed around him, leaving awful lacerations that quickly began melting. 

“Tͭha̕͞t̋̄'̱̀s i͂̌t͚͍̉!ͦ” Plier crowed. “Al̸͉̾l̫ of͕ͭ͘ y̏͟o̵ͩͅu̬͋̆,͈ͅ ge̤̦t͙ b͜͞ac̈́͘k͙͞! D̖o̩ń͚ͦ'̳ͅt l͐͐̈́e̗͓t̛̬ tͪḧ͚ẽ̇ sta̘řś̳̉ t̿͛ͦo̯͊u̸̎c͉̄h͘͠ y͝ou͊̈͊!͟”

Moses immediately ducked behind Septic’s tank. 

Sol backed away, obviously struggling to not look at what was unfolding as Pat raised one of his arms to shield them.

Cruz barely even registered the weight on his shoulder before he was stumbling back into the wall, well out of reach of the pool of gore. And there he sat, transfixed, watching as Plier’s back-thorns twitch and shrank back to reveal a mass of light that seemed to pulse, singing in a language he’d never be able to understand.

Across the room, Pat did the same; the teeth lining his stomach-mouth finally pulled away from one another, releasing the star he’d personally captured. 

As for Septic…well, it was a bit hard to see from his position, but Cruz still managed to watch as Septic plucked the largest eye out from the center of his chest. A third star flew from the now hollow socket, surging out through the tank’s hatch.

As the pool’s churning grew faster and stronger, the air began to thicken and whistle. 

The stars all tried to pull away, likely desperate to escape back to the sky, or wherever place they’d been harvested from. 

But whatever gravitational pull the pool had just couldn’t be escaped. 

One by one, the stars were effectively sucked into the center of the pool, where all that, brilliant, silvery light combined and contorted. 

The live sacrifice let out one final, bloodcurdling death-rattle as the light soaked all over his form in a near-blinding cocoon. 

As if encouraged by that, the horrific mixture of human blood, eldritch blood, and pumpkin guts was suddenly vacuumed up toward the center, all spiraling around, shrinking as it moved faster and faster and faster and…!

And then it was gone. 

Just like that.

Not a single stain was left behind. Not a scrap of gristle remained of the live sacrifice.

(Was it correct to call him live anymore? There was a good chance that he still was, since this stuff always worked in such odd ways. And if he was still breathing, Cruz knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was wishing he couldn’t.)

“𝗪⃥𝘌̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸.⃥.̸.⃥” Septic announced, cringing as he pushed that eyeball back into its chest-socket, where it blinked and rolled a few times to get readjusted. “𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘈̸𝗧⃥.̸” 

Pat hummed assent, his forehead-eye slowly-but-surely sinking back into his flesh. 

Plier shook himself, scrubbing the abyssal tears from his face as the hellish glow returned to all of his eyes.

Moses crept out from behind Septic’s tank. 

Sol stepped forward, staring at the spot where all the gore used to be “...That went by much faster than I thought it would.” 

“†hê ¢l姧 ålw奧 Ðð,” Pat replied, shrugging. 

“𝗕⃥��̸𝗧⃥ 𝗜⃥𝘛̸ 𝘈̸𝗟⃥𝘓̸ 𝘞̸𝗘⃥𝘕̸𝗧⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸𝗙⃥ 𝗪⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗧⃥ 𝗠⃥𝘜̸𝗖⃥𝘏̸ 𝘖̸𝗙⃥ 𝗔⃥ 𝗛⃥𝘐̸𝗧⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥,̸” Septic declared. He nodded to Moses, Sol, and Cruz in turn. “𝗬⃥𝘖̸𝗨⃥ 𝗔⃥𝘓̸𝗟⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘓̸𝗔⃥𝘠̸𝗘⃥𝘋̸ 𝘠̸𝗢⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘈̸𝗥⃥𝘛̸𝗦⃥ 𝗣⃥𝘌̸𝗥⃥𝘍̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗧⃥𝘓̸𝗬⃥.̸”

Cruz nodded back, smiling. “Glad to hear it.” 

Sol visibly perked up, seeming to have gotten all their energy back in the blink of an eye. “Thank you!”

Moses wiped his hands in an overexaggerated gesture. “All in a night’s work.”

For a few long seconds, there was silence. 

As he tucked his gut-hook skinner back into its leather sheath, Cruz decided to break it: “So…is there anything left to do?” 

Septic offered a long, theatrical, conspiratory hum. “...𝗡⃥𝘖̸𝗣⃥𝘌̸. 𝗧⃥𝘏̸𝗔⃥𝘛̸'⃥𝘚̸ 𝘞̸𝗛⃥𝘠̸ 𝘐̸'⃥𝘔̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥𝘕̸𝗡⃥𝘈̸ 𝘎̸𝗢⃥ 𝗙⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘋̸ 𝘚̸𝗢⃥𝘔̸𝗘⃥ 𝗢⃥𝘍̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘖̸𝗦⃥𝘌̸ 𝘊̸𝗢⃥𝘓̸𝗗⃥𝘞̸𝗢⃥𝘔̸𝗕⃥ 𝗟⃥𝘌̸𝗘⃥𝘊̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸𝗦⃥ 𝗜⃥ 𝗦⃥𝘈̸𝗪⃥ 𝗗⃥𝘜̸𝗥⃥𝘐̸𝗡⃥𝘎̸ 𝘛̸𝗛⃥𝘌̸ 𝘚̸𝗧⃥𝘈̸𝗥⃥-̸𝗛⃥𝘜̸𝗡⃥𝘛̸!⃥”

The monster then surged downward, disappearing from his tank and from view entirely. His toxic green glow followed suite, soon casting the basement into shadows.

“CͅoldW͓om͔̉̇b͆̄ Lͅe̝e̱c̬ͤh͎̑͠es̡͍̐?̼̏!̣͖” Plier let out a surprised gasp that seemed to sizzle through the air. “Hey,͠ g̠̽et b̵͖̭a͌͢c̣k̏͑̏ he̥̿́r̺̊e!͚͟ Ỉ̧ͤ ŝ̬aͧ̀w t̶̯͙hẻͨm͊ f̒́̍i̴͇͂r̢̛̊s͇t͆!”

He scuttled across the floor, lunging at the tank…and immediately colliding with Pat, who had just started to climb up its sides himself. 

“Lïkê hêll ¥ðµ ÐïÐ!” Pat snarled, shoving Plier away. His form seemed to dissipating into a shroud of ink and eyes and chattering mouths as pushed himself through the hatch and into the liquid below, quickly swimming down in the same path Septic had. “Ì ¢låïmêÐ †hêm! †hê¥'rê MÌñÈ!”

“N̵̼̙o̘ͫ t͇̪ḧ̥ͧey'̯ͩre͢ n̢̾o̬͂t̅!̐ͯ̈́” Plier protested, furious. He shoved his way through the hatch, his body crumpling and bending in all manner of grotesque ways in order to fit. And soon enough, he was swimming too. “D̹oͮ͑̾n͓'̸t͇ y̒͒o̯̔ų̈́ d̶a͍̼̫re t̯̂ő̒u̷cͮͥ̄h̵̘ 'ëm!͐̾̿ I'̏̐m̏́͐ g̷̢on͊na g̮ḛ̅ͨțͤ t̯̟͂h̘͌͋e͙̫̎r̡e f̺į̶ͤrst͙,̱̰ añ̞̾d̑̈ t̢̬h͠en I_'̐m̌ͮ g̖on͖̦̒na̹̓ e̝at̆͠ '̖e̙ͨm̤̠ a͗ͣl̩l i̵͌n fr̀o̽́n͆t o̺ͪ͌f̝ y͔̕ou̒!”

The twisted voices all crawled grew more and more distant, more and more muffled. The shouts, the arguing, all the promises of dismemberment and such eventually grew so faint that they were almost comparable to whispers. But they never faded completely; wherever the monsters were all headed, it was still somewhere beneath The Oozing Crown.

Cruz pursed his lips as he slowly removed his mask. “They’re probably gonna be occupied for a while.”

“Yeah,” Sol agreed, running a hand through their ginger hair as they took their own mask off. They gave Moses an apologetic look. “I could just start driving back to the museum, but…I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right to leave without Pat.”

After a slight pause, they added, “Plus, I’m pretty sure I need him to guide me away from this place. The roads I had to take on the way are all just so…wrong.” 

“Same here,” Cruz agreed with a nod, thinking about to the headless deer-things he’d seen beside his car hours earlier. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Moses reassured, lightly shaking his head as he pulled the mask away. He considered the situation for a second, then threw his thumb over his shoulder at the catwalk, that the basement door. “...I’ve got some movies upstairs, if you guys are interested.”

@sammys-magical-au @inkbedou @nwtbobsessedemo

[mal-likes-biscuits]

The Picnic - Epilogue

A proper epilogue for this thread with @macabrecabra​, because Magtherius did tell him to be more overt in his affection. Set in Series 2, before Act III and after most of the Series 1 angst has worked its way through. Also after, uhm, other things have happened. You’ll understand.

This is romantic and probably really sappy and there’s absolutely no demon stabbing in it.

“This is quite unusual,” Farah said, smiling as she gathered her zala about her shoulders and followed Malthael out of the library. 

Usually, he appeared at home after her work had ended for the day, or she was forced to interrupt him from his studies in the library in order to get his attention. But today, he had sought her out as she was tidying her desk, with a rather surprising request.

“As you said before,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Quite observant.” The sun was just beginning to dip towards the horizon; the amber glow illuminated tree leaves and the few stray strands of his hair that always managed to escape proper wrangling.

That aside, however, he was uncharacteristically.... well-kept. Not that his usual appearance bothered Farah terribly; she knew it was due to his travels, or his becoming distracted with his research. The months they had spent living together had shown her most of his disorganization was kept to his study and himself. Neither hindered her affection for his person, or his ability to demonstrate the same to her.

But such demonstrations were usually subtle or took the form of the gifts he brought back for her. Fresh clothing, a distinct lack of dirt on his face, and him appearing at the library to take her someplace?

Now, that was strange. Had he not maintained his usual verbal wit, she would have assumed something was wrong. Or that some demon had stolen his form in a poor attempt to abscond with her.

“You are thinking far too much about this,” Malthael chuckled, as he led her through Tristram towards the town’s outskirts. 

“You’ve caught me. Usually you’re the one I accuse of that.”

“Rightfully so.”

“It’s not without reason, though.” She spun to walk side-step, so she could better see him. “This is unusual. And I’m very curious.”

“That is entirely the idea.”

“Are you being coy with me, Malthael?” She grinned wryly, and before he could reply, she skipped ahead through the nearest alleyway; there were only so many places in Tristram he could take her, and given their general direction, she had a fairly good idea where they were going.

“You assume a great deal,” he called, though he made no attempt to redirect her.

“Only because you are being surprising. Did you get an idea from Lyndon?”

“No.”

“Tyrael, then?”

“No.”

“My sister?”

“No.”

“Well, that would explain how you managed to keep this a secret. Tristram has loose lips.”

“Verily. I have my ways. Also, you are assuming I needed ideas.”

That was true, though Farah had enough suspicions to know the surprise was more than likely outside Malthael’s area of expertise. He had already taken steps to dress himself in a way that was beyond his usual habits. She sneaked another glance backward, noting what she had suspected before, which was that his shirt was not only clean – it was new.

“You look quite nice,” she offered genuinely. The least she could do was acknowledge his efforts.

Though, unsurprisingly, the comment also brought a subtle colour to his cheeks. He ducked his head in thanks, the twitch of a smirk flashing across his lips before they were hidden behind his hair.

His footfalls were close behind hers as she charted the deer trail from Tristram to their destination. The meadow was not exactly a secret, but as Malthael often claimed a spot near the pond to read, it saw little use from the other residents. There were still some who preferred the former-reaper keep himself out of sight, and were therefore happy to concede the more remote location to him.

Farah pushed aside a fruit-laden branch and considered what lay before her.

There, under the reading willow, was a crimson blanket, spread tautly across the grass, its corners pinned in place with several metal stakes. On the blanket was a large covered basket, neatly stored beside matching ceramic dishes and utensils. A row of arcane braziers flickered gently, their light dancing in the water’s reflections and in the glass of a wine bottle, unopened and leaning against the trunk of the tree.

“Oh!” She had expected a book, perhaps. Or maybe a mug of tea. But certainly nothing like he had prepared.

He bumped her shoulder gently with his as he walked to the blanket. Then he took a seat crossed legged on it and gestured for her to join him. “Unless, you have somewhere else to be?” His eyes crinkled.

“You are coy,” she managed, her voice tremoring from warm elation. “And this is entirely unlike you.”

He hesitated. “Is it…all right?”

“Of course!” The blanket was soft to touch, woven from the more expensive cottons that were grown in tropical locales. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have implied otherwise. It’s wonderful. It’s just…you really did surprise me. What brought this on? It’s not my birthday.”

The wicker basket rustled as he opened the lid and withdrew several wrapped packets. He still wasn’t looking at her, but the smile had returned to his eyes. “Is a reason always necessary?”

“For you? I would think yes.” She took one of the bundles, helping him unwrap what turned out to be an assorted variety of picnic foods. Hard cheeses, various smoked meats, long-breads that had been drizzled with several types of cooking oils and vinegars.

It was not too different than what she had brought for him in the past. But she had always taken the initiative to do so, assuming he was not comfortable expressing his feelings for her that way. Still, seeing it all set out before her, clearly his doing, touched her far more than their usual private get-togethers did. It wasn’t the food, or the wine, or any of the specifics.

It was the degree he had gone out of his way to do something for her. Not because she had requested it. But because he knew she would like it.

Their fingers brushed as he handed her the last bundle.

“You won’t tell me, will you?” His hands were cold, as always; she wrapped hers around them, silently sharing the warmth. “Your reason?”

He considered their entwined fingers, and the package clasped between them, his expression nearly unreadable, but softening as he shook his head. She waited patiently, knowing he was trying to find the words, as he so often had to do when he spoke about her.

“Perhaps,” he whispered, drawing his thumb across the back of her hand, “you are reason enough.”

When he finally raised his head to look at her, it was with the most naked, disarmed expression she had ever seen him wear. From a man who was always certain about everything, such clear hesitation about his own words, and her reaction to them, said everything.

Malthael had always been astute at giving her whatever she needed, and whenever possible, she had never made him guess. They were stronger that way. But seeing him show her the extent of his inexperience with his own emotions, and his willingness to trust her with that vulnerability—

“That is a good reason,” she whispered in reply. “Now, how about you show me what you have brought? And then we can eat.”

#

The stars shone through the firmament, pinpricks of light that echoed faintly in the now-still waters of the pond. The earlier breeze had all but gone, leaving only the trilling of birds, and the occasional stifled laughter from the two of them. The empty wine bottle lay discarded on the grass, and they had stacked the plates to the side, to allow them to stretch out on the blanket proper.

“I still can’t believe you liked it,” Farah snickered, turning her head to grin at him. “I assumed you’d tried it before and didn’t.”

Malthael raised a finger and gestured absently in the direction of the wine. “It’s not entirely different from mead.”

“It’s made of grapes, pi’ra.”

“Aye, verily.”

“Which are the same as raisins.”

“No, they are not. Grapes have moisture, and substance. Raisins have been leached of any redeemable quality by the Lords of Hell.” He slapped his palm onto the blanket emphatically. “Wine also has moisture, and substance, and flavour. Because it hasn’t been demon-sapped.”

Farah stifled a cackle, though her grin did acquire some teeth. “How very astute of you, Aspect of Wisdom.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were mocking me.”

“Never. Would not dare. I’ve been privy to your revenge on Lyndon often to enough to know better.”

Neither would she point out the slight drawl to his speech, or the way grammatical contractions sneaked into his usually impeccable phrasing once he’d had something to drink. She enjoyed watching him far too much and didn’t want to tip him off too heavily.

“That is wise.” He paused, then snorted loudly at his own joke. “It’s probably best…it’s the two of us.”

“Cowl down?”

“Cowl is…” he shrugged. “Floating on the water, alongside my sobriety. Somewhere.”

“Somewhere. But not here.”

“I still believe you are mocking me,” he muttered, without bite. “And I am not so drunk as to forget how to plot.”

“If you intend to keep me quiet, that may be difficult.” She raised an eyebrow, intentionally imitating his usual gesture.

“Farah. Owing to my apparent…confusion, you may have to be more forthright. Exactly in what way do you assume I will be distracting you?” Then, after a beat, he mirrored the eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face. “Detailed, if possible.”

“I meant nothing of the sort!” she sputtered, though she knew the mirth in her words gave away the truth.

“I am sensing…dishonesty.”

“And how will you prove it? Scry the Chalice?”

“Mmm, I think not. I think I know you quite well, indeed.” He trailed off, giving her a chance to ponder the joke they’d often tossed back and forth between each other, ever since she’d first caught him off-guard with a particularly effective flirtation.

“Ah, then what am I thinking?”

“If I were to guess,” he murmured, before shifting to her side and wrapping an arm loosely about her. “I assume…” His hair tickled across her face as he leaned close, his forehead gently tapping hers.

He waited for her, as always. She took the moment to close her eyes and absorb the moment. The soft whispers of the night, and the trace of the wine on his breath. Underneath, the always present hints of pine and smoke that were his scents.

“Just this,” she whispered. “No more. I won’t have you over-indulge me to your own detriment because of wayward grapes. Promise?”

“You have my word.”

“Also, I know I enjoy reading about these sorts of things all the time, but it’s not entirely the best climate to do this outside—”

“Farah.” She shivered as he slowly traced his fingers down her cheek. “I brought a quilt.”

Oh. He really had thought of everything. “Sneaky.”

“Verily. Did you expect otherwise?”

“From you? No.” And truthfully, she was more concerned about his respect for his own boundaries than the weather. But she also trusted him, implicitly. And she could help him keep his promise. “I think that is why I love you.”

He pulled her closer, exhaling briskly, the same as he did nearly every time she said it. Then, so quietly, it was almost lost to the night: “And I, you.”

Words she never thought she would hear spoken, and on the heels of an evening already filled with the unexpected. Perhaps it was finally the right time, for him. Or perhaps something else had driven him to it. She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. It was a thought for another night.

She carefully snaked an arm behind his head, and when he didn’t protest, she buried her fingers in his hair and gently pressed her lips to his.

#####

[Oh hey look @oyeedraw they managed to kiss in writing. >:D]

[mintchocolatechipnut]

bakugou cooking for his crush

Okay I just had the cutest idea: Bakugou falling for a classmate that's a really good eater. One day she stumbles across his food in the common fridge without knowing he cooked it. She steals a bite and is smitten with his food. And Bakugou, having seen the whole thing, becomes smitten with her.

Note: How this idea came about I have no clue... I just remember writing the entire thing on my phone at my grandparents’ house and really having fun writing it. To be honest, I don’t have the best grasp on Bakugou’s character, but I tried... For all my fellow food lovers out there!

Tags: more tooth-rotting fluff (the domestic kind), attempts at showing character development through cooking, Bakugou’s tough love (but of course, you’re here for that)

Word count: 3.5k

So I'm imagining that Bakugou likes to keep his cooking skills on the down low, because who knows if idiots like Kirishima and Kaminari show up and start whining at him to cook them food, and he doesn't want to be teased as being 'domestic'

He doesn't think there's anything wrong with cooking since he's able to take care of himself and his health, but if his squad saw him in the kitchen in his apron he wouldn't ever be able to live it down

That said, he brings his freshly cooked meals into his room and opens his windows so the smell doesn't linger, and he stores his leftovers in the deep recesses of the fridge where no one would ever think to look, not even food thieves

Luckily or unluckily for him, you were no ordinary food thief.

Bakugou is on his way downstairs because he's feeling peckish and wants to heat up some of the leftovers of his favourite dish, so imagine his shock and anger when he sees you and Sero poring over the blue Tupperware housing his food

Before he can take a single seething step, though, you've already spooned a bite into your mouth

His eyes widen, and now he's really mad that an extra like you had the audacity to eat his food

But then you let out a near inhuman noise, and it sounds… intensely satisfied?

'Oh my god, who cooked this?' Unable to contain your excitement you're shaking Sero by the shoulders, lips drawing up in a contented smile. 'This is the best thing I've ever tasted!'

For some reason, Bakugou's not so mad anymore. Obviously because for an extra like you, at least you had taste

But something about the pure joy in your expression made Bakugou feel… guilty that he was going to stop you

It's absurd because if anyone should be feeling guilty, it's you

As he's thinking this, the snap of the closed Tupperware brings him back to his senses, and all of a sudden he's fleeing the scene so he's not discovered

He's even more bewildered because there's no reason for him to be running away, and he hates running away

But somehow he felt a bit awkward and… embarrassed after hearing what you had to say about his food

With that he decided that he'd let it go once, and maybe seal his container a bit tighter

But he's sorely mistaken the next morning at the breakfast counter when you begin gushing about his food once more

Remember when he thought that you should've felt guilty for eating his food? There's not an ounce of shame in your words, though.

You tell the story of your tastebuds' meeting with heaven when you and Sero found a container full of something inside the fridge, and out of curiosity, you decided to take a peek

'I didn't mean to eat it, I swear I didn't! But it just looked so good, and I could imagine how it tasted… but boy did it taste so much better than that!'

Bakugou's left reeling at this praise, and there's an uncomfortable feeling upsetting his stomach as he tries to wolf down his cereal, trying not to think about how your words made his ears burn

Then the punchline: 'If we have a guy in our class who cooks like this, I'd marry him in a heartbeat!'

Bakugou nearly spits his milk

Luckily no one notices, and are instead calling you out for your food thievery or watching your animated hand gestures

On his walk to class, Bakugou has no idea how he feels about this; he just wants to banish it to the corners of his mind so he wouldn't have to waste time thinking about something that shouldn't have mattered so much before

Right before he steps into class he's met with a flashback of your smile when you ate his cooking, and suddenly a plan pops into his brain

…

You show up in the kitchen the next few days, wanting to see if the 'blue Tupperware man' struck again with his fantastic dishes

More often than not, you're met with disappointment, but your eyes light up when you see the familiar blue sticking out in your vision when you open the fridge one day

You're shocked to find a note attached: 'To Y/N: I know you've been eating my food. You can only have a bite of this, but not one more. Don't think I can't tell if you do, I WILL know.'

