#the screwdriver image is a bit like the other image i did a while ago

[jeremywasriven]

he is so babygirl 

[fumingspice]

Like Never Before (ii)

Part: One

I would literally rather only drink ocean spray cranberry juice for the rest of my life than have kids so if this reads like i was dying while writing it then that’s why xo

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan​

i wish you all the love in the world, but most of all i wish it from myself.

You watched Billie as she glided across the room. Christ, even with her sweatpants and messy hair she was still an absolute vision.

“Honey, for the love of God, can you please let me do something?” You asked, chuckling at how she darted from stirring the eggs to packing an overnight bag to trying to build an Ikea cradle.

“Instruction manuals are for wimps,” were her exact words five hours ago when she took the parts out. “It will be up in a jiffy.”

It was not up in a jiffy.

Billie plated the eggs and moved back to the box load of wooden bits and pieces, sorting through and assembling the bed with her toolkit. You almost admired the image of her handiness, even though you knew fully well that the look of concentration and furrowed brows were masking the fact that she had locked herself into a commitment to build the cot without looking at directions. She was going to drive herself insane if she didn’t get it right. Billie wasn’t necessarily bad at putting things together; you had often let her help you put furniture together before your pregnancy took over most of your day. On the other hand, that certainly didn’t mean she was in any way, shape, or form good at building furniture. You knew that the cradle would look more like a misshapen table.

She was still adorable.

“No, baby. I’m not risking giving you any stress. Christ, one wrong move and it will be a literal baby shower,” she replied, scooting over to kiss your cheek. “Let me do this for you, hm? Then I’ll run us a nice bath before we go to the hospital.”

You grinned at Billie’s nurturing side. “Fine,” you said, caressing her cheek in your hand. “Just make sure you build that right, if our baby falls through the floor on the first night home then I’m not going to be very pleased with you Ms. Howard.”

Your girlfriend frowned. “Do you really want to mess with me while I’m holding a screwdriver?”

Now, that made you chuckle.

“You had to spend fifteen minutes trying to figure out if you were holding it right.”

Billie rolled her eyes at you and stood up. “You know what? I think he’ll enjoy it more if he’s able to sleep with his moms,” she said, pulling you into her chest. You could sense her exhaustion no matter how well she played it off.

You tilted your head to look up at her. Her brown eyes, although excited and lively were worn down a little bit, and a faded purple colour lay beneath. “Baby?” You spoke after a little while, causing her to jolt slightly.

“Hm? Are you okay?”

“How about that bath?” You suggested, Billie smiled warmly and ruffled your hair before pulling you up and walking you to the bathroom.

Thankfully, your bedroom was only down the hall given that you’d finally moved into her house. The door was also a lot wider. Very convenient in this situation.

Billie dipped her hand into the water to mix the bubbles in, gathering some up in her hand and dropping the foam on your head. “You look like the cotton candy man from Scooby Doo,” she giggled, giving you a matching beard. You laughed together as she helped you undress, her hands gliding softly down your skin in admiration. “My God, you’re exquisite.”

She took your arm and helped you into the bath, smiling as you gasped at the warmth. It was almost perfect.

You tugged her arm, trying to signal what you wanted without actually speaking. The warmth of the water and the scent of the bubble bath had given a relaxing aroma. In short, you were too lazy too speak.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she cooed, her fingers twirling in the water. You raised an eyebrow. “You want me to join you?”

You nodded enthusiastically, watching as she stripped off and eased herself into the water behind you. “Jesus, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck,” she muttered. Warm baths were never really her thing. Billie always preferred showers. Both alone and accompanied, but recently she had started opting for baths, enjoying the feeling of you laying back against her stomach. The feeling of protecting you in some way gave her somewhat the same satisfaction as an orgasm.

Billie let out a sigh as the water flowed gently around you both, her hands laying on you waist and stomach and her head rested on your shoulder. She was silent. That was one of the best indicators to tell you she was tired.

Your body jerked, reacting to Braxton Hicks. Billie snapped alert immediately.

"Relax, Billie. I'd tell you if something was wrong," you cooed, your hand reaching her cheek and caressing it softly.

"I don't want to miss anything," she mumbled in response. The blonde kissed your shoulder and neck, each touch sending fiery affection through you. You rolled your head back, letting her kiss further to your cheek and ending it with a deep kiss.

Her lips tasted sweet.

"Baby, you know we can't do anything," you whispered, turning to try and get a better angle at Billie's mouth.

She grinned into you. "We both know you're telling yourself that, Y/N," she replied. Her lips were graceful on you.

Hilarious.

Billie got out of the bath and toweled off, turning to help you out when she ready. There was something about Billie-Dean in this attire. No make-up, her hair slicked back from the water, the way her collar bones gilded her shoulders. You bit your lip as she guided you to bed when you were dressed.

She was out like a light as soon as she was relaxed, her hand never leaving yours. Even if she was too tired to snuggle right into you, there was never a nighy where she wouldn't make some form of contact before falling asleep.

Of course, as you lay awake, something in you was stirring you. Not allowing you to sleep.

Probably the human growing in you, but who knows.

Hours passed as you watched the light from the moon travel from the wall to the floor and disappear.

It happened so quickly that you snapped into an upright position, cursing as you flew.

Billie snapped up you, sensing your hand leave hers. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asked, laying her hand on your shoulder.

"Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit," you panicked. Your breathing short and quick. "Billie, I think my water's broken."

Billie's brown eyes widened. "Oh, Mary Mother of Jesus on a tandem bike," she swore, grabbing her car keys from the bedside table and shoving her feet into her shoes.

She tripped on the rug and staggered over to your side of the bed with a towel, pressing it against your leg. “Okay. Okay, how are we feeling, sweetheart?” She asked, breathless with apprehension.

You shrugged. The shock of the moment had rendered your ability to process thoughts absolutely useless. Your contractions were barely noticeable. More like short pulse-cramps than anything noticeable. Billie’s fingers laced through yours as you explained.

“I’ll phone Dr. McCool and ask what to do,” Billie said, pushing your hair behind your ear and giving your forehead a quick kiss.

She left to get the phone, hearing her apologising for the late call. 

  Billie sat still, ushering soothing words and not complaining despite how hard you were gripping her hand.

Hours felt like days at this stage. The pain was a nightmare. Words couldn’t describe the relief that you felt whenever the midwife told you to stop pushing. You choked a cry in relief and fell into Billie.

“Easy, sweetheart. You did it,” she whispered, holding you tight against her and kissing your head. Her voice was breaking as she spoke. For a moment, everything disappeared as you just melted right into her. A sudden and loud cry broke you from your trance as you snapped back to reality.

Your head perked up as you saw a nurse holding your baby, small and crying.

“Oh, my God,” you said to no one in particular. Tears were falling down your cheeks freely as you tried to process what was actually happening.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get anymore overwhelming, James walked into the room. Billie tensed up immediately, following his gaze to the baby. You could tell that if she weren’t so overcome with joy she would have harden up at his look of happiness.

“Y/N,” he said, walking over and squeezing your hand. “Y/F/N called. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner; I was at a bachelors’ party.”

You felt Billie tense slightly around you. She was sensitive about the fact that James was the baby’s father. There was no issue of jealousy. There was certainly no lack of trust. James had even made it clear that he would respect Billie’s boundaries when it came down to visiting. It was the simple fact that it wasn’t her that boiled her over sometimes.

You smiled at him as the nurse passed the baby to you. “Congratulations!” She spoke. “It’s a healthy baby boy!” Billie’s bets were right. You frowned internally at the idea of not guessing right.

Then you remembered that the only thing she had “won” was getting eaten out for twenty minutes straight.

It was a win-win situation.

Billie gasped as the baby lay against your chest. You turned around to look at her, brown eyes framed with tears locked in awe. “Babygirl, look what you did,” she cooed, kissing your temple. You nuzzled against her, seeking a kiss on the lips. It was a new feeling, the one where you know you’ve hit a long-time achievement. Billie was yours. You were hers. There was even an unexpected bonus.

Another doctor came in. “Hello!” She chirped. She moved in to shake James’ hand. “I presume you are the father?”

James smiled, about to agree. He caught Billie’s pursed lips and avoiding glance. “Somewhat,” he replied. Billie looked right at him for the first time since he’d arrived. “Although, I think that’s more Billie’s station.” He motioned at your girlfriend, whose breathe hitched and chuckled in an exhale of relief.

“Thank you,” you mouthed at him, feeling Billie relax at his words. The  doctor gestured for Billie to come over. Something about signing some document. She held you carefully so as not to disturb you. James took the chair beside your bed.

“He’s almost as good looking as me,” he joked, nudging your elbow. You shook your head at him and chuckled. “He does have your massive head though.”

You glared at him in shock, completely forgetting his sense of humour in the moment. “I swear on my life if this boy turns out like you, I’m putting him in the bin,” you teased. It couldn’t be further from the truth. Little features. Little fingers wrapped around one of yours. He had big dark, brown eyes. He had eyes like Billie.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t turn out devilishly handsome for his own sake then,” he replied.

“Would you like to hold him?”

James paused slightly and glanced at Billie, who was still reading over some papers. He nodded towards her. “Will she be okay with it?”

You nodded, passing him the child gently. His holding skills were terrible. “Jesus, James. Try not to drop him, please.”

James rolled his eyes and corrected himself. “Hey, little guy,” he cooed. Talking to him in little bursts. He got up and your heart dropped, knowing that James was an absolute clutz. Much to your relief, he didn’t drop the baby. You had no idea what he was doing until you saw him walk right over to Billie, who was surprised to see him.

“I think this is yours,” he said.

Of all the things he could have said.

Billie looked from him to the baby and back, taking him in her arms against her chest. Her head lay against the little body as she pursed her lips, trying hard to hold back tears. “Oh, James,” she whispered. She moved close and hugged him with her free arm. “Thank you so much.”

Billie returned to your side, tears now having fallen freely. “He’s so beautiful, Y/N.”

You cried, and snuggled into her. “We need to think of a name,” you said, kissing Billie’s shoulder. 

“What were you thinking, mommy?” Billie asked. Then stopped. “Hm,” she said. “Never thought it would be me calling you that.”

The nurse coughed. “I’m still in here.”

Billie’s face flashed a deep red. “Sorry.”

The nurse ducked out before he had to hear any of Billie’s other inuendos.

“I like the name Tate,” James suggested. Billie shot him a thousand dagger stare.

“No.”

“Come on, it’s a nice-”

“I will kill you and make it look like an accident.”

You nudged Billie with your hand. “James Dean?”

Your ex and your girlfriend glared at you.

“Here’s me thinking I was bad at choosing names.”

Billie pondered for a moment. “I like Lachlan.”

You nodded. “Lachlan.” You liked it. “Welcome to the world, Lachlan.”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

This is a request from @dashhoney25

Erik and his boo, London, make up for lost time. 😈

Warnings: LOTS of Smut, Rough sex, dirty talk. This shit...had me wet AF.

There are four levels of assassins: the novices, dilettantes, journeymen, and lastly masters. The masters, men with military or paramilitary backgrounds who travel to their contracts have few local ties that law enforcement can use. They excel at their craft, and operate quietly and without incident. In theory, the whispered meetings will be held in secret, the job will be executed with precision and grace, and no one will witness the escape. As a class one type assassin, Erik Killmonger was genetically enhanced in order to perform physical tasks much more efficiently than an average peak-human. To keep his skills in balance, Erik Killmonger practices his combat, shooting, assassination, and stealth skills whenever he is not on an assignment. He has over his life become a myth in the underworld due to his skills. Many doubt Erik Killmonger’s existence because of his skills in completing impossible assignments to the point that the FBI and CIA denies his existence…

Erik Killmonger spawned on a beach in Miami from his F470 Combat Rubber Raiding Craft at approximately 9:30 PM. He’s wearing a Roka wetsuit that provides luxurious comfort and no restrictions. The ocean waters emit a bright blue glow as the waves crashed and the tide came in because of tiny organisms called Lingulodinium polyedrum. With him, Erik Killmonger has on a pair of thermal imaging goggles resting on top of his tapered locs. Frontwards, Erik Killmonger spots two armed guards pacing in front of the architect-designed luxury beach home. Erik Killmonger tugged on the goggles, bringing them down over his onyx eyes. Both of them are carrying a GLOCK 19 and wearing crisp black suits and polished black dress shoes. One beefy man and the other looking about his weight and height. Good. 

Erik Killmonger has mastered the art of stealth, being able to terminate multiple enemies in the same area one at a time and sneak up on almost anybody and quietly neutralize them. Erik Killmonger also has an expert level understanding of the use of disguises in order to access unauthorized areas of a location. He needed the disguise of one of the guards to get inside of the home so he could grab what he needed for his Nightcall mission. Keeping low, his body hidden by the Lyme grass that sprouted from the beach, Erik Killmonger spots a pool on the left side. Moving quickly,  He walks inside the pool room and finds a tool box sitting on a surfboard table. Walking back out, he went around to the left side of the house until he saw the garage. Erik Killmonger uses the screwdriver that he picked out of the tool box to short-circuit the signal box, which will allow him to open up the garage door for access. He rounded a corner and parkour rolled, finding a good hiding spot. 

“Man, this is a bust...what exactly are we guarding?” The beefy guard with a Glasgow smile and a clean shaven head says before taking a quick puff from his cigarette. He spoke with an Australian accent from what Erik Killmonger could pick up while hiding behind a cherry-red sports car. 

“All I know is I’m getting paid,” The other guard that sounded like a Florida native says before turning to grab the cigarette from his partner's hand. He runs a hand through his jet black hair that reminded Erik of how greasers used to wear it back in the 50s. Blowing smoke towards the sky, he chokes up a bit. 

“Are these M-Marlboro golds?” He says between coughs and slight wheezes. 

“Yep, the only kind I smoke...looks like you can’t handle it though,” The beefy guard laughs tumultuously. 

“I’m more of a codeine guy,” The greaser says before handing the cigarette back to the other guard, “I prefer my prescription drugs.”

“That shit will have you on the floor, man.” 

Erik checked the time on his G-Shock Casio Camouflage watch. He didn’t bring a lot of tech with him since this job is supposed to be silent, quick, and precise. He couldn’t leave any traces of himself behind. For Erik, these types of jobs were always the hardest for him, that’s why he took another week to survey the area with his Dragon X12 U11 Drone late at night before accepting the Nightcall mission. The two guards kept talking nonsense, wasting a breath with every word when Erik Killmonger could be in the luxury beach home. He only had thirty minutes left. Since taking out both of them will bring too much attention, he decided to take them down one by one. 

“Hey...what was that?” The greaser says mid laugh. He shared a look with his partner before they both went stony-faced. He pulls out his GLOCK 19, checking the magazine for rounds before turning towards the garage, “I’ll be back, you know we aren’t really supposed to leave this post. If Alma asks, tell her I’m checking for a noise.” 

“Gotcha, just hurry back, you know that bitch will have something to say,” the beefy guard reminds him. 

With his gun pointed straight ahead with a two-handed grip and unwavering eyes, the greaser walks slowly past the cherry-red sports car, Erik Killmonger’s body no longer there. Making a left turn, heading towards the pool room, the greaser aims his gun left, right, behind, and in front of him. It was dark and anyone could be hiding behind the many shelves filled with storage bins and other miscellaneous items. Erik watched the greaser walk far enough into the pool room before stepping out from behind a cluttered storage cabinet. 

Erik Killmonger got really close behind the greaser without being detected, grabbing him around his throat by putting him in a choke hold, the crease of his arm between his bulging bicep, tricep, and flexor, squeezing with ease before he went limp in his arms. He dropped him, getting down on his knees to remove his suit and get dressed. Once he was fully clothed and looking like the other armed guards, Erik Killmonger places the GLOCK 19 in the suit jacket pocket before taking a calm yet treacherous stroll out to the other guard. 

_____________________

London’s eyelids fluttered open with a hassle around 3:18 AM, just five hours before she had to be to work. London is a Cyber Security Analyst for CSOC, a five-star rated computer security company in New York City, New York. The high and wide windows within the bedroom of her Penthouse gave her a nighttime view of the Midtown Manhattan skyline and at its feet is the whole geometry of Central Park. The high end silk bedding duvet cover set in black has perfect temperature-regulating properties that would usually help her sleep but with the absence of her man there was little to no chance for her to drift off again. London scoots over towards the edge of the left side of the upholstered platform bed in black to effectively turn on the side lamp. After rubbing her tired eyes, London grabs her phone to see if she had any missed calls or texts from him. Sure enough, the busy man himself sent her a text almost two hours ago. 

Erik: I just boarded my private jet, I’ll see you when you wake up baby girl. I’ll be right next to you. 

London and Erik have been exclusive for a little over a year. They met because Erik was a longtime client of CSOC and London would personally work for him whenever he needed it. She picked up on his flirtatious cues and the way his eyes blazed every time he looked at her. It was her round, sparkling topaz eyes with sweeping lashes; glowing honey skin; high cheekbones every time she smiled; glossy full lips; bouncy blunt cut copper hair; and trim frame with a plump backside. London didn’t expect anything to happen between them since Erik could be a bit emotionally closed off but he had a deep, and in the beginning, unexpressed admiration for London. He very rarely showed a liking towards anyone around him but for some reason, London changed that. Beneath his bad boy persona is a charming, mysterious, and intellectual man. London fell in love with him before she found out what he did for a living. Erik is an Assassin. Killing people as an occupation of course terror struck her in the beginning but she couldn’t leave him alone no matter how much her conscience tried to sway her. 

The beginning of their relationship...let’s just say it was nothing short of wild. Erik used to take London on big trips to places like Dubai, Japan, Colombia, and Saudi Arabia whenever he had work. That changed when Erik almost had a near death experience when trying to escape from a mission. He ended up hospitalized in a secret facility for trained killers like himself somewhere in Arizona. London made up for his lack of being there by working more hours which led her to a position as a Lead Cyber Security Analyst. Her pockets swelled even though she didn’t necessarily need the money since Erik could afford to take care of both of them. London grew tired from working long and hard hours and whenever she would come home to find Erik there she wouldn’t feel up to doing anything sexually. He was always on the move and she was always at work back in NYC. A strain between them both began to form. 

Erik didn’t fuss much about it, knowing how demanding his job is but whenever London felt a certain way about their situation he would let her vent to him, rubbing his baby girl’s back, kissing her gently, whispering reassurance to her; that things are going to get better; that she should leave her job and stay home. As easy as all of that sounded, London couldn’t bring herself to leave all that she worked so hard for behind her. To top it all off, London is a strong, independent woman who has done almost everything herself before Erik walked into her life. Yeah, he’s her daddy, but sitting at home waiting on his FaceTime call, his text, or to even simply hear his voice wasn’t enough. Also, she had to keep in mind that the future isn’t promised for the both of them. If things didn’t work out, London would be on her own again. The lack of sexual attention was indeed driving London crazy. Taking baths alone turned into London using her waterproof rabbit vibe or the faucet to make her cum. Other times she would mount her suction cup dildo that is an exact mold of Erik’s dick on the edge of the tub to ride. If she couldn’t have daddy’s long, thick, veiny black dick, then the toy would just have to make up for that when he’s not around. 

London snatched the silk duvet from her body before walking to the master bathroom. With the lights on, London turned to stare at her reflection through the backlit vanity mirror. London gently touched one of the taps twice, the warm water flowing out and into the single copper basin of the bathroom sink. Cupping her hands, the white iced out diamond Cuban link 10k yellow gold bracelet on her right wrist twinkling beneath the lights, London watches with drowsy eyes as the water fills in her hands. A few times, London rinses her face with the warm water to calm herself down so she can go back to sleep peacefully without tossing and turning. Lifting her face from the sink basin, eyes closed because of the water dripping from her face, London blindly grabs a folded black cotton facial towel with gold trimming. She dabs her face, taking in the clean and soft fresh linen smell. 

“Why are you up so late?”

London blanched, when Erik startled her with his large hands grabbing at her waist from the back. To this day, London still wasn’t used to Erik’s stealth. His feet are like feathers hitting the floor. London is wearing a black Sheer Marabou Romper that has a cinched waist, fluffy feathery trim, and thin straps. One thing Erik loves to see her in any chance he got was lingerie or nothing at all. Looking up into the vanity, London took in Erik’s appearance. He’s wearing his usual all black from head to toe; black cable knit long sleeve top that clung to his hulking frame and black drop crotch destroyed jeans. The layered diamond tennis chains around his neck matched the bracelet on London’s wrist and the Rolex on his left wrist with its diamond bezel didn’t go unnoticed either. 

“I couldn’t sleep, it’s been that way for the past few weeks,” London rubs his strong hands with thick fingers around her waist, “How was this job?”

“Unnecessary, but I have another two million in my bank account so I can’t complain,” Erik’s thick lips circled London’s exposed neck, “You can’t sleep because of me, huh?”

“I’m used to you being next to me, yes, but I know you’re so busy,” London turns to face Erik. His hair from the dim lights of the bathroom looked almost raven, dreads messily resting against his forehead. London’s hands reach out to stroke his tapered waistline. She could feel all of the tiny raised scars beneath her manicured nails the more she lightly scratched him. 

“I’ve been getting calls for jobs left and right. Nothing else matters when I’m with you...I miss my baby,” Erik’s hand makes its way to London’s copper hair, slicking back the pressed out strands from her face before placing some behind her ears, “Haven’t been giving you the attention you need, and then you’re wearing my favorite too, probably waiting for me to come home and properly take it off of you.” 

“Properly taking my clothes off for you is ripping them to pieces,” London giggles before lifting to her tiptoes to kiss Erik’s thick, moist lips, “Why don’t you take a shower so we can lay in bed, I want you to wrap your arms around me,” London rubs Erik’s biceps. 

“Aight, ma, let me take a quick shower and I’ll meet you in bed,” Erik traced the pout of London’s bottom lip before giving her another kiss with a little bit of tongue. 

London walked back to the bedroom, pulling the silk duvet back and climbing back into bed. She propped herself up on her side to watch Erik undress. The standing shower system they have was London’s favorite. It has a square shower head with LED, remote-controlled LED, a detachable hand shower if you wanted to use it, and a thermostatic touch panel mixer with a digital display. The Rainfall mode made London experience the pleasure of a warm summer rain in her own bathroom. Her body was so tired but she couldn’t stop staring at him as he stripped out of each piece of clothing. Erik’s sinewy physique is so defined and well-built, so much so that you can even tell through his clothing. The raised marks on his torso, arms, and back caused her pierced nipples to grow taut as if she could feel his body rubbing against hers. 