You're all around mortified, though you realise you really shouldn't be: practically everyone heard your declarations of food thievery that day

But the last line drove home the fact that the person who cooked this was here, and was indeed a student

The first thing you do is scan the area behind you for any immediate signs of life, in case the chef had been watching you

But when nothing turns up, you shrug, and rub your hands together in excitement

You swear you could hear stifled laughter, but the lure of the food in front of you was too much to overcome in favour of an investigation

As you eat and, once again, fail to be disappointed, Bakugou's eyes are trailing your face

There it is: the same expression, if not even better than he remembered, that you put on when you ate good food

And suddenly, Bakugou wants to see that expression more

The next few times a similar note addressed to you accompanies every meal, but when you tried to reply you wouldn't get an answer back

Then one day, the notes just stopped. You felt sad for a while, but then perked up when you saw the contents of the Tupperware, containing some of your favourite ingredients

From then on it was a given that you could eat from the blue Tupperware, and not more than three bites

You still cringe at the stinginess, leading to Bakugou muffling his chuckles every time

He doesn't come and watch you eat every time, because it's creepy, for one thing

But sometimes he'd be in his room, just knowing that you'd be tiptoeing down the stairs in anticipation of what's in the fridge, and a small grin would tug at the corners of his mouth

He'd also made it clear that no one else would attempt to try his food. Once Kaminari tried to sneak a bite, but when he opened the container the stench of rotting beans knocked him out

Bakugou cackled as he dragged Kaminari back to his room, but not before switching out the containers with the one meant for you

He's also quick to throw anyone who's out to discover him off the scent (ha)

Besides doing so in the literal sense, as with Kaminari, Bakugou makes sure to stay out of everyone's radar in the kitchen, and even goes as far to put your portion in a separate pink Tupperware, with your name on it

Yeah, no way would such a sappy move be from blasty boy Bakugou, right?

You'd been playing this game for a few weeks now when you just can't take it anymore

Bakugou awakes one morning to discover a text message from you in the group chat:

'To the person who always leaves me food (aka blue Tupperware!!), please PLEASE show yourself! I really want to get to know the person who makes such wonderful food!'

He felt his heart swell, and he's painfully reminded of your first words of how you'd marry him for his cooking

He's grateful he's blushing alone in his room

At this declaration in the group chat, however, more and more 'investigations' are popping up

Deku is a particularly difficult person to distract and Bakugou hates it

But so far he's been keeping it together, all he has to do is stick it out a bit longer

That's when Mineta of all people tries to impersonate him

Bakugou's infuriated when he's checking on you one night and you fish a note out of your container

'What's this?' you muse aloud, and begin reading it out aloud, much to Bakugou's benefit, 'Meet me behind the dorms tomorrow after school. I'll show you who I am.'

Bakugou knows it's definitely not him who wrote it, but he can't stop the rage arising in his chest when he sees your eyes light up in excitement

Who is this impostor and when and where would they like their ass being whooped?

Bakugou decides once again to investigate in his usual ninja fashion that he's perfected from watching you

He follows you to the back of the school discreetly, where you bounce on the balls of your feet in impatience

Suddenly a familiar purple head emerges from the bushes, and Bakugou has to physically restrain his palms from crackling

'Mineta?' He's happy that your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of him, but he's suddenly left reeling when he has an introspective moment about why he's been playing this game all along

He felt too afraid to face you. Too afraid to show his domestic side, and too afraid to come clean and say he cares. He knows he doesn't have the best personality in class, but he really wants your impression of him as ‘blue Tupperware’ to stay untainted and pristine

What would you think, then, if you discovered that your mystery chef was the abrasive, antagonistic Katsuki Bakugou, who didn't seem to have an ounce of empathy for anyone? Even worse, would you believe him even if he told you?

More than what it would do to his reputation, he realised that he didn't want you to see him in a bad light at all.

However, he's also mentally kicking himself because now bastards like Mineta can come and impersonate him

However, the words that leave your mouth makes him still

'You're the Blue Tupperware guy? Prove it.' There's a challenging smile atop your lips as you stare down Mineta, who falters from his previously smug swagger

'What do you mean? I cook you food, you love it. That's all there is to it, right?' A derisive laugh leaves you.

'Then tell me the names of the dishes you've made for me.' Mineta stands stock still, trying to comprehend what you've just asked of him. The beads of sweat now trailing down his neck don't escape your notice.

After some painful stammering and guesswork, then a beat of silence, you sigh. 'I kind of thought this would happen.'

'However, if it really honestly had been you, I wouldn't be mad. Because if I knew you were the one cooking with so much care and love, I'd still thank you for the meals.'

Bakugou's head goes blank. His hands begin sweating uncontrollably, and he's brought back to his senses when he hears his palms pop.

As he controls his quirk he's desperately trying to make sense of what you just said, but only one word rings out clear and true in his brain.

'Love'.

And suddenly he's trying not to grin at your epic shutdown of Mineta, trying not to feel his heart flutter when he pictures your multitude of expressions in all their glory, and trying not to remember the feeling of when he'd lie in his bed at night, the last thought he has before he drifts off to sleep being 'what should I cook next?'

He's in love with—

The sounds of footsteps coming in his direction shake him out of his reverie and he all but dives behind a pillar as you march off, leaving Mineta in the dust

Before the purple-haired pervert can leave, however, he's suddenly held up by the collar of his shirt, eyes wide before a murderous red gaze

'Try one more thing with her and I'll make sure you don't wake up the next day.'

…

From then on, Bakugou's mood lifts considerably.

Not only is he confident Mineta wouldn't rat him out (all he has to do is shoot him a glare), but he's eternally proud of how you stood up for him

Speaking of which, can he take your words you spoke to Mineta that day to mean that you wouldn't at all feel uneasy with whoever Blue Tupperware was, as long as you knew it was really him?

Now he's stuck with thinking of ways to shoot his shot

Little does he know that chance might come sooner than he thought…

One day he's running late because his work studies ran overtime

He'd planned to make something a little more complicated and out of his repertoire, though it may take him longer than usual

Though when he'd discovered what you liked to eat through your conversations with friends and what you ate in the cafeteria, he didn't mind, couldn't mind the extra hassle at all

It's not a difficult recipe, but he knows that it'll be dinnertime soon and that'd be dangerous

He looks at the clock, noting the twenty minutes he has before the first students come trickling into the common room. You won't be here until thirty minutes after. So he locks himself in the kitchen and gets to work

(yes I now know it doesn’t make sense for him to not be discovered in the kitchen during dinnertime, so let’s just say no one usually wanders in because all the meals are usually laid out in the common room when dinner rolls around)

He's smiling as he spoons the freshly cooked food into the Tupperwares, letting it cool for a bit as he washes up

But when he turns around holding them in his hands to put into the fridge, he freezes

There you stand in the doorway, eyes wide

'... Bakugou?' Damn, he would've relished the sound of his name on your tongue if you hadn't been looking at him like… like that. 'Are you Blue Tupperware?'

As much as he wants to laugh at the stupid nickname, he knows how straightforward and sharpshooting you can be with your words and intentions. And so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is:

'So what if I am?'

A beat of silence, then two. And suddenly your face morphs from bewilderment to pure joy, maybe even purer than when you eat his food. God bless his eyes that could bear witness to that moment.

'It's you!' you exclaim and a laugh as hearty as your appetite leaves your lips, and he's just awed, amazed. 'Thank you for the food!'

…

The immediate aftermath was everyone gaping at the both of you as if you each grew two heads as you ate from your respective containers

Sitting across him, you ask, 'Well… why did you do it?'

He’d imagined that you’d ask something like that, and he’s prepared an answer for it, but the eagerness in your smile, along with every other eye on him, prompted him to instead blurt:

'To… to stroke my ego and shit.'

Everyone goes painfully silent except for you, who leans back and laughs, 'As expected of you, Bakugou! But either way I get to eat really well, so thank you!'

You've been saying thank you for a while now, but what he can't get out of his head is that you expected him to be all narcissistic about cooking you food for his own selfish reasons? Man does that hurt.

But somehow, the others buy it too (which just really goes to show how much of a jerk the class paints him out to be), and the case of Blue Tupperware is solved

Now all that's changed is you pop in occasionally when Bakugou's cooking, and there are nights where you eat together

Oh, and the fact that he now knows you can’t cook for shit

You’ve tried to help Bakugou cook before, but at the time he'd felt as if he was in for a very rude awakening

However you are a god at cooking instant noodles of any shape or kind, so much so that when he misses you (or craves you lol) he eats instant noodles

Then again they'd never taste quite the same as when you cook them asifkajdks

When he actually confesses it's when you, out of the goodness of your heart, ask if you can help him out once more

He always finds himself giving in btw

But then you burn another pot and it's tough not to get frustrated

He's under stress, the weight of his sweat on his brow coupled with his ever growing feelings for you leads him to have even less of a filter on his mouth

'You obviously suck at this.' he says, noting your sad puppy eyes and willing himself not to surrender. 'Just let me do it.'

'But I feel bad that you're always cooking for me, and all I do is enjoy it.' You're biting your lip now, and it's all Bakugou can do before he starts thinking about what it'd be like to push you against the sink and kiss you senseless.

'Nonsense. It's enough that you enjoy my cooking, so let me do it. Let me take care of you.'

That last part did slip out, as denoted by the look on your face

'Wow,' again your straightforwardness comes into play, 'that sounded like a confession right there if I've ever heard one!'

Before he can stop himself—'do you wish it was?'

'Huh?'

'A confession—do you wish it was one?'

He watches your cheeks go tomato red and you purse your lips

'Do you wish that I wish it was?'

Aw, now you just playin

'I'm not hearing a no.'

'Neither am I.'

And then you nerds proceed to stare each other down in a palpable silence, the only sounds being the bubble of the soup in the pot before you

Who confesses first?

'Dumbass. I like you.'

You instantly beam, and you jump into his arms, even though you're dangerously close to the fire. Bakugou blanches, then draws you away from the stove

'Oi, watch it! You could get hurt, idiot,' but you're too focused on the way his arms had naturally wrapped around you to keep you safe and shielded

'You'll protect me, won't you?' you say, smushing your cheek against his chest. Bakugou sighs and places a hand on your head soothingly

'You bet I will.'

Bonus scene! “And that's how your father and I got together,” you say with a smile, as your four year old son bounces excitedly in your lap, while your six year old rolls her eyes at the amount of times you've told this story. “Yeah, we get it Mom.”

Your son has a different take on it though. “Start again! Again, again!” You let out a sigh mixed in with a chuckle at his insistence, but just then the wafting aroma of shrimp hits your nose. You close your eyes as you feel footsteps coming closer, and the warmth of your husband leaning in close to you as he sets the table leaves you giddy.

“Okay, that's enough storytelling for today,” Katsuki grumbles, placing the shrimp pesto on the table. Your daughter instantly perks up at the sight; she might not be as good an eater as you are, but she has a particular fondness for pasta. “Yay! It's pasta time!”

You set down your son in his chair as his eyes gleam at the feast in front of him, then walk up to your husband. 'Thank you so much, babe,' you relish the sight of Katsuki's ears, previously stained red from listening to your 'story', turning even redder.

“If you really want to thank me, there's something you need to do,” Katsuki mutters in a low voice, his gaze surreptitiously looking down at himself. You follow his eyes, and immediately burst out laughing.

“You're wearing it for us!” You'd really like to capture a photo of him in the 'Kiss the Chef' apron you'd gotten him for his birthday last year as a gag gift. Could Katsuki turn any redder?

“Shut up! Who burned my other apron the other day, hmm?”

This time you blush. “Maybe it was an expert ploy to get you to wear this,” you laugh, and before a snappy retort can leave his lips, you're smothering them with your own mouth. “Love you.”

You embrace him, arms lazily reaching for the apron strings in order to tug them undone, but your husband is pulling you in too, hands on your waist as he tucks your head in the corner of his neck so you can't see him or hear his next words too well. But you hear them nonetheless.

“I love you too.'”

[tophthedaydreamer]

Zippy’s Story

A masterpost of Zippy Zephyr’s story!!!! If you want to read, check it out under the cut!!!!!

The year is 1995. Well, actually, it’s going to be 1996! It’s New Year’s Eve at the Warner Bros. Studio lot, and all the workers and toons are living it up until midnight. A gaggle of drunk animators are having a doodle challenge together, drawing silly pictures to amuse each other. One animator decides to make a parody character of the Warner siblings, toons who were once locked up in the Warner Bros. water tower and now are causing mayhem around the lot. Drawing up the design for the toon, the animators have their giggle and jaunt off elsewhere.

Later, at the stroke of midnight, a gloved hand emerges from the doodle. Zippy Zephyr is born!

Like the characters she was based off of, Zippy is a zany toon with a love for chaos. She trashes the office and freaks out a janitor. She is apprehended by Ralph the guard and brought to the CEO, Mr. Plotz.

Instead of erasing the toon, Plotz decides to keep her around as a tester for toon weapons at the ACME Gag Factory. Humans had previously tried to perform the task and there had been some… casualties. And since toons are indestructible (and he needed some way to keep Zippy out of trouble), Plotz “hired” Zippy to do the job. 

In order to ensure Zippy was kept in line, she was given a “supervisor” named Hank Wu, who visited her every few weeks to make sure she met her “quota” of weapons prepared for delivery.

Hank was very kind to Zippy (earning the nickname “Hanky-Danky Banana Fanna Fo Franky” from the toon), and whenever he visited he would bring a gift for her. Snacks, toys, new clothes, movies, you name it! Eventually, Zippy began developing her own personality, shaped by all the films and music she absorbed. She’s become a sort of skater-dude, hippie, and punk rebel.

Despite her fairly comfortable life, Zippy is very isolated. Sure, she gets a peek of the outside world through her movies, but she wants to know what real life is like. As the years pass into decades, Zippy’s resolve grows even stronger.

One day, Plotz steps down as CEO, and taking his place is Nora Rita Norita. Zippy hopes that under new management, she’ll be set free and get to see the world. Her hopes are sadly dashed when she realizes that Norita has no intentions of letting her go.

But all is not lost. In 2018, intruders break into the Gag Factory.

The Warner siblings! They are the very first toons Zippy has ever met. The Warners are equally shocked that another toon like them exists. After learning about her story, they decide to help Zippy break out one night through a hole they made in the roof so she can see the city. 

Zippy is amazed by everything she sees. Who knew gasoline could smell that bad, but so good at the same time?! After this glorious experience, the Warners and Zippy make it a habit to break out every night. They become like cousins to her.

One night, Zippy was caught while sneaking out! As punishment, the hole in the roof is plugged up, and the roof is coated in toon-proof material. All hope seems lost, and Zippy feels that she is doomed to spend the rest of eternity by herself.

But she isn’t alone anymore.

The Warners learn of her plight and alert the Looney Tunes, Warner Bros.’ top toon stars. Using human tools against the toon-proof material, they break open a high up window and help Zippy escape.

Zippy is kept hidden at Oswald the Lucky Rabbit’s home while the Looney Tunes talk (fight) over Zippy’s freedom with the Warner Bros. executives. The Looney Tunes essentially hold Zippy “hostage” until Warner Bros. meets their demands. Eventually, the two parties come to an agreement and Zippy is freed! She is adopted by Daffy Duck, and is living happily with the Looney Tunes.

[rickyandgina]

Season 2 Predictions

Section 1 characters- Nini: YAC. I'm almost 100% sure that she goes, it would be such a shame if she didn't take this amazing opportunity and allow herself to experience something on her own. But if she doesn't then what? Well as we know there is going to be rival school in the next season. North high. Maybe she goes here? In the limited amount of promo photos released from season 2, she's absent. Aside from what seems to be the first episode. My theory is that she may not get as big of a role in play and go somewhere else where she feels more appreciated . IDK but I'm guessing there is going to be a major arc for Nini venturing off to find herself outside of East high and her relationship with Ricky. Whether that be Youth Actors Conservatory or NHS. We wanna see growth girl!

Ricky: Ricky, I'm more unsure about. I think he's complacent in his relationship with Nini and is comfortable with having his security blanket back. Obviously the news from Nini is going to shake him and mirror his breakdown after his parents and them separating. Do they separate though? I don't think so... It would such a fan disservice to spend all season building them up only to break them down again an episode later. What I do think is that his main strory-line is going to be learning to cope with people not always going to be around and how to make relationships work that aren't always 100 percent perfect. Also I think that we will see him really getting into theatre for himself and taking it more seriously the second time around.  Without Nini there I don't think he will try out for the main role- I'm guessing Gaston as there's promo photos of him acting out a scene that just seems so like that character. Also there's the question of Gina and his relationship with her being unresolved,,, but I'll talk more about that later.

EJ: Oh, I am so excited to see his character next season. He arguably got the best development last season and we can already see this change. With Ricky maybe out of the picture? I think we'll see him try out for the main role and get it. The beast just fits his storyline so perfectly and I think it would be such a shame for them not to go that route. It's also his last semester at the school and nice way to wrap up his storyline and send him off. Or they could go the route of Gaston for him, but ehhh Idk. It just seems like reverting. BUT there's also episode 2 (type casting) so we will see. Overall I think we will see him be the person he was becoming in the last few episodes. More kind, caring, and not so into himself (maybe a little tho). His relationship with Gina is obviously is going to develop- hopefully friendship- and I think that it is going to be nice seeing these two characters who were so vain and focused on winning last season be able to lean into one another. Let's look forward to likeable EJ.

Gina: My girl. My bean. My ride or die. I am so excited to see her next season, it's a little unhealthy lol. Okay, so for her I am also uncertain where they are going to take her character. She obvi stays from the promos. But what does that mean? Clearly she was struggling with her decision so I think that will be her main story line for episode 1- in the end her choosing to stay. I think this will be mirrored with Nini choosing to leave, then from there just straight up DRAMA. From the promo photos we see her, Kourtney, Ashlyn all in the auditorium trying out. From the looks of it, it seems like they are all trying out for the same part. Belle??? If she gets the part... I don't think so. It just doesn't seem like her time yet. So where does this leave us? Maybe she also goes to North High where she can shine brighter and bigger... maybe she stays. I could see it both ways, Gina is not used to being somewhere for long and it is so in character for her to go off to find something new and better for herself. This could lead us to her having to face off against her friends and roommate, struggling in doing so. Or they could have her stay, not get the main role and snag a smaller part. Having her stay would allow them to develop her relationship with Ricky. Especially with Nini gone. Idk either way I'm excited to see her and all her new friendships with the crew.

Carlos: I think once again we will see him as Ms.Jenn's right hand man. Running the play and being his beautiful controlling self. Maybe he gets a smaller role in play as well. These are only the minor parts of his story. What's the big stuff? SEB! I really think they are going to develop this relationship more, hopefully we will get to see them together and happy. Not just happy though, what's a good romance without hardship? Being queer and in high school is not easy for a lot of teens, though while in their bubble of theatre kids they are all accepting and happy, maybe they will show the other side of this, of people who aren't so willing to see things differently. Out of the two I think Carlos would be the one to struggle with this. Clearly Seb is not afraid to be who he is and own it. So maybe we will get to see them struggle through this together, and obviously come out on top in the end.

Seb: I'm hoping he will get a bigger role in the play, what role though? Idk its hard to say. But as we know he's becoming a series regular so we will get to know more about him. Maybe about his home life and the relationship he has with his family. We know that his family works on a farm and he's expected to do that too. So maybe we will see him stand up to his parents and take control of his life.  Overall I'm just hoping and thinking that they will develop his character more and allow us to see a different side of him outside of the theatre and in a more realized setting.

Kourtney: She is so going to shine this season! Main role? You bet ya.. I think she's getting the part of Belle. Or at least fights for it. From the way the last season ended and them alluding to having more in store for her, and the announcement of the second season, all dressed in yellow. It just makes sense. This girl is so talented and ready to take center stage. I'm also thinking they're going to introduce a romance for her... hopefully. It would so fun to see her get her love story. I'm thinking one of the new characters that is going to be introduced as there really aren't any prospects in the cast already. We'd love to see it! On the other side, maybe she doesn't and goes to North High? IDK Tim said that people go over there, so we will see.

Ashlyn: Another one of my favs, can't wait to see her and Gina's relationship. She is obvs going to be like a big sister to Gina, guiding her and helping her through her second semester. Again, I see bigger things for her in this upcoming series. Big Red, need I say more? So clearly they are going to showcase this couple and develop them more as the season goes on. Big part of her story line this season. Moving onto the play, again, in the sneak peeks we see her with Gina and Kourtney trying out. I think she is going to take a leap and tryout for Belle and fail. Maybe this takes a shot to her confidence and we get to see her struggling with not being chosen. Having to take a back seat again, IDK. I could see it happening. Anyways, I think the points of her plotline are mainly going to be about her relationship with Big Red and her stepping up and into the spotlight.

Big Red: The Lefou to Ricky's Gaston? Probably. I think this season he will get a role in the play, it's only fair. Larry is sooo talented they have to let him tap dance his heart out and kill his role in the production. Again we will see him be support a system for Ricky and him dealing with Nini and all of their drama, but he's going to have his own going on too. I think that we will see A LOT of miscommunication between Ashlyn and Big red. They just aren't that great at communication. Clearly. This could be a big source of drama for him and his story line and allow us to see more of him and the writers to develop his character outside of the nerd archtype. I really hope.

[janewatson]

Helluva Boss Trailer Analysis!

Yes, I watch this.  Yes, I like it.  No, I won’t argue with you about it.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s just say that I was up when the trailer dropped, and was still up for a bit after.  I’ve watched it so many times now, just absorbing everything, and now it’s time to break it down.

I’ve seen a few breakdowns already, but I noticed that there were a few things people hadn’t mentioned.  So I’m tossing my hat in the ring, let’s see if we can figure out what Vivziepop has in store for us!

I’ll be breaking down by scene, as well as go over voiceovers and predictions real quick, so prepare for a read after the cut!

Ok, first, had to laugh at Millie’s Peppermint Vodka Molotov Cocktail.  Creative, but what a waste of vodka :(  The background is of a beach, but she’s not in beach clothes (let’s face it, a bikini would probably kill Moxxie)

Moxxie is shooting at something while he’s swinging from a rope in a deserted theater.  Piano on the floor, and a sun pattern on the back wall

Blitzø (thanks for the copy/paste, Google) cleaving a blonde in half with a baseball bat.  Damn, he stronk!

Diss Summar’, with the little doodles!  So cute :3

Drunk/drugged/in shock Moxxie, poor Millie, and something big bursting out from the water behind.  Tied to first scene?

Stolas’ ‘Special Access’ bit from the Sneak Peeks, talking about the Harvest Moon festival in Wrath

Moxxie and Blitzø in a green lit room, looks like a two-way mirror on the wall.  Interrogation?

Correction to ‘Diss Season’ XD  Hopefully that means we’ll get an episode before spring, but if they need more time, that’s understandable

Glammed up Stolas at some kind of burlesque, owned by Asmodeus ‘Ozzie’, Prince of Hell’s Lust circle.  Wonder why he’s there...

CHERUBS!!!  Also from the Sneak Peeks, we know that this is a commercial, and that the TV showing said commercial gets blown up a few seconds later

Angry Blitzø, probably yelling at Moxxie, being scared shitless by a hellhound behind him.  I think this is a repo/impound/chop-shop guy who took IMP’s van, as in a later scene, they’re shown in a fence with other cars, especially because Blitzø yells ‘RUN’ at the end of the scene

Loona and Blitzø filming someone’s misery (again, probably Moxxie).  They’re in western outfits, but they’re probably still in Hell

Tentacle wrapping around drugged Moxxie and taking him, too fast for Millie to react and stop it.  Again, looks like it’s tied to the first and fifth scenes

Sassy Blitzø, probably talking to the repo-hellhound or punching-bag Moxxie.  Same setting as scene 11

Blitzø running to the window of what looks like a recording studio, with ‘VM’ spray painted on the doors next to him.  He looks distraught, but it’s not clear why

Recently choked-out Moxxie recovering, while being frame by a spiny-tailed Imp wearing what I assume is a serape, since it looks like they’re on the ranch Loona and Blitzø cheered a poor soul, scene 12

DEPRESSED BIRD DADDY.  WHY ARE YOU SAD???  IS IT GONNA MAKE ME SAD??? OH NO I’M NOT READY unless its a flashback, but stilllll

Perturbed Blitzø holding his special flintlock in a western-themed room.  Looks like he has his outfit from scene 12 on, probably the same episode, but whatever happened/is going to happen, it’s not good

Dressed-up Moxxie, who probably jumped bombed a performance, is upstaged by Robo Fizz and most likely a Robo Ozzie, given the designs on its’ head(s).  He looked uneasy even before the Robos popped up, so something else was going on first.

Scaley eye blinking and getting MAD, attached to the tentacle that kidnapped Moxxie?

50% off add for Spring Break victims, complete with coffee stain, and Blitzø‘s horse doodles.  I got a mental image of Moxxie scolding Blitzø for drawing at work, so he BS’d it into an ad.

Either Blitzø is a terrible driver, or they’re trying to speed away from someone.  Repo-hound, maybe?

HUMAN!!!  Almost definitely a human pop-star singing on a Coachella-esque stage!  I tried to fill in her name, but could only get ideas of what some letters were.  Her initials are most likely VM, from the recording studio scene, but the bottoms of some letters could be an E or L, K or R, so we’re left with V~(L/E)(K/R)OSI(K/R)A MA~~.  It also looks like she’s wearing heels, so she may be the person who threw Blitzø in a later scene

Moxxie about to be trampled by what can only be a horse, given his outfit.  Loona and Blitzø are probably filming XD

Shocked Stolas, standing up at table.  Same outfit as the burlesque, but he doesn’t looked surprised enough that it’s the part where Moxxie is upstaged, more something emotionally jarring.  Blitzø kissing someone else, maybe?

Blitzø pushing Moxxie out of the way and pinning him just outside a Hell portal in an alley, most likely Earth.  Blitzø looks mad, and rightly so, as he’s looking a little beat up himself.  Connected to the interrogation scene?

Happy Blitzø turns horrified outside some elevators with Moxxie.  Judging by the water cooler in the back, I think he’s about to slam into the recording studio.  Behind him, Moxxie gives no shits

Blitzø looking miffed, maybe at something Moxxie said.  Looks like the same scene with the repo-hound, as the setting itself looks like an impound lot, with the IMP van smack-dab in the middle of it.  I love that the license plate is IMP-666 though

Unhappy Blitzø (ok, let’s be honest, when IS he happy?)

Moxxie swinging Millie around in the deserted theater, passionately frenching each other

Blitzø getting pushed down by a horned, high-heeled... someone.  Again, might be the pop star from earlier, but there’s horns...  Maybe the pop star is human-passing, and has an alternate demonic form, like the Hazbin Hotel cast?

Western-clad Blitzø pulling his flintlock on someone, most likely before scene 18.  Most definitely Hell, judging by the poster and previous scenes, but I’m digging the décor

Blitzø not getting a break at all during this trailer and being yeeted into a dumpster, which closes on him.  Gonna take a stab and say it’s outside the burlesque Stolas and Moxxie were in, from the colors and posters of Lust Ring, Personal Companion Robo-Fizz, and Angel Dust.

The next scene is of him climbing out of a dumpster to fall into another pile of trash.  He just doesn’t get a break, does he?  It doesn’t look like the dumpster outside the burlesque, but it is similar to the alley with the hell portal, where Blitzø pinned Moxxie.  Maybe not the same scene, but most likely same episode.

Editor being absolutely plastered, teasing all the fun stuff to come in 2021, since 2020 can go f*ck itself.

And that’s a really in-depth breakdown of all the scenes in the trailer!  Now, for the voiceovers.

First, Loona’s asking if anyone ‘Can feel that?’.  Interesting thing to ask, so we’ll have to wait and see what catastrophe happens

Millie gently yelling at Moxxie to ‘DON’T PANIC’

A calm voice announcing an elevator’s departure to the Lust circle of Hell, which is most likely where the burlesque and Robo scenes are.  As to who is going, it’s either Stolas or the IMP crew, or maybe both?

Horny Stolas cooing ‘Oh, Blitzy!’, followed by Loona’s ‘SHUT THE F*CK UP’ from the Loo Loo Land episode.  Finally, I have a high-res clip I can set as my ringtone!

Blitzø yelling  ‘Dammit, Moxxie, this is all your fault!’, which may or may not be true since he scapegoats Moxxie, who replies ‘How is this my fault???’

Pop star asking, ‘Y’all ready to get f*cked up and make some b*tchin’ bad choices?’.  It’s most likely her talking, since the her lips synch up with her scene, and it’s a new voice we haven’t heard before.

Moxxie’s cut off ‘M*THERF*CKER!!!’.  So happy I get to hear Invader Zim go off, poor boy needs it XD

Blitzø being Blitzø and trying to tone down a big deal, stating again that he doesn’t pry into their personal lives, even though he obvious does (see Helluva Boss Pilot for more)

Robo Fizz’s line from Loo Loo Land asking if anybody loved Blitzø.  I’m gonna be honest and say that line choked me up in Loo Loo Land, and so did Blitzø’s response, until ‘But I’m really good with guns now.  DANCE, B*TCH!’

Moxxie ending with ‘That is deeply unsettling’, again from Loo Loo Land.  Throwing shade on Helluva Boss haters, maybe? :3

All right, now, predictions!

Chaos in a theater, with focus maybe on Millie and Moxxie’s relationship, maybe an origin story?  It won’t be the only one, with the tentacle beach monster and drugged Moxxie bits, so we can expect a lot of story and character development from the two of them.

Farm episode!  Blitzø either drags them onto a farm, or there’s a client who invites them, but sh*t will happen.

Really excited to see what happens in the Lust ring, and for the return of Robo Fizz!  Baby boy only got a few minutes of screen time, but is currently my favorite character.

Repo episode of rescuing the IMP van, probably resulting in overall team building and character development.  I really want to see Loona tear a new one into that *sshole-looking hellhound, though.

Pop star episode!  Really excited to meet this new character, I wonder what her name is and how close I was XD  Either Blitzø and Moxxie break into her recording studio to meet her, or she’s a client, but we’ll see!

Trapped on Earth/Run in with Earth authorities episode?  That interrogation room didn’t exactly look Hellish, and they obvious meet some kind of resistance while on Earth that looked like it was gonna get messy...

Stolas episode!  Please please please be flashback and story, I loved Loo Loo Land but really want some more lore and development on his character and maybe relationship with Blitzø.  Bird obviously needs to work through some things, and I really want to watch him grow, ever since I saw him struggle to tell Octavia why he was cheating.  Him stuttering and ultimately being unable to find a reason why really hit home, and I’m glad it was something they included since in media, it’s always ‘Well, she’s really ugly’ or ‘I don’t love him anymore’.  He still has feelings for his wife, but wanted to f*ck Blitzø too.

Even without the trailer, we do know that we’re getting episodes focusing on CHERUB and a Harvest Moon festival, but still.  There’s so much content Vivzie and Co have been working hard to make, and I can’t wait to see what they have in store for us.  Dark comedy aside, there’s so much story they can make just around these four characters, following their growth and happenings around Hell.  It’s such a cool premise and one that hasn’t been washed and worn so many times, like cop or murder shows, and I can see this going on for quite a bit.

Well, here’s to an exciting 2021!  Thank you for all your hard work, Vivizepop, keep it up!

[achubbydumpling]

Alright, I just finished Destroyer (2018) and a bottle of wine and I have some thoughts about this movie and lots of thots about Chris. Why am I writing this? Why not! I love reading other people's opinions, so here are mine.

Let's get into it!

(if you just want ~800 words of chubby kink brain rot skip to the +++ under the cut)

Thoughts and semi-serious movie review

(I don't know nothing about movies, so this is very subjective, but I'd love to hear your opinions, if you disagree with anything or just have something to add)

First, I went into this film completely blind. I had no idea what this film was about, I only knew that Seb was in it.

It starts off promising. Alcoholic detective who knows more than she lets on, an unidentified body and an old antagonist from our detectives past reappears. Plot is being set up, we get to know Erin, the story advances at a good pace and then 15 minutes in everything grinds to a halt.

The movie is very good at building tension, but has trouble reaching satisfying conclusions. Almost every scene just fizzles out into an anticlimactic or abrupt end. The characters seem static, with no real development apart from a few pieces sprinkles throughout, which makes emotional scenes feel unearned.

The movie drags on through it's 2h runtime. By the end I was honestly wishing for Erin to just die already, which probably wasn’t the intention with this character-driven film. We’re told that she is consumed by anger, but to me she just seemed bored most of the time. Like she was trudging from plot point to plot point.

Most of the characters in this movie felt like less than side characters, even Chris, who’s death is the inciting incident for Erin wanting to get revenge on Silas. Arturo was the only other character that stood out to me, but he only really got to shine in the Russian Roulette scene.

The flashback scene at the end was probably the best part of the movie. Not just because we finally got to see Chris for a bit longer, but because Erin finally has someone to play off of and even though she still seems quite stiff in her acting, this is in my opinion her best performance in the movie. 2/5 stars

"omg Sebastian Stan is so hot in this movie"-review

And now let's talk about Seb's look in this movie, because damn does he look good. Stuff I liked in no particular order:

the beard in the flash backs

the shaved head in the less far back flash backs

smoking. doing drugs! cocaine!!

rings

fake dating?? yes please (giving me ideas)

Seb's fucking silent movie acting, hmm jaw clenching and intense staring (his line delivery wasn't the best in this, but it might've been the phrasing)

"Nice ass." "It's all yours."

the grey sweater

rings

Chris' body language being all loose and open, going with where Erin pulls him, draped all over her back, arm around her waist

hnng Erin pulling down the big sweater and showing of his chest-shoulder-collarbone

+++ (weight gain, belly kink and more feedist nonsense from here on out) +++

that shirt is pretty big on him though, isn't it?

and his jeans are way too loose as well, "Nice ass"?, yeah, it'll be real nice with about fifty more pounds on him, when those jeans look painted on

he could maybe hide his double chin under the beard, but his love handles would be peeking out under the hem of that grey sweater, his belly creasing his waist band where it hangs over it, his lower belly hanging out as soon as he moves his arms and he constantly has to pull his shirt down, otherwise it works its way up until the entire spare tire around his hips is on display

idk if everyone is just short, but Seb looks so tall in this movie, imagine he's so tall that he starts out at 230lbs looking jacked, all brawn, functional strength, low insertion muscles, all stretched out, y'know?

and then he packs on weight, still working, still moving, but putting half the time he used to spend exercises, into eating, he eats what you put in front of him and then some

it's not like it's a burden, eating until he's full and then pushing himself a bit further, but your encouragement and the obvious lust on your face whenever you watch him eat, is an added bonus

when Erin suggests he steal the money with her, he refuses, he's got you and you'd never ask him to risk his life on the off-chance that you might be able to pull this off, so he gets out, back to being an FBI agent, back to you, and finally back to eating what he wants

ohhh he'd thought when you first explained to him how you liked bigger guys that he'd be doing this just for you, settling down, putting on a few pounds, it was probably inevitable anyway, but once you started, once he actually gained weight, he liked it, he really liked it

Chris caught himself sneaking his hand under his sweater to play with the tiny bit of fat that was starting to hang over his waistband

he'd always been confident, but feeling heavier made him feel more powerful, instead of rushing everywhere he took his time, long, unbroken strides, nothing could shake him

he was an excellent fighter, not easily swayed, but they take him out of the field when he gains more weight, he gets out, gets a job as private security instead and keeps gaining

300lbs and he's finally getting a real belly, but you could still see some muscles moving under his ribs when you trailed your fingers over them, he's tall, so all the weight has lots of places to settle

350lbs and his legs are straining aganist his jeans, the fabric between his legs thinning from the constant friction, looking at him you'd guess he was 250lbs, maybe 280lbs

but you didn't care too much about him looking smaller than he was, because when he got on top of you and let you feel all the weight you'd put on him, how heavy he was and you were just struggling to catch your breath with 350lbs of absolute beef cake on top of you, you couldn't really form a single coherent thought

it didn't take long for him to reach 400lbs, and you were all over it, you kept him pinned to the couch by the weight of his stuffed belly every night, riding one of his thick thighs until he'd finally digested just enough, that he could think about anything besides the dull ache in his stomach, you could see his eyes lose some of that hazy fog, his body going from boneless exhaustion to pressing his thigh up into you, matching your rhythm

as much as you loved Chris weighing you down, you had learned the positive sides of being on top of him over the last 50lbs he's gained, he was an impressive man, quietly commanding every room he was in, but you could make him fall apart, come undone beneath you and make him give up all this control

he didn't just do it for you, when you saw his eyes flutter shut and his jaw work to deal with all those overwhelming sensations, you could see him get lost in it, going elsewhere and yet giving himself up even more completely to you

he'd beg for you to touch him, to fuck him, to "please make me come, baby", even though he could easily take all that he wanted from you, he only ever asked for it and how happily you gave it all to him

lotsa text, but he's just too hot in this movie, like you can just imagine undressing him and finding a nice little belly under all those baggy clothes

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

[travllingbunny]

The 100 7x11 Etherea

This is the episode we’ve been waiting for this whole season - and while I don’t think it’s the best episode of the season, it is certainly the most exciting one. It would be that just the fact that Bellamy is finally back on screen (and not just for a couple of minutes, but for an entire episode fully focused on him), and it was great to see him and have an episode fully devoted to him, and remember once again what an amazing actor Bob is and the presence and intensity he brings to the show. But it also turned out to be the first episode of season 7 that is a genuine game changer and that shocked the viewers with a twist that wasn’t entirely predictable. 

Even though the fandom had been speculating on the so-called brainwashed Bellamy or “void Bellamy” or generally Bellamy that is for some reason the (temporary) enemy of Clarke, Octavia and the rest of the protagonists, and hoping for that storyline, with a Mockingjay-like possibilities for romantic angst between him and Clarke (especially after a photo of Bellamy in the white robe leaked early in the year, months before the season even started to air), the way it happened seems to have upset many of the fans )to quote a podcaster, “I was hoping for a brainwashed Bellamy, but not like this”). Probably because the show has Bellamy retain agency in his transformation and that it is indoctrination into a cult be more like real life and partially rooted in Bellamy’s own emotional issues, beliefs and needs, rather than taking the easier route of having him be Sci-Fi brainwashed, Winter Soldier style.

That said, I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about this episode and how good I think it is. The first half of the episode, Bellamy was very much himself, and it was focused on survival and trying to get off the planet,  and the dynamic between him and Conductor Doucette - throughout the episode - seems to play into the familiar trope of two enemies, or people of opposing views, who have to spend time together, gets to argue, survive together, and eventually bond as fellow humans. This story would not be particularly interesting - not only have we seen it many times, but it feels redundant for Bellamy, who has learned to see the POV of his enemies, bond with them and see the common humanity in them, many seasons ago. It also would not have been interesting if Bellamy managed to change Doucette’s beliefs - which the audience already thinks are rubbish - as this wouldn’t tell us anything new about Bellamy and would only give development to Doucette. 

But instead, what was really happening throughout this episode, under the guise of bonding with the enemy, was Bellamy’s spiritual journey - aka his indoctrination into Cadogan’s cult. The crucial part of it happens not just to his exhaustion and desperation in tough circumstances, or his companion offering him faith as a solution, but through something Bellamy actually sees in the cave, and his own visions a little later.  This is where the episode becomes a lot more interesting - and also a lot more frustrating.  I don’t think I’ll be sure how I feel about this until I see the rest of the season, and learn how some things from this episode are explained or followed up on. In particular, the explanation (or lack of it?) for Bellamy’s visions in this episode will pretty much determine what course the show is taking in its final season and what it is trying to be.

Whatever the explanation, the end result - which we see after Bellamy returns to Bardo - is disturbing and painful to watch. It is something we have never seen before - Bellamy himself trying to enforce a total abnegation of everything Bellamy Blake is. Which includes willingly repressing his feelings for his loved ones to the point of betraying them (and results in the most painful Bellarke reunion ever, and one of the most painful reunions of the Blake siblings). I don’t know if I’m fully buying such a huge transformation - which is one of my problems with the episode. But this is certainly quality angst, and means that the season has become much more exciting to watch.

Is it weird that such a big twist happens in episode 11, out of 16 episodes, after 10 episodes that have been mostly setup for the big plot? Yes, just like it is weird that Bellamy has been MIA before this. BTS reasons obviously affected this season a lot - if it hadn’t been for them, I think we’d have a similar storyline, but this would have happened much earlier in the season. Are 5 episodes enough to resolve this in a satisfactory way? Well, it’s certainly enough to resolve it - this is a show that has characters go from hate to love over the course of 5 episodes, has characters hook up/fall for each other after knowing each other for 2-3 episodes, the show that showed Hope’s entire 10-year relationship with her father figure in a 7 minute scene, and the show that just had this massive character transformation happen over one episode. Will it feel satisfactory and convincing - it could, if it’s well-written and if the show doesn’t waste too much time on the Sanctum plot and fully focuses on its two main characters now that one of them is finally back.

Starting from the beginning - this time, its Bob saying “Previously on”, in line with this season having different cast members saying those opening words in different episodes (Eliza in 7x01, Marie in 7x02, Luisa in 7x03, there was no previously on in 7x04, Marie in 7x05, Lindsey in 7x06, Richard in 7x07, no previously on in 7x08, Eliza in 7x09 and 7x10 - it’s a bit surprising that Eliza said it in episode 9 even though she wasn’t in it at all, but otherwise those fit characters that were strongly featured in the episode in question).

We also get yet another version of the opening titles - which start and finish with a shot of the Anomaly. Earth again makes a cameo near the end, just as it did in 7x10, though it’s in the shadow now so can’t be seen as clearly. 

While 90% of the episode takes place on Etherea, it opens and ends on Bardo. The opening scene is the only one not featuring Bellamy - apart from a replayed memory. We learn that the MCap machine was damaged by Echo, and is only now operational again. Finally, a good explanation why the Disciples did not put Echo, Diyoza or Octavia - again - in MCap after they agreed to cooperate. Levitt is using it on one of the Disciples who were in the Stone Room during the explosion. I guess he was still recovering a week after, and now they are presumably trying to help him, since - as the other Conductor tells Levitt - he is suffering from PTSD. Hey, isn’t that the first time anyone has mentioned that word on the show? At least the Disciples have kept the knowledge about mental health issues, even if their ways of dealing with it are questionable at best. We learn that no one is being punished, not even for killing Anders, as the other conductor says. (Not even? Does she think that’s worse than attempted genocide? Hope didn’t even back down from it as Echo eventually did, and the two Disciples Anders called witnessed it. The Conductor may think that the consequence is more important than intent... But even so, she clearly thinks Anders’ life was more important than those of two other Disciples, who were murdered by Echo as a part of her torturing Levitt. I guess that “For all mankind” thing doesn’t mean you consider all of the people, or even all of the Disciples, equal...)

Levitt finds out what 99% of the audience was sure of anyway and goes “He’s alive!” Surprise, surprise. But Levitt, shouldn’t you say “They are alive?”? Knowing Levitt’s attachment to Octavia, he is talking about Bellamy, not about one of his colleagues, Conductor Doucette, who was also presumed dead. (Doucette, not Douchette - even though the latter would make for a good joke.)

Let’s think about why this scene exists (apart from being used as a sneak peek). Obviously it was full of exposition, but why was it important for Levitt to find out that Bellamy is alive at the same time as we learn about it? We could have just seen Bellamy falling through the Bridge to the planet of Etherea. I suppose the purpose is dual: 1) to learn that the Disciples indeed did not know Bellamy was alive and on Etherea, 2) to learn that Cadogan knew Bellamy was alive an on Etherea, at least a few hours to a day before his return, which may be important for the events of this episode.

One of the questions the fandom has been debating is, did Anders intentionally send Bellamy to Etherea to be indoctrinated? Since 7x05, I have believed that Bellamy was on Etherea, and my initial reading of the scene was that Anders made the decision to send him there - and that this was why Doucette started to beg him: “Please, sir, no”, as he wasn’t happy to be stranded there. Then I started second-guessing it, because it became increasingly obvious that Anders was dumb as a brick and unable to come up with any smart plans how to brainwash people (as we saw with HEDO - he just threatened them into compliance instead of trying to really change their minds). Now I think that sending people to Etherea may be a standard practice that Disciples do on very special occasions when they want to send someone on a spiritual journey/pilgrimage/true brainwashing that they can’t come back until they make a ‘leap of faith” (just like they use Skyring as a standard prison). Maybe this is not even something that most Disciples know, but info only reserved for Level 12s or even Level 13s. But the grenade attack was real and made Anders believe Bellamy was dead and the plan was off - as there is no reason to believe that anything before Bellamy’s last day in the cave was manipulated from Bardo.