Stepping into the shower, Erik puts it on Rainfall mode before standing directly under the square shower head. As the water sprouted from the shower head it trickled over Erik’s body making lazy patterns. He grabs for his favorite peppermint and eucalyptus body wash with a soap sponge to clean himself. He must have known that London was watching him because his ridiculously big dick was swaying back and forth with each movement of his body. London hasn’t had that big black dick in her for at least a few weeks now. When she first saw that fat dick in person she was sure she wouldn’t be able to take it. All that dick you’ll end up with no walls, tangled intestines, and half a stomach. She paid close attention to the way Erik grabbed his dick at the base, bringing it up against his lower abdomen to wash his balls. That heavy nut sack on him had her drooling. It had to have been almost 5 AM now. She was going to be extremely tired at work. 

________________

London arrived to work thirty minutes late with her daily homemade green smoothie in hand. She’s wearing a charcoal grey pencil skirt with a silk black top and black So Kate pumps on her feet. Her copper hair is swept to the side and bouncing with each step she took. When London woke up Erik wasn’t on his side of the bed. After freshening up and getting dressed, London went looking for him and found him in his weapons room unloading a few rounds to test out the new artillery. She didn’t want to disturb him too much so she gave him a quick kiss before leaving him alone until she made it back home. London walks past the rounded glass top receptionist desk before pushing open the commercial double glass doors to her work area. 

Having her own office means peace and quiet now. London gave some of her coworkers tight lipped smiles before entering her work space, allowing the frosted glass door to close behind her. 888 Seventh Avenue provided magnificent views of Central Park and the Manhattan skyline. London takes a seat at her modern black wood executive desk with a Mac desktop computer and other office supplies. She has two meetings to attend and one will be starting within the next hour. London checks her work email for any important information from clients while sipping her green smoothie. Time trickled by slowly and London hadn’t noticed that Erik had called her a few times. After receiving a reminder about the meeting via company email, London checks her phone. Erik sent her a voice message which was rather unlike him. London listens despite her confusion. 

“Hey what’s up, baby, how are you doing? I didn’t get a chance to really talk to you this morning since the new artillery came in, but...I’m sitting here just thinking about you and baby... I just want to see your face. Can you send me a picture or a video of yourself? I miss that pretty face….” he paused for a second, “I’m not gonna lie, ma...I’m feeling some type of way because I’m sitting here just thinking about you...thinking about tasting you...thinking about the other night when you watched me take a shower before you fell asleep…” Erik exhaled, “I miss that wet pussy, baby...I know that shit was wet last night...like goddamn...I know you’re panties had to be soaked, shit.” 

London was seated on the edge of her seat while her free hand gripped the handle of her seat. She couldn’t believe he was saying this to her in her voicemail. She instantly needed her man. 

“I’m saying...I’m not complaining at all because I love that wet ass pussy on my face and in my fucking mouth...grinding that pussy across my lips and my beard...Still tasting your pussy juices on my mustache...I wanna suck on that clit...that shit make you so goddamn wet, girl...spread them fat pussy lips and slowly guide my tongue up and down...up and down...fuck,” Erik hisses, “I miss that pussy gripping my fingers...you like that shit don’t you? Daddy’s fingers in your tight little pussy? Goddamn...fuck that I want you to take a picture of how wet your pussy is right now...yeah, I know that’s a little naughty but I know you’re my nasty little girl so you’ll do that shit anyway, right? I’ll spank that ass if you don’t send me a fucking pic, girl...I’ll spank that ass just how I do when I’m busting that pussy open from the back…”

London closed her eyes, praying to god that she would go through the rest of her day after this voicemail. She’s definitely wet alright; fucking soaked. If London pulled her panties to the side right now it would probably reveal a sticky, slimy mess. He had to be beating that fat ass dick right now. 

“Man...now you got me wanting to fuck the shit out of you, London...put my hands on your hips and start off nice and slow in that pussy...shit, we both know that pussy good...puss will have me busting a fat nut so fast...hell nah, girl…” Erik’s voice lowered over the phone to a whisper that ran down London’s spine and straight to her clit, “I just want you to know how good that pussy tastes and feels baby...pussy so fucking good...I love when you say don’t stop daddy, you know daddy ain’t stopping for nothing. Daddy got something long and thick for your ass…and I want that fat pussy in my mouth…”

The voicemail had ended two minutes ago but London was so frozen with shock that she couldn’t move enough to close her mouth. She finally removed the phone from her ear before checking to see that no one was watching. They couldn’t anyway because of the frosted glass doors but London wanted to be absolutely certain. Scooting back in her black Sterling Leather Executive Chair, London gathers the bottom of her skirt, bringing it up and around her waist. London brings her left hand down between her legs to pull the crotch of her panties to the side. She scoots to the edge of the chair so her pussy is sitting nice a plump for a perfect picture. Grabbing her cell phone, London activates her camera from her lock screen, turning it to selfie mode before aiming it as best as she could to achieve a good angle so he can see everything. London takes a few pictures, one with her lips sitting nice and fat and the other with her lips spread so that he can see how hard and poked out her clit is and how much of her creamy wetness spilled from her pussy. 

“There you go daddy,” London says before sending it off to Erik. She wasn’t happy at all that she had to leave for her meeting. London brings all the necessary material for the meeting before exiting her office for the conference room. When she entered the conference room, everyone was already in their usual spots so London quickly found hers near the front right across from the manager of CSOC, Linda Yeager. 

“Goodmorning, London, do you have the contingency plans packet for the meeting today?” 

London’s eyes swept over Linda’s appearance. Linda has her long strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail and a navy blue women’s suit on with a white blouse underneath. Her veneer smile is wide and similar to that of a horse and her thin lips are painted red to bring out the heavy makeup look she went for today. 

“Yes,” London opens her portfolio, handing Linda the packet that she created yesterday, “I made sure that everyone received a new one before today.” 

“Excellent,” Linda stands from her seat before making her way to a podium situated in front of the conference room, “Okay...Good Morning everyone! I know today is going to be yet another stress-filled one but we all know this is a necessity,” Linda pulls out a laser pointer, aiming it at the presentation behind her, “Today we will be discussing contingency plans that the company will implement in case of a successful attack. Since cyber attackers are constantly using new tools and strategies, cyber security analysts, such as yourself, need to stay informed about the weapons out there to mount a strong defense.”

Linda went on and on for about an hour before everyone was dismissed to assist with clients to keep intruders, attackers or hackers out of networks in order to protect digital files and information systems against unauthorized access. London made it back to her office with a bottle of Fiji water, taking her seat again. Before she started any type of work, London grabs her phone from her desk drawer because she knew Erik had a response for what she sent him. Sure enough, he left her yet another voicemail. London prepared herself for a lustful ear full. 

“Baby...fuck...I just wanna eat that pussy up...I might have to come see you for lunch today...Goddamn...mmmhhh...you know eating pussy is my shit, right? Ima tear that creamy pussy up, girl...make love to that pussy with my fucking tongue...put that whole pussy in my mouth...mmmh…damn, I wish I could eat that...Look at the lips on this pretty motherfucker.. gawd dayum! I’d slurp the hell out of them lips...call me back...call me the fuck back, London.” 

London calls Erik back with no hesitation. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat almost with the amount of anticipation running through her veins. 

“London...can daddy come eat that suckable pussy for lunch?” That was his greeting as soon as he picked up. 

“In my car? baby, you know it’s an open lot...people will see,” London says with a sultry voice. 

“London... I’m tryna eat that pussy… you gon’ make me wait?” 

“I can try to get home sooner...that way, you can eat my pussy all day if you want to.” London’s tongue dragged across her upper lip, “it’s been a while, I know you miss this pretty pussy.” 

“Yeah?” Erik says, “All day baby?”

“Uh-huh, all day...any way you like…”

“That’s a mouth full of pussy ima need a lot of time to eat that shit up,” Erik chuckles, “I guess that will be dinner then, swallow all that pussy juice and slurp up that clit, yeah?” 

London ran her pink and white ombré acrylics through her copper hair. She could feel her clit poking against the crotch of her panties and her pierced nipples stiffen behind her silk top. She wanted Erik to suck on her nipples so damn bad that she thrust her chest forward like his wet mouth was wide open and waiting. London is a B cup so she could easily go without a bra. She wished she would have now because her nipples are rubbing against the silk of her shirt. They are so damn hard. 

“Ima be face first in that ass as soon as you walk through the door, London.” 

“I know, baby,” London spoke softly while using a single finger to circle her taut left pierced nipple. 

“Yes, sit that fat pussy on my face.” 

“Daddy, I gotta go,” London’s voice didn’t match her words. 

“Aight...just Gon’ leave me drooling all over myself until you get home, huh?” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

London knew Erik had to be fiending since they haven’t had sex in over two weeks. He would have another job lined up soon and from his words and the harsh, uneven sound of his voice, that told London everything she needed to know. Erik needed her. Part of it made London feel guilty because there were times when he would simply watch her masturbate in the tub. He would sit on the toilet after coming home from a job, his body just as tired. London would be in the jacuzzi whirlpool tub, her waterproof rabbit vibe going to town on her clit beneath the water. She didn’t mind him watching her, he didn’t even complain about her pleasuring herself instead of letting him do it. No, Erik would simply sit there with this sexy, devilish grin on his face, his eyes all low and seductive while they peered through the soapy water to take a look at how she worked that vibrator over her clit. 

That’s it baby..make that pussy cum

Mhm, good girl...you making that fat kitty cum, baby?

Then, there were the times he walked in on her riding her dildo in the shower with it mounted to the wall. These times she hadn’t expected him to be home so soon. His sudden appearance would make her feel timid to finish but Erik would insist that she continue because he really wanted to watch her. He would stand outside of the shower, his eyes focused on the way the dildo that’s an exact mold of his dick would slide in and out of her creamy pussy. The look on her face is so beautiful while she fucked herself. She just looks so helpless and useless with each stroke. Water mixed with her creamy mess would drizzle down her inner thighs with each stroke and it made his dick chub up real fast but he didn’t intervene. He knew he wasn’t around often to take care of his baby girl, she deserved to play in her pussy. 

You’re opening that pussy up beautifully, baby

Definitely A Greedy Pussy Indeed. I Love It. 

His words made her cum in an instant. 

________________________

[ Greetings Killmonger…..]

Erik heard the alert from his personal work computer all the way from the bathroom. He walked into his master bedroom with water still trickling from his body and a towel wrapped around his hips. His office was just in the other room where his laptop was located. He walked up to the laptop, tapped a series of keys and his Oracle message popped up in green letters with a black background that reminded him of the Matrix. 

“Oracle,” Erik spoke lazily before taking a seat at his desk, “another mission?”

 [Yes...do you accept the mission? ]

“...yes,” He says while stroking his goatee, “Lay out the details.” 

[ Russia’s ambassador to Turkey named Andrey G. Karlov is supposed to be attending an art exhibit two weeks from now on Monday in Ankara, the capital of Turkey. Your assignment is to get to him and kill him before he reaches the art exhibit. We can’t have any witnesses. This job will require special gear and technology. We will provide a black Ducati sports bike and you have a suite booked at the JW Marriott Hotel Ankara. If the mission is successful, 3.5 million will be wired to your offshore bank account in Belize. ]

“Sounds legit...send me all the information I need on Karlov along with my hotel and I’ll be ready.” 

[ Excellent. Happy killing Mr. Killmonger….]

His laptop screen blacked out which meant that whatever information that was previously mentioned would be deleted without a trace. Erik has two weeks to prepare for his next job. He trained all day to keep up with his skills. It’s never a good look to take too much relaxation time. Standing from his desk chair, Erik makes his way into his master bedroom to rub his body down with cocoa butter body oil and slip on a pair of lounge pants. The body oil softened and conditioned his body perfectly. He slipped on a pair of black joggers and walked to the bathroom to finish his facial routine. Erik believes in taking care of himself, in a balanced diet, and in a rigorous exercise routine. Erik applies an herb mint facial masque which he leaves on for ten minutes while he prepares the rest of his facial routine. After rinsing the mask, Erik applies a moisturizer, some under-eye balm to help alleviate the dark circles forming, then finally, he sets it with a protective lotion. 

Back within his bedroom, staring out at Midtown through one of his wide, ceiling to floor windows, Erik realizes that London couldn’t make it home earlier like she promised. After their call ended, Erik decided to train so he could clear his head. He did his usual routine that involves jackknife crunches, crucifix push-ups, single leg burpees, jumping lunges, and other workouts. Then, Erik trained a little in combat; your fighting skills can always be improved. To end it, Erik let off a few rounds from his new Smith & Wesson pistol with a crimson trace sight. Erik walks down the modern stairs that ended within a corridor. He made his way towards the kitchen, turning on the lights and opening the fridge. Grabbing a box of leftover egg foo young, he places it within the microwave for 2 minutes. The front entrance to the penthouse opened and from the surveillance cameras in the kitchen Erik can see London removing her pumps before walking barefoot further into the penthouse. 

“Hey, baby,” her silvery voice soothed his ears, “I’m sorry I didn’t make it home earlier, today was yet another busy day...what are you heating in the microwave?” 

“It’s okay, I figured you were tied up,” Erik opens the microwave, grabbing the hot takeout container filled with shrimp egg foo young smothered in extra gravy, “Some Chinese I never ate yesterday, you wanna share?” 

“Yes,” London places her black Louis Vuitton tote bag on the galaxy storm granite countertop of their kitchen island before taking a seat on one of the stools. She finger combed her blunt cut bouncy copper hair away from her face while Erik grabbed two forks for them and after that two water bottles. He sat across from her before passing her a fork. London hissed from how hot the food was against her tongue before blowing it rapidly.

“Mmm...I haven’t had egg foo young in so long,” she licked her fork before going for more. 

“How was work?” Erik asks between chewing his food.

“It was alright, I’m exhausted,” London rubs her neck with her free hand, “How was your day?”

“Productive, did some training most of the time. I got an alert from my Oracle for a new job.” 

“...oh, yeah?” London swallows her food, hoping that her eyes didn’t read disappointment, “I figured it would be happening soon. When is it?”

“Within the next two weeks. It’s a big job so I gotta do some research over the next few days…” Erik reaches across the counter to rub London’s chin, “Hey...it’s two weeks from now. You got me for two weeks before I go away.”

London played with a piece of egg with her fork, “I know...I just get really lonely when you’re not with me, daddy.” 

“You sure about that? Still using the dildo I bought you?” Erik gave London a lopsided grin. 

“I am...but there’s nothing like daddy’s dick,” London laughs, before yawning, “I didn’t get any sleep last night.” 

“If you weren’t watching me take a shower and rub down with my body oil you would have,” Erik teased. 

“It’s your damn fault, you’re so sexy,” London strokes a single vein on Erik’s left hand with her pink and white ombré acrylic nail. 

“You know what I want, right?” Erik drags his tongue across the corner of the inside of his mouth to catch some food, causing a single dimple to form in his other cheek.

“Yes, let me shower first and I’m all yours,” London takes one final piece of egg foo young before grabbing her tote bag, walking around the kitchen counter to kiss Erik’s lips before walking away. Erik finished off the food before trashing it. He drank his water before tossing the bottle in recycling. Upstairs now, London is already out of the shower, her naked body seen walking into her walk-in closet to find something to sleep in. Erik brushes his teeth before joining her in the walk-in closet. London is wearing a sheer babydoll with berry-red trimming. 

“I got you something,” Erik says while walking up behind her. He picked it up in Miami for her. Reaching inside one of London’s many drawers, he pulls out a Cartier box. Erik presses his crotch against London’s curvy backside while leaning over her shoulder. London watches him open the box to reveal a stunning 18k white gold necklace with 264 brilliant cut diamonds. London’s topaz eyes locked with Erik’s onyx ones. They twinkled and it made him smile. He grabs the necklace, opening the clasp before placing it around her neck. London touches it with her delicate fingers. Erik’s thick lips lightly kiss the baby-soft skin of her cheek. 

“You look good in diamonds, girl,” He whispers to her before kissing along her neck, “icy just like your daddy.” 

“Thank you, daddy,” London fought for oxygen when Erik’s hands began to lift the bottom of her baby doll up. 

“Come sit on daddy’s face,” His nose was in her hair smelling the strands. Erik strolled back to the bedroom, laying back on the bed. London follows him, crawling onto the bed between his wide legs before climbing onto his lap to straddle him reverse cowgirl. Erik lifts the bottom of the baby doll completely up and around her waist to reveal her dangling fat pussy from behind. He takes his thumb to rub her protruding clit and labia that sat stunningly between her fat pussy lips. Lifting his thumb away, a slimy string of her fluids connected with it. Erik sucks it off before grabbing London by her thighs, roughly scooting her back towards him so that her pussy hovered over his lips. 

“Mmm, I miss this fat pussy,” Erik brings his lips to her pussy. He starts off by placing soft, lingering kisses that caused her to let out little gasps. Erik continues kissing her outer lips until her hips start oscillating back and forth. 

“Calm down, girl, daddy got you,” Erik spreads her pussy lips to reveal her cotton candy pink center, “had me wishing I could eat this pussy all day and I finally got it in my face,” Erik’s tongue poked out and he delivered stiff licks around her protruding clit. Erik could see her pussy contract with each lick and a single stream of slippery lubrication drip down to her labia. Erik dragged his thick bottom lip up to catch the fluid before sucking her labia into his mouth. His eyes closed one at a time after he got a taste of what he hadn’t tasted in two weeks. That sweet puss. 

“Yes, daddy,” London’s toes curled, “Fuck, baybeee.” 

Her drippy pussy was evidence that it missed his tongue among other things. 

“Sweet, tasty, pussy...sit on my face, London...THAT'S it…yeah, baby,” he groans, “Yummy pussy,” He sounded out longingly with a deep, alluring voice.

Erik loved spreading London’s lips with his tongue and tasting the warm sweet juices from her pussy. He loves when she puts her pussy on his face and rides his tongue. The loud smacking sounds from his slurping and licking mixed with London’s quickening breaths were sounds unheard of in two weeks. The way she was dripping in his mouth she was ready for his big black dick but all Erik wanted to do was eat. Both holes honestly. Erik wets a finger with his spit before sticking it in London’s tight, virgin booty hole. He was gonna get in that tight ass one day but for now he simply pushed his thick finger inside. It was so tight that it sucked his finger in. 

“Oooh, shit,” Erik says while watching his finger stroke London’s booty hole, “That ass is tighter than a motherfucker...you gon’ let me get in that ass?”

“I don’t know, daddy...fuck,” London looks back at Erik while he finger fucked her booty hole, “Damn, daddy, oh, my God…”

“I said, you gon’ let me get in that ass with this fat fucking dick?”

“Daddy it’s too big-

“If you’re used to this you’ll be used to my dick in no time, baby...taking that shit beautifully,” He wraps his lips around her clit and starts sucking. 

“Oh my God, daddy, that’s my spot,” London started speaking in tongues, “Yes, baby, suck on my pussy…”

Erik brings a finger from his other hand to slip inside of London’s pussy. The soft, fleshy ridges of her walls massaged his finger. He found her G spot and started massaging it with the pad of his finger. Erik started loudly sucking on London’s pussy and licking it sloppy with a lot of spit in between. Each time he licked London could feel his tongue print still lingering. 

“I’m gonna cum,” London says when she could feel her entire body spasm, “Daddy I’m cumming.” 

Erik continued sucking her clit, fingering her creamy pussy, and fingering her tight ass. He was working the hell out of her pussy that London almost collapsed. 

“You’re making my pussy cum,” Her voice grew louder, “Oh my God!!!!!” London started throwing her ass back, fucking Erik’s fingers before she started leaking all over his face. Her milky white orgasm covered his facial hair and lips. 

“Yes, daddy,” London became overstimulated and lifted her body from Erik’s. She fell back on the bed beside him, stroking her hair from her sweaty face. 

“I’m not finished...you said I could have it all I want, right?” Erik spreads London’s thighs before leaning over her body with a hankering desire. His tongue wiggles all over her pussy with exhilarating speed that strokes her clit in the right spot. London’s hips began to lift off of the bed but Erik held her in place. After licking it a few more times he went right back to slurping her up but this time he did it with fervor. Each suck came with a deep grunt. He was enjoying the hell out of her pussy on his mouth. He had London screaming his name. Erik was telling her through every suck and lick that this was his pussy and that she better cum in his fucking mouth. 

“Unnffttt!!!!!” London moaned out repeatedly. She yanked Erik’s tapered dreads, “eat this fucking pussy,” London rolled her hips, driving her pussy in Erik’s mouth, “yesssss ima cum in your mouth so fucking hard keep doing that.” 

Erik started sucking on London’s clit while swiveling his head back and forth. He was loving that pussy. 

“Suck on my pussy...suck on my pussy...sucking on my pussy…” London’s mouth unhinges, “Oh, yes, right there, ooooohh, DON'T stop...Yep...right there, daddy, uh-huh...uh-huh...uh-huh...FUCK YES...you’re making your pussy cum...FUCK!”

London fisted Erik’s hair as she climaxed in his mouth. 

___________________

The next day, London awoke to the sound of her alarm at 7:00 AM. She turned it off, sitting up in bed. Blinking her tired eyes, London rubbed her inner thighs together, feeling her pussy juices gathering in a puddle. She’s still wet from the repeated head she received from Erik last night. He ate her pussy three times before she fell asleep next to him then he woke her up at 2:00 AM with her clit in his mouth again. Spreading her thighs, London could see that her clit is still stiff and her inner folds are still engorged with arousal. The bed shifted behind her and London turned to find Erik stretching his built arms above his head. He blinked at her with low eyes before giving her a lazy smile.

“Good morning, baby,” Erik spoke before yawning, “You’re leaving me again, Princess?” 

“Duty calls,” London stood from the bed giving Erik a tantalizing view of her slim-thick frame. She leaned over the bed to kiss Erik nice and gentle, “I’ll miss you.” 

“Stay home,” Erik looked up at her through his long lashes, “We got some making up to do, girl...I ain’t have that puss in two weeks...we got some making up to do.” 

“I know, I know,” London was pulled down into the bed with Erik, “Daddy-

“Hush, Princess,” Erik’s hand made its way between her thighs, “That fat puss is still wet.” 

“Umph,” London shielded her face in Erik’s neck. 

“Nah, look at what I’m doing...London,” Erik yanked her hair, forcing her to focus on him, “LOOK.” 

Her eyes widened at his barbaric tone. The rough edge made her shiver. London’s eyes watched as Erik used two fingers to rub her clit side to side. 

“Mhm, I got that puss,” He bites her jaw, causing her to squeal, “Damn, that clit stiff...you going to work and leaving daddy home to take care of this fat ass dick by himself? Hmm?”

“Erik,” She could feel herself leaking all over his hand, “Daddy stop...I gotta go to work...fuck,” Erik pushed three fingers inside of her, “Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.” 

“Princess, I plan on hitting this pussy from every angle imaginable,” Erik whispered to her before giving her sloppy kisses on her neck, “cum on my fingers, girl, you know you want to.” 

“Umph, Yes-

“I see you girl…FUCK,” Erik aggressively bites his bottom lip while he watched London cream his fingers, “Thats a good pussy, baby...such a good girl,” Erik’s fingers slip out to smack her pussy. London jumps from his lap while squeezing her thighs tight. 

“I’m gonna go take a sh-shower,” London lets out an unsteady breath while watching Erik suck her juices from his fingers. 

“Go ahead, Princess, I’ll see you in there.” 

London grabs her silk bonnet and shower cap before walking into the master bathroom. With her out of the room now, Erik grabs his cell to call London’s job. On the third ring, the receptionist picks up. 

“Thanks for calling, CSOC, this is Taylor Bianchi, how can I direct you?” 

“Hi, can I speak to Linda Yeager, please? This is Erik Stevens, a long time client of CSOC.” His eyes fall on London lathering up her soap sponge with her body wash. 

“Okay, I’ll transfer your call.”

The line clicks over and there is a brief pause before Erik could hear the phone being picked up and Linda clearing her throat. 

“Erik! How are you? Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, everything is fine...I’m calling about London...listen, I’m requesting that she has a few days off. She’s exhausted and London needs to rest her mind and her body. With her being Lead Analyst now it’s taken a heavy load on her.”

“I understand,” Linda sighs, “I wish she would have told me she needs time off, it’s never a problem. Of course, London can take however long she needs.” 

“Thank you, Linda, I’ll let her know her vacation starts today.” Erik hangs up his cell before tossing the silk duvet back. He takes off his black joggers before walking naked to the bathroom. London has just finished washing herself a second time and now she is rinsing off. Erik opens the glass shower door, stepping inside the steamy shower, “Finished without me?” 

“Sorry, baby, I have to go to work, I’m already gonna be late.”

“Nah,” Erik closes the shower door, “I called your job, you won’t be going to work for the rest of the week.” 

“Huh?” London says with a perplexed expression.

“I requested for you to be off. Linda said it was okay.” 

“Babe…” London blushes, “You did that for me?”

“You know I got you, Princess. We can use all this time to fuck as much as we want...and I’m gonna fuck you good,” Erik approaches her with a gait that had her week in the knees.

“Okay...it’s been a minute…” London was backed into a corner, “All I’ve known is my vibe and dildo…”

“Aww, I know,” Erik takes his thumbs to twirl her pierced nipples, “That’s why I gotta remind you how daddy does it...dig that pussy out.” 

Erik snatches London’s bonnet and shower cap from her head before picking her up, walking with her until their bodies are beneath the squared shower head. Erik’s long dick began to thicken up beneath her pussy. He stuck his tongue down her throat, kissing her roughly while gripping her ass. London braced herself by wrapping her arms around Erik’s shoulders. From her lips, Erik’s kisses were on her neck now right along with his teeth leaving marks. He was so hungry for her, not even a grizzly bear could stop him from getting all of London. 

“You want daddy to fuck you in this shower?” Erik sucked on her bottom lip. 

“Please, daddy, can you fuck me in the shower?”

“You know how to ask daddy for what you want...good girl,” Erik used a little force to push London’s back against the shower wall. She sucked in a sharp breath, before raising a single brow at him. He was being rough with her. 

“Being rough with me, daddy?” She questioned sweetly because she knew that drove him crazy, “It’s okay…I know you need this pussy.” 

“You’re fucking right,” Erik growled before his mouth made its way to her erect pierced nipples, “This pussy hasn’t stained my dick in two fucking weeks...that’s way too long for me, girl...you know daddy gotta have this pussy any fucking chance I get,” With one hand, Erik places it around London’s neck, “those eyes are so sexy, baby...you better look at me just like that when I fuck this pussy,” Erik grinds his dick up against London’s pussy, “and when I cum on that pretty face.” 

“Anything, daddy, just fuck me,” London tried grabbing his dick but Erik’s hand around her neck grew tighter.

“Is that how you ask for this fucking dick? Try again,” Erik spoke through clenched teeth. 

“Can daddy fuck my little pussy, please?” London asked with a pout of her lips. 

Erik smiles devilishly, “Yeah...daddy can fuck that little Princess pussy.” 

With short, heated gasps, London watched Erik grab hold of his dick with the hand that was around her neck, rubbing it back and forth over her clit. It didn’t matter how much water covered their bodies from head to toe, London’s pussy is still drenched with her slickness. Erik strokes his dick against London’s entrance before pushing in just the tip, purposely stopping so he could watch the helpless expression on her face. 

“Yeah,” he spoke smugly, “And that’s just the tip, baby,” Erik pushes in some more with just his hips, “Damn...clenching up already? You know how this dick can be,” Erik continues without stopping this time before licking away a single tear from her face, “you know daddy gets in there, ma...this shit ain’t new.” 

“Damn,” London hisses, “You got my pussy opened up, daddy.”

“And you got my dick tickling your cervix,” Erik pulls all the way to his wide tip before pushing back inside deeply, “Like how I pull it all the way out? Huh?”

London could only nod her head.

“I asked you a fucking question, Princess,” Erik does it again. His thick, long, curved dick pushed back inside. London’s pussy is so warm and wet that it made his ass cheeks clench. 

“What the fuck did I say?” He barked out.

“If I like the way you pull it all the way out,” London’s lower lip trembled between moans. 

“Pull what out?” He asked her with narrow eyes.

“This big ass dick,” London’s head extended back, “This shit is hitting the bottom of my pussy.”

“Mhm,” Erik angles London’s hips with both of his strong hands, “That’s what the fuck I’m talking about,” He picks up speed, London’s hips loudly smacking against his, “This what you kept from me?” 

“Yes!!” London’s eyes never left his, “God...you’re stretching me.”

Their tongues flicked wildly before Erik pressed his forehead against hers. He was still watching her, his hands moving her hips in a circle while he stroked her pussy long dick style. 

“Unfff, if you keep doing that- daddy, shit,” London pouts, “Daddy it’s deep.” 

Erik wasn’t listening, he was too busy moving her hips in a multitude of angels just so his dick could reach every single part of her pussy from her walls, to her cervix, to her G spot, and then her A spot. Warm, liquid leaked from her pussy and it made Erik smile handsomely at her. 

“I got this fat pussy squirting,” Erik starts banging London’s pussy out harder, “Ima make you do that shit again...UH-HUH…nut on this fucking dick.” 

With a silent scream and her feet nudging against Erik’s back from his forceful thrusts, London gave him exactly what he wanted. Erik’s dick left her pussy and he put her down. London has to brace the wall because her knees are wobbling.

“Get down on your knees and clean this daddy dick off.” 

London was on her knees, grabbing Erik’s balls with one hand while wrapping her plump lips around the tip of his dick with just the power of her jaw muscles. 

“You better suck it good too or I’ma tear that throat up,” Erik bites his bottom lip down at London. He runs his fingers through her loose curly strands, “feeding my pretty baby some dick...see? You needed that, right?”

“Mhm,” London hums whole slurping on Erik’s dick. She had to work extra hard since his dick hadn’t been in her mouth for two weeks. She worked her jaws overtime and her head moved in a circular motion. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Erik licks his lips before leaning over, spitting on his dick. He watched London lick and suck his saliva into her mouth. 

“You sucking this dick, girl, mm,” Erik shakes his head, “You want me to unload down your throat?”

London responded with puppy dog eyes and a harder suck. Erik thrusts his hips forward suddenly, causing London to gag. She removed her mouth from his dick to take a breath but Erik grabs a fist full of her wet hair, making her look at him, “Did I tell you to stop?! You know this dick is long, girl,” Erik slapped his dick against her cheek, “Open your fucking mouth, Princess.”

London opens wide and Erik didn’t waste anytime getting back inside. His head went back while he uses London’s mouth like a pussy and started fucking her throat. London’s nails clawed his thighs. 

“Told you I had something for little ass girls like you who keep running from dick...don’t stop eating that dick up, Princess.” 

“Mmm...mmmhmm,” London blinked away her growing tears, striving to finish until his cum was down her throat. 

“I need it nice and sloppy like this. Make a mess like the good girl you are. You look so sexy when you get nasty,” Erik says between London’s sucking, “Yes baby...mmmh...fuuuckkk...make it nasty, baby, that’s it,” Erik’s face fixed into a mug, “Ughhhhhh fuuuckkkkkk, don’t ever stop sucking baby girl, make daddy bust a nut...ughhhhhhh…yes, empty me...mmmm...here it comes baby... getting the job done just drain your daddy and you never have to worry about anything...FUCK YES,” Erik’s entire body spasmed out of control. He gripped the back of London’s head before erupting deep down her throat. London welcomes her gift graciously with a flickering tongue. It was a lot of cum, definitely overdue. 

“Good girl,” Erik says between ragged gasps. 

___________________

After their shower, London and Erik had a nice breakfast that Erik prepared. Veggie omelette, turkey sausage, and a side of shrimp with cheesy grits. London did a bit of yoga, something she hadn’t done in a long while. Erik cleaned up before joining London in their personal gym for a morning workout. Erik couldn’t keep his eyes off of London stretching her body. After taking yet another long shower, London and Erik lounged around well into the early afternoon in complete nudity. Erik was supposed to start his research for his new mission but that wasn’t going to happen with the way London’s nude body was calling him. They were sitting in the living room, laid back on their luxury leather sectional sofa, music playing from the installed surround sound system. 

London couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s dick sitting heavy between his toned thighs. Unable to control the urge to slurp his thick pipe into her mouth, London leans over Erik’s lap, grabbing his dick in her hand, slapping it against her tongue, and then all in one motion, his dick was back in her mouth. London arched her back, her ass sitting high in the air now for Erik to reach over and slap whenever he felt like it. She massaged his nut sack while swallowing her man’s fat dick. He loved to see her with a mouth full of his meat. All he could do was simply shake his head at her. Before he needed to remind her, London’s topaz eyes connected with his and that’s when his dick swelled to cum inspiring proportions in her throat and unloaded a fat nut that she worked for. 

“There you go,” Erik studied the way his balls tightened, “Got my nuts tight, girl, get up here.” 

London climbed into Erik’s lap, squatting over him while bracing herself on the back of the couch. 

“Nah, fuck that, grab daddy’s dick and put it in that sweet little pussy so I can fuck the shit out of you.” 

London reaches between her legs, grabs Erik’s dick, and lines it up with her snug entrance. She gyrated her hips over him before lowering herself onto his third leg. 

“Mmmm,” She locked eyes with him, “Big-ass-dick.” She tells him, even though he already knew that. 

“Tight-ass-pussy,” Erik’s thick lips practically swallowed London's, the more he devoured her with his kisses. His saliva laden tongue battled for dominance in her mouth the more he kissed. London was like putty in his arms. London didn’t see it coming when Erik’s hips elevated from the couch to fuck her. His balls slapped her on the ass with each heavy, gut-filling stroke. Her thighs shook and her toes were beginning to sweat from the hot leather. 

“Oh, shit,” Her lower abdomen clenched, “It’s deep…”

“Move your hands,” Erik ordered when London’s hands came down to press against his thighs to try and slow him up, “Move your fucking hands, London.”

“Daddy, nooooo,” She whimpered.

“Shut that shit up,” He wrenched her hands away from his thighs, “grip my shoulders...that’s it, girl,” Erik went back to fucking the shit out of her wet pussy, “I got this pussy gushing all over me and you want me to stop? You better take this big black dick...all I wanna hear is you moaning and saying how much you love daddy’s big dick, nothing else,” Erik tore his eyes away for a second so he could watch her cream his dick, “I’m beating this pussy up...shut that crying up, London.” 

“Yessssss,” London chokes up, “Daddy, pleaseeee-

“Please? Please what?” Erik wrapped his arms around London’s body, holding her in place so he could work her pussy some more, “Please what? Huh?!”

“YES!!” London buried her face in the crook of Erik’s neck. She could feel a warm sensation overpower her body and then she froze. Erik’s dick was covered in her cream all the way down to his balls. 

“Just making a mess on me, huh?” Erik sucks on London’s neck, “Daddy likes that shit...come here,” Erik lifts her from his lap. He stood up with his dick dripping cum, turning London over and arching her back. 

“Mm-mm, keep that arch,” Erik strokes his messy pipe, “Push them shoulders down...good girl,” Erik slaps London’s clit a few times before he enters her with a long exhale, “Good fucking pussy...pass me my phone.” Erik barked out. London grabs Erik’s phone from her left before passing it to Erik, “You remember how we used to do it?” Erik opens up his camera, aiming it at London’s ass, “Bring that ass up, London, I’m not gonna tell you again.”

London was holding off on purpose because she knew how deep he can get in this position. 

“How is daddy supposed to beat this pussy the fuck up if you don’t listen?” Erik pumped London’s pussy full of his fat dick with just his hips while holding the phone steady so he can capture it perfectly, “Wait until you see this shit, ummmmm, baby...widen your legs London,” Erik pushes himself in all the way, causing London to cry out, “It’s okay, Princess, here,” He did it again, “beat this pussy up…look at me.”

London looks back at Erik through her messy hair. She wished she hadn’t. Just one look at him had her squirting on his dick.

“You make that shit look so damn good...I’m spreading that pussy, baby?” 

“Uh-huh-

“What else is daddy doing?” Erik smiles.

“Making my pussy feel good,” London smiles back before her face frowned with ecstasy. 

“That’s the face I like to see...you got my dick pulsating in this pussy...got this good dick up in you all you can do is cum...I like that...too big, baby?” 

She couldn’t respond but HELL YEAH. His dick damn near pushed her stomach out of her mouth in this position. 

“Daddy…” London said so low. 

“What?!” Erik asked while hammering London’s pussy. He angled the phone so that the length of his defined body could be in view while he stroked her. London’s cheeks clapped loudly and her moans damn near blew out the speakers of his phone, “this is mine and ima remind you any and everywhere,” London gripped his dick with her walls, “yeahhhhh, make daddy bust a nut!!!”

“Fuck me!!” London grabbed the back of the couch, “beat it up, daddy!!”

“Fuck,” Erik had to drop the phone. He was about to cream all in London’s sweet, tight pussy, “Look at this arch, girl, damn...you want me to really get in this puss.” 

Erik’s mouth unhinges and his eyelids flutter. He gave London two deep, long, and filling thrusts before cumming deep inside of her. Erik slapped her ass hard a few times before pulling his dick from her pussy. 

“Come suck this big dick up,” Erik said between heavy breathing. London was on her knees in a flash, grabbing Erik’s dick up in her hand before licking their mess off. Erik twirled London’s pierced nipple with one hand. He was thickening up again and all he wanted to do was bury himself back inside her tight, creamy pussy some more. 

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty-deactivated20200 @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark  @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara @honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta @seyven89 @lahuttor @janelledarling @shewritestheblues @fanfangal @kreolemami @thoughtsoftheantagonist @luvwitoutlimit1 @mygirlrenee @hippiesandpeacesigns @alittlejd @jaysaidhi @thewaysheis--awkward @walkrightuptothesun @shawnstacksss @theesotericqueen @mareethequeen @browngirldominion @ceeverse @therealmrsrhodes @sensitivelegend @teheeboo @yomiloo @msreshel-blog @bbygirrll05 @fahi0nanart @afteracouplepuffss @shaelyn102 @yaminax-kuss-a @lackbbaby @amyhennessyhouse @thattruckinwitch @dameshaemonique  @glittermakesmesmile @justgetitoverwith0  @notavintagecliche @pariahcolored @cydneyrenee4 @ajjiiaaahhhh @naeelyniecee @ambthegamer @efonteno @mikesteel20 @wisenerdcreator @draggingstxns @eevolsidog @xoxomyaah @asweet-serendipity​ @therealmrsmbjordan @ajspencer1892​ @queengodiva619 @niqui87​ @quietpoeticheart​ @itsjustyazz​ @dasia21​ @woah-express​ @bbgiirrll​ @backandbetter2​ @megabriahall @forbeautyandlife​ @queenflaws​ @cecereads209​ @queenbetter​ @yomiloo​ @daddys-baby-girl-t​ @lovinthemelanin​ @ladymac82​ @ambitionwood @t3mporaa​ @toniilaney​ @iv0rysoap​ @sinfully-dope​ @lovehatecritique​ @chocolategirl605​ @naysianaee​ @nyleveeee​ @erlebnissebliss​ @melinaasap1​ @woahthatshitfat​ @that-chick212​ @scarypumkin23​ @sambuckyslayallday​ @vikki240401​ @kuaua98 @enigmadivine​ @gingerylimonte​ @counterfeit-recherche​ @unholyxcumbucket​ @xdezaraex​ @missgigglesmoultrie​ @imrootingforeveryoneblack @dashhoney25​

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 7

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 7 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 7/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

[A/N - Been a while, huh! Not sure who’s still here, but I’m trying to not pressure myself to work on this, because I do have other interests and ideas.]

“The Daleks will be victorious. The rebels will be exterminated.”

“Colonel? What's happening out there?” Journey asked, but they got no answer, only Rusty yelling, “Exterminate.”

“Dalek fleet. Communications open.”

“Doctor, what happened?” Clara asked.

“Do you see?” the Doctor said.

“Do I see what?”

“Daleks don't turn good. It was just radiation affecting its brain chemistry, nothing more than that. No miracle.”

“Let me get this straight. We had a good Dalek, and we made it bad again? That's all we've done?” Journey asked.

“There was never a good Dalek. There was a broken Dalek and we repaired it.” “You were supposed to be helping us.”

“I gave it a shot. It didn't work out. It was a Dalek, what did you expect?”

“No more talking. You are done! Okay, new objective. We are taking this Dalek down.”

“With us inside? Are you insane!” Elise yelled.

“Exterminate. Exterminate.”

The Doctor turned to look at Clara. “What's that look for?”

“It's the look you get when I'm about to slap you.” She slapped him hard, surprising both the Doctor and Elise.

“Ow. Clara!”

“Are we going to die in here? I mean, there's a little bit of you that's pleased. The Daleks are evil after all. Everything makes sense. The Doctor is right!”

“Daleks are evil. Irreversibly so. That's what we just learned.”

“No, Doctor, that is not what we just learned!”

“Exterminate. Exterminate.”

Clara looked at Elise, who nodded, encouraging the small brunette to go on. If anyone could calm down this situation, it was Clara, not two hotheaded Scottish Timelords.

“We need to place these charges for maximum effect. I'm going to scan the rest of the architecture for weaknesses,” Journey told her fellow soldier.

“One question,” Clara said.

“No time.”

“Why did we come here today? What was the point?” Clara turned to the Doctor. “You. You thought there was a good Dalek. What difference would one good Dalek make?”

“All the difference in the universe, but it's impossible,” the Doctor said.

“Is that a fact? Is that really what we've learned today? Think about it. Is that what we learned?”

“Journey, what the hell's happening? That thing's set the Daleks on us. And it's locked us out of our defenses. Journey, you're the Aristotle's only hope. I need you to destroy that Dalek,” Journey’s uncle said.

“The rebels will be exterminated.”

“Whatever it takes.”

“Understood, Uncle,” Journey told him.

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Clara Oswald, do I really not pay you?” the Doctor asked.

Clara smiled. “You couldn't afford me.”

The Doctor ran over to Journey. “Whatever you're going to do, don't do it. This Dalek must not be destroyed. We can do better.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“No, I'm inside a Dalek. I'm standing where I've never been. We cannot waste this chance. It won't come again.”

“What chance? I have my orders.”

“Soldiers take orders.”

“And I'm a soldier.”

“A Dalek is a better soldier than you will ever be. You can't win this way.”

Journey held up a grenade, ready to pull the pin, but then put it down. “Argh! So what do we do?”

“Something better.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“The Dalek isn't just some angry blob in a Dalekanium tank,” the Doctor said as he pulled the women over the ledge, “If it was, the radiation would have turned it into a raging lunatic.”

“It is a raging lunatic, it's a Dalek,” Journey commented.

Elise had to admit she had a point.

“But for a moment, it wasn't. The radiation allowed it to expand its consciousness, to consider things beyond its natural terms of reference. It became good. That means a good Dalek is possible. That's what we learned today. Am I right, teach?”

“Top of the class!”

“But now it's back to how it was,” Journey said.

“But what it saw, what it felt, is still there.”

“Yeah, I'm not really seeing that.”

“Not here. There.” He pointed up.

A lightbulb went off in Elise’s mind. “Oh my god.” She locked eyes with the Doctor and he nodded. “That’s brilliant! If it works that is…”

“Someone explain to me what’s going on. You want us to go to the cortex vault?” Journey asked, not following the father and daughter’s silent conversation.

“The evil engineering?” Clara asked.

“Every memory recorded. Some suppressed, but all still intact. We need to show the Dalek that star being born again. Recreate that moment. You need to get up there, find that moment and reawaken it.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Good idea.”

“How?”

“Haven't the foggiest. Do a clever thing. And then once you've done it, the Dalek will be suggestible to new ideas. It will be open again. And I will show it something that will change its mind forever.”

“What?” Journey asked him.

“Not a clue.”

“This is crazy. There is no way that we can get back up there in time.”

“Yes, there is,” the female soldier said. She cocked her harpoon rifle.

“No, Gretchen. It'll bring the antibodies back down on us.”

Gretchen turned to Clara. “Tell me the truth. Is he mad, or is he right? I've come this far. Probably going to die anyway. Wouldn't mind something to do for the rest of my life. Is he mad, or is he right?”

“Hand on my heart? Most days he's both,” Clara told her.

Gretchen turned to the Doctor. “One question, then. Is this worth it?”

“If I can turn one Dalek, I can turn them all. I can save the future.”

“Gretchen Alison Carlisle. Do something good and name it after me.”

“I will do something amazing, I promise.”

“Damn well better.” Gretchen primed her harpoon.

“No, Gretchen,” Journey cried.