However, that last day - with Bellamy’s visions - could have been, and it happened around the same time Cadogan would have found out from Levitt that Bellamy was alive and on Etherea. There seems to be no time differential (or too small a differential to matter) between Etherea and Bardo - just like there seems to be none between Earth and Sanctum, since Bellamy and Doucette retained their memories going from Bardo to Etherea and back, both times without a protective helmet.

Etherea, the planet

The promo for this episode made the planet look much worse and less survivable than it really seems to be. Apart from the grey filter* that the show is using to make it look worse and kind of drab and gloomy, it seems to be a perfectly nice planet, with vegetation and an OK climate - as long as you are not trying to get off the planet through the Anomaly and climbing the extremely high mountain to reach the Anomaly Stone. It’s funny that, aside from Nakara, every other planet connected by the Anomaly has better living conditions than Bardo. The Disciples obviously use Bardo just because of the facilities they’ve found there. But Skyring is a really lovely planet - its only problem is the time differential from the other habitable planets, but that would not be a problem if a big group of people just decided to live there and start a community. Sanctum is lovely, too - well, except for red sun toxin and killer insects and meat-eating trees. (Why have the Disciples mostly ignored it? Is it because of those things, or maybe they didn’t want to mix with the Primes and other Sanctumites? Or they just didn’t see a use for it?) And Etherea is another problem where people could decide to live, if they gave up going to other planets.

*The show uses different filters to make the woods around Vancouver look like different planets:  

Sanctum - bright colors, lots of red during day, purple at night 

Skyring - blue filter (nice planet) 

Nakara - blue filter (frozen planet) 

Etherea - grey filter 

Earth - normal, except in S5 everywhere outside Eden - greyish yellow filter for a desolated post-Praimfaya Earth

But of course, Bellamy is definitely not interested in staying there and only wants to find a way off this planet, and Doucette, unlike Orlando, is neither serving a sentence he wants to see to the end nor is expecting the Disciples to send a team to retrieve him. This is another one of the “just two three four people on the planet” episodes, but this stay is just a few months rather than years, and spent in much harsher and most exhausting conditions during most of that time - because Bellamy never stops trying to get off the planet. There are parallels and strong contrasts to every one of those other situations:

Eden -  The first few months of Clarke’s experience surviving on the desolated Earth parallel Bellamy’s months on the mountain - surviving in tough conditions (extreme heat in Clarke’s case vs extreme cold in Bellamy’s), physically and mentally exhausted to the point of breaking. There are even visually parallel shots of both of them walking with a stick or eating bugs. But the big differences are: after trying and failing to get in the bunker and after the Temple collapsed, Clarke had no way of getting off the planet or out of her current situation and reuniting with any of her loved ones. She could only survive and wait. She was all alone and only talking to Bellamy, who wasn’t there, to keep herself sane. Bellamy, OTOH, was actively trying to get off the planet and reach his loved ones all that time, and he had a companion - another adult with strong beliefs, who he talked to and who did his best to indoctrinate him. After those first few months, Clarke found Eden and met Madi, and the rest of her (mostly off-screen) life on Earth during the next 6 years was much more similar to Octavia’s life with Diyoza and Hope on Skyring. 

The Garden - Unlike Bellamy, Octavia lived in a beautiful place and with someone who was already her friend and a child she came to look after, finding family she loved (rather than faith and abstract “love for all mankind”). Like Bellamy, Octavia kept trying to get off the planet and reach her sibling and her friends, which was equally difficult for a different reason, as the Anomaly entrance was deep under water (unlike Bellamy, she wouldn’t have actually able to leave the planet as she didn’t have a Conductor or codes for the Stone - but she didn’t know she needed them) - for 6 years, before she eventually gave up and settled for her peaceful life for the next 4 years and sending Bellamy a letter.

Hesperides - Like Bellamy, Echo, Gabriel and Hope wanted to get off the planet and reach their friends/family, but unlike Bellamy, they couldn’t get the codes and had to wait for 5 years, and, unlike him, they lived in lovely place. Like Bellamy, they had a devout Disciple as a companion,  but there were three of them, which made it more difficult for him to indoctrinate them, no matter how much he wanted to make them Disciples, and they were the ones trying to manipulate him. They developed a friendship with him, as Bellamy did with Doucette, but while Bellamy saved Doucette when he didn’t have to anymore, Echo betrayed him and left him as expendable, and the other two eventually went along with it.

But Etherea is not just another planet for the Disciples - it is notable for what can be found in a cave on the way to the top of the mountain, which Cadogan apparently looked for and found, as a part of his pilgrimage - his own “40 days in a desert” - because, of course, he sees himself as a messiah (and, as we saw in 7x09, this is an important thing in the Bardo religion and something children are taught about in school). 

Bellamy immediately learns all about Cadogan’s teachings - everything the rest of the characters took several episodes to learn about - by reading his book (”pocket propaganda from another false god”) and immediately pokes holes in it. He makes all the good points and lists most of the reasons why the Disciple faith makes no sense, including the fact that it makes no sense to be fighting for peace and end of violence by waging another war. Everything he says in the first half of the episode are things I would completely agree with. Which makes it all the more frustrating when he starts ignoring his own reasonable arguments by the end of this episode. One might say that the Disciple propaganda attacks both his heart - using his desire to find peace, an end to all the struggle and pain, and eventually, his love and memory of his mother, to ignore what his head is telling him - but they also eventually attack his head, by presenting what seems like actual physical evidence, and the end result is to ignore not just the rational objections he had, but also try to suppress his love for the most important individual people in his life.

He lists the people he loves - “Octavia, Echo, Clarke” - which is the first time Bellamy himself has used the word love for the latter two (and in fact, for anyone other than Octavia). BTW, notice that no one in the show has ever used the word “girlfriend/boyfriend” except Diyoza (when this was what she assumed Clarke was to Bellamy)? Maybe these words have fallen out of use in the post-apocalypse societies. The main characters usually talk about their “friends” or “family” (the latter not always being biological). Doucette later talks of "your family, your friends” and “your obsession with your sister and your friends” - where Echo and Clarke are both lumped into this category. Echo is not singled out as “your girlfriend” or in any other way.

Here’s the thing about Bellamy’s and Doucette’s dynamic: if this story wasn’t really about indoctrinating Bellamy, there really wouldn’t be anything there we didn’t know about Bellamy before. Of course he wouldn’t kill this random Disciple guy if he didn’t have to - and, in spite of what he tells Doucette at the start, it’s not just because he needed him to survive. Bellamy learning to see the humanity of his enemies and working with them and bonding with them is something we have seen many times: at first with Clarke, then with Lincoln, Indra, the Grounders, Kane, Echo. All the way back in season 2, he valued human lives, even from the enemy side: he opposed Murphy’s idea of killing the captive Grounder thief (while Finn summarily killed him), he angrily said he’d kill everyone in Mount Weather but then tried his best for that not to happen, after seeing the children there; even during his Pike-supporting days, he tried to persuade Pike and the others to spare the wounded Grounder warriors, in season 4 he talked Riley down from trying to assassinate Roan, and in season 5, he refused to kill the cryo frozen Eligius prisoners, and later convinced Madi to spare the Eligius convicts who were their PoW. And while Bellamy has been motivated, most of all, by personal love (particularly for his sister and Clarke), we’ve seen him save many people, including strangers or near strangers. That speech Doucette gave him about “loving all mankind” is something season 1 Bellamy needed to hear, the one who was focused just on Octavia and then just on her and the Delinquents, but Bellamy has had a massive character development since. Bellamy knows more about loving all mankind than Doucette or any of the Disciples do. Doucette says he “loves all mankind” including a total stranger - well, dude, didn’t you try to kill Bellamy at first? And the rest of what we’ve seen from Disciples is much worse. They talked the talk, but don’t walk the walk, unless they think kidnapping and torturing people and trying to break their spirit is “love”, And Anders definitely showed that he did not “love all the mankind” when he ordered a hit on Hope, or when he gave that speech in 7x10 about what disgusting “wild beats” all these non-Disciples were.

But unlike Anders, Doucette can talk in a convincing way and make decent arguments in favor of his faith to non-believers, rather than just preaching to the converted - or at least, he can appear to give decent arguments. He’s taking a page from The 100 fandom with the argument that Bellamy is so selfish and egotistical for... loving his sister and his friends and constantly fighting and sacrificing himself for them. (The 100 fandom loves making that same argument about Clarke.) Quite a skill, to make such BS argument sound convincing. He basically gives Bellamy a version of the “Love is weakness” advice - in this case, that “love is selfish” and leads to destruction and pain. And when Bellamy asks the rhetorical question, if that means that you shouldn’t love anyone -  Doucette turns it around and talks of love for all mankind. But that “love” he speaks of is abstract and fake - it is impossible to love everyone. You cannot love total strangers, or people you simply don’t like - certainly not the same as you love your lover or friend or family member. You can, however, be compassionate, and value human lives,.Which is, in fact, something the Disciples don’t do, as we’ve seen on Bardo (but Bellamy has not seen it yet) - they just value lives as more soldiers for the cause. Their “humanity” is abstract - they are ready to sacrifice individuals for it (everyone except the Shepherd). Bellamy, on the other hand, has always been about valuing individual lives and saving them - be it Mel on season 2, or the slaves in season  - and he managed to do it while also loving his sister and his friends. The Disciples and Doucette’s arguments present a false dichotomy. But, unfortunately, Bellamy still has deep guilt and self-loathing that he never fully resolved (even in season 6, he still talked about his many sins in 6x04), and he’s tired by always having to fight another war for survival, just to followed by another. (Which is similar to Clarke’s misgivings in 7x03: “I’m afraid that fighting is not what we do, it’s what we are” and Raven’s and Clarke’s conversation about guilt over having killed so many people.) The only time he didn’t have to always worry and/or fight were the years on the Ring, but he was still grieving Clarke and missing Octavia and motivated by going back down to reunite with her  He knows what he’s capable of doing out of love - and he also has unresolved issues with the women he loves. In season 4, he lamented how pathetic he was coming back to his sister when she kept treating him badly, and in the 7x07 Ring flashback, he thought his love for his sister was his “weakness”. He’s certainly been hurt by her, finally rejected her and then later got to reunite with her, get an apology and forgive and make up with her. He and Clarke have also certainly hurt each other and forgiven each other, and that relationship is still unresolved. Bellamy himself admitted to Jo!Clarke in 6x09 that he was exhausted by their ups and downs and lack of resolution. And Echo... well, he should know exactly where he stands with her, but he didn’t seem happy about their relationship and seemed to want her to be Clarke someone else.

I can see why Bellamy started to envy Doucette his emotional calm that his faith and worldview seemed to bring him.

We got another Pike mention in this ep (and again, it was a reference to his positive role - as a teacher of Earth skills). The last time Bellamy made it was in 6x07 when he found out Clarke was alive. Pike was also a father figure to Bellamy - just like Kane, and now Cadogan. Bellamy has been called both a King and a Knight. Some of his biggest mistakes were when he chose to trust in a leader/father figure (the last time, it was Pike - who was, however, very different from Cadogan and his views on the opposite side the spectrum from Bill’s), and ALIE!Raven thought that one of the ways she could try to taunt him and erode his confidence was to call him a follower rather than a leader. Only she tried to convince him that he was in subjugated position to Clarke - which IMO was never true. They have always had an equal relationship (except when external circumstances made it otherwise - see, Kane and the adults taking the power away from Bellamy, while Clarke was able to take it back from Abby mostly because she was backed up by the Grounder Commander), and Clarke was the one who always tried to boost Bellamy’s confidence in his abilities as a leader. He was definitely a leader of his people in season 5 and season 6, and he works best as co-leader with Clarke (and vice versa). But even when Bellamy supported Clarke, he was questioning his decisions, even though he was rarely able to change Pike’s mind - he wasn’t blindly obeying and accepting everything, as he would have to with the Disciples.

Another factor in Bellamy’s transformation is of course the fact that he spent months in the cave - to the point of physical and mental exhaustion. Every time he and Doucette would climb the mountain, the peak where the Stone was would turn out to be even higher. Bellamy himself used two of the Greek myths to describe the task - Sisyphus and Icarus. A pointless task that results in having to do everything all over again (just like what he said about having to always fight another war), and a dangerous task likely to destroy you.

Bellamy was still insisting on reason over faith - “I believe in what I can prove” - but then he got to see the beings of light, as “proof”..

And here we come to the more interesting part of this ep and something that the show may or may not explain. I’m pretty skeptical about Cadogan’s views of what these beings are. How do we know that they have really “transcended” and become eternal or whatever, living on some kind of higher plane? No one has communicated with them, or have they? They are aliens, from our POV. Maybe that’s their natural state?  Maybe they’re dead and this is just what remains of them? Maybe they died in a similar catastrophe as the Bardoans but one that was more about fire than ice, as Selina hypothesized in her review)? Maybe they are in agony?  Sure, they look beautiful to human eyes, and fit the human culture’s idea of what spirituality and transcendence is like - but you can’t know that for sure. The frozen crystal giants on Bardo also look beautiful, after all, and that entire species died horribly

And then the second “otherworldly” thing happens after Bellamy finally agreed to prey - and he has a vision, involving Cadogan as his spiritual guide, leading him from a place full of weapons - swords and guns - to the place where he sees his dead mother, Aurora. It’s a beautiful and emotional scene, and I can’t imagine all the things Bellamy is feeling as she touches his face - including, probably, more unresolved guilt - over getting his mother executed (because he loved his sister and tried to make her happy). Aurora tells him Go to the light, Bellamy” and he looks at the figures of light -  but we don’t learn what, if anything, he saw there .

I hope we learn that Bellamy saw something important - maybe something connected to the Judgment Day Becca talked about - that would explain the extent of his conversion, although it seems that it is mostly supposed to be a consequence of the fact that the storm stopped at the moment when he chose to prey. 

The final step in his ‘spiritual journey’ is after that, when he barely managed to reach the top. After repeating the mantra “I am not afraid” (something else from the Blakes’ childhood - the same line Octavia was repeating on Bardo to resist the Conductors), he admits to himself “I am afraid”. In retrospect, a sign that he was broken, and started feeling that his past and his family were not enough to give him strength and faith. The jump from the top was described as a “leap of faith” by Doucette - which is kind of ridiculous, since it had nothing to do with faith, just with the fact that Cadogan was there and knew how the Anomaly worked, and the fact he was able to climb the mountain and leave is proof that the Anomaly worked properly. 

(I wonder why the heck the Anomaly works so differently on different planets - in some cases you can enter the Anomaly right next to the Stone when you’re leaving the planet, and in others, you have to go back to the original entrance that’s somewhere else.)

Now, the visions may be explained in several different ways:

hallucinations - earlier, Bellamy found a family photo and recognized Cadogan, and he would know how Conductors and high ranking Disciples dress, he’s seen the white robe on Anders and Doucette

everything in the cave is real, and Cadogan has some sort of a telepathic connection to the cave (the true believer’s interpretation)

the brain implant/hive mind theory (by Selina again - I don’t believe in this one as there has been no evidence of it so far)

projections/hologram - see Jean’s theory that Cadogan used the hologram technology to project images of himself and Aurora (whose image is familiar to the Disciples from Octavia’s memories)

a combination of some of the above - the beings of light may be real, and Cadogan may have stumbled onto something but has again misinterpreted what it was all about; Bellamy’s vision of Cadogan was a hallucination or projection, but he also did see something real when his mother (again, possible hallucination or unexplained spiritual phenomenon) told him to look into the light.

It’s possible that the show will never fully explain what really happened here, just as Murphy’s vision of hell has never been explained.

The reunion

Up until this point, the episode doesn’t seem to show a seriously disturbing turn in Bellamy: we saw that he was starting to take the Disciples’ faith seriously and even to believe in it, and the first thing he does when turning up in the Stone Room on Bardo is look happy and relieved he made it, and hug an equally happy Doucette. So, he made a friend among the Disciples and will be the one telling Clarke and the rest: “We should take this seriously, they have a point, here is what I saw on Etherea...” - right? That would make perfect sense while not fundamentally changing who Bellamy is.

But no! Bellamy falls to his knees and calls Cadogan “My Shepherd” - which was one of the most painful scenes for me to see in all of the show, even more so than the later scene where he snitches on Clarke. There’s been a lot this season about “kings” forcing subjects to kneel - but instead of the “kneel or die” approach that Anders more or less used (while Sheidheda is using it in the most literal way possible), this is out of genuine belief. I  don’t know if I’m really buying this massive transformation that we see here and in the next scene. It’s just a bit too much. Maybe information about what it was that Belalmy saw when he went ‘into the light’ would help explain it better.

Cadogan is happy to use Bellamy to convince Clarke to cooperate, and informs him: “Your friends are here, they have gotten themselves in some trouble”. Maybe this adds up to the reason why Bellamy is uncomfortable when he sees them a bit later, because they’ve been bad - but only some of them were (Echo with her murders, torture and genocide attempt, the others - not really, except Hope, someone he doesn’t even know yet). But when he comes to see them, he looks broken, exhausted and numb after all his experiences. And probably wary of giving in to the “selfish love”. (His friendship with Doucette is presumably in line with his new faith, but he seems to think his friendship with Clarke is not? Is that his relationship with Clarke actually involves love, real love for an individual?) After finally reuniting with the people he had been trying to reach all that time on Etherea, he doesn’t even look happy to see them. To quote Bellamy from earlier in the episode,Sometimes, Bellamy Blake, irony is funny. This is not one of these times.

Meanwhile, his friends are in Cadogan’s living quarters in house arrest. Conveniently, it’s just Clarke, Echo and Octavia there - plus Gabriel, but the focus is on Bellamy’s reunions with the three women he named as the people he loved earlier in the episode. Raven is not there, neither are Miller, Jordan, Niylah or Hope. (The last time Bellamy saw Jordan, Jordan was the brainwashed one. Hey, what happened to that storyline? Did it end up as a casualty of the rewrites?)

They’re discussing what to do, and Clarke has decided to basically sacrifice her life so the others could escape. We know that Clarke is a very selfless person, but  the way she’s been increasingly casually deciding to sacrifice herself feels a bit disturbing - as if she’s stopped caring about her own life or hoping for happiness. At this point, her big character development would be to choose happiness and try to have what she wants. Even her “selfish” actions up to this point were mostly about trying to protect others. We haven’t even seen her show much emotion this season - as if she was on autopilot - except for her early grieving Abby earlier in the season, and moments when she’s silently grieving Bellamy, 

Cadogan is there to offer the carrot rather than the stick, and being a drama queen, doesn’t Clarke and the others that Bellamy is there, but lets him in. They are massively surprised but don’t notice something’s off, or rather, they seem to assume he is just physically exhausted and in pain rather than mentally/emotionally off, as he silently looks at Clarke and Octavia and then Echo. Camera shows close-ups of the reactions of the people who love him: Clarke’s, Echo’s and Octavia’s reactions before going back to Clarke. (Probably because she’s the main character, in case people have forgotten, and her relationship with Bellamy is at center of the show), Octavia is happy and proud tries to hug her brother, but the Disciples pull out weapons. Clarke ignores the weapons, counting on her status/leverage, and hugs him. 

She looks lovingly at him, with something we haven’t seen from her in a long time - happiness, that’s definitely not “best friend that I’m not attracted to” but “best friend I have naughty thoughts about”. (Only love can make you hug someone who must be smelling really badly at this point, considering Bellamy hasn’t washed or changed his clothes in over 3 months!)

This hug is different from any other Bellarke hug ever, since Bellamy is so numb, even when he hugs her back, but she is too happy to see him back to notice.  And then when she takes the chance to also get him up to speed and tell him about the Flame - he gets an incredibly sad look on his face. He is not unemotional now - but he has decided he must ignore and suppress those feelings, betray her trust and tell Cadogan the truth, because his faith and the so-called “love for all mankind” comes first.

Everyone is shocked when he calls Cadogan “My Shepherd” and then beyond shocked when he betrays them - and camera again shows Echo’s, Octavia’s and Clarke’s reactions, going back to Cadogan, and then the episode ends on a close-up of Clarke’s shocked face. Because, you know, she’s still the main character. And finally, now we can hopefully have a S7 storyline that properly focuses on the show’s protagonist and utilizes Eliza’s talent allowing her to show a range of emotions. When Clarke believed Bellamy was dead, he was someone she could hold in her memory and try to honor it by saving his sister and girlfriend - but this is a whole new way of losing him, right after thinking she got him back, and means real emotional turmoil.

Bellamy has become a true believer and decided to stop being himself. And the people who love him will now have to deal with his loss - in another way - all over again, and try to save him. I’m torn because this storyline offers huge opportunities for a “power of love” storyline right out of a fanfic, but I’m uncomfortable with the idea that it may come at the expense of having Bellamy be manipulated and subjugated to a white megalomaniac villain in the last season. But I hope and expect we will see genuine character development and re-affirmation of who Bellamy Blake is. Now, there are a lot of things Bellamy doesn’t know yet and that have contributed to him drinking Cadogan’s Kool-Aid (he hasn’t seen Cadogan’s dealings with his family or Second Dawn, or what he did to Becca, or Anders’ actions on Bardo, or the way the Disciples mistreat their own people, and he doesn’t know about Cadogan’s mistranslation of the Bardoan text), but I don’t think the resolution of this storyline will be about Cadogan or what Bellamy knows about his religion. I think it will be Bellamy himself and his relationships. Clarke and Octavia had big character arcs in season 5-6 where they had to deal with who they are, who they’ve become and what they want to be negating everything he is. He needs to finally really deal with his self-loathing and guilt and he needs to gain back trust in himself, the Bellamy Blake that others loved and trusted and relied on. He needs to feel loved and decide that love is strength and a positive rather than just ‘selfish’ force. (And who can show him that? Hint: not his girlfriend Echo, whose love he would definitely see as confirmation that love is selfish and destructive, as it makes a person do things like murder, torture and attempted genocide out of revenge. Another hint: probably the same person who gave him confidence and made him believe in himself and grow as a person, multiple times, all the way back in season 1 and again in season 3 and season 4, telling him he was a person that other follow because of his big heart and the way he can inspire people. And third hint - the same person Bellamy was saving - her physical self - in season 6, will be the one who’ll have to save him, mentally, save who he is., in season 7.)

Rating: 8/10 (could go higher or lower depending on how the cave visions are explained and what the outcome of this plot is)

[paralume-game]

Can you give a brief description of each of the ROs? I know their names and what they look like, but who are they as people?