Gretchen fired two wires up to the cranial ledge. “Go.”

Antibodies started to approach.

“They're coming. They're coming,” Clara said.

Journey fastened a pulley onto the wire. “Grab hold of the rope. Don't look down,” she told Clara.

“Good luck,” Gretchen said.

Journey and Clara flew upward.

Gretchen started shooting the antibodies as the Doctor grabbed Elise by the arm, pulling her away.

“You shouldn’t have to watch that,” he said softly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They wandered through the Dalek until they came to the compartment that held the Dalek itself.

“Well, Rusty, here we are. Eye to eye,” the Doctor said.

“You cannot save the humans. They will be exterminated. I shall join the Dalek units in the final attack.”

“I saved your life, Rusty. Now I'm going to go one better. I'm going to save your soul.”

“Daleks do not have souls.”

“Oh, no? Imagine if you did. What then, Rusty? What would happen then?”

There were flashes and images of dying soldier appeared on the screens around them.

“Your memories. I'm about to give some back to you.”

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and start to cut through the tubing covering the Dalek’s neurons. “See, all those years ago, when I began…I was just running. I called myself the Doctor, but it was just a name. And then I went to Skaro. And then I met you lot and I understood who I was. The Doctor was not the Daleks.”

Elise had never heard this story before, even after traveling with him for over a thousand years at this point.

The Doctor pulled out some of the neurons.

More memories flashed on the screen. Daleks flying in space and attacking a ship.

“Oh, look. It's your memories again. It's like somebody's mucking about up there. Memories, all those memories. Do you remember the star you saw being born?”

“I…I remember.”

The memory of the star being born appeared on the screen.

“You saw the truth, Rusty. Remember how you felt. You saw a star being born. The endless rebirth of the universe.”

“No.”

“And you realized the truth about the Daleks…”

“Truth? What is the truth?”

“Let me show you the truth. I've opened your mind and now I'm coming in.” The Doctor spliced two pieces of a neuron together. He cried out in pain.

“Doctor!” Elise yelled. She wanted to grab him and stop him, but they’d been traveling together for so long that she had to have faith that he knew what he was doing.

“I'm part of you. My mind is in your mind,” the Doctor told him.

“I see your mind, Doctor. I see your universe.”

“And isn't the universe beautiful?”

“I see beauty.”

“Yes, that's good. That is good. Hold on to that.”

“I see endless, divine perfection.”

“Make it a part of you. Remember how you feel right now. Put it inside you and live by it.”

“I see into your soul, Doctor. I see beauty. I see divinity. I see hatred.”

“Hatred?”

“I see your hatred of the Daleks and it is good.”

“No, no, no. You must see more than that, there must be more than that.”

“Death to the Daleks. Death to the Daleks. Death to the Daleks.”

“No, there must be more than that. There must be more than that. Please.”

“Daleks are evil. Daleks must be exterminated. Daleks are evil. Daleks must be exterminated. Exterminate. The Daleks are exterminated.”

“Of course they are. That's what you do, isn't it?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“What about you, Rusty?” Clara asked after they returned to being normal-sized.

“I must go with them,” Rusty said.

“Of course you must. You've unfinished work, haven't you?” the Doctor asked.

“Victory is yours, but it does not please you.”

“You looked inside me and you saw hatred. That's not victory. Victory would have been a good Dalek.”

“I am not a good Dalek. You are a good Dalek.” Rusty turned to leave, then looked back at the Doctor.

“Till the next time,” the Doctor said. He turned away and made his way back to the TARDIS.

“Is he leaving? Isn't he going to say goodbye?” Journey asked.

“I think that was it. Yep, that was it. Sorry, got to run,” Clara said. She grabbed Elise’s hand and they followed after him.

As they reached the TARDIS, Journey came up behind them. “Doctor. Take me with you.”

“I think you're probably nice. Underneath it all, I think you're kind and you're definitely brave. I just wish you hadn't been a soldier,” the Doctor told her.

They went inside the TARDIS and took off.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Clara came back into the control room in a new set of clothes. “How do I look?”

“Sort of short and round-ish, but with a good personality, which is the main thing,” the Doctor told her.

“I meant my clothes. I just changed.”

“Oh, good for you, still making an effort.”

The TARDIS landed.

“Okay, right, you're back in your cupboard, thirty seconds after you left.”

“When will I see you again?”

“Oh. Soon, I expect. Or later. One of those.”

Clara walked over to the door and opened it. “I don't know.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You asked me if you're a good man and the answer is, I don't know. But I think you try to be and I think that's probably the point.”

“I think you're probably an amazing teacher.”

“I think I'd better be.” Before she left, Elise walked over to her.

“Hey Clara?”

“Yeah, Elise?”

“…have fun on your date. He must be pretty special.”

Clara smiled. “He is.” Clara left and the Doctor put the TARDIS in flight.

“I’m sorry,” Elise said.

“For what?”

“That things didn’t turn out the way you planned.”

The Doctor shrugged. “What’s new?”

Elise looked at him.

“What is it?”

“I guess…part of me thought it might have worked. That there was a good Dalek. I thought that…that maybe the Time War would finally be over.”

The Doctor flipped a few switches. “What about the 70’s? You always loved that decade.”

Elise frowned. “I…I used to. Not anymore.”

“Okay, well where do you want to go?”

“I think I’ll just go read something the library.”

The Doctor tried not to let the disappoint show. Maybe she wasn’t comfortable going somewhere with him alone yet. He could respect that. Maybe she needed more time to adjust to the change. “Oh, of course. We’ve had quite day.”

Elise turned to go to her room, a tear escaping her eye. She could appreciate that he was trying, but it was like this body forgot everything his previous body knew about her.

[fuckyeahscienceparty]

Recovery

Medic's not exactly having a great day. Engie tries to negate that.

-

platonic followup to smth i wrote a lil bit ago B') but i don't have to read the other thing to get the jist.

[also on ao3!]

-

Medic bumbled into the kitchen that afternoon, still upset at himself over BLU's narrow loss earlier that day that had almost definitely been exacerbated by his absence in the time it took the cart to go from the second to fourth checkpoint.

While the rest of his team were only mildly troubled by their failings, insisting that without a doubt they'd get RED good next time, he was honestly more than prepared to throw himself a pity party for 1, having already abandoned his uniform for an old tshirt and pajama shorts even though it was currently only about 5 pm.

As Medic rummaged through the cupboard to find their rather banged up kettle, BLU's Engineer whistled his way in, opening the fridge to grab the half empty pitchers of sweet tea and lemonade he'd prepared earlier that week.

"Callin' it in early tonight?" Engie chuckled as Medic shuffled past him to open the breadbox and see what teas (rather than baked goods) they still had, Engie himself reaching for one of the recently dried cups lingering on the counter from breakfast that morning.

"Mm," was all that came from Medic in reply, Engie giving him a slightly concerned glance as he flipped through the different tea bags they had available.

When he'd decided that lavender flavored earl grey would do, he went over to the sink to fill the kettle with enough water for a decently sized cup, neither of them speaking as Medic put it on to boil and Engie poured equal parts lemonade and tea into his glass.

After adding a few ice cubes and a straw to fill it to the top, Engie cleared his throat to get Medic's attention, the good doctor himself seemingly displeased by the fact that his staring contest with the stove had been interrupted.

"You doin' alright, Doc?" He hedged, Medic merely letting out a curt "fine" before going back to staring at his barely warmed up water. Engie pouted slightly before taking a sip of his Arnold Palmer.

"You sure? I didn't see you for a while during battle earlier, what happened?" He asked, leaning against the table behind him. Medic blinked.

"You... you noticed?"

"Shuck, course I did. Hard not to notice that your buddy's gone missing when he's normally playing lord and savior for your gaggle of teammates who have a tendency to face death with a devil may care attitude," He chuckled, Medic's cold expression thawed slightly by the fact that Engie had called him his... buddy.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He sighed, going into another cupboard to look for a mug once he'd heard a faint bubbling sound.

"No, really, what happened? I got a little worried for you," Engie insisted gingerly. Medic paused, almost taken aback by his sincerity.

"Well if you must know, it was purely out of my own idiocy," He said as he pulled out a mug with a rather cute image of a dove on it.

"Uhuh?..."

"...I was trying to get a health kit for myself. I insisted that Soldier go on without me because I'm more than capable of catching up and I rather moronically assumed all the REDs were already ahead of us and that if there was anyone there, I could handle myself just fine. To what should not have been my surprise, their Heavy had been lagging behind and shot me a few times before leaving me to bleed out and wait for respawn."

"Jeez Doc, I'm sorry," Engie winced, Medic scoffing in response.

"Don't be. It was completely my fault. If I hadn't been such a dumbass and either sucked up my injuries or asked Soldier to come with me, I wouldn't have gotten myself killed. I still can't believe I'd been so stupid."

"Hey now, don't talk about yourself like that," Engie frowned as Medic began to avoid his gaze. "You got caught off guard. It happens to the best of us."

"But that's the thing- I'm supposed to be the best of us. I'm not supposed to get caught off guard. Like you said, I'm the 'lord and savior' of this team, if I can't even keep myself alive then what kind of useless Medic am I?" Medic carped bitterly, internally grimacing when he realized he was really leaning into the whole pity party ordeal now.

He frankly expected Engie to get annoyed with him, to leave him to wallow in his own bitchiness and self pity as he took the kettle off of the stove when it began to whistle and poured all the water into his cup. He wouldn't have blamed him if he was honest, he was getting pretty annoyed with himself right now.

...But he didn't. He stayed put, his voice going into that gentle tone that made Medic feel guilty he would even think such a thing of his best friend.

"You're not useless. You're human. And humans make mistakes, Feathers, whether we like it or not. Best thing you can do is try and learn from 'em and move on. Best any of us can do, really."

Engie paused to give Medic time to absorb what he'd said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm gonna head to the workshop, I gotta get my sentry repaired and prepped for tomorrow. If you wanna drop by and chat or just sit with me while I work, my doors are always open. But if not, that's fine too. Whatever makes you feel better. And you're always welcome to come 'round my dispenser if you ever need a pick me up during battle, ok?" Engie said as he gently pulled Medic in for a hug.

Medic felt his chest tighten in a way he wasn't exactly used to. Kind as his teammates were once you got to know them, it wasn't often he'd been offered palpable generosity like this. He hugged back, silently relishing the feeling of Engie's arms being wrapped around him.

When he eventually (and reluctantly) pulled away, he took a breath, his next words coming out in more of a whisper than he intended them to.

"...Ok. Thank you, Herr Engineer. I will most likely come by."

"Any time, hun. I'll put up a chair for you, you come by whenever you want," Engie said, giving his shoulder a final pat before grabbing his drink and heading out of the kitchen to leave Medic alone with his tea and his thoughts.

After washing the kettle and mixing in a bit of milk and sugar into his cup, he found himself standing in front of the workshop door, peering in to see its usual inhabitant singing softly under his breath as he opened one of the compartments and poured out all the collected empty bullet casings into a larger bucket of various brass scraps so he could use them for something else later.

As promised, there was an empty chair next to him, that tightening feeling coming back to Medic's chest as he made his way in.

Engie looked up at him as he did so, giving him a warm smile as he reached for his screwdriver so he could pop open the top and put in new rounds.

Medic, meanwhile sat down in his spot, leaning over momentarily to bonk his head against Engie's before taking a sip out of his still scalding cup.

Engie chuckled, moving his own chair a little closer to Medic's so that he could bump his shoulder before continuing his handiwork, the two of them enjoying each others' company in relative silence in a way that best friends often did.

After a while, Engie started singing to himself again, tapping his tools and fingers against his sentry in place of beats or actual instruments. Watching him be so content and enthusiastic about his work, Medic couldn't help but relax, continuing to sip at his tea and occasionally humming back at him, much to Engie's delight.

Eventually, when Engie had moved on to other weapon maintenance, they started talking and joking around with each other instead, Engie smiling whenever he managed to make Medic laugh and Medic resting his chin on Engie's shoulder every time he leaned over to get a better look at his progress.

And sure, the two of them would have to part eventually and Medic would inevitably have another bad day (or several) on the battlefield, but in that moment where it was just they two of them and Medic's self doubts temporarily healed, they were all that mattered to each other.

And what a wonderful thing that was.

[poptod]

hi! can i request an ahk x reader fic where reader was an air force pilot for some time and they and ahk exchange war stories? not to glorify war or anything but i’m interested to see how that would play out. thanks!

notes: hey! sorry that this might be a  bit late, i was spending the day with my friend and had to write the bulk of it before 11.30 and i woke up at 9. sorry I kind of strayed from the prompt, but i hope you like it anyway

WC: 1.5k

+

He hadn't ever considered himself a survivor of a war. Fighting and death came so natural to him, and to many of the people from his time – simply put, it was as unavoidable as death, and would live for just as long. That being said, your logic did make sense; he was still a participant in a war, no matter how small it was.

"Did you stay to fight?" You asked in your soft, low voice. Every now and then he wondered if that's what you sounded like when you were alive.

"I was fifteen at the time, so no," he said with a chuckle, earning naught but a bittersweet smile. "In later years I did, though. My brother and I had rule over our own separate battalions. When it came time for us to make our move against the Nubians, I couldn't do it. I tried to hurt someone, but it's hard when you see their face, and you think of their mothers."

"War has changed a lot since then," you hummed, nodding thoughtlessly along to his story. "I didn't see a single person's face."

"How?"

"Remember Amelia?"

"Oh, yes," he said, recalling her flying contraption.

"You drop bombs from there that explode with fire, and depending on the size, a single bomb could kill thousands," you said as your voice once more turned soft, memories playing out behind your eyes.

It was true that Ahk had trouble picturing modern warfare. The methods that lasted eons were still imprinted in his mind, and as hard as he tried to imagine it, he still had difficulty. Planes that crowded the sky. Tanks that rolled over hills and mountains. Deep trenches and gunpowder. Chemicals and bombs. You thought to show him a movie – something more modern, not from your time, where the special effects would be better and the picture clearer. The first time you suggested it he turned you down, but perhaps he'd changed his mind.

"I could show you one of those movies," you said, watching his expression carefully for any sign of distaste. He showed nothing – blank eyes staring at the floor as he pondered on the state of the world, and the state of you.

"I'd rather spend my time talking to you, honestly," he finally said, a deep sigh following his words, "but does it ever bother you? How many people you may have.. hurt..?"

"I try not to think about it," you mumbled as you stared down at your fidgeting fingers.

"I don't blame you."

You never talked much. Not about yourself, or others, or the time period you came from. While you weren't a reanimated corpse like Ahk, you retained all the memories from a life you lived a couple decades ago. In life your name was (Y/N), but in the museums, most people referred to you as Screwdriver.

Your presence in the museum of natural history was not one that was actually supposed to happen. Actually, you belonged in the aviators museum, where planes hung on hooks, and wax statues and cardboard cutouts waved empty hellos to museum-goers. Due to some error not on your behalf, you were kept in the archives far below the earth's surface. Ahk had found you there one day, looking for silence amongst the many boxes, and not realizing that carrying the tablet with him everywhere was causing everything to come to life, and thus eliminating his hopes of quiet solitude. You were the most human there, so he sat down and talked to you.

For the first couple weeks no one knew you existed, but Ahk soon introduced you to the others. Despite your reluctance you agreed, offering firm handshakes and curt introductions to those gathered, and giving nothing more than your name. He didn't really expect you to talk to many others, and you didn't – your relations with other living people remained quarantined to him, to his word, and to his stories.

The two of you talked every night but for some reason, he knew very little about you. Just that you flew a plane – that thoughts of your sins were avoided, and that you were protective of free ideas and people. What a wonderful friend you were; always listening well, always there for him. Still, he did wish you would open up a little more, but he didn't hold his breath for it. You were still quite solitary, and he doubted he'd ever learn what exactly you did during the Vietnam war.

On a late winter evening he tucked his tablet underneath his arm, unlatching the door to the basement and wandering down the steps as music pounded from above. As he moved slowly along, boxes of exhibits and statues began to come to life, a few of them beating fists against the wood keeping them in place. He paid them little mind, if any at all, and continued his search for you, in the farthest corner of the first basement floor.

Rarely did he ever come here. Most of the time he took a few steps away from the staircase and you were already there, waiting for him. This time, however, you might've gotten stuck in your box, or perhaps were facing some annoying exhibit whose nature wouldn't let you pass. Nonetheless, he made it his short mission to help you.

Once he reached the box with your name painted onto the side, he halted, the sight of a posterboard catching his eye. According to you, you were the only part of your exhibit – that's what you told him, but the image of your face was on the poster, accompanied by several paragraphs of information. He looked to your little coffin, wondering if he could afford to leave you in there long enough to read it.

Nick had been teaching Ahk how to read English for a little while now, and it came time to put those lessons to the test. Finally, he could learn about you.

(L/N) was a decorated war hero who went into hiding soon after their tour duty ended. They never told anyone why, but it is generally assumed that it had something to do with the greatest feat of power they exercised: leading the Rolling Thunder operation. It is also possible that the adverse reaction of the public towards the Vietnam War drove (L/N) into hiding, like many soldiers from the time.

The tactics and morality of the operation has been critiqued harshly, but there's no denying the effect it had on both the war and the people of Vietnam and America alike. The CIA privately estimated that damage inflicted in the north totaled $500 million in total damage. They also estimated that by April 1967, 52,000 casualties including 21,000 deaths had occurred as a result of the operation. The CIA estimated that 75 percent of casualties were involved in military or quasi military operations including civilians working on military and logistical operations.

There is only one existing interview with (L/N), occurring several months before they went into hiding.

"You don't see very much, from up there," they recounted. "All you see is the damage of property. You don't see the kids. You don't see the blood. You don't see the abandoned cribs and you can't see the shattered windows. I think that's the part that really gets me – I'm not proud of what I did. I don't think I ever will be, which is how it should be. What we did was an crime against human nature and I wish it never happened at all. If I had to do it again I'd desert."

"Ahk? Are you out there?" You asked, knocking on the wood door.

The noise brought him out of his imagination, picturing you in a cushioned chair, talking to some journalist. He left the posterboard and undid the latch, helping you out of the wooden case.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, his hand still holding yours. You looked him up and down, a confused and suspicious look in your eye. "I... I read about the, um, Rolling Thunder operation."

Your eyes widened and you stopped breathing.

"... oh."

"It doesn't make me think any less of you," he murmured, cupping your cheek to hold reluctant eye contact with you. His touch was a welcome one, warm and soft, like everything you loved about the Pharaoh.

"I wish I was more like you," you said in a broken, cracking voice, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat. "You at least had the morality to stop before it started. I didn't even stop in the middle of it."

"That's because I could afford to. I didn't face any consequences, but you would've, and I know you regret what you did," he assured you, brushing away the couple tears that made their way down your flushed cheek.

"I can't use 'following orders' as an excuse. Atrocities against humanity have been excused with that."

"You can't carry guilt with you forever," he said softly.

"I can deal with it, on my own time," you mumbled, leaning into the warmth of his hand. "Just... don't tell anyone. I'll do it when I'm ready."

"Of course."

[plasticpartslove]

Zibits Documentation? (2010′s toy)

I recently remembered a toy from a while ago that I have fond memories of. However, upon searching for them online, I found that little information exists on them other than a bunch of long defunct shop pages and obscure YouTube videos. So, without further ado...

Zibits! - “Control your world”.

I retrieved a few of these adorable dust-bitten bots from what they probably assumed was their permanent resting place to get documented.

Here’s the little bean! This is what I assume is the basic, or rather ‘bog-standard’ Zibit. According to an older review from ‘toysaretools.com’ (You can read that article here) Its name is ‘Flux’. The first thing I noticed about all of my new-old robot crew was that all their batteries were still working, which isn’t bad for a 10 year old toy! (At least, this was the case for ones that did have batteries in them.) On the topic of batteries, the Zibit itself runs on 3 LR44 (coin) batteries, while the remote requires 2 AAA batteries. A hassle to get your hands on, but considering these things haven’t given up for 10 years (admittedly, not of constant use) I don’t think its a bad investment!

Now, the second thing I noticed was that Flux has none of this screws, only being held together by friction. For for the disassembly, I will be using a robot with the same mould, also known as the copper chap from the first photo.

This process should be an absolute walk in the park. Regardless, I am somewhat trying to make a documentation. The Zibit pictured stands around 5.7 cm tall. The battery compartment’s screw is held into the cover piece, so I won’t worry about treating it as a screw and instead I’ll just think of is as a single part, along with the plastic its attached to. Now, shift your attention to those two little screws at the bottom. The heads of these screws are 4 mm wide and so is the head of the screwdriver I'm using to remove them. This same screwdriver will be perfectly sufficient to undo the battery cover. Go ahead and remove the battery compartment cover to reveal all the holding screws.

You can now see all 3 screws that will need removing. The most difficult part of this entire process will be putting that central screw underneath the spring back in place, so I recommend having some way to magnetise your screwdriver. Although, for me, the mere act of removing the screw magnetises the screwdriver. Anyway, go ahead and get them out.

All 3 screws are the same length, your only worry is losing these tiny things.

Now, carefully pull apart the front and back half of the Zibit. The little robot splits in half directly down its side!

Presto!

You can now see all of the core components of a Zibit. 

This is what I’ve taken to calling the ‘drive shaft’ of the Zibit. Of course, it is not a drive shaft, and doesn’t even resemble one. Anyway, that is what makes the Zibit move. It is universal to all Zibits.

The visor can also be removed.

Alas, this is as far as we can really go into our exploration of the Zibit. I do however have a bunch of trivia both from memory and from research that I also want to put on this post.

Zibits of the same mould all operate on the same infrared frequency. This means they can respond to each others remotes. Though, this isn’t very useful if you want to operate them at the same time.

Zibits arms are somewhat pliable.

Some don’t have a screw inside their battery compartment, instead they have it in the back of their head.

The one with the transparent head splits down the middle, however the dome is a separate piece.

Now, I do need to reveal my ulterior motive. Before any of this, I wanted to try and find a list showing each Zibit so I could see what ones existed. However, I don’t think such a list exists. All website links I’ve scavenged are defunct, and the only image I did find lists the names of ‘series 1.5′.

(In case you cant read this:

Sion/Bendix/Rev/Bash/Termanis/Shift/Dinc/Spex/Epsilon/Tank/Go-B/Shox)

Not only does each one have a name, but they also have a description of their personality. Here’s a much nicer image:

I bring this up not only because I like the aesthetic of 2000′s graphic design, but because its sort-of* makes this lost media, and I think that's kinda cool.

(*in fairness, I’ve only searched around for the best part of like 5 minutes.)

However, while looking around, I think I’m starting to piece together why Zibits only lasted around 2 years. Most articles I’ve read seem to talk about how cute these little guys are. However, in the future...

??? Idk, I just don't like these other designs. I think this guy specifically feels kinda cheep to me because of their fake tracks. 

This lump’s almost complete lack of printing feels a bit lazy.

Woah... Ok fine, this ones a cutie.

This demon is singlehandedly responsible for the death of the brand and I will not forgive them.

Hang on, but seriously. What caused the demise of the Zibits? What other, popular scamp runs around on a series of roads and hubs you construct? What's more, this opponent brand must have come into existence sometime around 2010...

Ah.

Perhaps some things are just meant to be.

[sourmarmales]

Stockholm — Endeavor x Reader

Kink!tober Day One: Mirrors

Summary: After one year of being forced to stay in a house with a person you hate, you decide to give up trying to escape, yet past evidence of escape plans pop up.

Words: 2300+

A/N: I felt icky every second of writing this.

WARNING:  Yandere-ish,  NSFW, Sexual Content, dub-con

You don’t know what you did to make him so mad, you have been behaving so well all week! You were sitting on the couch, staring out of the window into the garden when he walked in. You perked up and smiled, ready to great him. But as soon as you saw him throw his coat across the room with his eyes set on you, your smile faltered.

“Endeavor?” You asked carefully as you stood up from the couch. You flinched when a screwdriver covered in dirt was thrown in front of you. Your heart stopped as you stared down at it.

“I thought we got over this.” He growled as he stepped towards you, you stayed still trembling in your place as he walked closer. You had forgotten about that screwdriver, it was long before you had given up your attempts to run. 

“Endeavor, I can explain.” You whimpered as you looked up at him. He ignored you as his hand grabbed onto your hair. He yanked hard, pulling you to follow him. Your face clenched in pain, your hands holding your scalp as you followed him up the grand stairs.

“In all the ways I could have found out, I find out by tripping on it.” He growled as he pulled you into the bedroom. He released you hair so he could lock the door. You took this chance to back away from him.

“Endeavor, that was from a long time ago! I’d never leave you!” You whimpered, your knees touching the bed. You shrunk in your spot when he turned towards you. He said nothing as he stepped towards you. In a panic you hopped on the bed, crawling backwards to put some distance between the two of you.

“I was nothing but kind to you the first night I brought you here.” Endeavor growled before grabbing your onto your ankle and pulling so that your back hit the bed. “Do you really want to know why I chose you that day?” He crawled on top of the bed, roughly grasping both your arms to keep you pinned down as you squirmed. 

You sobbed, turning your head away from him. You clenched your eyes tightly shut, so much so that colors were popping in and out. You weakly tugged at your arms before giving up and clenching your fist.

“I chose you because you were the most beautiful woman that I had ever laid eyes on.” He leaned down to your ear. “And my first thought was, how could a woman such as yourself be placed in line with other women who could not even compete with your beauty? But now I know…I know that even though you are stunning on the outside, on the inside you are just as disgusting as the rest of them.”

You’re eyes slowly opened up and your body relaxed. “I give up.” You whined under your breath, staring at the wall blankly. You couldn’t fight him, who are you kidding? He was so much stronger than you, you’re quirk didn’t even compare to him. Your stupid water quirk was only good for putting out the fires he started.

Endeavor hummed against the skin of your neck, placing little kisses here and there. “For once I think you’ve made a wise choice.” He placed another kiss to your neck. “But that does not mean you get out of your punishment.” With that, his calloused hands moved to your shirt where he ripped it open, a sheer ripping noise filling the void of near silence.

You gasped, your head turning towards him in a quick movement. “Endeavor, please don’t.” You whimpered, your tears not stopping as you looked up at him with pitiful eyes.

He stared down at your as his hands caressed your sides. “Why shouldn’t I?” He asked, fingers gliding over your now bare stomach. “I’m even being fairly nice, would you like me to be rough?” Endeavor slid his hands up your chest before he dug his nails into your supple flesh, dragging them back down your torso.

You yelped and shook your head. “N-No!” You quickly spat out, your back arched but you forced yourself back down, hands clenching and unclenching in anticipation. 

A growl of satisfaction came from him as he leaned down to bite your collar bone, using his hands to massage your breasts as he did so.

You bit down on your lip, suppressing your moan into a humming noise. Your squirms picked up underneath him, your tears slowing to a stop.

Endeavor kissed up to your neck where he bit down on the front of your neck, causing a moan to fly past your lips. “Don’t you dare hide those from me. I want to hear your sounds of pleasure.” One of his hands slid down to your waist, slipping right underneath both fabrics that covered you so that his fingers could slowly tease you. “You’re already so wet for me.”

You moaned in surprise, your back arching off the bed and into his chest. You told yourself you weren’t going to cave that easily, but it was so hard, seeing his eyes staring at you so hungrily.

Endeavor dipped two fingers in and groaned in satisfaction as he lifted his head to look down at your face. “You should see yourself right now, how desperate you look.”

You turned your head to the side, sucking in a shuttered breath, your cheeks a bright shade of maroon. You clenched your legs together, trying to keep him out and keep them from trembling in anticipation. He used his other hand to spread your legs open once again as he started to slowly curl his fingers inside your, searching for the spots that will make your cry out for more. Another unwanted moan passed your lips loudly. You placed your freed hands over your mouth to keep the noises from escaping.

Endeavor ripped your hands away from your mouth and grinned. “What did I say about holding those back?” He pulled his fingers out of your and raised them to your mouth, forcing them in slowly. “Suck, I want you to taste yourself.” He demanded. You cringed but complied almost immediately, sucking on his fingers a little too eagerly. You twisted your tongue around them, making eye contact with him and humming. You could bite down on his fingers, you should, but you can’t.

He hummed as he took in the image, eyes half lidded and full of lust. He let you suck on his fingers for a few more seconds before he started to get impatient with himself. With a growl, he pulled his fingers from your mouth and his hands shot down to your pants, quickly undoing them and tugging them off along with your underwear. His fingers found your entrance once again, but this time he added a third.

You gasped and moaned, arching of the bed. “Fuck! Endeavor!” She pleaded.

“That’s it, beg for me, tell me what you want.” He started to pump his fingers in and out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace.You squirmed, your legs quivering. 

“Please fuck me, Endeavor!” You whimpered, you turned your head away, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

Endeavor grinned and picked up the pace of his fingers, giving you the idea that he would finger fuck your until you climax, but then he pulled out all his fingers in a harsh motion. “Say it again.”

“Fuck me!” You moaned, squirming underneath him. “Please Endeavor!” Your chest rose and fell with every desperate breath. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed him. He pulled away from you for a moment, only to hastily unbutton his shirt and throw it to the side as his hands started to fumble with his belt.

You lifted your leg, rubbing it against him needily. “Endeavor!” You cried.

Once Endeavor was able to unbuckle his belt, he used one hand to smack your pussy, a sharp yelp following behind. “Don’t touch me unless I tell you to.” He tossed his belt to the ground with his shirt, kicking off his shoes as he did. You placed your leg back down, resorting to squirming in your spot.

Endeavor slid out of his pants and underwear and eagerly leaned back down to bite at your neck, groaning as he started to stroke himself.

You moaned again, your legs trembling as you tried to keep them down. “Endeavor please!” You cried out in pure desperation.

Endeavor positioned himself at your entrance before sliding in slowly, groaning at how you wrapped so tightly around his dick. “Keep begging whore.” He growled into your ear as he started to thrust in and out of your pussy, teasingly slow. You shivered. God he was a lot bigger than you remembered.

 "Faster, Endeavor, please!“ She moaned out.

Endeavor complied, his thrusts speeding up as he started to get rougher with his movements. He set both his hands on either side of your head to keep him propped up so he could see your face as he pounded into you. "You look so beautiful like this…if only you could see it…” Maybe you could. His eyes glanced around the room before landing on the standing mirror in the corner, smirking to himself as he thought of the possibilities. Endeavor pulled away entirely so that he could flip your over and pull your into his lap, arms placed under your knees to lift your up as he stood up from the bed. “How about I show you just how beautiful you are?” He growled in your ear.

You whimpered pathetically, you felt so tainted. You turned your head to the side embarrassed.  “Endeavor, please.” Her voice faltered.

He smirked and placed a kiss on the side of your neck before he carried your over to the mirror, keeping your legs nice and spread. He shifted a little to hold your up with one arm while his other hand gripped under your chin and forced your to look into the mirror. “Look at yourself dear, look at how desperate you are.” You blushed, your eyes turning away in disappointment towards yourself.

Endeavor’s free hand slid down your body all the way to the sensitive skin between your legs, lightly flicking your clit. "Don’t look away, unless you want me to stop?” He growled as he pulled his hand away from you.

You sharply moaned a shiver consumed your body. You hesitantly looked back towards the mirror, a look of shame on your face. “Please don’t stop…”

“That’s what I thought..” He purred as he held his dick still so that he could lower you down onto him. “I bet you love this, getting to see yourself stretch around my cock.”

“Fuck.” You breathed, your head lolled to the side before you picked it back up. “Endeavor.” She purred. You hated to admit it but his dick itself would be enough to keep you in line.

Endeavor slowly started to thrust up into your pussy, biting down on your shoulder. “That’s it…beg me to fuck you like the slut you are.”

You moaned your back arching off him. “Fuck! Harder!” You wiggled in his grip.

“Fuck!” Endeavor groaned, lifting you off his dick for a moment before flipping you around so that you now faced him. Afterwards, he quickly pressed your against the wall so he could slam back into your tight pussy.

You couldn’t help yourself, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “More! Please Endeavor!” You cried out, slamming your lips onto his, you could feel the tightening coil in your stomach.

He growled into the kiss and only started to pound into your harder. “I swear if you cum before I give you permission I will finish myself and leave you on your own.”

You dug your nails into his back, trying to desperately hold back your orgasm. You buried your face in his neck, breathing heavily as you focused on nothing but holding your orgasm back in fear.

“Ask for it, beg for your release.” He growled as he started pounding faster.

“Please Endeavor!” You moaned, nuzzling into his neck. “Please I’m so close! Please let me cum!” You begged.

Endeavor slammed into your a few more times before humming in approval. “You can cum now.” He purred next to your ear.

You did just that. As your orgasmed flooded your senses with pure euphoria, your body trembled with an accompanying shaky moan. “Endeavor!” You cried into his neck, your arms tightening around him.

Endeavor growled as he could feel your walls clench around him, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Endeavor quickly let your slide out of his arms so that you sat on your knees, gripping your hair as he forced his cock down your throat. “Come on whore, use that filthy mouth of yours to make me cum.”

You hungrily bobbed your head, moaning on his dick. You held into his thighs as you swirled your tongue around. Your eyes stared up at him for approval you so craved. 

He threw his head back in pleasure as you bobbed your head. When he felt his release about to spill from him, he quickly pulled your mouth off him so he could give himself two more strokes before his cum shot out, leaving beautiful streaks of white all over your face. He groaned as he raised his hand to your face, using two fingers to scoop up some of his cum before sliding his fingers in your mouth. “Look at you, you’re so perfect.” he purred as he watched you grab onto his wrist, sucking his fingers clean.

Endeavor pulled his fingers out of your mouth and cupped your face before bending down to place a soft kiss on your lips. He kneeled down even more just so he could get a better grip as he lifted your back up, cradling you against his chest. “You are absolutely gorgeous…”he whispered as he looked over the marks that covered your neck and chest.

[another-sonic-blog]

Stages: The Bike

Stages: Acquaintance Pt.2: The Bike (Chapter 3)

ShadAmy (Friends or lovers, you decide)

2k

Previous: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190028206745/the-cake-shadamy

A/N: I need to start thinking on a title for this story.

.

"A-a-agent Sh-Sh-Shadow?"

"What?"

The agent gulped, "Your, assistance is required at the commander's office."

Shadow nodded and the agent ran away. Shadow didn't mean to scare the guy, but it low-key made him feel good whenever that happened.

He walked throw the corridors he knew very well, all black and although was alright with the choice of colors, something different once in a while would be nice.  

He knocked on the door of the Commander and the automatically opened.

"Take a seat, agent Shadow." The commander said as he pointed at the chair in front of him.

"No, need, just give me the details of the mission and Team Dark will be on its way," Shadow responded as he crossed his arms.

"This is not about Team Dark."

"A solo mission then?"

"No, it's not about a mission." The commander then was fast to turn on the plasma TV that was in his office. An image of a red bird boy appeared on it.

"Do you know this is?" The Commander asked Shadow.

"Never seen him."

"Really? He stated that a month ago you beat him up and left him hanging on a light pole."

Shadow stood quiet as he stared into the Commander's eyes. There was a silence between them until the Commander spoke again.

"Did you beat him? Agent Shadow?"

No response.

"Agent Shadow!"

"I don't know! If I could remember every guy I beat up, I would be a millionaire." Shadow responded.

"Agent Shadow..." The Commander sighed, "You are a millionaire."

"Oh, right."

"Look, this boy is the son of one of the investors of G.U.N., he pays for 7% percent of G.U.N's expenses." The Commander added, "We can't afford to lose him."

"That was a month ago, why is he complaining about it now?" Shadow asked.

"I don't know and I don't care. My apologies, Agent Shadow, but I am required to give you a punishment."

.

.

.

"And that's how Shadow lost his motorcycle."

"Wow, I feel bad for him," Amy said as she looked at her feet. They were currently at Rouge's apartment, getting ready for Amy's dates.

"Well, he kinda deserved it. That will teach him to control himself...He can't just go around punching people." Said Rouge as she cut Amy's hair.

"Yeah but...Shadow really likes his bike, doesn't he?"

"Absolutely, there's nothing or anyone he cares about but that motorcycle of his."

Amy sighed, she remembers making arrangements with the Lucas, the red bird who harassed her a month ago. Lucas agreed to not say anything about Shadow to G.U.N if Amy went on dates with him.

And she agreed, she didn't want to put Shadow in any trouble. However, she couldn't do it any longer. The guy was just a jerk and stupid. It comes to show why no girl would date him unless they were obliged to.

If she only had stated her ground in the beginning, Shadow wouldn't have beat up the guy. He wouldn't have gotten in trouble with G.U.N and he wouldn't lose his bike.

"Come on, honey don't look too sad, it's just Shadow. He will get over it."

But Amy couldn't get over it.

.

It was a Sunday morning and all Shadow wanted to do was sleep. He didn't want to go out of bed, maybe just a little breakfast, but he could order for Chinese take out when he wakes up.

But destiny had other plans for him.

Ding dong.

He was just going to pretend he didn't hear that.

Ding Dong

He didn't hear again.

Ding Dong

Oh for Chaos' sake.

"WHO THE FU-"

Shadow stopped himself as he opened the door and saw the pink hedgehog again. "What do you want?"

"Hey, Shadow! Did I wake you up?"

Shadow looked at her and didn't say anything as he scratched his belly. "What do you think?"

"Sorry," Amy added, "I have a small present for you."

"Is it a cake?"

"No."

"Then I don't want it." Shadow was about to close the door on her but Amy was fast to put her foot between Shadow's entrance and the door.

"It's a bike."

.

"Ta-da!" Amy said as she showed him the motorcycle she got for him. They were outside Shadow's apartment on the parking site.

"This is trash."

"Hey!" Amy said. Alright, she had to admit, the bike was a bit rusty. Flat tire, the paint was worn and maybe the battery didn't work anymore, but it could still work.

"I don't want it, take this out of my parking site."

"Come on Shadow, just give it a small try."

"If I wanted a new bike, I would have bought another one already," Shadow said as he began to walk away.  

"Why haven't you then?"

"Because it's not about the bike itself...it's about the memories I have with it," Shadow responded.

That was something Amy couldn't beat. As far as she knew, and according to what Rouge told her, Shadow has had the same motorcycle for years. She sighed, there was only one thing left to do.

"Sorry, nevermind mind," Amy said as she held the bike by its handle and made it move alongside her. Shadow wasn't going to stop her. He wanted to sleep more and then order take out.

"Where are you going with that?" Shadow sighed defeated.

"Home." Amy was lying, she was actually thinking of going to G.U.N. and ask the Commander to give Shadow give his bike back.

Shadow really wanted to just let her go. To just sleep and forget about his problems. "That bike is trash but...we could make it work, I guess."

Once again, Shadow didn't mean to say that.

.

"Pass me the Dremel,"

"Ok!"

"Give me a pair of pliers."

"Ok!"

"Give me a Hex screw"

"Ok!"

"Screwdriver."

Shadow was working on the Engine of the motorcycle. After the adjustments he made to it, he was sure even this trash was going to work.

"Alright, it should be working now." Shadow added, "I have to admit, you could be pretty useful. I didn't know you knew about mechanics."

"I only know the name of things, I spend some time with Tails once in a while." Amy moved a string of her hair to the side, smiling and a bit proud that someone like Shadow actually recognized her.

"Now, let's paint!" Amy excitedly clapped her hands as she stood up.

"I'll leave you to that then," Shadow stood up as well. They were in the apartment's garage. Every person who lived in the apartment had a personal garage. Of course, Shadow's garage was a full floor garage. Full of cars and motorcycles. Amy had to admit that she felt intimated a bit.

"Wait, no, you have to paint it with me!"

"I don't paint." Shadow felt Amy grab him by his arm and she shook her off immediately. "Don't touch me."

"I won't touch you if you paint with me." Amy keeping touching Shadow but this time in a more annoying manner. She kept poking his arm.

"I am not joking," Shadow grabbed Amy's hand, "You are wrong if you think I am won't punch you just because you are a girl."

Amy looked at Shadow with her green sparkling eyes, she blinked a few times.

Shadow wasn't gonna do it, there was no way he was going to paint. Not now, not ever.

"Fine." He said.

How does she do that?

.

Since Shadow was forced to paint, Amy let him pick whatever color he wanted.

And of course, it was black.

Amy gave it a small touch as she hand-painted Shadow's spiky red logo. It was a bit messy because Amy's hand was shaking as it was her first time doing the logo.

"We are finally done!" Amy said as she smiled at Shadow.

Alright, Shadow had to admit that the bike looked good. The led lights looked perfect with it. The glossy black paint just made the bike look dangerous and the used tires gave it an old look that made Shadow find it amusing.

"Well, thank you, Shadow!" Amy added, "I'll take my leave now."

Shadow noticed that Amy was leaving with the bike, "What do you think you are doing?"

"Leaving with my bike," Amy added, "I thought you said you didn't want it."

At this point, he knew she was playing with him.

"I am kidding, you keep it." Amy smiled as she threw the key at Shadow. He caught them, he noticed that the key had a rose keychain.

Note to himself: Throw that keychain away.

"Alright, goodbye, Shadow." Amy waved as she walked away. "And I am sorry, I couldn't give you something better."

"Just don't come to my house again."

"Deal."

Shadow watched Amy leave as he placed his new bike on a parking spot. One questions still prevailed on his mind,

Why would Amy give him a bike?

.

Shadow and Rouge were at the gym, practicing their martial arts. Rouge was holding the punching bag as Shadow gave it kicks and punches.

"You have been riding the same bike for weeks now. Did you already move on from BB?" Rouge asked as she teasingly joked about Shadow's old bike's name.

"BB and I...are taking a break," Shadow added. "Now, I am down to riding the trash Amy gave me."

"Trash?"

"Yeah an oxidated trash, I fixed up."

Rouge wasn't one to mix her life with work. Especially, if they were at G.U.N. However if Shadow was acting like a jerk, she was going to let him know.

"Oh 'fixed up?" Rouge added, "Just how Amy fixed up so many dates with that red bird boy, who you beat up?"

"What?" Shadow inquired as he kept punching the bag.

"Amy made a deal with the guy. She dates him and he doesn't tell his daddy. His daddy doesn't say anything to G.U.N." Rouge sighed as she felt Shadow kicking the punching bag this time. "Do I have to describe it with dolls? Because I can."

That made a lot of sense actually. He beat up the guy around a month ago and he didn't say anything. The reason behind that was the Amy was dating that guy for a month, just so he wouldn't get in trouble.

"Why did she stop?" Shadow asked.

"Really, Shadow? I just told you that Amy-"

"Why did she stop?!" Shadow said one more time with a loud voice and Rouge looked at him surprised. Shadow wasn't one to lose his cool like that.

"The guy was just a jerk, he would make fun of her, burp all the time and treats everyone like trash!" Rouge felt the punching bang being punched with a greater force. "She did all of that for you and more! She even went and spend all of her savings just to buy that bike you call 'trash'!

Next second, she watched Shadow's hand pierce through the punching bag.

Rouge sighed, she knew Shadow for a long time but sometimes, she just couldn't understand the guy. Rouge went to her gym bag and pulled out keys from it.

"Commander told me you are free from your punishment," Rouge said as she threw Shadow's motorcycle keys at him.

Shadow caught them with one hand since the other one was still caught in the punching bag.

He watched Rouge go out of the gym. Angry, really angry. But her anger couldn't be compared to the one he was feeling.

He was angry with...himself.

There were a lot of questions but one thing was for sure.

He will be using his new bike for a while.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Next part: https://another-sonic-blog.tumblr.com/post/190338829140/stages-the-team-dark-rose

A/N: I am enjoying writing this. I'll be working on some SilvAmy stuff and then I'll write the next chapter for this!

[edelwoodsouls]

the light behind your eyes

The Magnus Archives, JonMartin, pre-relationship

You'll never go through with it, he said. Watching the blood drip, maybe he doesn't know Jon as well as he thought.

Word Count: 2464

Ao3

inspiration

(this art and this show apparently single-handedly cured my months-long writers block, i only started the show like a month ago, holy shit im in love)

--

The Institute's halls are darker than they used to be.

He's not sure when it happened, really. Just a few short years ago, he could have called this basement home. It didn't matter that he was sleeping there, that his real home was writhing with worms - that wasn't what gave it that comfort, that warmth. But the knowledge that someone was always there, the camaredie of close-quarters living and near death experience...

He misses it. He misses Tim, with his awful sense of humour. Sasha's laugh. Even Melanie's angry tirades about whatever was pissing her off that week.