Hello. I sneaked past the gates of Hell (School) for a minute to hand out some more vague character descriptions, to keep you yearning. :)

_

Azalea

She's harsh and eloquent. Brisk in getting hold of a conversation, and turning it upside down at her desire.

You can see sheer knowledge swimming behind those inky dilated pupils, covering up her charming brown eyes, flecked with spots of gold.

Her long nails brush through her hair.

Slow and seductive.

Voluminous maroon locks bounce from the touch of her sharp black nails.

She flicks you a sultry smile, speaking in a suggestive tone,

"I'm a hunter, birdie."

She grabs a fistful of your attire, pulling you closer.

"Strong," she whispers.

Her red lips close in on yours, hot breath awakening dormant goosebumps all over your body. In this close proximity, you can watch her long lashes flutter against her dark bronze skin.

"Cunning," she continues.

She takes her time to regard all the details of your face, eyes flitting over every part, finally ending up on your lips.

She pulls back then, pushing you away harshly, so that you lose your balance. She's tittering.

Not attempting in the slightest to prevent your fall. Merely watching you descend, hitting the ground uncomfortably.

You stare up at her towering form, hovering above you, a feral smile adorning her full lips.

She makes you feel powerless.

Just by watching. By smiling. By touching.

She shakes her mane like a lion, satisfied with the hunt. Proud of the kill.

She doesn't have to plunge her nails into your skin to assert her reign.

"And dangerously alluring," she finishes, leaving you behind in the dirt.

You only hear the sound of her ruby red dress, fluttering in the breeze, before her shadow disappears entirely.

_

Azazel

His big hands stroke softly over fabric.

He wields the scissors in them with scrupulous skill.

His gaze is concentrated, but there's a mild hint of wonder swirling in his beautiful eyes.

The left one a mossy green, like the untamed ivy crawling up the walls of his home. Whereas a stripe of blue cuts through the right one, like a cool stream of water in a lush forest.

Excitement crawls between his ebony digits, daringly offering him to try something new, something outrageous.

Something that he will never show the world, but store deep in his own closet, concealed underneath a pile of earthy coloured garments.

Too striking for him to wear, too attention seeking.

He can't draw eyes toward him, there's nothing special to be seen there.

It would only be a mismatch of colours on him, just like his irises.

Fear shackles his hands with a tight grip, making him drop the scissors.

Doubt claws at his mind.

Why does he bother if the things he creates won't be appreciated? What does the process mean, if it's stagnant and dreary?

He picks the shears up once more, accidentally cutting his finger on the sharp metal blades.

A blotch of red glares up from the unfinished garb. Prominent. Striking.

He sets to finish the task. For his own sake only.

_

Nathan/Hanna

Sweet charity carries their voice, soft intimacy lies in their touch, and safety can be found in their embrace.

So soothing, that they could strangle you in their arms, without any alarming struggle or complain from you.

You'd simply melt further into their warmth.

Dark chocolate eyes will search for yours, tearing up with affection when they find you gazing back at them.

Brunette hair tickles your shoulders, as they lay their cheek upon it.

They're free of greed, always there to lend a hand, an ear, a word.

Never expecting anything in return.

A person so extremely caring, that they'd rather watch out for someone else, instead of taking care of their own soul.

It's quite difficult to not want to give anything back to them.

But your happiness is more than enough, they tell you. Your steadily beating heart is a song that soothes their own.

There lies grief deep within those words, plucking at your heartstrings.

They lie a hand on top of it, feeling its rhythm. Nursing its heat.

"I'm glad you're here with me," they whisper, with a smile dripping off their lips.

Brighter than day.

Though darker than usual.

The rest of the sentence remains as a barely audible movement of lips, quieter than a pin drop:

"Even though I don't deserve you."

_

Blaire

Nonchalant and uncaring, it seems.

Though there lies passion, as well as untold stories within their songs, and the images etched underneath their skin.

A garden of Milkweed and birds of paradise wind up their arms. Quotes, lettering, critters, and silly doodles peek through their leaves.

Swallows fly a detour over their neck, wings outstretched.

Their creativity shapes whole cities, entire worlds, even.

Radiant places, filled with vivid buildings, reaching for the skies. And bustling streets, each blot of colour in them representing a person. Souls containing tall tales.

They shake their damp black hair out of their eyes, grazing the canvas with the tip of their brush in the process.

A sigh chimes.

Out of annoyance from observing the invading orange line on the side of a skyscraper, now a glowing pile of rubble, extending toward the heavens.

It strikes an idea in them, their strokes picking up speed.

Do those wrecks reach for the stars?

Scrape at them, to get a taste of space dust? The Flavour of impossibility melting on their tongues.

They take a step back from the canvas, taking in a drawing, which depicts... hope, mostly. If they had to pick a word.

A reoccurring theme to be found in their creations.

And yet, whenever their dark eyes, black like ink, fall on their pieces of work after the finishing touch, there's but a pinch of yearning to be found in them.

Yearning for the world outside this town they're in, desire to lose these invisible shackles around their feet, binding them to this forsaken place.

Their hands grab the sides of the easel, throwing it to the side.

Wet paint clings to wooden flooring, as the image and restless footsteps hit the ground.

Acrylic dries on overpriced vintage clothes.

Ash hits a tray. Nicotine fills lungs.

And eyelids close reluctantly.

_

Willow

They look cold and brittle. Thin and tired. The bags underneath their eyes grow evermore, every day.

Development that is caused by the indifference toward concealing them.

"What for?" They'd reply, if you would ask, voice light.

Then they'd try to brush stark white hair out of their icy eyes.

Suddenly revealing their blue brilliance, surrounded by signs of fatigue, as they pluck the strands behind their pointy ears.

Knowing them, you're sure it's their way of telling you that it's alright to be tired.

It's okay to be exhausted.

They are too, after all.

They'd flick you a smile, if you'd mull over the answer. Sharp canines, usually hidden behind light pink lips, peeping through.

They're always trying to keep up a distant exterior, mysterious as the forest encircling the both of you.

Though you know well that they are as caring as can be.

Worrying deep into the night about the wellbeing of people that they love.

You can observe their deep-rooted care and patience especially well in how they tend to their father's garden.

Always patiently searching for and plucking away weeds, or assiduously watering the earth with a perfectly estimated amount of water.

With a white cloak sporting dark brown stains. Certainly one of the few times on which it isn't in an impeccable shape.

They're concerned about each being trying to prosper in such an unforgiving world. They also hold a special concern for your steady level of idiocy. Although they have learnt to become fond of it, flat out cherish it. In secret, of course.

Even so, they can not will themself to reach the same level of foolishness- dare they say 'careless freedom', as you.

For underneath the wise, hardworking, pale façade lies the mere face of a scared child.

[the-chanteloup]

InuYasha RP Bio

Omg. I’m alive! Things have been so hectic, I forgot I had a Tumblr! Silly me. Well, I’ve returned, and with that return, I give you my finalized InuYasha RP bio! 

So, I created this character about 18 years ago when InuYasha first aired on Adult Swim. I debuted her on Yahoo!Chat, and when that died, she sort of went into hibernation. With the series coming out, and this sudden surge of InuYasha, I really wanted to finalize her, and get her out into the world. :3  

Name (last, first): Setsuna ( Of the Karyukai, The Flower and Willow World )

Nickname(s): Hanyou, Runt, Pup, Geisha

Age: 55 (Youthful appearance, commonly mistaken for 20-25)

Species: Half-Dog Demon, Half-Human (Hanyou)

Gender: Female

Birthday: Around the Winter Solstice

Life Story:

Left on the doorstep of an orphanage in the village of Sawara, in a shabby reed basket during a harsh winter was not the ideal beginning, but, all great legends must start somewhere. Luckily, warm hearts were in good spirits this cold night, and the overseers of this particular orphanage just couldn’t leave a bright eyed, bundle of joy out in the elements. Brought in out of the cold, and raised alongside human children, the pup never really knew she was different, other than having two black fluffy ears atop her head. As she grew, she was given a general education along with the other children, nothing fancy since they were considered the lower class, but enough to get her by should she ever take to selling turnips.

Unfortunately, all fairy tales have to end, and when her 16th year rolled around, she was tossed out into the world to fend for herself.

Being a small Hanyou had its benefits job wise, roaming gangs of thieves were always willing to have her tag along for heists, at a quarter of the profit for most of the dangerous work. But fate is a fickle mistress, and while perusing through a shop during a heist one night, she was detained by an older man named Ino Tadataka, with nun chucks. How embarrassing. She didn’t need superb Demon hearing to know her comrades had bailed, leaving her the scapegoat. However, before she could decide which hand she was okay with having chopped off, the old man offered her a deal. She would assist him in mapping some of the harder to reach places in the area, and in return he would house her, feed her and teach her to read.

Since climbing trees for an old man was a much better option than losing a limb, she hastily agreed, and spent many years assisting “Old Man Ino”, as she called him, in completing his map of Japan.

In the Spring of her last month with Ino, he referred her to an old friend in a village called Kanazawa in the Western Lands for another job. With no other real work leads, other than going back to stealing, she took the lead. When she arrived at the mapped destination Ino had given her, it turned out to be an exotic tea house. She swore on all the Gods above and below that she would knock the taste out of that old pervert’s mouth for this. As she stood outside making her proclamation to bash an old man’s head in, she was interrupted by the tea house’s 'mother', Kikuya. Seeing a rare opportunity to be the only tea house in the district with a Hanyou entertaining, Kikuya took her in instantly.

Amazingly, after several rough years of learning, she was finally “promoted” to the highest rank, Geisha.

Fast forward a few short years, just a few months from fully paying off her debt, she is one of the more popular girls advertised at the tea house. Fully skilled in playing the kokyū, flirting with men in a proper way, starting and losing games of Janken or Daruma Otoshi gracefully, and pouring hot tea in hazardous ways, courtesy of her quick Hanyou reflexes, she has acquired several frequent guests.

A Samurai named Yorimoto quickly became her favorite “customer”, and though they saw each other as nothing more than siblings, she developed a connection to the Human. He was never short on adventurous stories about fighting, and war, which she soaked up like a sponge, enjoying the romantic way he told of their honor code. Being half-Demon, she was naturally drawn to weapons and all their convenient ways of killing things, and eventually convinced Yorimoto to teach her how to use the Naginata. Unfortunately, it was highly un-Geisha like to swing around a “blade on a stick”, as her mother called it, so, under the guise of certain services, they met and trained. Several months passed, and her Samurai was called away to battle, but before he left, Yorimoto gifted her a Naginata all her own, for emergencies, of course.

Even though she was content to stay at her tea house and practice her Naginata in peace until the day when she could afford to open her own business, she also wouldn’t mind a little bit of adventure sneaking in and stirring things up.  

Appearance:

Setsuna stands an intimidating five feet tall at her black ear tips, which has earned her the nickname “Runt”. Thanks to her Demon genetics, despite her small stature, she is sturdily built, muscular and has a curvy frame. She is a milky skinned Hanyou with loosely curled raven black hair that trails down to her rear, and cobalt blue, cat like eyes rimmed in coal eyeliner. Her ears are slightly fluffy, and sport two small silver hoops in each, a gift from her Geisha mother, Kikuya. Her claws are a soft pearl color; however, they are kept at a shorter length due to her kokyū playing and aesthetics for the tea house, but they still remain filed to a point and sharp.

Her only truly intimidating feature is a deep, guttural growl that could easily be mistaken for a much larger demon. Setsuna’s normal attire is that of a typical Geisha, minus the white makeup. Elaborate silk kimonos and obis, along with jeweled hair trinkets and pins. Her hair is never tied up, allowing her ears to remain out in the open. When she is training with the Naginata, she dons a black hakama, with a royal blue sash around her waist. Setsuna is almost always barefoot as she likes the feel of Earth on her skin.

Like all Hanyou, she reverts to a mortal Human form on the night of the new moon. She becomes weaker, as she loses all of her Demon abilities. Her hair fades to a dusty blonde color, and her eyes dull to a pale gray.  

Personality:

Setsuna is usually the center of the party. Having trained with her Geisha mother, she can strike up conversations easily with almost anyone. She has a laid-back demeanor, seeming to just roll with the punches. A smile of some sort is usually found on her face, giving her an easy to approach look. She has an old wisdom about her, and is always available to offer advice or find an answer to a question. She tends to have a soft spot for animals and children, but she prefers both go home with someone else. Her one true weakness is a field of wild flowers, or flowers of any kind. Though she hates to admit it, she’s a sucker for romance and intimate physical touches.

Unfortunately, with a decent amount of Demon blood in her veins, Setsuna is not the quiet, demure creature one would expect when they see her in full Geisha attire. Having been raised by thieves, her mouth is dirtier than a sewer grate, and her mind has been likened to that of a lecherous old man’s. Even with traditionally excitable genetics, she is calm, collected, and calculating, preferring her enemies to either make fools of themselves or to wander right into her trap. Though she has never been in a true battle, the canine in her usually wishes a mother fucker would so she could let her Naginata bathe in blood. Of course, that doesn’t mean she goes looking for a fight, but should one happen to peek around a corner….

Good Habit(s):

She is very understanding, and a good listener. No problem is too dramatic, or small for her ears. She offers honest advice (This could be good or bad) She is fiercely loyal to those who have earned it. Her colorful background and lifestyle have given her a wealth of wisdom and knowledge, both useful and not.  

Bad Habit(s):

Hot headed, she finds a boiling point rather quickly over certain things. Decently excitable, the World is a big adventure to a young Hanyou. Territorial, what’s hers is hers. Cursing bad enough to make perverts blush.

Like(s):

Walking in the forest, feeling the sun on her skin and the Earth on her bare feet. Having her hair done/played with. Food. Training with her Naginata. Playing the kokyū. Listening to stories, mostly battle and war stories. Thunderstorms at night. Wildflower fields.

Special Powers/Abilities:

Aside from the typical Hanyou speed, flexibility and agility, she has a natural ability to hide and camouflage herself due to her small stature. She’s also decently formidable in a fist fight. Intimidating low, guttural growl usually used for intimidation. Rapid healing.

Ambition/Life-long Dream:

Even though she longs for the thrill of battle, a more reasonable ambition would be to finally pay off her debts to Kikuya, and to open her own tea house that specializes in ‘unique’ Geishas like herself.

Love Interest:

Unknown.  

Occupation/Job:

Geisha, entertainer, Hanyou

Notes:

Now, I know y'all who follow the series are looking at me like, "Uh...THAT NAME IS FAMILIAR" And, yeah, I know, trust me. I had a moment when the official announcement was made, but when I created Setsuna, I actually used the name from the manga Angel Sanctuary ( showing my age here ), and this character was never meant to follow any sort of canon story line, ever, she was always strictly AU. With all that being said, please don't come for me. xD I am smol and anxiety ridden. I really just wanted to have her bio published, because I love this little shit of a Hanyou. She was one of my very first creations and holds a pretty special place in my cold black heart. A few more notes: I'm totally up for RP! Feel free to send me a note or whatever. I'm pretty laid-back, and open to most scenarios.

I usually ship Setsuna with Sesshomaru, because it's adorable, but, I’m open to any ship.  

She has no art. Like I said, this has been a long time coming, so I haven't had any art of her commissioned, but maybe in the near future I will. ( -eyeballs the extremely talented @destinyfall) But, I can give you details and photo references if you decide you would like to RP.

[creamypudding]

Combo story sneak peek

I sort of finished the Clack/AkuRoku combo story I started in 2017, waylaid for The Two Penguins, and picked back up this year to complete it for a Big Bang, which died before it ever took off. I say sort of finished because I haven’t written the very last chapter yet, which is an epilogue set several years after the end, and which I am not very invested in writing at the moment (if at all). I haven't read through the entirety of this story yet. It’s still in first draft. I’m going to put this to bed for now and get going on some other projects I’ve yet to start/complete. The break will let me come back to it with fresh eyes and opinions and I hope a feeling of wanting to refine it. 

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I don’t feel very satisfied finishing this story. Well... ok, thinking about it, I think I do know why I feel this way. In part, it’s because this story isn’t satisfying. It’s not got a happy end. But I suspect the main reason is that I don’t feel like the emotion I wanted to transpose from my own experience into this story is adequately portrayed. At least that’s how I feel not having read the whole thing in one go, nor even the last chapter in one go. Maybe I need to be kinder on myself. Maybe the story isn’t even so bad. And if the story does lack the emotional punch like I suspect, it’s probably something I can fix in the subsequent drafts. Anyway, for anyone interested, you can have a sneak peek at the first chapter. May it pique interest. If anyone wants to be a pre-reader for me please get in touch with me. I would appreciate at least one person to read through this and give me feedback on the story, pacing, character development, and relationships. Title: Fleeting Moments (working title) Chapter: 1/(possibly)7 Fandom: FFVII/Kingdom Hearts - Modern AU Pairing: Cloud/Zack and Axel/Roxas Rated: Mature (drug use -smoking and drinking-) Word Count: 8,170 Summary: Cloud and Roxas meet Zack and Axel in a laundry, of all places.

CHAPTER 1 -

The mechanical whir and swish of the washing machines was almost hypnotic, and drowned out the dripping of a leaky faucet somewhere within the laundry room. Cloud, with his back pressed to the wall, sat on the wooden bench lining the side closest to the door.

The laundry was wholly unremarkable. It smelt of washing detergent and liquid softeners. Garish lights above only served to wash out the drab, peeling paint of the walls even further. The cold, gray concrete floor had lost all its polished sheen, and the change and vending machines had all seen better days.

Yet this was one of Cloud’s favorite spots. Winter was dismal up in the mountains, with long hallways and wide open expanses lying between the laundry and his temporary residential housing. So Cloud chose to sit, cocooned in the underground warmth of this room, while he waited for his clothes to be washed so he could move them into the dryer.

He got a lot of reading done down here, which was a definite benefit. Most sane people chose to go do other things than hang in the laundry while their things got clean. So it was mostly quiet and empty in the laundry, and for Cloud this spelt sanctuary from society and his own rather busy life.

People came and went, and Cloud took no notice. He only looked up whenever a machine beeped, checking if it was his one announcing the completion of its cycle. It was never his, so he continued on with his book, an auto-biography. He found himself deeply engrossed in it when eventually a beeping did faintly register. He looked up again, like so many times before, searching out his machine. From where he sat he could make out the LCD display. There were still ten minutes left.

“Hey. Whatcha reading?”

Cloud jumped with a start and then frowned. Eyes darted to see where the question had come from. He found the source in seconds. A man stood by one of the machines facing the opposite wall. He was hauling clothes out of the toploader but looking directly at Cloud. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” came the apology, along with a smile, which lit up the man’s whole face. 

Cloud couldn’t fathom why he was being spoken to. “It’s fine. And, um… it’s a auto-biography of Ferdinand Papora.” Cloud flashed the front cover up, so the man could see it.

“Who’s that?”

“A racing car driver.”

“Pretty famous?”

“Obviously not famous enough if you’ve never heard of him.”

“Well he might be. I’m completely oblivious to that sort of thing. You like racing?”

“Not particularly.”

A confused look was followed up with the question, “So what’s with the book then?”

Cloud inspected the paperback cover before he spoke. “I just like to read biographies. Doesn’t really matter whose it is. And the library here has tons of different ones.” The man continued smiling. “That’s a cool way of expanding your horizons. I might take inspiration from you, if that’s all right.”

Cloud shrugged. “Go ahead. It’s not like I’ve got copyright over reading books on subjects I’ve no interest in.”

“Well, you must have some interest, right? I’ve been here for five minutes, trying to ask you a question but you were totally engrossed in that book.”

He felt slightly taken aback and said, “Oh. Sorry.”

“No worries. So the book’s a real page turner?” The man hoisted up a collapsible laundry basket and moved toward the dryer section.

“Mmm. It has its moments.”

“Think you’ll finish it?”

“Of course. I see things through to the bitter end.”

The man laughed. “That sounds dire. You a perfectionist?”

Cloud hummed thoughtfully. “Nah, I’m just a completionist.” “I stand corrected.” The man dumped his load of laundry into the dryer, inserted coins and pushed some buttons. “So this Ferdinand—ah…”

“Papora,” Cloud assisted.

“Yeah, him. What are some of his more notable moments?”

“Well,” Cloud inspected the book, to help jog his memory, “He survived three near-fatal crashes. Went through some pretty hefty rehab in hospital, and continues driving even to this day, despite the peg-leg.”

“Woah, seriously?”

“No. I made up the peg-leg, but the rest’s true.”

The man laughed loudly. It shook into Cloud a little. “What a shame. That would have made even me read the book.”

“It’s still a worthwhile read. The guy’s pretty… driven.”

Another laugh and a great big smile lifted and turned the other man’s rather tanned complexion a little darker. “Nice one.”

Cloud cracked a smile. He wasn’t usually this chatty, particularly with a stranger but… well he put it down to being in a relatively good mood.

The man closed the lid of the machine and leaned against it, looking across the room at Cloud. “I’m Zack, by the way.”

“Cloud,” he responded.

With raised eyebrows Zack said, “Nice name.”

Cloud gave a small sigh. His mood was about to go south. “Here we go,” he muttered.

The raven-haired man tilted his head to the side. “Go where?” 

“The weather related puns. Go on. I’ve heard them all.” He resigned himself to the inevitable. Cloud opened his book again to give a clear indication that he was done communicating.

“Really? That thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

Cloud laid eyes on him without lifting his head. “What was with that look, then?”

“What look?”

Cloud imitated what he had just witnessed.

Zack shrugged and pushed off the machine, walking toward Cloud. “It’s just how my face works. I think Cloud’s a cool name. They’re my favorite things about the sky, you know.” He came to a standstill a few steps away from Cloud.

Cloud skeptically scanned the man before him, dressed in dark jeans and a dark wool-knit turtleneck sweater. This close the man looked rather tall. It wasn’t even the thick heeled boots. He was probably really tall even without those on. Cloud wondered if he should he believe him. The man looked sincere enough; that soft smile plastered on the rather handsome face—broad cheeks, pointed jaw and nose—spoke of gentle earnestness. But with distrust in his voice Cloud questioned him, “Even more than stars?” Because everyone loved stars. It was a fact of life.

“Yeah. Even more than the stars and moon. Give me fluffy altocumulus or wispy cirrus clouds in a wide blue sky any day of the week. Even these nimbostratus clouds around here, bringing all the snow, are nice. But I do prefer the other ones. If I had to choose.” Zack tapped at lips, thoughtfully.

That response took Cloud by surprise. “Well, I’m impressed. Look at you, totally nerding out about clouds. You a meteorologist or something?”

“Nup. Just an amateur cloud fancier,” Zack grinned.

Cloud’s heart thumped a bit at that wording. He paid it no mind and returned a small smile of his own. Both men stayed like that for way too many moments. Cloud grew uncomfortable, desperately searching for something to say. He didn’t like people just looking at him. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Oh, right,” Zack slapped the side of his head. “I wanted to know if you’d have a drink with me this Saturday. I’ll be at the Clay Bar. Eight til late,” Zack positively beamed.

Cloud blinked, not comprehending. “What?”

“I mean, if you’re into it. If not then don’t worry.” The man’s toothy smile simmered down.

Had he heard right? Was he being asked out? By someone he just met? No way. Cloud opened his mouth to say… he knew not what.

“Cloud!” His name rang out several times, down the hallway, getting louder and louder by the second. 

Both men turned their heads to look at the source of the tumult. 

Roxas flew through the open doorway, “Cloud! Guess what! Sophia Tiller will be giving a symposium right here in the center!” By the time Roxas had finished that sentence he had slid with great force along the bench and was now in Cloud’s face, with hands resting on Cloud’s thighs.

“She is?”

“Yeah,” Roxas nodded eagerly.

Disbelief melted and excitement bubbled inside of Cloud. “We gotta get tickets.”

“Already sorted,” Roxas grinned.

“Nice one.” Cloud put his closed fist up and Roxas completed the gesture by fist bumping him.

The sound of a slight cough drew both men’s faces up and over.

Roxas frozen. The bubbling warm excitement gave way to overwhelming and sheer dread. Who was this guy? How long had he been there for? Had Roxas just embarrassed himself completely before a stranger? He looked to Cloud for a minute second.

Cloud saw the tension which seized Roxas. He gave him a quirked lip and a slight eyebrow raise to encourage him and let him know it was alright. That seemed to snap Roxas out of the panic. 

“Oh. Hey! Uh—” Roxas glanced between Cloud and the stranger. Could he regain some dignity? Could he just… avoid? “Did I… interrupt something?”

“Ah… this is Zack. Zack, this is Roxas. We were just…”

“I was just leaving. But it’s nice to meet you, Roxas,” Zack said with a big smile.

Cloud was relieved, because he didn’t know how he would have finished that sentence had he been left to his own devices.

“Ah,” Roxas let out, half in relief, half in reply.

The room was quiet other than the sound of the clunk-clunk-clunk of the dryer going around. The men all looked between each other. The whole situation felt unnaturally awkward.

A loud beeping startled everyone. Cloud saw that his load was finally done, so he got up and made his way over to the machine, thankful that it alleviated the weird tension. He walked right past Zack. It was unavoidable and made Cloud full aware of the man’s height. He barely came up to his shoulders, and in no way was he short, not like Roxas. 

“Do you need some help?” Zack asked as Cloud squatted down and pulled open the front loader door

“No, it’s what I’ve got Roxas for,” he said without looking up. “Roxas,” he commanded.

Roxas snapped out of his panicked thoughts which circled around telling him how he had embarrassed himself and how he was to blame for the absolutely stifling awkwardness which was in the room. “Coming,” he muttered and slid off the bench and shuffled over to Cloud, with his head bowed so as not to be seen by Zack. But Roxas still felt the towering presence. He reached Cloud, held out his arms and received the dumping of wet clothes. He then scurried over to the dryers, relieved to have his back to the source of his embarrassment.

Cloud stood up and followed Roxas with his eyes, but was brought back to himself as warmth radiated next to him. He turned and looked up at Zack out of the corner of his eye.

“Cute kid. He yours?” Zack nodded toward Roxas.

Cloud glowered. Roxas froze, somehow even more embarrassed. Kid? Roxas looked down at himself, dressed in his big blue Cookie Monster hoodie. He winced. 

“We’re brothers," Cloud almost growled.

“Oh.” Zack laughed and rubbed at his neck, “Shit, sorry for assuming. That’s embarrassing. Sorry. My mistake.”

Exasperated, Cloud said, “Can you just leave?”

“Oh.” The way Zack’s face fell felt a little comical to Cloud. “Yeah, sure. But.. before I do… are we… okay?” He looked at Cloud with concern, and then throwing his head in the direction of Roxas said, “Hey, Roxas, man, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that.”

Roxas was focusing all his energy on putting each individual item of clothing into the dryer separately. He waves with one hand, not turning to look at the other man, and said, “All good.” His face was burning up. He wanted to strip off his hoodie and dump it in the trash.

Cloud looked over at his brother; the tension in his shoulder, his slow movements. He could feel Roxas’ discomfort and embarrassment. Why was Zack still here? Maybe Cloud wasn’t being tough enough? He needed the other man gone. Cloud pressed his lips together, leaned against the washing machine with his arms folded across his chest and gave the other man a pointed staredown.

Zack took a step back as if Cloud’s stance had put up a physical barrier. “Uh-oh. I’ll leave, no worries. Bye, Roxas,” he said loudly, and then more quietly, “See ya around, Cloud, yeah? I hope we’re okay. Clay Bar. Eight to late on Saturdays.” Zack gave Cloud a little smile and a casual two-fingered salute and hurriedly left the laundry. His hasty footfalls echoed and faded down the hall.

Cloud let out a deep breath, peeled his eyes off the doorway and onto Roxas who turned around to face Cloud across the way. His cheeks were a deep, splotchy crimson. Cloud felt terrible for him.

The two brothers stared at each other for a few beats and then the smiles grew and the laughter started out of both of them.

“You really let him have it with your Cloud-stare-of-death,” Roxas giggled madly, feeling so good to have the anxiousness replaced by a different sensation.

"Well, he was making everything really uncomfortable."

Roxas stopped laughing. "I think that was just me."

"It wasn't."

"Oh." Roxas left it alone. They argued way too much about what was and wasn't his fault. Roxas supposed life would be easier if he could believe Cloud, but they were brothers, so Cloud would always say stuff to make him feel better. "Was that a friend of yours?" he deflected.

Cloud returned to the bench to collect his discarded book. “No. He’s just a random guy I literally only met about ten minutes ago.”

Roxas chuckled. “That’s so unlike you; making random friends in the laundry.”

“We’re not friends.”

“But he said something about going to the bar?”

Cloud didn’t want to think about it. “How’re you feeling?”

“Oh… yeah… okay, I guess? Now anyway. Do you think I dress like a little kid?” He pulled at his sweater, looking down at Cookies big smiley face.

“You shouldn’t worry about it. There’s nothing wrong with liking Cookie Monster.” “Yeah, but I’m twenty and a guy. I had to go to the women’s section to find all the cute stuff.” 

“Stop doubting yourself.” “You know I can’t do that. I wish it was easier.” Cloud sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. Is it getting better at all?”

“Little by little, I guess?” he shrugged.

Cloud smiled at his brother. “I definitely see the improvements you've made since you've been pushing yourself.”

The smile that should be on Roxas’ face never came. He just looked down at his sweater some more and frowned harder. “I still feel like I fall apart when you're not around.”

“Keep practicing. Worst case scenario; pretend I’m behind you, giving you this look—” Cloud gave him a dead serious and slightly angry scowl.

Roxas broke into a smile then and laughed. “Got it. The disappointed-dad glare. You do it so well.”

“I got it enough times to have mastered it.” Cloud rolled his eyes.

“He only looks at you like that because he loves you the most and expects the most from you.”

“Why couldn't you have been the older brother? It's all your fault,” Cloud threw out with a dismal and exaggerated sigh, ribbing Roxas.

Roxas stuck his tongue out as way of reply. “Hey, but that guy; Zack.”

Cloud sat down, trying to cast his mind back on that weird encounter. “What about him?”

“I think he’s got the hots for you.”

Cloud gave a startled cough. “Huh?”

“He was totally checking you out when you got the laundry out.”

“No.” “He did. I was stressing out but I still noticed. He totally was.”

Cloud groaned. “How about you get the dryer started or our clothes’ll never dry.”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” Roxas remembered what he came down here for. He turned back to the forgotten machine and inserted the coins.

Having Roxas’ eyes off him gave Cloud some reprieve to acknowledge what he was trying to deny himself. “You really think so?—about Zack?” he asked tentatively.

“Yup.” Roxas smacked the machine and felt it jolt to life with a loud rumble. He turned back around and walked over to where Cloud was sitting.

“Damn.” Cloud wrinkled his nose and looked at the floor. “What’s up?” Roxas returned to Cloud’s side giving him an inquisitive look.

“If you’re right then he also totally asked me out on a date before you came in.”

Roxas’ eyes and mouth sprang open. “Ooooo,” Roxas sing-songed and giggled. He snappily sat down next to Cloud and nudged his side with his elbow. “So I did ruin the mood, huh.”

“There was no mood to ruin,” Cloud denied and stood up. He hadn’t even been sure of what it had been before Roxas had bombarded him with his observations.

“You gonna take him up on the offer?”

Cloud pressed his lips together, thinking about it

“Hmm? Well?” Roxas grinned up at his always too serious brother.

Cloud grimaced and turned away from Roxas a little. He wasn't used to people asking him out, preferring to keep to himself as much as possible. But… “He is sort of… attractive,” he understated with a mutter. 

“Only sort of?” The tease was unmistakable.

Sexy chiseled jaw, tight jeans, cool leather jacket, and did he already think of those tight jeans? He had smelt really nice too as he had passed him. Cloud merely grunted and then conceded with a small, “Maybe.”

Roxas sniggered and wore a satisfied smirk. “Attaboy.”

“Shut up. When’s this Sophia Tiller thing happening?”

“Oh right. Two weeks from now. I left the flyer with all the info on the kitchen counter.”

“Okay. I’ll go email it out to both our groups and then I really need to get ready for work. Don’t forget to take the clothes out.” “No worries. I’m on it, and thanks!” Roxas waved as Cloud took his leave of the laundry room. --------------

Roxas sat in the laundry, fiddling around on his phone to pass the time. He played some mindless games, trawled through online message boards, and checked the clothes, separating and pulling out the items which were drier than the others and putting them in a plastic bag he had pulled out from his pocket.

Dark hair and a somewhat familiar face popped through the doorway at some point, attracting Roxas’ attention.

“Hey, Roxas. Is it okay if I come in? I need to get my stuff out of the dryer.”

Roxas felt his stomach drop and butterflies kicked up a storm. His heart jolted into an uneasy pace. He pulled his arms around himself, trying to hide his sweater. Heat prickled his chest and cheeks. “You don’t have to ask me. It’s a public space,” he got out, trying to shut off his thoughts.

“I just thought… if I make you uncomfortable I can always leave and come back later.” 

That offer took Roxas aback. “N-no, you’re fine to come in.” 

“Oh, cool.” Zack grinned and he strode into the warm room. “I didn't mean any offence.”

Roxas just nodded, hoping Zack would leave him alone, and he pulled his phone out again, hunching in on himself with his feet up on the bench, knees up and slouching against the corner wall. But apparently Zack took Roxas’ silence as something entirely different— 

“I'm sorry, really. I just wanted to figure out who you were to Cloud. I didn't wanna overstay my welcome if you were… well, you know.”

Roxas didn't, but figured he had to make conversation if he was ever going to have Zack believe that he wasn't angry at him. He tried to picture Cloud’s disappointed-dad face and told himself it was fine because he had already made a fool of himself once. He took a deep breath and then, “It’s all good. All fine. Really. A lot of people assume I'm much younger than I am.” And no wonder with the way that he looked and often times acted. If he wasn’t running away from social situations he ended up saying dumb shit which made him look like a complete imbecile.

Zack advanced further towards Roxas’ position. “Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

“You don't have to keep saying that. You're not in Cloud’s bad books or anything,” he muttered, wondering—hoping—that this wasn't really about himself.

“Well, he does love reading,” Zack chuckled to himself. “Ah… hey, Roxas,” Zack sat down and slid across the bench toward him. Roxas pulled his knees closer to himself. “You think I'm in with a chance? With your brother, I mean.”

The tight coil of panic eased a little bit and he felt breathing to be a little easier. It really was all about Cloud. Thank god! Zack clearly didn’t care about him at all. Such a relief! He shrugged by way of reply. Cloud would definitely hurt him if he told Zack what they had discussed earlier.

“Got any tips for me?”

Roxas shook his head. He wanted to be left alone, so he looked back down at his phone.

The hint seemed to finally be received. Zack sighed and got up. “It wasn't supposed to be an interrogation. Just came to get my stuff.” He walked to a dryer and started pulling clothes out.

Roxas would have felt relieved… if he didn’t feel so bad. He wished for Cloud to be around to make him feel more at ease. But he wasn’t, and Roxas was stuck in his own anxiety-riddled skin. He stared blankly at his phone, tapping the screen to keep it from going into sleep, while all his senses were trained on Zack, without directly looking at him.

He worried and wondered what Zack thought of him to an unreasonable extent. Why should it matter to him? He didn’t even know Zack. But no amount of reasoning ever seemed to do him any good. He wanted to leave a good impression though. He didn’t want Zack to hate him, especially if he would be around for a while. The fact that Cloud had apparently engaged Zack enough for them to have talked for a bit was significant. Unless it was for business, or a close friend or family member, Cloud didn’t give people so much as the time of day. For some weird reason this felt weighty, in his chest and limbs, and especially in his head.

Lid slammed. Roxas tore his unfocused gaze away from his phone and up toward Zack, who walked carrying his load of washing in a cloth bag. His unhurried but determined footsteps echoes around the quiet space. “Later, Roxas.” He gave a wave and a congenial smile.

Roxas was totally leaving a terrible impression right now. He could feel it. “Peanut butter,” he burst out as Zack vanished through the doorway.

Footsteps ceased and seconds later Zack leaned backward through the doorway and looked at Roxas, confused. “Huh?”

“Cloud. He loves peanut butter. Smooth. Not crunchy.”

Gray-blue eyes lit up and Zack’s smile stretched wide across his face. “Thanks, man!” and with that Zack was gone, his steps fading off into the distance of the long concrete hallway beyond.

Roxas was left alone once more and he breathed out his nerves. He had managed to not make a fool of himself this time. But what if Cloud got angry with him? Should he really have given the man any information about anything pertaining to his own flesh and blood? Had he become some sort of an accomplice? Roxas tried to take a deep, calming breath. And another. And another. “Fuck!” He got up, poked his head out past the doorway to see if anyone was around. The coast was clear. He went toward the back of the laundry, around a corner where the wash basins for handwashing were situated. He went to the very back corner, squeezing in between the end of the washbasin and the corner wall to where a ventilation grate sat recessed in the wall. He loosened the screws which held the vent grate in place. A bit of jiggling leant itself to the metal coming out of its wall fitting. It revealed a hollow and dark cavity, leading out of the building. Roxas reached into the void, expertly finding what he had put there himself; a ziplock bag with a stage of cigarettes and a lighter inside. He looked at the bag and swore. He only had one left. 

Without thinking about it he took the lone smoke and lighter out and shoved the empty bag back in the hole. He’d have to bum a few smokes off someone when he got another chance. That thought made him feel even more stressed out. 

His hands jittered a little but he got himself lit up after two tries. He took a deep dragging suck of the heavy smoke. It delightfully hit that spot right at the top of his throat and instantly soothed his nerves. He took a few more longer drags, exhaling into the vent and then stubbed out the cigarette and returned it into the bag. He wasn’t a heavy smoker. It was just a vice to help soothe his nerves. If he could save this cigarette he’d be spared the anxiety of having to ask strangers for a new one. 

“Blowing-fucking-hole-of-motherfucking-shit!”

Roxas jumped with fright and snapped his attention to the main part of the laundry. He quickly worked at securing the vent and quietly walked over to the corner, to peek around and see what was going on.

He saw the source of the profanity and it certainly wasn't hard to spot; a lanky redhead, sporting hands on hips, staring at the detergent vending machine which was mounted on the wall near the first row of washing machines.

Roxas slunk back around his corner and took deep breaths. The few puffs he had of the nicotine still calmed him. He could stay hidden here. He could go over to the dryer and check it to make himself look busy. There was no need to be shy or nervous.

“Why’re there so many Goddamn brands to choose from in this metallic piss pot?” A loud metallic thump sounded through the space. 

Roxas felt his heart sink. He probably should help. No one else was around after all and the longer he lingered in indecisiveness the worse his embarrassment would be if the guy realized he had been in here all along. Roxas pictured Cloud’s stern stare. He told himself to play it cool, took a deep breath, clenched his trembling fists, and stepped out of his hiding nook, saying, “You need a hand with anything?”

The man jumped and yelped. He whirled around, squeaking slightly, “Oh geez. Where’d you come from?”

Roxas stared at piercing green eyes, high cheekbones and pointed chin. An overwhelming sense of inadequacy rushed through him. This stranger was completely handsome. Roxas shrunk in on himself, crossing his arms in front of himself, trying to hide Cookie Monster. He screamed at himself for still wearing the sweater. 

“Eh…” the man said.

Roxas blinked rapidly. Shit. What had been the question? “My mom and dad?” 

The redhead’s eyebrow rose as did the corner of his mouth.

Roxas screamed internally at his stupidity. He was aiming for cool - not complete dork. “I-I mean I’ve just been here,” he gave a vague shrug towards the dryers. Had he saved it? “Need help?” he tried to deflect walking closer and calling himself names.

The amusement the other man wore melted away, “Yes! I don’t normally do laundry. I have no idea which of these to use.” He pointed at the dispenser and stuck his hands deep into his jean pockets.

Roxas' heart raced uncomfortably, his palms sweat, but he could handle the topic of laundry. He’d just focus on that instead of vivid green eyes. He walked over with a bit of confidence as he fixed his gaze onto the vending machine. He tried to ignore the fact that the redhead was very tall. He hugged himself tighter, really wishing he had worn something cool today, instead of childish. “Well,” he began, “most of these are all the same. You can have liquid or powder—not that it really matters. The only thing you might need to watch out for is if you’ve got sensitive skin. Then you’d want this one or this one,” Roxas pointed and looked ever so briefly at the other man. “And don't even worry about all these at the bottom. No one needs fabric softener in their lives.”

“But what if I hate scratchy fabric on my delicate skin?”

Roxas looked up and studied the man next to him then, not sure if he was being messed with or if the guy was sincerely concerned. But he couldn’t tell because he got too distracted by porcelain skin which accentuated and drew out the color of the green eyes and the red hair and Roxas had never seen someone like this before, and he hung out with artists all the time, but still nothing compared to that color palette and what was he looking at the man for again?

The mesmerizing green eyes flicked onto Roxas. Thin lips quirked up into a smile.

Roxas quickly looked away and pulled his stupid mouth shut. How long had he been slack-jawed for? Washing Powders! “Ah—” he cleared his throat and tried again, “Then maybe do buy the softener?” 

“Nah. Think I'll manage without it.” 

Whether on purpose or by accident the man's arm brushed Roxas'. He hardly heard the next part because he was so focused on inconspicuously shifting away from the redhead. 

“I’m pretty easy. I could wash my clothes in dish soap and I’d be fine. Why don’t we use dish soap for clothes?”

Roxas shrugged, trying to catch his breath and tell his head to shut up and to not say anything more embarrassing. “Wouldn’t want your clothes squeaky and sparkling, right?” An internal groan followed. He couldn’t pull off cool in a million years. Dork it was always destined to be.

A small laugh came out of the other man and then he said, “Right.”

Roxas’ heart pounded. His cheeks were so definitely red and hot and fuck he wanted to vanish. ‘Just focus on the topic,’ he told himself. “Anyway, you’re better off using this one,” Roxas pointed to the brand Cloud always used. “That seems to work best with these old machines.” “Cool. Thanks.”

Roxas gave the briefest of smiles to the stranger, not daring to focus too hard on his face. He turned his back and walked to his machine where he was definitely going to throw himself into it and disappear from view. He got to his destination, opened the lid but determined he wouldn’t fit. Instead he checked on the clothes, especially the jeans; checking the hems to see if they were drying properly.

“Yo, guy—dude—you. Cookie!"

Cookie! Roxas was mortified and absolutely wanted to die. He turned his head to take a look and saw flailing hands, beckoning him over.

“Roxas,” he offered, shutting the lid of the dryer to let it continue its tumbling. He reluctantly walked toward the redhead, still trying to distort Cookie Monster on his chest by bunching the fabric up.

“Sure. Sup. I’m… Axel. So this machine… what gives?”

“Whaddya mean? Have you never used one of these?”

“No. Well, yeah. But usually there’s like one button to push and I walk away. These things are ancient.”

That made Roxas huff with a small laugh. “Yeah. Their almost like lost relics from another dimension.” Roxas’ smile fell when he saw Axel give him a confused look. He kicked himself. Why couldn't he stick to simple yes and no answers? He didn't know, but he grew determined to be helpful and just focus on the machine, and not the man. “Ah… you just set the cycle here, hit this, spin that and you’re done. Oh and don’t forget to put the detergent in there.” Roxas pointed to all the things he mentioned.

“Awesome. Thanks, man.”

Roxas gave a small nod and turned to get distance between himself and Axel. He barely made it back to his machine before he heard a frustrated grumble.

“I did what you said. So why isn't it starting?” A metallic thud echoed.

Would this troubleshooting nightmare ever end? Couldn't Roxas be left alone? How much more help did he have to give? Clearly, this was a cruel test on his determination for self-improvement. Roxas turned back around. “Kicking it won't help.”

“Maybe. But it's fun. Wanna try?” Axel grinned.

Roxas’ nervousness died a little bit. He shook his head and returned to Axel's side, checking all the settings, redoing them himself and then they both stood around, hands on hips, looking at it.

Axel gave a loud groan and bowed his head. “I’m not cut out for domestics.”

“I don’t know why it’s not working. You put money in, didn’t you?”

Axel raised his head, stared at Roxas and suddenly looked behind Roxas and pointed, “What’s that over there?”

Roxas snapped his attention behind himself. Was it a fire? A large bug? Another person having walked in? He saw nothing bar the empty doorway. Had he just been made fun of? Roxas turned back around fully prepared to get laughed at but saw the other man slip two coins into the coin slot of the machine and push the start button. 

The machine sputtered to life.

Axel side-eyed Roxas, and Roxas quickly looked away. 

“Oh look, magic! It works now!”