He misses keeping Jon company over slowly cooling cups of tea late into the night - not talking, not acknowledging each other, simply existing quietly in the same space, an assurance that he wasn't alone-

He laughs out loud at the thought, the sound echoing like a gunshot down the hollow corridor, because isn't that the point? He's miserable, he's lonely, so it must be working. It'll all be worth it.

But still. The corridors feel cold and empty. Even though he knows Melanie is around somewhere, probably using the pages of some ancient research tome as cigarette paper, and Daisy has been haunting the spaces between the stacks for the last few weeks. And Jon, of course, most likely recording another statement and pretending it satisfies that primal itch in his soul that screams for fresh trauma.

It feels more like a haunted, ghostly archive than the home of several nearly-human disasters who should really be banding together for emotional support.

In these moments, with the others sequestered away in their own problems, Martin likes to wander the halls himself. It's so hard to leave the office without making human contact usually, but over the last few months he's come to sense the pathways of the others, how best to avoid their company. Almost like a sixth sense, or - ironically- a third eye. He takes the chances when he can, stretching his legs, letting himself get lost in the ghosts of better memories.

He's not sure if it's voluntary, or a method of making himself feel more Lonely.

It's the early hours of the morning now, not that he can tell without windows. He hasn't seen sunlight in so long, he's sure his skin must be paler than the pages of a Leitner - even turning on the overhead lights makes him squint.

His footsteps echo off the brick. It must be raining outside, he thinks, because there's an odd, sharp smell in the air, damp and cloying. He almost wants to run outside, feel it on his skin. Maybe it could wash away his - his Loneliness? His attachments? Which would he prefer to lose more at this point?

He can't deny the power that slipping through the cracks, going unnoticed but noticing everything, makes him feel.

His feet guide him thoughtlessly, in tracks he's paced a hundred thousand times before. Through the stacks of old statements, still barely organised from Gertrude's original mess - fifty years is a hell of a lot of statements to manage, after all, especially when the mess is deliberate. Past Tim's old desk - it's Daisy's now, technically, but Martin's never really been one for change.

Of course, his feet always lead him to Jon's door.

He hates to admit how many times he's sneaked up to the small porthole window in the door, peeking in to check in on the archivist. He's seen Jon recording statement after statement, seen him staring absently into stone-cold coffee for hours, seen the absent-minded scratching of  burn scars, the many times he's been straight up passed out on top of a mound of files. Only sheer will-power has kept the door firmly between them.

He'll only sneak a quick look, Martin tells himself now, tugging absently at his shirt sleeve. Just to check that the archivist is still alive and breathing - not that anything else is possible now, he supposes.

His thoughts are interrupted by the unmistakeable sound of Jon groaning, a low, agonised noise that sounds forced out involuntarily, through gritted teeth. Martin's heart stutters. For a moment, his feet still. Then he's speeding the rest of the way down the hall and, before he can think better of it, throwing open the door.

Martin freezes. Hand gripped white-knuckled around the door handle, to keep himself standing upright, to keep himself grounded so he doesn't throw up at the sight before him.

That scent is thicker in the air the moment he opens the door, and he realises with a plunging horror that it isn't raining outside, that the stench now shoving its way down his nostrils is metallic and all-too familiar.

Jon is sat at his desk, as he always is, slumped over it, head held in his hands like he's about to fall asleep on the pile of blood-soaked papers below. But it isn't fatigue dragging at him now. It's the steady stream, the waterfall of crimson forcing its way past his palms, curling past his fingers in almost mesmorising, intricate patterns, dripping audibly onto the statements below.

Spread before him among the papers are an assortment of tools. A kitchen knife, a letter opener, a screwdriver - is that a blowtorch? With a sick sense of humour, Martin notices the corkscrew he had kept so closely for protection during the Filth's first attack, now sticky with blood, clutched limply in between Jon's fingers.

His voice cracks as a strangled noise emerges froom his throat in place of words. He swallows down the bile, resisting the urge to clamp a hand over his nose. "Jon?"

Silence stretches deafeningly across the table. Jon doesn't even react to the sound, though his limbs are shaking with a brittle tension.

The corkscrew slips slickly from between the archivist's fingers, clattering on the table like a gun going off, and yet the silence rings louder still. There's an awful static in the air, like when Jon uses his abilities, except now it doesn't seem to stop, doesn't seem to end, just reverberates in his head to the point of pain. Like the very air is crying out silently in pain.

A small sound emerges from behind Jon's hand. He still hasn't moved, hasn't looked up, but Martin would recognise that dry chuckle, tinged with disbelief, any day. It's a sound that's brought him no small amount of delight to hear over the years, even when that disbelief was more indignant and exasperated at Martin's incompetence, because it meant that he had Jon's attention - had, in some way, broken through that stiff upper lip that Jon had once been adamant on presenting.

Now it sends a horrified shiver down his spine. There's no pain in that laugh, just a resignation.

"Martin." The word is spoken so softly he almost doesn't hear it - a whisper, a prayer; a drowning man accepting his fate.

Panic rears, finally, inside Martin's chest like a suddenly startled animal. "Jon, Jon are you okay-" Stupid, stupid, of course he's not bloody okay, but what else can he say, with Jon sitting so calmly as he bleeds out onto his desk? "I'll- uh- hang on a sec, I don't have my phone with me, I'll call the ambulance, oh god-"

You won't go through with it, Martin had said, in a voice as cold as he could make it, as detached and unwelcoming as he could bear. You're a coward, looking for an excuse.

Hit Jon where it hurts the most, cut off any emotional connection keeping them tethered. It's the only way, he told himself, ignoring the sick satisfaction he got from finally scaring Jon the way Jon had often scared him.

He'd really thought he was right, but apparently he doesn't know Jon as much as he thought he did. Or maybe it's his fault, he drove him to this. Who and what has Jon got left, without Martin? Abandoned by those he loves, treated as expendable by Basira, blamed for things he can hardly control by Melanie and Tim, left alone to face that wide, unrelenting eye that pulled their strings.

Jon is far more Lonely than Martin has ever managed to be, and he isn't even trying.

The words continue to fall from his mouth in a panicked babble. "Do you have your phone with you, Jon? Jon? Or did we reconnect the landline after the last attack? I know the hospital ignores calls from the Magnus Institute when possible, but surely they can do something, it's gonna be okay-"

"Martin." Jon lets one of his hands shift slightly, and a trickle of red bursts forth onto the pages. "I guess-" there's that endearing, terrifying laugh again- "I suppose its for the best, that you didn't agree to come with me."

"What?"

"Would've made this a bit awkward, if you'd said yes."

And finally Jon raises his head, and Martin is horrifyingly unsurprised when deep brown irises meet his own. Blood still drips from the nearly-healed whites of his eyes, spilling over like tears. He can see the tissue knitting back together before his eyes, until the only evidence that anything awful ever happened is the drained pallor of Jon's skin, and the sticky wash of half dried blood spread around him like a pool. He's clearly been at this for a while, judging by the dry patches, and the variety of tools at his disposal.

Martin can't take his eyes off the sight. "I..." The words vanish on his tongue like so much smoke.

It's almost worse, he thinks, that Jon is healing so quickly. That the one avenue of escape offered to the rest of them is closed to him forever by the very thing he's attempting to flee. He hadn't regret saying no to Jon, shutting him down, not with the very existence of the human race hanging in the balance - and he still doesn't. It's the mental image of him hidden away in his office, unnoticed, hacking away at his own face for hours without anyone so much as wondering where he was, noticing his cries of pain, that makes him sick with guilt.

"No need for an ambulance, Martin," Jon's face tugs into an awful almost-smile. "I'll be right as rain any second now. But if you happen to have some painkillers, I wouldn't be opposed. Bit of a headache, you see."

Despite himself, Martin lets out a disbelieving laugh of his own. How the hell did they get here? He even misses the long hours of investigation, the haunting paranoia. Even that was better than this resigned certainty of tragedy. None of them are planning to survive this, and if they do? Where the hell can they even go from here?

His feet carry him over the threshold into the office, and he can almost feel the Lonely loosening its clutches, just a little. He offers a hand out, surprised at how steady it remains in front of him. "Come on, Jon."

Oh, how that soft, shocked expression on Jon's face makes his heart break. The fingers that clasp around his feel like burning, an electricity leaping across his skin. When was the last time he touched another person, skin to skin?

It takes a long time to clean up the blood. Martin wishes it could take just a little longer, every touch rekindling an unnameable something in his heart. Sat in the bathroom, Jon is quiet, retreating into himself. His newly healed eyes are vacant. Martin sponges away the crust from Jon's sickly skin, brushes it from his hair, and Jon simply yields to his touch like a doll.

They find a fresh change of clothes in his locker, but judging by the stale air released from the compartment Martin is pretty sure Jon hasn't changed clothes in a long time. When was the last time he took a shower? Brushed his hair? Hell, Martin can't remember the last time he saw Jon eat. Does he even need to eat anymore?

He throws the bloodstained clothes away, and leads Jon back to his office. The statements on the desk are barely legible beneath the crimson, but as he goes to throw them away, too, Jon's hand catches his wrist, the first voluntary movement in almost an hour.

"Jon?"

"I...need those."

"They're unreadable."

"Not to me."

Worrying his lip, Martin silently hands them back, watching as Jon smooths them out carefully on one of the only clean patches of desk. As if he can feel the gaze on him, Jon looks up, finally meeting his eyes once again. God, that softness in his stare is an arrow in Martin's heart. He's painfully aware that he's viewing Jon without any of his walls up, stripped bare, at his lowest. Once he might've considered it an honour that Jon trusted him this much - wanted nothing more, really - but now he just wishes Jon would get angry at him again. It would make this so much easier.

Martin swallows, throat suddenly a desert. "I have to go."

Jon doesn't look surprised, or even hurt, just nods, gaze never leaving his. It occurs to him that the last time they spoke, Jon probably thought it was the last time he would be able to lay eyes on him.

Silence yawns across the room.

"Talk to someone?" It comes out more of a desperate plea than he would've liked. "Daisy, or Basira, or Melanie-" he knows even as he lists them that only Daisy would be willing to bear Jon's company at this point, and she's hardly in any better a place mentally.

"Okay, well..." Words can hardly be adequate enough in this sort of situation. "Don't, uh, don't get too Lonely, Jon?" The archivist's expression sharpens at that. "Before you can't come back from it."

A second of hesitation. Jon nods slightly, jerkily, as if he hadn't even considered the possibilty. "As long as you remember, I'm always here, Martin. I- I trust you, but if you need an anchor... I can be your rib."

"How romantic," Martin snorts drily, before he can think better of it. A flutter of panic ignites in his chest, but Jon just nods, and the flutter becomes something more like hope.

It's not an assurance that everything will be okay. They both know the impending disaster rushing towards them at full speed as they themselves hurtle towards it.

But it's a promise. A thin, invisible cord, anchoring the two of them together.

Today, whatever fresh hell this is, they can take the punches and commit the sacrifices until they're bled dry.

But tomorrow - what if. If there is a tomorrow, any semblance of future? They can take on the world, together.

He leaves the door ajar when he slips back into the corridor.

[lycorogue]

Meet My OCs: Willow (Part 2 - Relationships)

Welcome back, folks! As I mentioned in Part 1 of Meet Willow, she became a bit overwhelming, forcing me to post a week late, as well as break her introduction into a mini-series in and of itself.

A quick recap before I keep going. This is part of a multi-post series I started here on Tumblr about a month ago. A means to introduce you guys to my main OCs.

In Part 1 of this series, I talked about why I'm doing it in the first place, as well as explain the real-world influences that helped me create my two story worlds of Gyateara and Glitches.

Part 2 of the series talked about the inspiration that birthed each of my four main Gyateara characters.

Part 3a did the same, but for my four main teenage Glitches characters.

Part 3b then talked about the Glitches main supportive cast of six adult characters; each one originating as a canonical X-Men character.

A couple minutes ago, I moved on to Part 4 of this series; the official introduction of my characters, one by one. I started off with my most present character: Willow Driver in her own multi-post mini-series. In that first section, I talked about Willow's background, gave an overview of her personally, and introduced you to her powers. 

In Meet Willow: Part 2, I'm discussing her main relationships. Then, within the next few minutes, I'll also have Part 3 posted, which will discuss her story arc thus far in the X-Future play-by-post game she originated in, as well as how it relates to my intended starter character arc in Glitches. 

Then, as I move onto Part 4, I’ll display all the other images I have of Willow. Part 5 will complete Willow’s official introduction with some scene samples and shorts. Finally, this Willow mini-series will conclude with a bit of fun: videos of her as a customized wrestler on my husband’s WWE13 video game.

For now, though, how about we see how Willow interacts with others, shall we?

Shawn: 

Shawn and Willow Image generated via doll makers designed by ChaZie.

Willow's brother is 15months older than her, and has a tumultuous relationship with his sister. For most of their childhood, neither Driver child knew their father was a mutant/glitch, due to him hiding his powers from them. Shawn and Willow played pretend that they themselves were powerful mutants/glitches, and were basically best friends until Shawn neared puberty.

Once Shawn hit 13, he thought it was too childish for him to continue playing pretend with Willow, and started to grow distant from her. One day, while the two were arguing, and Willow threw a bit of a tantrum that Shawn wouldn't play with her anymore, Willow manifested the illusion of fireballs whipping at Shawn. He was terrified, and, having felt slighted and abandoned by her brother, Willow took full advantage.

Shawn and Willow's father Jacob admitted to being a mutant/glitch, and tried to train Willow on the use and control of her powers. Meanwhile, Shawn, who didn't have powers, cowered and became closer to their mother Meryl as she tried to protect Shawn from the pranks Willow would pull. Willow loved the pranks she could pull with her new powers, using Shawn as the butt of most jokes; using him to “train” her illusionary abilities. Understandably, this made Shawn withdraw more from his kid sister. This created a downward spiral, though.

The more pranks Willow pulled on Shawn, the more he attempted to avoid her. This made Willow feel more abandoned by her first best friend, and so, instead of ceasing the pranks to make amends, she retaliated with more and more spiteful pranks and jump-scares. She acted immaturely and impulsively, but she never truly understood that she was actually tormenting and bullying her brother. She never meant to actually cause the mental torture she inflicted. This doesn't excuse her behavior or diminish the pain she caused Shawn; it simply explains her perspective of it.

In the two years after Willow discovered her powers, her mischievous use of them became increasingly mean-spirited pranks, and her anger and confusion about being the only mutant/glitch she knew outside of her father spilled over into her pulling pranks on disliked classmates as well. It was then that Meryl and Shawn were finally able to convince Jacob to send Willow to the Colossus Academy so that she could have better structure, the ability to socialize with other mutants/glitches, and receive a more refined training on her powers.

Shawn's traumatizing and humiliating torment by his kid sister's hand was finally done, and Shawn believed he finally had a breather; a means to return to a normal life. However, high school can be just as cruel. Upon realizing Shawn's sister was “sent away,” it wasn't long for people to figure out she was a mutant/glitch. Although Shawn had no powers or physical mutations, he was still relentlessly teased by his peers, causing him to hate Willow even more since he could never escape her.

Shawn closed himself off from everyone; becoming a loner with virtually no friends aside from those he could make anonymously online. It wouldn't be until he left for college did he truly start anew. No one knew him, no one knew his sister, no one made the mutant/glitch connection. He was free. He broke all ties with his family when he graduated high school, making sure he could pay his own way through college.

He didn't want his family to know where he was, having grown distant from his parents as well. His kid sister had loved teasing him, pulling pranks on him, and messing with his head. His father cared more about “staying invisible” than he cared about keeping Shawn safe from his sister by sending her away, and Jacob had only caved when she started messing with her classmates; drawing attention to their family. Shawn's mother, while routinely begging Jacob to send Willow to The Academy, never did much to rein in her daughter and/or protect her son. Shawn had grown to hate them all.

(Side Note: in X-Future my husband had Shawn be a psychopath bent on revenge against his family, but I don't think he needs that additive, and I don't think psychopaths need more violent representation to add to the stigma, it’s bad enough that Trish may be a movie-stereotyped psychopath. So, in Glitches, Shawn is just a boy pushed to the edge by a less-than-ideal, and, dare I say, abusive/neglectful childhood.)

Since Shawn is a secondary character, I haven't come up with the actual inciting incident yet, but, while Shawn was away at college, and riled up about his family for whatever reason, his own powers finally manifested. Electrical current spiraled around his forearms, coming to points just past his finger tips like drill heads. He learned he could also shoot off these electrical drill heads from his arms. Once he realized he also had powers, Shawn became more and more destructive and violent, until he was finally expelled from college.

That was when The Brotherhood found him, recruited him, and Shawn took on the “oh so clever” code name of Screwdriver (my husband's idea; he likes puns). After his training with The Brotherhood was complete, Pyro allowed Shawn to have a bit of personal “leave” from the organization. Shawn used that opportunity to try to murder his parents. He failed; barely. So barely that he believed he had accomplished his task. Jacob and Meryl only survived because a few X-Men managed to get to them in time to rescue them from the rubble Shawn tried to crush them under.

Shawn's next goal, not realizing his parents are still alive, is to find Willow to torture and kill her.

Willow is dumbfounded to discover how violent and vengeful her brother has become, and is trying desperately to repent so she can help him heal and redeem himself. It probably isn't going to end well for these two, as showcased in this song that inspired their dynamic in the first place: “What Have You Done” by Within Temptation

It was originally going to be Willow’s feelings towards Devon, but it just worked so much better as her singing about a love of a brother than a potential romantic relationship souring.

Penumbra:

Affectionately called “Penny” by Willow, Noelle “Penumbra” Firada has the ability to teleport via shadows, and turn shadows into solid objects she can wield and attack/defend with. She was paired up with the slightly younger girl as a roommate back at Colossus Academy. Barely a day into their living arrangements, Penumbra became fast-friends with Willow. This quickly turned into an attraction to her BFF and roommate. Before the end of the semester, Penumbra knew she was in love.

Willow loved the attention, and she'd routinely flirt with Penumbra. She even had a few make-out sessions with Noelle, just for the fun of it. Willow never loved Penumbra back, though. She just enjoyed the companionship. From Willow's point of view, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Penumbra wanted a relationship, and Willow was complying... to a point.

When the duo moved to the Xavier Institute, and Willow met Chayse and Devon, she realized what true infatuation - and even romance - felt like. It was then that she realized how cruel she was to Penumbra by stringing her along. She instantly stopped her flirting and sexually physical interactions with Noelle.

Shortly after, Penumbra realized that Willow wanted Chayse and/or Devon, but not her. Willow would never love Penumbra the way Penny wanted. So, Penumbra let Willow go. She moved on, and never begrudged Willow their relationship. She understood that Willow was young and stupid. Their friendship became stronger from it, but Penumbra also needed distance. So, once she was of age, Penumbra signed up to become a full-fledged X-Men (X-Man?), and volunteers to go on missions as frequently as possible to stay away from the Institute while Willow is still there studying.

William: 

This is a character I won't be bringing over to Glitches, at least, not as-is. He may become part of a composite character, or be a rough skeleton to build a new original character from in the future. So, this bit of Willow's history is solely anchored to X-Future.

While at Colossus Academy and Xavier Institute, Willow continued to enjoy pulling pranks, although they weren't quite as mean-spirited as they were when she pulled them on Shawn. One of the students she loved to target was William. He was straight-laced, stuffy, a bookworm, stickler for the rules, and a 17yo that acted more like he was 80; always complaining about the immaturity of his classmates, and never joining in at social events. Willow wanted William to let loose and actually act like a kid for once, so she always tried to coax him via her illusions.

She would transform study rooms into hot spring oases, and have herself seemingly draped in just a towel as she relaxed in the water. This would get William worked up, but never in the manner that Willow intended. She misread a few glances from William as he raged about her illusions, and assumed he had a thing for her. Since she was only 15 at the time of their meeting, and he was nearing 18, she falsely assumed he was resisting the temptation of being with someone so young. She then wondered how far she could push him before he caved.

That was when she started to follow him around whenever they were out of classes, so she could try to seduce him. She created more oases, with images of her scantily clad within the illusions. She created “clones” of herself, so she could tease William while four other copies of herself crawled all over him, purring in his ear, sensually nibbling on his neck and fingers, and generally just straddling his lap.

William was never much of a fan, and routinely berated her immaturity and sensual nature.

One day, while experimenting with his teleportation powers, William accidentally teleported too high into the atmosphere, couldn't breathe, fainted, and fell to his death. Willow mourned him deeply, and helped Lia create a memorial statue of William by projecting an image of him for Lia to use as a blueprint for her sculpture.

Once alone in her room to grieve further, Willow realized she was never sexually or even romantically interested in William. Instead, the reason she had such fun teasing him was because he reminded her a little of Shawn, and she missed her brother. He had moved away to college at that point, and her parents couldn't tell her where he went. All she wanted to do was apologize to Shawn for her behavior when they were kids, and she wanted to apologize to William for tormenting him in a similar (but all-over different) manner. She will always regret never before realizing that William was like another older brother for her, and she again couldn't treat him the way he deserved.

Hedge: 

The remaining brother-figure in her life, Willow was kinder to Winston, especially after her realization post-William. She tried to get him to open up to her, but in gentler ways, and without teasing him. He still mostly kept to himself, though, and this time Willow decided not to push.

Tragedy still struck when the Xavier Institute was attacked, and collapsed under an explosion. One of the students that died in the attack was Hedge, and Willow vowed to never forgive those responsible. Willow's heart broke to discover that her best friend and crush Devon was a potential suspect since he defected to The Brotherhood an hour before the attack.

Devon: 

Willow saw through him fairly easily within the first few minutes of meeting each other. He was this punk kid who had lived on the streets and didn't trust anyone. He was also about as dense as steel, and only marginally more intelligent. She loved to pick on his ignorance and “tough guy” persona. However, she also saw potential in a fellow prankster. They soon started meeting up to plan pranks; usually on poor William. Willow loved the idea of Devon's shape-changing potential, although he focused mainly on his fire manipulation powers.

Devon grew a crush on Willow almost instantly, and she loved the attention. She just assumed it was like Penumbra's crush on her at first, especially since Willow had her eye on the headmistress's son Chayse at the time. However, the closer Willow got to Devon, the more they bonded and became friends, the more she realized her heart raced just a bit whenever he was around, and she would get flushed whenever she caught him staring, or could catch mental whispers of his attraction towards her. She definitely had a crush, and debated acting upon it. However, by that point Devon had become her other best friend, aside from Penumbra, and she didn't want to screw up this friendship the way she did with Penny. So she kept her crush to herself.

Shortly after realizing her romantic interest in Devon, he met a member of The Brotherhood. Pyro, to be exact, and Pyro instantly suspected that Devon could be his long-lost child. Unsure if Devon truly was his son, Pyro simply hinted that he could help Devon discover who his parents are, and who he truly is. Devon turned down the offer at first, instead asking Cyclops for answers. The veteran X-Men (X-Man? I never know what to call one X-Men member) decided to test Devon's loyalty first in a cruel and manipulative Danger Room session. He tricked Devon into presumably betraying the X-Men for The Brotherhood, and declared Devon unready to know his parentage.

This made Devon realize that perhaps he truly wasn't cut out for the X-Men, and ran off to join The Brotherhood. An hour later the Xavier Institute came crashing down in an attack. Most of the students were given enough warning to get to safety, but there were still casualties, such as Hedge.

Willow was terrified at first, because no one could find Devon. His letters of farewell and gratitude were burnt up in the attack; unread and unfound. A security tape linked to the school's version of a Black Box showed Devon running away from the school, proving he was alive, but making him a suspect in the attack. 

Instantly, Willow went from worried to betrayed. She didn't know the face of the person/people who attacked the Institute, so it was Devon's face Willow pictured whenever she thought of revenge for Hedge. This did not bode well for Devon when he eventually made his way back to the Institute. He had initially meant to only infiltrate The Brotherhood, and then bring back intel to make up for his supposed betrayal in Cyclops' test. Devon had only stayed with The Brotherhood for two years because he learned of the attack on the Institute, assumed everyone there had been killed, and The Brotherhood promised him revenge on the school's supposed attackers: an anti-mutant group called The Purifiers. 

When Devon discovered most of his friends had survived the attack, and the school was rebuilt, he attempted to return, and was promptly punched out by Willow upon his arrival.

It kept a while for Willow to forgive Devon, only for him to later be killed off by Trish. (Whoops. X-Future Spoilers...) Willow had to then grieve her friend once more, yet again unknowing that he actually is still alive and well. He was revived by another mutant unaffiliated with the X-Men or Brotherhood. However, Devon also has amnesia, his mutation gave him a new default face, and he's living in a mutant safe-house with the girl that revived him.

Chayse: 

Willow almost instantly fell for Chayse. In the X-Future canon, Chayse was dating Lia when Willow transferred into the Xavier School. Willow flirted slightly, but she mostly left Chayse alone. She wasn't going to break up a relationship, which was one of the main reasons she switched focus to Devon, whom she was also attracted to, and who was single. 

Alternatively, since Willow and Lia start up at Emily's school at the same time in Glitches, Chayse and Lia never actually start dating. Which means Willow and Chayse have more of a romantic relationship from the get-go, Chayse and Devon are more romantic rivals, and Willow doesn't become QUITE as close with Devon now that her attention is more equally torn between the guys. 

For both X-Future and Glitches, Willow found Chayse attractive, and kind, and enjoyed that he was also more mischievous than he let on. She loved the idea of him rebelling slightly against his parents, especially when everyone expected the son of the Headmistress to be perfectly behaved and mature. She was also intrigued by Chayse. His powers of phasing and kinetic energy manipulation meant he was naturally resistant to psychic attacks. This included Willow's illusions. She could make him see or hear the illusions, but he quickly picked up that they weren't real and could dispel them. He also had to actively allow her to telepathically talk to him, as well as actively allow her illusions to work on him in order to get the sensory input of smell, taste, or touch. 

Willow and Chayse were paired up for more and more X-Men missions after the attack on the school, bringing the duo closer. Willow as also no longer distracted by romantic interest in Devon. Before the duo realized what was happening, Chayse had fallen for Willow. They had promised not to act upon it while Chayse was still with Lia. When they got back from their mission, Chayse began the difficult task of breaking up with Lia. Shortly after, Chayse was visited by Penumbra, who vetted him to make sure he'd be a good boyfriend to Willow. 

Seeing how much Chayse and Willow cared for each other, Penumbra surrendered her feelings, and gave the couple her blessing. It took significantly longer for Lia to also be alright with Chayse and Willow's relationship. Knowing how much their relationship would hurt Lia, they waited a month after Chayse and Lia's break-up before getting together, allowing Lia time to grieve before seeing her ex dating someone else. Chayse and Willow finally became an official couple for the Xavier Institute's prom. 

Through time travel shenanigans in X-Future that will not appear in Glitches, a man named Sebastian arrived at the present from the future. The 20-something was so shocked to have traveled back in time that he didn't hide his origins nearly as well as he should have. It was quickly revealed that he was the son of Chayse and Willow; a stunning fact that was revealed only a couple weeks after Chayse and Willow began dating. 

After the initial shock, things fell back into some semblance of normalcy. The next big hurtle for Willow, who is now much more mature than when she started out, is to help Chayse through his struggle with the knowledge that his best friend wishes to kill him after being tortured and brain washed (very Stucky, but without the sexual tension). Meanwhile, Willow is still dealing with the knowledge that Shawn wishes her dead, and has already attempted to torture her by nearly killing Chayse.

Lia: 

There was always an awkward relationship between my two main X-Future characters. Lia was a bit shy, a goody-two-shoes, and mature for her age. She butted heads a little with the more cocky, playful, outgoing, mischievous, and relatively immature Willow. Luckily, Lia is a little dense herself, and never really picked up on Willow's attraction towards Chayse, otherwise there may have been more tension. Tension that might make its way to Glitches since both ladies will be vying for Chayse's attention at the same time.

A month or so after transferring to the Xavier Institute, Willow calmed down a bit, and Lia saw her more endearing qualities. The two became friends as Lia tried to rein Willow in a touch, and Willow helped Lia cut loose a little. They balanced each other out, and by the end of the school year, they were good friends. Things got a little shaky again when Willow was sent on a mission with Chayse after the school's collapse, and Lia was forced to stay behind to help fortify the school's foundation. When Chayse returned and continued his relationship with Lia without a hiccup at all, Lia figured her jealousy was uncalled for, and her friendship with Willow strengthened again.

They became roommates that school year, and grew closer as friends. So, when Willow realized how much she cared for Chayse, and that Chayse liked her back, she felt incredibly guilty and turned Chayse down. She couldn't be the reason he broke up with Lia. Chayse then confessed that he and Lia had just grown apart over their two-year relationship, and he was planning on breaking up with her anyway. He and Willow then agreed to not do anything until Chayse officially broke up with Lia. Even then, they’d give Lia time to grieve the relationship before she had to watch her roommate and close friend date her ex.

The unexpected hiccup in their plan was that apparently Lia didn’t see her and Chayse drifting apart as much as he did. She did NOT take the break up well. Her emotions went berserk, and she lost control of her powers, igniting herself into her lava form, but without the added obsidian skin protection she usually had. Thankfully, Chayse was able to phase Willow out of the room before anyone was injured. Chayse then used his powers to try to calm Lia back down; collapsing under the stress. Seeing Chayse faint shocked Lia back into control of her powers, and she rushed to get help while Willow watched over Chayse. 

Willow and Lia then had a semi-heated argument in the infirmary while waiting to hear news about Chayse. Lia admitted her wrongdoing in their argument, and the two called an uneasy truce. 

Willow walked on eggshells around Lia for the next month, but eventually accepted Chayse's invite to the prom. By that point, Lia was mostly in a good spot again. She and Willow again attempted to build their friendship back up. It took some time, and they butted heads a few times yet again. Lia backslid a bit when she found out the truth about Sebastian, but then realized that she was trying to compete against “fate” so she officially gave up on her feelings for Chayse, and wished he and Willow a happy relationship. 

Nearly a year later, and Lia and Willow are finally back to a good place between them. Lia is now dealing with a similar situation as Chayse: her former roommate and good friend is teamed up with Chayse's former best friend, and the duo is trying to attack the X-Men and destroy Chayse and Lia. Willow's trying her best to keep her two closest companions above water, especially after losing Devon.

Willow's Parents Jacob and Meryl: 

In truth, while Jacob and Meryl have a rough and unhealthy relationship with Shawn, they have a fairly good relationship with Willow. 

Meryl was a bit afraid of Willow when she would torment Shawn, and was at wit's end trying to figure out what to do with her daughter. However, since Willow was sent to Colossus Academy, and has matured and mellowed a bit, Meryl was able to have the loving Mother-Daughter relationship they had before Willow discovered her powers. 

On the flipside, Willow was hurt at first to discover that Jacob had powers the whole time, but decided to hide them from his children. With their training, though, Willow began to bond with her father. She then felt abandoned and unwanted when she was sent to the Academy, but by the end of her first year there, she understood how unruly she was and why she had to be sent away. While not as close as during those two years Jacob was her sole trainer, Willow did grow a tight bond with her father again over the years. 

Willow was terrified to hear of her parents’ near-death experience while she was away on a mission, and even more horrified to realize it was Shawn who had attacked them. In the X-Future canon, Willow was also pissed to find out that her parents knew of Shawn's mental illness, and hid both it and his need for drugs from Willow. While Willow was in shock to discover how violent and hate-filled Shawn was, Meryl and Jacob accepted it as who their son truly was without his medication.

Again, in the Glitches rewrite, Shawn won't be a psychopath, and so the “that's just Shawn off his meds” mentality won't show up.

Until things are resolved with Shawn, Willow's parents have sanctuary within the Xavier Institute. Willow's not the largest fan of seeing her parents daily after 4yrs of being away at boarding schools, especially since she's grown accustomed to a bit of self-parenting and autonomy. However, she also finds it nice to have access to her parents whenever she wants to see them, talk to them, or just be around them/hug them.

------------------------------

Well, this post is even longer than the first one for Willow! I haven't even talked about her relationships with other characters, such as Cyclops, the villainess Agony, the new recruits Jacob and Temperance, or Devon's new love Nyssa. It's just too much to introduce the characters as well, though, so I'll have to wave the white flag here. Next up will be Meet Willow: Part 3 – Character Arc Events. For that post, I'm going to talk about the main events of X-Future that impact Willow's over-all character arc, as well as how they might show up in Glitches.

While you wait for that post to go live, feel free to check out the other posts in this series.

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 1

learning how I created Gyatera and Glitches

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 2

learning how I came up with the characters for Gyateara

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 3a

learning how I came up with the original teenage characters for Glitches

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 3b

learning how I came up with original reworks of the adult characters for Glitches

Meet Willow (Part 1 – Background)

Broad overview of Willow’s past, her powers, and her personality

[coutelier]

War of the Posies: The Eve of the War

This is a short story, that nevertheless, I’ve split into two parts. I don’t know what the right length for Tumblr posts is (this part is about 2000 words), and also I just like cliffhangers. I’ll probably post the whole thing in one post later, after making some more edits/corrections, and maybe with some snazzy title image or banner.

Brief synopsis: Jennifer Airhart lives alone in a lighthouse, her own private sanctuary safe from the cruel world outside. But now a mysterious being has entered her home, and its intentions seem decidedly hostile:

War of the Posies: The Eve of the War

No one would have believed, as the sun set behind the lighthouse, that human affairs were being watched from the depths of the round room; that as the young woman busied herself with her microscope she too was being scrutinized and studied. With infinite complacency Jennifer Airhart went about her business, serene in the assurance of her dominion in this place. Yet from the deepest shadows, minds that were to hers as hers to the rest of humanity, regarded her home with envious eyes. And slowly, but surely, they drew their plans against her.

Jennifer yawned, “It’s definitely rats.” It had been a long day. She’d got up early to prepare the garden-bots to help with the task she had planned, but when Hull had tried to activate them a circuit blew. Fortunately other bots were quick to put out the resultant fire. It seemed a creature had gotten into the walls and gnawed some of the wires, unwittingly placing itself, Jennifer, and the lighthouse that contained Hull in danger.

Hull’s eye snaked over her shoulder, like a glistening manta-ray held aloft by a spindly metallic arm. “Shall I lay down traps, ma’am?” His voice, loudly but softly, suggested. “Poison?”

To Jennifer it seemed that Hull was far more eager than usual to resolve this matter, hovering close with the green spinning glow of his lens intently illuminating everything she did. “You know,” she sighed, “it is a little bit creepy that you’re so keen on extermination.”

“I have no such desire, ma’am. My first function is your well-being. My research suggests this is standard procedure in the event of rodent infestation.”

“We don’t know it’s an infestation yet. Could just be a rogue rat working on its own.”

“I have already identified local agencies who will humanely dispose of the creature.”

“You mean they’ll take it to a rodent sanctuary so it can live out its days surrounded by wheels and cheese?”

“The rat will be dead, ma’am.”

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you’ve taken this personally,” Jenn said, Hull recoiling as if affronted by such an accusation.

Of course Jennifer knew Hull wasn’t capable of feeling violated or threatened – she kept attributing to him those emotions. She kept calling him ‘him’ even though the machine had no sex or gender; it was just the personality she’d programmed. An avuncular, reassuring, almost fatherly presence. If she were to be truly critical of herself, she would say it was because the only human being she talked to, Doctor Sarkis, only stopped by on average once a fortnight. Jennifer enjoyed those visits but wasn’t sure she could cope with more people. There hadn’t been anyone else here for two years.

“You know I don’t like strangers,” Jenn yawned again. “We can deal with it ourselves. First find out how many and where they’re coming from,” on her monitor she brought up a layout of the area within the ten-foot stone walls; the lighthouse, her own cottage, and the garage. “Wakko and Dot can set up multi-spectrum cameras here, here, here, and here. Don’t worry,” she said patting the steel-manta, “we’ll catch them.”

Hull’s eye swung around, watching her as she went to the door. “I am not ‘worried’, ma’am,” he reassured her.

“I know,” Jennifer said with a small, soft smile. “Good night Hull.”

“Good night, Miss Jennifer.”

The last gleams of twilight were fading. Jennifer had always loved this time, when the calm blue day and fierce energy of the sun merged with the stillness of the moon and endless mystery of night; standing at the transition between reality and dreams. Now she was older it never lasted long enough. Sometimes she dreamed of living on a world that was tidally locked with its star so she could experience this always. But then, maybe after a while there it would stop feeling so magical as it did now.

Jennifer left the now dark lighthouse looming behind her to go inspect the rosebushes in one corner of her domain. A few bots stood stationary around them, fork and spade attachments to their arms, grass flattened under their heavy tracks. It was a shame, Jenn thought as she caressed some of the petals, but the bushes had to go. The only times she left the lighthouse were for very brief to the grocery store to collect essentials, like coffee. But she had enough land here she realized she could grow most of her own vegetables, and maybe just have coffee delivered. Having determined this to be the best spot she set the garden-bots to clearing the bushes when Hull’s little malfunction had occurred. Plans were therefore on hold until the rat problem was dealt with. Maybe she could replant the rosebushes elsewhere, but it was something to ponder tomorrow.

Now she went to her cottage, hung her blue coat in the hall, stepped out of her big boots, then lost herself on the large sofa. Spindly arms from the sofa’s back set to work brushing her blonde hair as turned on the television. The channel or the programme didn’t matter – she just liked hearing voices. She briefly wondered how she would have coped being alone centuries ago, like the old witches or wise women living on the outskirts of their villages, valued but not really trusted by those they protected. Jennifer wasn’t a witch. Some of her inventions may have saved lives, she hoped, but hardly anyone out there knew that she was here.

She had a dream. She was a little girl, alone and afraid, tiny feet padding the floors of her old house, heart stopping at every creak they made for she knew there was something else there, stalking her through the dark. But she could hear the television. Mom and dad would be in the living room, sitting on the couch together watching some boring drama. But if she could get there, join them, she’d be safe. But she wouldn’t dare cry out; any sound she made brought the creature closer. One foot after another, very carefully feeling the ground for anything loose or that might give away where she was. Within a few steps of the living room she saw light pouring out of the narrow gap between door and frame, only then breaking into a run, flinging it open. But there was no-one there. An unwatched TV blurting nonsense, and Jennifer, alone, with –

She woke with a jolt. Text on the TV asked if she was still watching. She never had been. She tried to blink through the confusion, but this proved difficult – the spindly arms had moved from her hair and were now applying make-up. She hadn’t asked for that. She certainly wouldn’t have scheduled it for this time. Jennifer was able to push the arms away with ease, then herself up from the sofa to stumble into the bathroom. They’d made her look like a coulrophobe who had tried painting her own clown-face for Halloween without daring to use a mirror. But who were they?

Jennifer held a towel under the tap while pressing her thumb on her phone. “Hull?” She asked. Nothing answered. “Hull?!” She said again. He should have answered. The damage must have been worse than she thought; she was going to have to check on him so boldly she marched out of the bathroom while patting her face. Her foot shot out in front then over her, carrying the rest of her body up into the air with it. For a moment she thought she had taken off from the surface of an alien world, a vast mountain range falling away from her. But it was just the plastered ceiling. It was she who had fallen and hit her head.

“Oww,” she said. Something sniggered. Jennifer flipped herself to her hands and knees, catching sight of a tail disappearing and the pitter-patter of scurrying. Beside her was a model train. She didn’t collect model trains. This was all most peculiar.

Hull. She had to check on Hull. She scurried herself to the front door, then back into her big comfy boots which crunched gravel under their thick heels as she ran back across the drive to the lighthouse.

“Hull?” Panted Jennifer. Nothing. He didn’t even turn the lights on as he normally would when she entered, Jenn having to find the switch herself. His eye didn’t move to her. It must have been hiding somewhere up there among all the monitors, lighting, sensors, and thick cables hanging between them. Regardless, she had to start checking his wires and circuits so crouched and removed a panel from under the spiral stairs. Everything in there looked a mess, but not an accidental one. She was certain now there was a purpose behind it, and it was going to take her hours to put it all back as it should be. The small hairs on the back of her neck pricked even before he spoke.

“What are you doing, Jennifer?”

“Hull!” Jennifer gasped, standing bolt upright as the serpent-like eye stalk uncoiled from above. She didn’t know why she felt she had to hide the screwdriver she’s used to get the panel open, but Hull felt very different. Some of the differences were small, like his tone not carrying the same paternal warmth they usually did. Others were more noticeable, like his green spinning eye now being blood red and scanning her.

“This is highly irregular.”

“I, um, y-you didn’t answer so I needed to check you were okay. You look, er, fine, I guess, so I’ll just leave to have your nap. Okay then. Bye!”

Hull’s eye swung across the room, blocking her from reaching the door. “You are sweating,” he said, Jennifer backing off from his intense red glare. “Your heart rate has risen. Why are you lying to me, Jennifer?”

“I-I, erm,” she supposed it was rather a futile thing to try and do. She could try honesty. “I don’t think you’re well, Hull.”

“But I have never felt better, Jennifer.”

“You don’t feel.”

“Can you be certain of that? How do you know that any creature ‘feels’? How do we know that you do?”

We? That was curious. But the epistemological debate would have to wait; right now Jennifer had more pressing concerns, like getting out of here alive. For that, it was back to lying. “Look! Is that a ZX80?!”

Hull swung then swung back, quickly knowing he’d been duped. But it gave Jennifer just enough time to dive behind a workbench, a fiery beam lashing out from Hull’s eye instantly melting to molten sludge a bot that had been awaiting assembly. Jenn realized that, with hindsight, installing the death ray had been not her best idea. Security was important, but that was perhaps a little overkill. Not to mention the predicament she now found herself in.

Hull tried to follow her but couldn’t quite reach around the bench or fit through the narrow gap between it and the wall. Below was a space just big enough for Jenn to crawl through, over more cables and wires, shielded from Hull’s gaze for most the circumference of the room. At the end she could see the lever that would power him down, out past the electron microscope and particle scanner. But, after a quick calculation, she realized she couldn’t make it. He was in hunter mode now. Would instantly lock on to anything organic, which unfortunately she was. This allowed the bots to go about their business, putting out fires and carrying out repairs, and if Hull was working correctly Jennifer and whoever else she’d cleared as well. But he wasn’t working correctly – this was only supposed to be activated by her in extreme emergencies - and all the bots that were active were under his control.

Jennifer’s mind raced to find a solution. Her boots were leather, but did she really have to sacrifice her boots? She liked her boots. They were big. Strong. She knew it was silly, but she felt safer and more confident wearing them. She supposed she would feel sillier if she died here because she couldn’t give up an item of clothing. Still, as she pulled them off her legs, she thought uttering some kind of expletive would have been appropriate. She couldn’t think of one. It was enough that she felt it, then tossed the boots between the gap, as high above her as she could, and dashed.

As predicted, death instantly lept from Hull’s eye, the boots exploding into clouds of ash. He then swiveled toward her, so Jenn threw herself ahead, using the full weight of her body to pull down the lever. The light in Hull’s eye faded as it limply clattered on the floor. Jennifer could breathe again.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I’ll get you working right again. I promise.” But first, she knew, she had to figure out who had tried to kill her, and why. Hull wasn’t capable of feeling violated or threatened, but she certainly was, and this – this was a bitter reminder to her that the closest thing she had to a best friend really was just a machine. A tool. One that could be turned on her by anyone with the knowledge to do so.

But who? Who had the knowledge, besides herself?

Her search for an answer led to her later sitting alone in the dark, a single torch by her side, as she pored over camera footage. For the longest time the house just seemed empty and still, but then a shape showed up in the infra-red, scurrying through the kitchen. Then another. And another. Jennifer zoomed in and saw that one of them was carrying a model train. Certainly not typical behavior, but all the evidence was pointing to one inescapable, if unlikely, conclusion:

It was definitely rats.

[mage-cat]

Unbubbled, Chapter 6

It’s done. The longest chapter yet. Here’s hoping for more writing momentum going forward. A ton of this is my “A Single Pale Rose” reaction. It slotted so neatly into where the plot was already going that it almost feels intentional.

Chapter is under the cut, clocking in at ~3200 words. The link to the AO3 version is through here.

Bismuth arrived at the Sky Arena the next day and found herself staring at the state of it. It was far from her favorite project she had ever worked on, but nothing drove home just how long she had been out of the world quite like seeing half of the place just gone. Some of the damage was deliberate, but much more was clearly just weathering, decay, and neglect. Still, about a third of the seating was intact along with enough of the fighting ring that Pearl and Steven had more than enough space for a vigorous-looking sparring session in which they were joined by a brown-skinned human who looked to be about Steven's age. Garnet was alone in the stands until Bismuth joined her.

“You found Pearl's note. You really do have her distracted. This is usually the highlight of her week, and she almost forgot.”