The smile grew and Roxas tried to stifle it but he laughed anyway and Axel let out a small laugh as well. They looked back at each other, smiling.

“Amazing magic,” Roxas remarked, nervous tension sliding off his chest.

Axel nodded. “Hey, uh… Roxas?”

“Mm?”

“You seem like the kind of guy who would know where to get a smoke around here.”

The good mood froze inside of Roxas. “Why?” he asked as he stared.

“Well, I can smell it on you.”

Shit. Roxas frowned and snapped at himself for having been so careless. He was so fucking lucky that Cloud wasn’t around right now. “And?” he asked, hesitant of where this would lead.

“I could really use one right about now.”

Roxas could relate. He debated with himself whether or not to give Axel directions to the tobacconist down in the town or if he should keep Axel around. He heavily leaned toward sending Axel away but… “Well—” He looked around, making sure the coast was clear, and then beckoned Axel to follow him around the corner to where the handwash basins and his hidden stash were.

This was unprecedented, but Roxas thought they had shared 'a moment' so maybe it would be all right. He walked with purpose to the corner of this section of the room and squeezed into the gap between the washbasin and the wall. Axel was right beside him, squeezing into the small space as well.

Their sides were pressed together. Roxas could smell a hint of musk and feel the other man’s radiating body heat. He really hoped he wasn't going to say something stupid as he began talking, “Can you keep a secret?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Axel leaned down. “I’m master of secret keeping.”

Roxas swallowed down the lump forming. Axel’s warm breath brushing against his face was caught and detected by every fine hair on Roxas’ cheeks and caressed his lips. Nervous butterflies swirled around inside himself. “Ah… normally I wouldn’t do this but—” The tremble and buzzing radiated outward from the pit of his stomach. Roxas really needed to calm his nerves. A smoke would help. He shifted, turning toward the wall, and swiftly got the grate undone and his half-smoked cigarette and the lighter out again.

“Ooo, a secret stash!” 

Roxas heard the excitement in Axel’s voice as he slotted the grate back into place, without redoing the screws. He pressed his back against the opposite wall, trying to get an inch of space between himself and the other man, before offering up the nearly half-smoked cigarette.

"Sorry, this is all I've got left."

Axel took it, but not without dragging a finger down the length of Roxas’ hand. "Thank you for sharing it with me." 

The touch nullified all of Roxas’ thoughts and sent his heart racing. He looked up at green eyes, which looked down at him, half closed. Roxas didn’t know what to make of it. He simply watched long fingers holx and push the cigarette against thin lips in a well-practiced manner.

"We'll share the rest of this one?" Axel mumbled past the obstruction in his mouth and leaned towards the lighter which Roxas held up.

Roxas nodded and flicked the lighter a few times. He could hardly breath. Green eyes kept looking at him in a way that was too sexy for Roxas to comprehend. He needed to smoke a whole packet if he was ever going to recover from this.

Roxas kept flicking the lighter, hating himself that he couldn’t get the blasted thing working. He never had a problem doing this in the past. The one time someone was watching him—someone insanely hot, no less—and he couldn't get the blasted thing working. Well, of course, it figured.

“Here.” The other man's warm hand clasped over Roxas’, steadying him enough so the flame could be lit.

The touch was almost electric with the jolt it sent through Roxas and the flutters it caused. He felt so embarrassed that it made him nauseous.

“You don’t do this very often?” Axel leaned the cigarette into the flame and took a few drags to get it lit.

“Only sometimes—blow into the vent,” he instructed. “Stops the place from stinking, and the fire alarm from going off.” 

Axel hummed in appreciation. Whether it was from the nicotine hitting him or from Roxas’ instructions he couldn’t tell.

Smoke was exhaled into the ventilation system. “Clearly you've done this enough times to know the ins and outs of the place. A real veteran at doing the sneaky sneaky, huh” Axel grinned and winked before passing the cigarette on.

Roxas took it, trying his best to ignore the way their fingers touched and connected. The longer he was pressed up against Axel like this the more in need of a smoke he was. He took a drag, and pulled thick air into his lungs, where the nicotine could do its magic. He let out a shaky breath into the ventilation system and coughed a bit at the end.

More embarrassment welled, counteracting the calming effect the smoke was supposed to have on his nerves.

Roxas passed the cigarette back and saw the way Axel barely held laugh at bay.

“Go on. Let it out.”

“Nah. Couldn't do that. Not after your generosity.” Axel took another puff. “Ah… what about the ashes?”

“Tap them into the sink behind you. We’ll wash them down after.”

Axel did laugh at that. “Nice. You got this all figured out. But why the covert operation? Last I checked smoking wasn't illegal—outside that is. Pretty illegal us doing it in here. You doing it for the extra buzz?” Axel chuckled, passing the smoke once more and as it got smaller and smaller their fingers grazed and connected more and more.

“My brother would lose his shit if he found out.” “Why’s he such a busy-body?"

“Our grandad and uncle died from lung cancer. So it’s probably a genetic predisposition and probably in my best self-interest to not smoke. But… you know,” Roxas shrugged, feeling more relaxed in his own skin even as he could feel himself trembling and feel his cheeks oh so hot with the flush he was experiencing. “Once in a while won't kill me, right?”

“I hope not. Would be a waste.” Axel smiled and Roxas chose to look at the wall instead.

They passed the cigarette between one another for a few more pulls before it was all used up. Roxas was glad when it was all over. Having to reach his arm around the guy so he could ash was wearing on him. As was all the body contact, if Roxas was honest with himself. He tried to ignore it because he could feel his heart race every time he noticed the sensation of legs against his own and the man's pelvis and hips digging in. He shifted as discreetly as he could because he was getting hard and he would die if Axel could feel.

Roxas turned away a little and pulled the grate off the wall once more and disposed of the butt in there and replaced the lighter. He really lamented the fact now that he would have to try and bum another smoke off someone in the near future. That activity alone was so nerve-wracking that he really considered forking out the cash to buy a whole pack for himself. But that seemed too risky for the once in a while medicating relief the cigarettes provided. He sighed to himself in resignation and Pulled out a packet of gum.

He turned back to face Axel, pressing himself tight against the wall to create some space between his groin and the warm delicious and ridiculously hot man before himself and held out the packet. “You want?”

Axel laughed and took a stick. “Thanks. What else you got hidden in there? Drugs?”

Roxas took a piece of gum, popped it in his mouth and threw the packet back in the vent. “Um… just this,” he reached in and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. What the hell. He figured he might as well go all the way with incriminating himself. 

“Oh my God, Roxas!” 

The look of surprised mirth, coupled with the laugh Axel gave, sent a tingle down Roxas’ body. “What?” he asked, trying to hide the smile. He figured his blush couldn't get any deeper so chose to ignore that, and instead focused on how maybe, just maybe, he was pulling off cool?

“Don't be giving me that cute little smile. You're way too badass for that.” Axel laughed some more.

Roxas let the smile spread. He totally was pulling it off. If it wouldn't have a detrimental effect Roxas would have cheered and fist pumped the air. “You wanna?” He held the bottle aloft.

Axel accepted it, unscrewed the top, took out his gum, and took a long swig. He passed it back to Roxas when he was done.

“I shouldn't have accepted the drink,” Axel lamented, popping the gum back in.

“Why not?” Roxas looked at him, confused, and took a deep gulp of his own. It tasted weird with the combination of cigarette smoke and minty gum freshness, but the taste wasn't the reason for drinking for Roxas.

“Well, now I can’t use my line of 'we should go out for a drink some time,’ on you, now can I?”

Roxas choked, coughed and sputtered, bending over a little, sending his forehead right into Axel's chest.

Axel's hand was on Roxas' back in moments, patting and rubbing, which only made Roxas sputter more.

“Take it easy.”

Roxas got control of himself, screwed the cap back on, replaced his gum, and thrust the bottle deep into the vent, closing it up. He was making a colossal fool of himself. His mood sullied considerably. “I can't go out for a drink with you anyway.”

“Why not? Do you need your brothers permission for that as well?”

“No. But I'm twenty, so legally not allowed in this dumb country.”

“I should probably be upset about you callin’ my country dumb—” Roxas suddenly froze, but then breathed out a small sigh as Axel continued, “but the drinking age is dumb. So I’ll let it slide. Do you really have a reason to complain though? You somehow got your hands on a red label,” Axel grinned. “You certainly are something else, Roxas, I'll give ya that.”

“Uh… thanks?”

“You're welcome.”

They were still wedged against each other, between the wall and the wash basin. Neither of them giving the slightest hint to the other that they should move. Well... Roxas couldn’t. He felt frozen in place, party by want and party due to sheer terror. He thought his legs would buckle and collapse under him. Axel was keeping him upright and as Roxas looked up at him he hoped he remembered to blink as he stared deep into pools of green. 

Those eyes were so damn sexy.

Axel’s mouth drifted open, his eyes widened a fraction and softened just as quickly. “Ah, thanks. Yours are gorgeous too.” He smiled gently.

Roxas tensed up and forgot to breathe. He swore he could feel all the blood drain away from his face. Had he said something? Shit. He stammered out, “S-sorry. I shouldn't have—they’re not—I mean you’re not—you are—but—just… sorry.” He quickly extracted himself from the tight corner.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” It came out too hoarse and harsh for his own liking. Roxas berated himself for being a massive idiot.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you for sharing your secret stash with me?”

At least Axel wasn’t teasing him about it. That made him feel somewhat relieved. Roxas, feeling a tiny bit more composed, turned around. Green eyes darted upwards, where they exchanged looks. Fuck! Axel had seen Cookie Monster. Thought Roxas had lied about his age. Thought he was a complete moron and a little kid. Roxas crossed his arms. He was going to burn the sweater, he swore he would. But first he needed this to end. His nerves were getting shot again and he felt like he might need to down the whole bottle if this went on for much longer. With a bowed head and a deep grumble he said, “Can you please just forget what a massive dork I am?” 

“Dork? I think you’re really cute… and a bit sexy.” Axel stepped out of the corner to stand right in front of Roxas.

That froze Roxas up completely. He stared at the black boots with a red trim. Swallowing down the tight lump in his throat he slowly lifted his gaze up over jeans, and the red and black sweater up to Axel’s face, where he saw a soft expression.

With hands deep in pockets, Axel said, “If I can’t buy you a drink at least let me take you out.”

“Like… on a date?”

“Mm. Not really but kinda?” he shrugged.

Roxas didn’t understand what that was supposed to mean. “No. Look, that’s not necessary. I didn’t share this with you ‘cause I wanted anything back.”

“Aren’t you nice.”

Roxas frowned and hugged himself tighter, looking away.

“Roxas?” “What?” he snapped, shooting Axel a grumpy look.

“I’d really like to hang out with you some more.”

It was bizarre and out of left field. Roxas looked around himself, half expecting someone to jump out and yell, 'Gotcha!' “Why? I suck.”

Axel chuckled. “Do you now?”

Roxas wanted to die to escape the embarrassment. “No. I…”

“It’s all right. I blow, you know,” Axel winked.

Roxas choked a bit on his spit. “What?” he croaked. What was even happening right now?

“I blow. I’m in this band and I play the sax. What did you think I meant?”

That cheeky smile said it all. Axel was teasing him. For good or for bad Roxas couldn't tell. “I didn’t think that. No.” He grumbled some more and hunched in on himself more.

“Shame, 'cause if you did, well—” Axel flashed his eyebrows up and a smirk bloomed while he flicked his tongue out to wet his lips.

A swirling hurricane of emotions and thoughts whirled through Roxas. What was going on? This stuff never happened to him. People didn’t hit on him. Axel was doing that, right? Or maybe he did just delight in making Roxas flush deeply and to make him uncomfortable? Roxas opened his mouth, but nothing bar incoherent sounds come out.

A low chuckle flowed from Axel. “It’s all right. Come and watch me blow—this Saturday. Any time after eight.”

Had Axel moved closer to Roxas? It felt like there was no space between them. He took a step back. “I ah—I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Good.”

The harsh beeping of the dryer was like a warm embrace from a dear loved one. “That’s me,” Roxas said with haste, turned and almost bolted to his station. As he pulled out the clothes with great speed and determination he heard Axel’s footsteps drawing closer.

“It was fun, Roxas. Don’t forget, this Saturday at the Clay Bar, yeah? You need to see me in action.”

“Yeah, I’ll… maybe.” Roxas slammed the lid shut and almost ran out of the laundry, the bag of laundry thrown over his shoulder. If he had left anything behind he wasn’t coming back for it.

That’s it for chapter one. Feedback appreciated. If you’d like to pre-read the rest for me get in touch on here or Discord or twitter. All my relevant contact info can be found on my AO3 Profile page.

[escapingreality1992]

The Movie Queen and Her Captain

Luna and Steve Rogers have a Harry Potter marathon and things get steamy.

"How is it possible for you to not even flinch during a horror movie? I mean, seriously? Not one jump scare got you," Natasha asked while we walked into the front entrance of our home; the compound. We had just finished watching A Nightmare on Elm Street at the theater; they had a Halloween special going on where they'd show older movies to get people in the mood for spooky season.

"Call me the queen of horror movies. Or movies in general. But technically I've already seen that one. At least I'm not the one who jumped when he had the longest arms on the planet," I replied.

"First of all, it weirded me out and second it was really disturbing. If I saw someone walking down the street with arms long enough to circle my entire body, I'd run too,"

"Except you wouldn't escape because it's a dream. It's the whole point of the story line. He kills you in your dreams. You wouldn't get very far either. That's his ultimate power, trapping you in dreams. Though I bet you could take him. You are the Black Widow after all," I argued.

"Still, it's going to give me nightmares and not the ones I normally get," She stated. As we neared the lounge, the smell of buttered popcorn hit my nose, both of us sneaking in the lounge to see what the boys were watching while wearing sweats. Peeking around the corner, I recognized the movie as The Exorcist, suppressing a giggle before catching Natasha's gaze. Her lips twisted in a wicked smile, the same idea coming to mind. Crouching low, we slunk to the couches, each picking a specific target; Nat's favorite person to scare was Tony, she always squealed in delight when he shrieked like a girl. I switched my targets each time, today's choice being Sam. I got Steve last week while he had been getting a glass of water in the middle of the night and I decided to go easy on him this week.

As the scene played on - the one in which the main character levitated - you could feel the tension in the air creating the perfect timing for us to launch out attack. Once the priests reached the third part of their chant, we sprung up and shouted 'BOO!', our hands landing on the intended targets. Popcorn and bowls flew into the air, shrieks - not screams - sounded around the room, making Natasha and I cackle with laughter.

"Oh my god! You should see your faces," I stated after Tony asked FRIDAY to turn on the lights.

"Why? Why do you two feel the need to scare people?" he complained, shooting us a glare. We laughed again and at his huff, we attempted to contain ourselves.

"Sorry, sorry. It's fun to do and the expressions on you guys right now are worth it. Don't forget it's spooky season, which is by far the best time to terrify anyone. If anything, it's your fault for putting on a scary movie creating the perfect opportunity to scare y'all anyway," Natasha said. She sat down on the couch beside Bucky, kissing him on the cheek. He blushed, draping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. I smiled, loving their relationship with each other. They had been dating for six months, their chemistry undeniable. I settled in between Steve and Thor, rubbing their arms to calm them down.

"I take it you had fun at the theater?" Steve asked me.

"Of course. Natasha got scared during some of the movie though," I responded.

"No, I didn't," I raised my eyebrows at Nat as if to say 'sure you didn't'. "Maybe a little. Anyways, are we going to finish this movie or not?" she commented.

"You two aren't going to scare us anymore right?" Sam asked.

"No more scaring. We promise," Nat and I said at the same time; it sounded a bit reminiscent of the twins from The Shining. The horrified looks on the guys' faces made us laugh before apologizing and saying we wouldn't do it again. Tony resumed the movie, most falling asleep before the credits rolled; the only ones still awake were Steve, Loki, Vision, and me. Lights flooded the room when the DVD menu popped up, causing the sleepers to squint their eyes tighter against the brightness.

"I guess it's a good time to call it a night. Let's head to bed. There's nothing much to do tomorrow anyway," Tony stated, yawning and stretching as he stood up. Each Avenger went separate ways to their rooms, some like Wanda and Vision and Bucky and Nat went to the same room together; others to their individual chambers. I had the good fortune to be escorted by Steve to mine as we were adjacent to each other on the same hallway.

"Thank you for walking me to my room," I told him, opening my door and switching on the light.

"No problem. Good night Luna," he told me.

"Night, Steve," I said, turning to go inside and change into my pajamas.

"Hey, uh, Movie Queen?" I heard Steve ask. My lips quirked into a small smile at the nickname.

"Yes? What can I do for you Spangly Man?" Steve chuckled, leaning against the door frame.

"You have all of the Harry Potter films right?"

"All on blu ray too. Why?"

"Would you want to do a marathon with me?"

"Tonight? It's a little late don't you think?" His smile faded at that and he turned to return to his room.

"How about tomorrow? We can start at 7 a.m. All the movies back to back equate to 18 hours and 20 minutes without the credits. It'll be around 1 a.m. when we finish but we still have to account for bathroom breaks and food," I offered, my words freezing him mid-step. He spun around to face me.

"Tomorrow. I'll meet you in the lounge at 7," he agreed, walking backwards to his room, hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants. I smiled, closing my door to turn in for the night.

My alarm woke me at 6:30, giving me plenty of time to freshen up and change into a tank top and sweatpants before meeting Steve in the lounge with the 8 Harry Potter movie in tow. I found him with a bunch of pillows and blanket in his arms and arched an eyebrow.

"What do you have there?" I asked, curious to know what he was planning.

"Supplies for our marathon. I thought we should be ultra comfortable if we're watching all of these movies. Question. Would it be too bold of me to ask if we could move downstairs to the theater room? I don't want to be interrupted if the others walk through the lounge," he answered me.

"No, not at all. It'll be fun when it's only the two of us and I want you to have the full experience. Head on down. I'll grab a few drinks and snacks," I told him. Steve nodded and walked down the steps while I went into the kitchen. I got a bag of popcorn going while I pulled out water and a few cans of soda, placing them in a separate bowl. Emptying the popcorn into the second bowl I set out and tucking the movies under my arm, I grabbed both bowls and joined Steve in the giant theater room; blankets and pillows gathered on the massive couch. I handed Steve the popcorn bowl, pulling out a water for him and one soda for me; I stored the other drinks in the mini fridge for later. I set up the screen and DVD player, hitting play when the menu came up. Joining Steve on the couch, I shifted under one of the blankets.

"Are you excited?" I whispered, grabbing some popcorn.

"Definitely. It's going to be a fantastic date," His response stunned me and before I could say something, the first scene started up, silencing me.

Date? I didn't think he liked me in that way, I thought. Some part of me always hoped he might; I had developed a huge crush on him over the years but never made a move to ask him out. Believe me, I wanted to but every time I tried, I backed away from the subject too afraid of rejection and then have our friendship ruined. I remained silent through the first two movies and we took our first bathroom break before starting the third. I hesitated in pressing play, wanting to talk about what he said before the first movie.

"Steve?"

"Yes, Luna?"

"Nevermind. Let's get this next one going," I stated, once again chickening out and pressed play. More silence ensued, the occasional glance from me over at him to see if he was enjoying the movies; he definitely was, no surprise there. Our hands accidentally touched during the scene with the dementors before they went back in time to save lives. Halfway through the fourth movie, we decided to order in some Italian food for dinner, resuming the movie after it arrived. Tears were shed from me at Cedric's death, Steve moving closer to console me by rubbing my shoulders. During the fifth, the air conditioning came on and I tried to refrain from shivering despite the blanket draped over my body.

"Are you cold?" he whispered. I shook my head and continued to silently suffer. My body betrayed me half an hour later, shivering more when it became unbearable.

"You're cold. Come here and snuggle with me," Steve whispered, moving the bowl of popcorn he made before starting the Order of the Phoenix. I slid into his side, letting him drape an arm over me. I melted into the warmth, burying myself closer to him.

"You're an icicle. Why didn't you say something earlier?" he asked, keeping his voice low so he didn't miss any important dialogue.

"I didn't want to bother you," I whispered. He hugged me tighter and released me when it was time to switch out the DVDs. We took another bathroom break before getting Half-Blood Prince started, this one wasn't a favorite of mine and I considered it slower paced than the others.

Coming back from the bathroom, I took up my original spot much to Steve's disappointment.

"I'd like to keep cuddling with you please," he told me. I had to admit I liked his arms around me and slid back into him; our bodies meshed together like two puzzle pieces. As the movie progressed, I noticed we were both a little restless, occasionally tracing small patterns on each other's legs.

"Luna?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I...Would it be alright if I kissed you?" Steve asked. I swiveled my head to look up at him, shocked at the question. Say yes. Tell him you want him to kiss you, I thought.

"Yes. You can kiss me. Please, kiss me," I answered. Steve leaned in, his lips brushing lightly over mine. They were soft, a bit salty from the popcorn but also warm like the rest of him. The movie seemed muted while we held the kiss for a few minutes, breaking away. He didn't waste any time after the first kiss to press his mouth back to mine, devouring me, his hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. My hands gripped his shirt tightly, the same urgency for him to do anything he pleased to me. Taking my movements as an invitation, he removed his hand from my hair and gripped my hips; he lifted me onto his lap, those callused hands moving to hold me buy shoulders. We kissed more fervently, our tongues tangling with each other. Soon he moved his heated lips to my neck, finding a spot to suck on, a soft moan escaping my lips. He brushed them over my collarbone, his fingers snaking down and under the hem of my tank top. Steve lifted it off my head, tossing it to the floor. He unclasped my bra next, exposing my breasts to the cold air. My nipples perked up, capturing his attention, the pads of his thumbs brushing lightly over them before he lowered his mouth to latch onto one.

I arched into him, the sensation of his tongue swirling around it, arousing me, wetness pooled at my center, my hips moving against him. The friction I caused as I did this made his length harden only making me want more of him. I slipped my hands under his shirt and lifted it up, pausing his actions to get the fabric off his body. Next, I got off him to  pull down his sweatpants and also removing mine. I straddled him again, dry humping him, my lips attaching to his neck, my hands in his soft hair.

Steve flipped me so I laid flat against the couch, his lips finding mine, his fingers sliding under the flimsy material of my underwear. He stroked my folds, my hips moving to ride his fingers; a low moan erupted when he inserted two of them inside me.

"Oh, god. Steve..." I whimpered, my hands gripping his back, nails digging in his skin. He grunted against the sharp pain, removing his fingers to rip off my underwear, deciding to the material was in the way. I moved my hands down to push down his boxers, freeing him completely. Taking him in my hands, I stroked his cock, groans of pleasure coming from his lips. He got up to remove them completely and used his knee to spread my legs wider, lining up at my entrance.

"I'm going to ask you this once. Are you positive you want to do this?" he asked, the bright blue of his irises darkening with lust.

"Yes. I want to. I'm sure," I replied, pulling his face down to kiss him. He sheathed himself deep inside me and I moaned into his mouth at the sensation. He pumped in and out slowly, our breath quickening, moans and groans echoing around the room. Something must've caught his attention because he paused, a confused look on his face.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Why is everyone crying and lighting the sky with their wands?" he answered. I turned my head to the movie screen and saw we had missed an important death.

"Oh, Dumbledore died. Snape killed him," I replied.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah, it's really sad," I told him, pulling his face back to kiss him.

"Right. Sorry. I'll continue," he said, his thrust hard and rough, something I had hoped I'd experience one day with him. I climaxed first, reaching another one when he climaxed. He pulled out, allowing me to switch to the next movie. I came back to him, his muscular arms pulling me into his lap. Steve secured me with one arm tight around my waist, the other spreading my legs to work me with his fingers until I reached a third orgasm.

"Steve..."

"Sh. You've seen these before. Let me play a little longer. You screaming my name is the sweetest thing I've heard all day," he told me, teasing my swollen clit with his thumb. My legs quaked each time he pushed me over the edge, throughout the first part of the Deathly Hallows. During the last movie, I had my turn playing with him, teasing him through important parts so he could pay attention. I paused the movie before the big battle and got on my knees in front of him, taking his cock in my mouth. He gasped, head thrown back as my tongue explored every inch, bringing him over the edge and swallowing when he exploded into my mouth. I sat beside him, his arms pulling me close to him.

"This has been a wonderful date, don't you agree?" he whispered, my lips curling into a smile.

"I agree. We should do this more often," I told him.

"Next week sound good?"

"That will be perfect," Once the final movie ended, we got dressed and returned to our rooms.

"Spend the night?" he asked. I nodded, entering his room. We climbed in, snuggled close and fell asleep, drifting off to a beautiful dream world.

[legendary-defender-of-fandoms]

Avatar Hunk AU Sneak Peek

So, I wanted to have a few Avatar Hunk stories ready for @hunk-appreciation-week , but I bit off more than I could chew & don’t have any of them done. To compensate, I thought I would share some backstory, Headcanon, story ideas, and other stuff that I want to put in my Avatar Hunk AU.

Part 1 - The Premise

Before I get too far, I need to give credit where credit is due. @avatarpabu97 was the one who originated the idea of Hunk being the new Avatar. I thought it was cute at first, but the more they shared about their Headcanon & the more I thought about it, the more I realized how it was a fantastic idea. It fit with the cycle of the preceding Avatar shows, it gave our favorite sunshine boi a chance to shine, and it could lead to some awesome stories that combine the best of Voltron AND Avatar! @avatarpabu97 had a lot of cool ideas for what kind of Bender everyone would be and who would be where, and our ideas might overlap in some spots. But I had a few ideas of my own for how the Voltron folks would fit in the Avatar universe.

Anyway, the Premise. For my Avatar Hunk AU, it would be set in the world of Avatar about 70-80 years after the events of Legend of Korra. The tech levels would be more advanced than what we have (given their access to Spirit Energy, Bending, etc.), but not quite on, say, Star Trek levels. Korra has died (of old age, or at least peacefully in her home), and the world has started to look for the new Avatar. But given the technological advancements made since Korra’s time, this is seen as more of a side quest by the general public. The White Lotus & the New Air Nation dispatch a few teams, and some ambitious mover producers decide to create game shows to find the new Avatar, but for the rest of the world, life moves on. A new research and development corporation, Galra Tech, starts to make serious advances in harnessing Spirit Energy. The CEO, Zarkon Daibazaal, is a suave businessman who started his company to help people. But having all this power at his disposal leads to corruption, and the chief scientist for his company - his wife, Honerva - has been performing more and more unsettling experiments. They may have plans to invade the Spirit World to reap untold power, conquer the world, yadda yadda yadda. So the Avatar will be needed once more to prevent the exploitation of the Spirit World, another Spirits vs Humans war, and possibly the destruction of the planet? Haven’t planned that far yet.

Part 2 - The Characters

Hunk - Born and raised in Zhao Fu, Tsuyoshi Hershel Seidou Garrett is the only son of Tsuyoshi Garrett, an Earthbender (and a distant descendant of Haru from the original series), and Lisa Seidou, whose family immigrated from the Northern Water Tribe after the Earth Empire dissolved. His nickname was a misnomer, since he was a very small baby, but he quickly grew into it. His parents always knew their child was special (Spirits used to gravitate towards him when he was a baby, he took to Earthbending like a turtle duck to water when he was five, he started Metalbending & helping his father in the family Satomobile shop when he was ten, and he’s always been the sort to end disputes & help those in need), but they wanted Hunk to discover his destiny on his own, let him decide if he should let the world know he is the Avatar. Hunk earns an academic scholarship to the Hiroshi Sato School of Technology & Exploration at Republic City University, where he meets a colorful group of friends & discovers the dangers of Galra Tech’s Spirit Energy experiments. When Hunk starts to realize he’s the Avatar, he’s not sure what to think. I mean, the Avatar is supposed to save the world every other week, isn’t he? And the Avatar’s always been some confident badass who can take out armies by themselves & never backs down from a fight. Hunk wants to help however he can, but he’s not sure he has what it takes to be the Avatar. Until he realizes just how much is on the line, in which case Hunk decides it doesn’t matter if the Spirits made a mistake or if someone else should be the Avatar. He has the ability to help others, and he’ll do whatever he can to save the people he loves.

Gyrgan - Hunk’s animal companion, an Armadillo Lion. Hunk saved him from poachers when he was a cub, and the two have been inseparable ever since. Gyrgan is slow to trust new people, but once he has accepted someone in his life he becomes a giant lap kitty. Threatening those he loves, however, can lead to a death more terrifying than failing an Altean linguistics class. Hunk has taught him proper manners, so he’s not a menace & is permitted to be boarded at RCU. Much like Naga and Appa, he’s huge & can be ridden by Hunk, but typically won’t let others ride.

Lance McClain - A Waterbending mischief maker from Whale Tail Island, Lance and his family move to Zhao Fu when Lance is 12 years old. The two instantly bond over their love of “Nuktuk, Hero of the South” (who, much like Captain America and Wonder Woman, has evolved past his propaganda origins into a pop culture hero with multiple reboots, spinoffs, and Saturday morning cartoons). Lance isn’t quite the scholar Hunk is, but he does manage to get into RCU on a Probending scholarship & is excited to go to his sister Veronica’s alma mater. Until he finds a certain big-eyed mullet boy is on his Probending team & in his classes (not sure how far the Klance stuff is going to go, because I have little writing experience & even less experience with LGBT+ rep. But I want it to keep true to the 30+ years of Klance sexual tension that dates back to GoLion.) Still, when the world starts to fall apart, Lance won’t be left out of the action. (Might also make Lance a descendant of Sokka and Suki, but not sure how to work that into the story)

Katie “Pidge” Holt - The daughter of the head of the Technology department at RCU, Pidge is a child prodigy when it comes to computers. She manages to skip a few grades & get into the Hiroshi Sato School of Technology at the age of 15. Pidge has a pet Owl Cat named Rover who becomes instant besties with Gyrgan. Pidge’s mother was the daughter of Air Acolytes, and Pidge is a skilled Airbender. However, Pidge doesn’t really connect well with others. Until she gets to Computer Algorhithms class and meets Hunk, the first person close to her age who not only understands her techno jargon, but contributes with his own tech knowledge instead of scoffing & calling her a nerd or teacher’s kid. She’s not so sure about his buddy/roommate Lance, but he kind of grows on her & they eventually bond over their love of Space Sword video games. Pidge’s brother Matt was interning at Galra Tech when their experiments in the Spirit World started to spiral out of control, and Pidge will do whatever it takes to bring him home. Even if it means fighting the entirety of the Spirit World.

Keith Kogane - You know how Mako & Bolin had it rough, growing up on the streets after their parents were killed by a Firebender? Now imagine if either one had to do it alone & never knew what happened to their mother because she took off when they were babies. After Keith’s father is killed in a freak industrial accident, the young Firebender falls in with the Blade of Marmora Triad. He’s caught during a raid by Detective Takashi Shirogane and his partner Ulaz, a former Blade, but instead of putting him juvenile detention Shiro decides to give the kid a shot at a new life (maybe he shows mercy to someone the Blades ordered him to kill, or he has impressive Firebending skills, or Shiro’s a sucker for mullets). Keith starts channeling his aggression into Probending, playing against a certain hotshot from Whale Tail Island over the years, and he eventually gets into the Lin Beifong School of Criminal Justice at RCU. He’s less than thrilled to be on the school’s Probending team with Lance, and after Shiro disappears Keith considers dropping out. But when Shiro reappears (backstory below), Keith will put aside his petty rivalry with Lance and help Shiro with taking down Galra Tech once and for all.

Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane - A skilled Metalbender & brilliant detective, Shiro is everything Hunk thinks an Avatar should be. Intuitive, compassionate, a great leader, skilled in a fight - is there any chance Raava can pick this guy to save the world? But one night, Shiro & his partner Ulaz (not sure if they’re just platonic partners or if they’re also partner-partners, also not sure where Adam & Curtis will come in if they exist at all) are sneaking through a Galra Tech laboratory after receiving anonymous tips that Honerva was capturing Spirits to experiment on, an explosion destroys the building. Shiro loses his partner, his arm, and six months of his life (which Honerva May or May not be responsible for). When he finally returns to his Republic City apartment, he’s visibly distraught by the lost time & a vague memory of something horrible coming. Pidge & Hunk work together to make Shiro a prosthetic he controls with Metalbending, at which point Shiro realizes Hunk is the Avatar & warns him about the Spiritpocalypse. Hunk isn’t sure what Shiro expects him to do about it, and Shiro promises to stand by his side in the coming war to defend humanity & avenge Ulaz.

Allura & Coran will also be part of the story, but I haven’t quite figured out their motivations or backstories yet. Allura will be a powerful Healer from the Northern Water Tribe (not sure if she’ll be a Princess or the daughter of Alfor of Altea Industries, a company that was bought out by Galra Tech through shady deals, corporate espionage, and some old friend backstabbing), and Coran will be Varrick’s grandson & heir to Varrick Industries.

Part 3 - The Stories

I’ve only got a couple of plots right now, but more are coming.

1) A New Beginning - this will be a prologue for the series, confirming the death of Avatar Korra & introducing everyone to baby Hunk. We’ll also get to see Tsuyoshi, Lisa, and a bit of their extended family. Expect maximum cuteness. This is the only story I’ve started so far, and I have it all figured out in my head. I just need to transcribe it.

2) The Boy and the Armadillo Lion - this will be how Hunk meets Gyrgan & when he starts to suspect he might be the Avatar. There will be some tough stuff in here regarding poaching, but most of the animal torture will be implied. One of those “this guy needs to be returned to his mother/oh, don’t worry, he’ll be with his mother soon enough” situations. We’ll see “a boy and his future pet” bonding similar to Hiccup & Toothless, lots of fighting & chasing, and Baby’s First Avatar State. Also debating if I want Old Man Meelo to make a cameo. I love the idea of Meelo deciding to be a hermit in the Swamp because the Avatar’s going to need a cooky wise old mentor in the swamp, but it may raise too many questions if he watches Hunk fight off the poachers without doing anything to help. Maybe Hunk will ride through the Swamp on his way to RCU while wrestling with his insecurities about being the Avatar, and after fighting a few Swamp Hallucinations in the form of past Korra baddies Meelo will pop out of nowhere like Rafiki saying something like “You forgot to be the leaf!”

3) A series of vignettes about young Hunk developing his Bending skills. Earthbending sand castles with his dad, figuring out Metalbending while watching him work on his uncle’s racing Satomobile (oh, he has an Uncle Filo who races Satomobiles professionally), thinking he’s using Lavabending to weld a broken pipe (but Tsuyoshi realizes it’s Firebending), healing his friend Lance when he gets scraped up after trying to pull off a Nuktuk dive while their families vacation at Lake Laogai (which, without the Dai Lee hideout, is a fairly popular vacation spot), that sort of thing.

[theonyxpath]

Yes, the Contagion Chronicle Kickstarter starts tomorrow, Tuesday the 26th, at 2pm Eastern US time!

We’re very excited to finally be giving folks a chance to peruse this complete Chronicle that brings together all of the Chronicles of Darkness game lines, as I noted last week.

Today, I have a few words about the Contagion Chronicle from developer and all-around swell guy, Matthew “The Gentleman Gamer” Dawkins, that I’d like to share with you.

Make sure you read this in Matthew’s posh accent familiar from our Onyx Pathcast and videos

Firstly, I want to say I’m so very, very pleased with the content the authors of this book turned in. To work on this book, each author was tasked with reading and learning at least two new CofD game lines before writing even began. I was keen to ensure this book (being all about crossover) handled subjects as complex and deep as those in Mage and Changeling, as examples, with authenticity.

Therefore, the writers had to do the research about the games appearing in their chapters before words could be set down. They all achieved this task, and I’m so proud of them for that.

Contagion Chronicle art by Sam Araya

Secondly, I want to give a special shout out to Meghan Fitzgerald, who came up with the different playable Sworn and False factions in the Contagion Chronicle. I gave her minimal direction on the kinds of groups available in this game, and she turned in top quality work full of innovative ideas

Thirdly, I’m incredibly excited to see your thoughts on our vectors (the protagonists’ powers in this game), history of Contagion, and settings in this book. There’s a healthy mix of system and setting in this book, and we really have a lot of fun with Conditions, Tilts, and Dread Powers, making them even more interesting as character features than before

I’ll be honest: I’m one part thrilled, three parts terrified of this Kickstarter. Having responsibility over a book containing every CofD game line is a heavy weight. I hope you enjoy the heck out of this plague-ridden game though, and look forward to joining you in the Kickstarter comments! 

As with all of latest Kickstarters, backers will be able to download parts of the complete Contagion Chronicle text throughout the course of the KS, so everyone will be able to see how their favorite lines are handled, and how it all holds together, before the end.

While there are a lot of reasons why you at home may want a coherent crossover Chronicle, and we’ve heard you over the years, there’s actually a few reasons that we want to create one, too.

In the specific case I want to let you know about, having a crossover Chronicle set up allows us to do a linked storyline that we’re able to use as a basis for convention-based fun!

The Realm art by Gong Studios

Or, as it was sent over to me just today:

Onyx Path Publishing are running the inaugural Chronicles of Darkness tournament at UK Games Expo 2019!

A host of Storytellers, fielded from their writers, developers, and fans alike, will be running games such as Vampire: The Requiem, Werewolf: The Forsaken, and Changeling: The Lost for several groups of players in the Saturday afternoon session.

At the conclusion of these sessions, players around the table will vote for the player they deemed “most entertaining” and not only does that player win a prize, they go on to the Saturday evening game of The Contagion Chronicle, the new game by Onyx Path in which vampires, werewolves, changelings, mages, and more crossover into a cohesive game.

This game will be run by Onyx Path developer, Matthew Dawkins, and you will play the characters you played in the afternoon sessions. As this game wraps, players will once again vote for each other, with the winner being awarded a copy of an Onyx Path Publishing game. Come join us, as we crossover the Chronicles of Darkness game lines!

That’s just not a type of official tournament we’ve been able to do with Chronicles of Darkness before – although I think our convention demo friends, the Wrecking Crew, may have been able to weld something together by relying on their vast knowledge of the games and their boundless enthusiasm.

So this is something we’re looking forward to seeing happen – no wait, let me say that this is something that I’m looking forward to seeing happen, because not only will Matthew and a great crew of more local Onyx Path creators be there, but Eddy, Matt McElroy, and myself are also flying over to UK Games Expo 2019!

We’ve wanted to attend a few more non US-based conventions, and this year we’re checking out the UK Games Expo. Not only do we have a massively supportive fan community around those parts, but a whole section of our freelance creators who we just don’t get to see face to face with US-based conventions.

And there’s probably some business stuff we could do there, too. I hear.

Book of Oblivion art by Mirko Falloni

Finally, I gotta go wrap up a few things with the set-up of the Contagion Chronicles Kickstarter – did I mention that it starts tomorrow, Tuesday March 26th at 2pm Eastern US time?

And I’m also wrapping up the pre-shipping arrangements for our Scion 2e Kickstarter BackerKit, as those finished books are rolling off the presses and hopefully into cartons for shipping to our fulfillment shipper.

I mean, we don’t want our books rolling off the presses and onto the floor. It’s a lot of books (the single biggest print run we’ve done since Onyx Path started), and we want them nice for the backers and then into stores!

Many game lines equals:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

THIS week on Tuesday March 26th, we will be starting the Contagion Chronicle Kickstarter at 2pm Eastern US time!

Matthew Dawkins has also started running the Contagion Chronicle for some of the members of his Discord, via Google Hangouts! Follow along to get some sneak peeks of the content coming up in the Contagion Chronicle Kickstarter: https://youtu.be/dFMjit-YTwQ

ONYX PATH MEDIA

Illustration by Michael Gaydos

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast is a look at the role research plays in the creation of our games! Eddy, Dixie, and Matthew, engage in their usual verbal hi-jinks while interrupting each other and sharing the complex relationship of the search for facts and the spinning of that info into fantasy (and science-fiction and horror)! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

And Here’s More Media About Our Worlds:

This week in Onyx Path News with the ever-present Gentleman Gamer, Matthew Dawkins! https://youtu.be/AdIYS_eeIvM

If YOU have a podcast, YouTube or Twitch channel, or talk about games on a blog or other website, and want to perform actual plays or make reviews of our games, please reach out to the Gentleman Gamer on the Onyx Path forum. From there we’ll share emails and get you started, so when you do start producing content we’ll be able to promote it on our blog and YouTube channel!

Episode Two of our Contagion Chronicle actual play has been uploaded to the Onyx Path YouTube channel here: https://youtu.be/U5yQteoL4VA

The Beanduck team have started their Exalted chronicle off strong and you can find them here: https://twitch.tv/beanduck/profile

The Occultists Anonymous Mage: The Awakening chronicle continues over here, with Episode One: https://youtu.be/QubrvXohrNs

The Devil’s Luck Gaming crew continue with their superb Scarred Lands campaign: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/400370095?collection=y7LeCRaYgxVNQQ

Just as Travis Legge’s Myths & Matchmakers Scarred Lands continues over here: https://youtu.be/lJiPkawWYco

Red Moon Roleplaying are nearing the conclusion of their They Came from Beneath the Sea! story: https://www.redmoonroleplaying.com/podcast

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here’s an update from the App devs:

Onyx Dice!  We’ve recently released the Changeling: The Lost, Trinity Continuum: Aeon dice, and now the Geist dice.  Next up on our radar is: Demon: The Fallen,  Mummy: The Resurrection,  Kindred of the East, Vampire Dark Ages, and Mummy: The Curse.

We have a serious issue on the Pixel and Motorola phones that prevent the user from using the app correctly.  A fix is coming shortly.  A temporary workaround is to minimize the app without shutting it down, and then restore it.

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can now order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

And available this week! Deluxe Changeling: The Dreaming and Deluxe Beckett’s Jyhad Diary! The additional books we have after the Kickstarter ship-outs are done are now at IPR!

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, it’s an EX 3 EXtravaganza as we present our monthly Exalted 3rd PDF offerings as well as Dragon-Blooded: What Fire Has Wrought, in PDF and physical book PoD versions on DTRPG!

CONVENTIONS

UK Games Expo: May 31st – June 2nd From the US comes Eddy Webb, Matt McElroy, and Rich Thomas to join with Matthew Dawkins, Steffie de Vann, John Burke, Chris Allen, and Klara Herbol! Gen Con: August 1st – August 4th Save Against Fear: Oct 12-14 GameHoleCon: October 31st – November 3rd We’ll also be back at PAX Unplugged later this year.

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Geist2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Heroic Land Dwellers (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Blood Sea Guides for 5e (Scarred Lands)

DR:E Jumpstart (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

DR:E Threat Guide (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Redlines

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Chicago Folio/Dossier (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

TC: Aeon Ready Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Creatures of the World Bestiary (Scion 2nd Edition)

Let The Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Distant Worlds (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Manuscript Approval:

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Editing:

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

V5 Chicago By Night Screen (Vampire: The Masquerade)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

Scion Jumpstart (Scion 2nd Edition)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Post-Editing Development:

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

C20 Novel: Cup of Dreams (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Indexing:

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Ex3 Monthly Stuff  

Chicago By Night

Aeon Aexpansion – Getting reference together.

They Came From Beneath the Sea! – Starting postKS art buy.

EX3 Lunars

Hunter: The Vigil 2

Shunned By the Moon – Final final finals coming in.

Contagion Chronicle – AD’d for KS- starting this week.

Scion Jumpstart

VtR Spilled Blood – Hiring artists.

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Dystopia Rising: Evolution

Book of Oblivion – almost ready for proofing.

Signs of Sorcery

Proofing

M20: Gods and Monsters – PoD proof on the way.

Adventures for Curious Cats – Waiting on maps.

Trinity Core – Page XXing.

Trinity Aeon – Putting in Mind Meld changes.

Geist 2e – 2nd Proof.

C20 Player’s Guide – 2nd Proof

In Media Res – Corrections in.

The Realm – Art is arting, book is proofing.

At Press

Scion Hero – Printing wrapping up this week.

Scion Origin – Printing wrapping up this week.

Scion Dice – At Studio2.

Scion Screen – At Studio2.

Fetch Quest – At Studio2 prepping for shipping.

Ex3 Dragon Blooded – PDF and PoD versions on sale Wednesday on DTRPG. Backer PoD coupons before that and the Deluxe files are going to press.

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: 

Last week, we had two Reasons To Celebrate! First: Spring has sprung! Finally, let’s hope that nature isn’t too pissed off at us to get these seasons changin’! And then, you may not have heard of this, but Paradox announced that a Bloodlines2 computer game is being worked on for V5 and will be out next year. I hear there will be mod support, and the story is based in Seattle. So tip back a very deep red glass of wine and here’s to a new version of that legendary game!