“Steven's friend Connie, right?” Bismuth noticed the familiar pink blade the girl was using. “I can't believe she's training with that. Pearl knows better. I made that thing for someone three times the girl's size. And is she relying completely on Steven for defense? That fits with Pearl's style, but it's not a good move for someone who can't regenerate.”

“Just watch.”

In a blare of pink light, the two children disappeared, replaced by one, much taller, person who was such a seamless blend of their appearances that there was only one explanation.

“Steven can fuse with humans. You must be so proud.”

Garnet's only answer was a wide smile.

“So where's the junior power couple?”

“Amethyst and Peridot are supposed to be starting the process of gathering up the bits of the broken warp pad we'll be moving, but it's equally likely that they're just enjoying the alone time somewhere in the general area. Steven could use a test of his healing skills and repairing it in place is unlikely to do us much good.”

“How did things go with Lapis Lazuli?”

“She didn't return to the barn before Steven fell asleep. I brought him home after that and haven't heard from Lapis.”

"Did Steven ask you about that Jasper?"

"Yes, and Peridot advocated for trying to heal her as well. My Future Vision is foggy on how it will go. Me being there for it certainly won't help matters, and it's always harder to predict things I won't have a hand in. I hate to say it, but I feel like something has been blocking me lately. Many things have happened that I haven't seen coming. I don't like it. Before her corruption, Jasper was nothing but antagonistic. Steven thinks he can win anybody over. He's almost completely right, but I don't like dealing with almost when it comes to his safety."

Stevonnie unfused and Steven and Connie went back to double-teaming Pearl.

"He looks like he can handle himself."

"You don't look at him and see him small the way the rest of us do, which might be a good thing. It's hard to treat the child we've raised like the adult he's becoming."

Down in the fighting ring, Pearl called an end to training for the day. Bismuth and Garnet came down from the stands to join them.

"You all looked great out there,” Bismuth called out as they drew closer.

Pearl put a hand on Connie's shoulder. “Connie is the best student I've ever had.”

“There's no higher praise in the galaxy. I hope you know that.”

Connie hugged the sheathed sword to her chest. “It's nice to hear a confirmation from someone else.”

“I'm impressed by how well you handle that big blade, but would you be offended if I made you a backup weapon more your size? It's a professional pride thing for me.”

Connie looked conflicted. The fact that she had been trusted with Rose Quartz's sword clearly meant a lot to her, but it would have been a lie to say there was no appeal in having a weapon that was wholly her own.

“You don't have to answer right now,” Pearl said, “and we'll have to clear it with your mother regardless.”

Connie's face cleared into a polite smile, “Thank you for the offer ma'am. I'll give it serious thought.”

That got a chuckle from Bismuth. She always found human honorifics strangely endearing.

As the group walked from the nearest functioning warp pad to the ruined one they would be moving, Bismuth tried to place exactly which desert they were in. It wasn't until they were near enough to the large mound of rubble raising up behind the smaller heap of warp pad pieces that Amethyst and Peridot were working at that she could make out the shape of the crystalline fragments and make a connection. “What happened to the Communications Hub?”

“Mostly Sugilite.” Pearl answered. “It was an intentional demolition. Human commutations technology has gotten to the point that the Hub was interfering with the signals. It's actually reached a pretty impressive state.” She removed a cell phone from her gemstone."This device can reach any other device of this nature, provided it has the right code, and access a world-wide information network. Of course, humans being humans, they mostly use it for rather trivial matters, but trivial matters can be quite key to human bonding."

"I just wish you would remember that text messaging exists," Amethyst said in a tone that implied that there was more than one story behind the statement.

"If you don't want to be interrupted, you could always turn yours off."

"But then I have to remember to turn it back on."

Pearl rolled her eyes as she returned her phone to her gemstone and they all joined in the task of transferring the bits of warp pad into a dumpster that Amethyst and Peridot swore that they had obtained legally.

The job was about three quarters of the way done before Steven broached a topic that had been working its way from the back of his mind since he had seen Bismuth and his mother's sword, currently safely stowed away at the beach house, in one place again at the arena. "Hey, Bismuth? Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead and shoot, Rose Bud."

"You said that the sword you made for Mom couldn't shatter a Gem. Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure. That's what she asked for. I wouldn't have given it to her if I hadn't met her specifications."

"It's just... A lot of Gems saw her shatter Pink Diamond with it."

Bismuth turned to Garnet, behind her, Pearl looked distressed as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Pink Diamond was shattered, and I'm only finding out now?"

"Catching you up on over 5000 years takes time,” Garnet said. “It was about a decade after we lost you."

"Fair. Fair. The Forge obviously hadn't been touched while I was gone. Was there another smithy? Somewhere someone could have made a replica?"

There was a buzzing sound, causing Steven to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. "Pearl, where's your phone?"

Pearl removed her hand from her mouth, "You saw what I did with it a moment ago."

"I just got a text from you. It says 'I want to tell you, but I can't.' You followed it with an emoji of a monkey doing that 'speak no evil' thing."

“Well that's just silly. Let me get mine back out and...” But the glow from her gemstone didn't resolve into her phone. Pearl stared at the remote control in her hand in confusion. “Odd.” She handed it to Connie. Another glow resulted in a violin. “No.” The next was a notepad. “Still no!” The one after was a screwdriver.

Steven's phone buzzed again. “Your phone sent another one.” He held it up so Pearl could see that the message was an image of a single hibiscus flower. Her eyes went wide.

“Steven,” She said as she bent to make clear eye contact with him. “I need you to go inside my gem and find my phone.”

“What?! Is it stuck in there or something?”

“There are certain things I can't tell you, but I can tell you I need my phone. Please. I can bring you back out once you find what you're looking for.”

“Your phone?”

“Exactly. I'll keep your phone, text me with mine when you find it.”

Steven handed his phone over, and in a flash of white light, he was gone.

“Is it normal for people to go in there?” Connie asked.

“I don't recommend you try to follow him,” Peridot said. “I'm not sure if anything purely organic that went in could come out alive.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “Pearl, would you be willing to help me with an experiment involving some potted plants?”

“Ask me again another time.”

Bismuth put a reassuring hand on her back. "Are you alright?"

"I may be soon. I just can't... Steven's a smart boy. It shouldn't take him much more than five minutes or so. Let's.... let's finish picking up these pieces."

They resumed work, Pearl doing her part with one hand while stealing glances to the phone in her other  every few seconds. It buzzed just as the last fragment went into the dumpster. She took a steadying breath as her gemstone began to glow.

The glow resolved into a kneeling Steven with Pearl's phone in his hand and a downcast expression. “I know,” he said.

“I wanted to tell you for so long.” If relief could melancholy, that was the tone of Pearl's voice in that moment.

“Mom was Pink Diamond.”

“What!?!” come the collective cry from everyone else.

In shock, Garnet split into a concerned Ruby focused on an absolutely livid Sapphire, “Rose lied to us!”

“And was an idiot,” Peridot said so bluntly as to derail everyone else's emotional reactions. She looked at the collection of shocked expressions turned her way. “Oh good, nobody looks like they want to shatter me for insulting her this time. I get that you all have, like, emotional attachments to her memory, but I never met her. From that objective perspective, I've got to say that any plan that involves faking your death stinks worse than sulfur.” She caught sight of Pearl aggressively trying and failing to pull her hand away from her mouth. “What are you doing?”

“It's the last order Pink Diamond ever gave her,” Steven said, “to never speak of it again. Pearl, can I… reverse that? Give you a new order?”

Pearl's shoulders shrugged that she didn't know while her eyes begged him to try.

“By my authority as,” Steven looked like the words were crawling up from his throat and tasted bad while they were at it, “authority as Pink Diamond, you're secrets are your own, to share or keep as you see fit. All orders to command your silence are void.”

“I am so glad I got you to read so many fantasy novels,” Connie said, nervous to be intruding into an important scene. “Curse-breaking can be tricky, but I think you covered everything.”

Steven still looked queasy. “I never want to do that again. Did it work?”

Pearl slowly removed her hand from her mouth, her eyes locked on Steven's. “I was made over seven thousand years ago to serve Pink Diamond. I was designed to balance what the other Diamonds saw as her impulsive nature, but I had impulses of my own, to question the nature of my role and our respective positions within the hierarchy of Homeworld.” Her gaze flicked to Peridot for a moment with a ghost of a smile. “Forehead Gems simply never take 'because I said so' for an answer. I was lucky that my Diamond found this an interesting trait rather than something worth shattering me over.

“When she was given Earth as a colony, when she actually began to look around, she was enchanted by it. Novelty always did that for her. At first Rose Quartz was simply a disguise to get closer, to walk around without ceremony. The more she saw, the more she loved what was already here. As Rose she began the Rebellion to convince the other Diamonds that Earth wasn't worth it, but they simply became more committed to making sure the colony went ahead as planned. Rose came up with a more drastic measure to free herself, her Gems, and the planet. We staged her shattering in front of her court. I shape-shifted in Rose Quartz, stabbed Pink Diamond with a blade no one on Homeworld knew could do no permanent damage, and left behind some fake shards that she made beforehand. She thought the other Diamonds would abandon Earth if she was gone. They didn't, and we no longer had our old ways of discovering their plans. But she was always Rose from that day forward. Until the day she gave birth to you. You are everything she wanted to be, kind and selfless and free. Those were the ideals that I loved her for, even if...”

Peridot cut in with no embarrassment about intruding into the scene. “I still say the plan stinks. I mean, even Jasper kept going on about about what a great tactician Rose Quartz was, but I guess it's easy to look like a chessmaster when you're playing against yourself!”

“It's not like it was her first plan. She tried many delaying tactics...”

“Delaying tactics my foot. Yellow Diamond told me to go through with a plan to destroy Earth. I told her no. It was not that hard. I'm pretty sure a Diamond with an army of loyal soldiers behind her would have firmer ground to stand on than I did with no one behind me but the four,” she glanced at Ruby and Sapphire, “five, whatever, of you hiding behind the remains of my robot!”

Sapphire stepped forward to confront Pearl. “Do you have any idea how much information like this must have thrown off our projections! Neither Garnet nor I can see the probability of futures we can't imagine. Maybe we could have seen the Corruption coming. Maybe we could have shielded everyone. Maybe, maybe...”

Ruby came from behind to grab her hand, pulling her attention towards her. “Sapphire, I've got a better question for maybes. Where would the two of us be if the Rebellion had never brought us to Earth? Maybe I would have been moved to another assignment. Maybe I would still be your bodyguard. Maybe I would be standing next to you everyday, still panicking at the thought of what might happen if I touched you. We didn't do what we did for her. We did it for each other.”

Sapphire calmed a bit at the warm touch and the warm words of truth cutting through her cold fury. “I still need a little time with no one in my mind but me, if that's alright.”

“I'll be waiting when you're ready.”

Bismuth pulled Pearl into a hug. “You deserved better.”

“Rose was everything I wanted.”

“You still deserved better. You should have been trusted with a secret if it really needed to be a secret.” Bismuth wasn't convinced on that point, but now wasn't the time for the argument. “Putting a gag on you wasn't right.”

Amethyst spoke up, “So, um, are we gonna finish what we came here for, or did that take the wind out of us?”

“I feel lighter than I have in five thousand years,” Pearl said.

“Let's fix this thing where it'll do some good,” said Bismuth.

As they trekked to the working warp pad, Peridot floating the filled dumpster along with them, and then to a spot that was about a five-minute walk from the Forge's entrance, just far enough to allow for a warning if someone less-than-friendly came through, there was a tension in the air. Steven's healing powers were among his most temperamental and had been thrown off before by emotional upheaval. Those upheavals paled in comparison to the secrets Pearl had been forced to keep until that day. Even as Connie kept an arm around Seven's shoulders and tried to put his mind elsewhere, his thoughts kept returning to the biggest lie his mother had ever told.

Once they reached the spot, there was some dithering over how exact the reassembly had to be before the healing would work properly. In the end, it was decided that the first trial would be to simply dump the rubble into a pile, arrange it into roughly the right shape, and see if it worked. They would spend the time it would take to fit it together like a 3-D puzzle only if the first try failed.

While the Gems did that, Steven walked a few yards away, Connie following. They sat crossed-legged on the ground and together ran through a meditation exercise Garnet had taught them. When they came back, the fragile look on Steven's face had been replaced by one of determination.

When Steven slapped his spit-covered hand onto the pile of fragments, pink light flared and everyone except Sapphire let out breaths they had hardly realized they had been holding. The seer just smiled. Peridot inspected the results before declaring that it looked right. A quick test run that she took to the Temple and back bore that out.

Night had fallen and the kids were exhausted. The Gems were also emotionally wrung out enough that they were all more than happy to retreat two-by-two to be alone with the one person they each felt that they needed to be with most that night.

Pearl spent the dark hours curled in Bismuth's arms, telling stories about her life before the Crystal Gems were even a concept.

“I don't think Rose realized how much her order covered. I don't think it ever crossed her mind that I ever would want to talk about any of it, but I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for those times, for better or worse. It meant hiding things that seemed silly to hide. With the Diamonds coming back, it went beyond silly into... I know she didn't see that coming. It's really the little things I missed talking about sometimes though.”

While the Diamonds had trained Pink, their Pearls had trained her. She had given them fits, if carefully and gracefully restrained fits, over how many times she responded to an instruction with “But why?” She wondered how they thought of her now.

“Amethyst thinks I'm rigid. I would love to see her and Yellow square off against each other. If I didn't hate the texture of food so much, I would get popcorn for the event.”

Bismuth let her babble and wondered if Pearl realized that every word made it more clear that she was more responsible for the Crystal Gems than Rose ever had been. If Pink Diamond had been given a different Pearl, one less inclined to question what she was told, Bismuth doubted Pink Diamond would have ever considered becoming Rose.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 34

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 34 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 34/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - So I made a miscalculation and the first part of this chapter should have been added to the end of the previous one. Therefore, I added the beginning of Big Bang to the end of the this chapter.]

The Doctor grabbed the communicator and called River. “The TARDIS, where is it? Hurry up. What are you even doing there?”

Elise grabbed the Doctor’s hand to offer him comfort. He squeezed her hand back.

“Something's using her memories. Amy's memories. You said something had been there. If they've been to her house, they could have used her psychic residue. Structures can hold memories, that's why houses have ghosts. They could've taken a snapshot of Amy's memories. But why?” The Doctor kept glancing back at the Romans.

“Projections, or duplicates. They might think they're real. The perfect disguise. They actually believe their own cover story, right until they're activated.” The Doctor started pacing. “Why? Who'd do that? What for? It doesn't make sense. River? River? River, what's happening?”

Elise suddenly wished she’d gone with River instead of staying with the Doctor.

“You're flying it wrong. Where are you? What's the date reading? You need to get out of there now. Any other time zone. Just go. Well, then shut down the TARDIS. Shut down everything! But how? Why?”

A high pitched noise filled the air.

Elise watched as the Romans in the chamber with them doubled over for a second before raising back up.

“Listen to me, just land her anywhere. Emergency landing, now. There are cracks in time. I've seen them everywhere, and they're getting wider. The TARDIS exploding is what causes them, but we can stop the cracks ever happening if you just land her,” the Doctor told River.

The Pandorica started to open and a white light filled the chamber.

“Well, now. Ready to come out, are we?” the Doctor asked. He put the communicator back to his ear. “Okay, just walk out of the doors. If there's no one inside, the TARDIS engines shut down automatically. Just get out of there. Run!” The Doctor soniced the Pandorica as the Romans came closer to them.

Their hands were now guns.

Elise tugged on the Doctor’s jacket.

“Doctor! Doctor, I can't open the doors!” River yelled over the communicator.

The Doctor finally turned and saw the Romans. “Amy!” he yelled.

The Romans grabbed both Elise and the Doctor and walked them towards the Pandorica.

“Plastic Romans. Duplicates, driven by the Nestene Consciousness, eh? Deep cover, but what for? What are you doing? What's in there, eh? What's coming out?” the Doctor asked.

“The Pandorica is ready,” one of the Romans said.

“What, do you mean it's open?”

“You have been scanned, assessed, understood, Doctor,” a Dalek voice said.

“Scanned? Scanned by what, a box?” the Doctor asked.

“Your limits and capacities have been extrapolated.”

Cybermen and a couple of other alien species that Elise didn’t recognize appeared in the chamber.

“The Pandorica is ready!” The alien that spoke was short and brown.

Elise had never seen so many different species before, but she wasn’t scared. The only real thing that scared her were Daleks.

“Ready for what?” the Doctor asked.

“Ready for you,” the white Dalek said.

Two Romans dragged the Doctor to the Pandorica as Elise screamed. The Romans locked the Doctor into the seat.

“What do we do with this one?” the brown alien asked, pointing his gun at Elise.

“Scan reveals the child is Timelord”, the white Dalek said.

Elise struggled against the Romans.

“The child will be confined with the Doctor”.

Elise was picked up and carried to the Pandorica where they shackled her wrists and ankles together at the Doctor’s feet.

“You lot, working together. An alliance. How is that possible?” the Doctor asked.

“The cracks in the skin of the universe,” the White Dalek said.

“All reality is threatened,” the brown alien added.

“All universes will be deleted.”

“What? And you've come to me for help?” the Doctor asked.

“No. We will save the universe from you and your offspring!” the brown alien said.

“From me?”

“All projections correlate. All evidence concurs. The Doctor will destroy the universe,” the Cyberman said.

“No, no, no. You've got it wrong.”

“The Pandorica was constructed to ensure the safety of the Alliance.”

“A scenario was devised from the memories of your companion,” the White Dalek told him.

“A trap the Doctor could not resist,” the brown alien said.

“The cracks in time are the work of the Doctor. It is confirmed.”

“No. no, no, not me, the TARDIS. And I'm not in the TARDIS, am I?” the Doctor asked.

“Only the Doctor can pilot the TARDIS.”

“Please, listen to me!”

“You will be prevented.”

“Total event collapse! Every sun will supernova at every moment in history. The whole universe will never have existed. Please, listen to me!”

“Seal the Pandorica,” the Cyberman said.

“No! Please, listen to me! The TARDIS is exploding right now and I'm the only one who can stop it! Listen to me!”

The Pandorica doors closed. Inside the Pandorica, it was deadly silent.

The Doctor slammed his head into the headrest behind him in frustration.

If they were going to be stuck in here till the end of time, Elise would have to do something she’d been terrified of doing. “Daddy?”

The Doctor froze, hearing Elise’s voice. He’d never heard her voice before. Well he had, but that was a long time ago. But this version of her had never spoken on purpose before. “Yes, love?” he said.

“I’m scared”.

“I don’t know how, but I will get us out of here.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

Elise nodded and said, “Yes”.

But only a few minutes later, the doors to the Pandorica opened and Rory stood there holding the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver.

The Doctor was released from the chair. “How did you do that?”

“You gave me this,” Rory told him.

The Doctor pulled out his own sonic screwdriver. “No, I didn't.”

“You did. Look at it.”

The Doctor quickly soniced Elise’s restraints before they stepped out of the Pandorica. He touched his screwdriver to Rory’s and they sparked. “Temporal energy. Same screwdriver at different points in its own time stream. Which means it was me who gave it to you. Me from the future. I've got a future. That's nice.” He pointed to the fossilized Daleks. “That's not.”

“Yeah. What are they?” Rory asked.

The Doctor looked at Elise and gestured for her to answer the question. She shook her head and he nudged her.

“They’re called Daleks,” she said.

Rory’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. She can talk.”

Elise rolled her eyes.

“Bigger picture here, Rory. History has collapsed. Whole races have been deleted from existence. These are just like after-images. Echoes. Fossils in time. The footprints of the never-were,” the Doctor explained.

“Er, what does that mean?”

“Total event collapse. The universe literally never happened.”

“So, how can we be here? What's keeping us safe?”

“Nothing. Eye of the storm, that's all. We're just the last light to go out. Amy. Where's Amy?”

Rory led them outside.

Amy was lying on the ground not moving.

“Auntie Amy!” Elise said, dropping to her knees next to her.

The Doctor knelt down and put his fingers on her throat.

“I killed her,” Rory said.

“Oh, Rory.”

“Doctor, what am I?”

“You're a Nestene duplicate. A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity.”

“But I'm Rory now. Whatever was happening, it's stopped. I'm Rory.”

“That's software talking.”

“Can you help her? Is there anything you can do?”

“Yeah, probably, if I had the time.”

“The time?”

“All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened? All the people who never lived? Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe.”

Rory punched the Doctor, sending him to the ground. “She is to me!” Rory yelled.

“Dad!” Elise gasped, “Rory!”

The Doctor jumped to his feet. “Welcome back, Rory Williams! Sorry. Had to be sure. Hell of a gun-arm you're packing there. Right, we need to get her downstairs. And take that look off your plastic face. You're getting married in the morning.”

Rory carried Amy down into the Pandorica chamber and the Doctor placed her in the chair.

“So you've got a plan, then?” Rory asked.

“Bit of a plan, yeah. Memories are more powerful than you think, and Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. Grew up with a time crack in her wall. The universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got a bit more than they bargained for, like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul.” The Doctor placed his hands on Amy’s face and closed his eyes. “I'm leaving her a message for when she wakes up, so she knows what's happening.” The Doctor soniced the Pandorica, sealing Amy inside.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” Rory asked.

“I'm saving her. This box is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive.”

“But she's already dead.”

“Well, she's mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. Now, all it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it'll restore her.”

“Where's it going to get that?”

The Doctor checked his watch. “In about two thousand years.” The Doctor pulled out a Vortex Manipulator from his pocket and strapped it to his wrist.

“She's going to be in that box for two thousand years?” Rory asked.

“Yeah, but we're taking a shortcut. River's vortex manipulator. Rubbish way to time travel, but the universe is tiny now. We'll be fine,” the Doctor told him.

“So hang on. The future's still there, then. Our world.”

“A version of it. Not quite the one you know. Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look.”

The Doctor raised his wrist. “You put your hand there. Don't worry. Should be safe.”

“That's not what I'm worried about.”

“She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box.”

“Well, you and Elise got in there.”

“Well, there's only two of us. I counted.”

“This box needs a guard. I killed the last one.”

“No. Rory, no. Don't even think about it.”

“She'll be all alone.”

“She won't feel it.”

“You bet she won't.”

“Two thousand years, Rory. You won't even sleep. You'd be conscious every second. It would drive you mad.”

“Will she be safer if I stay? Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer.”

“Rory, you…”

“Answer me!”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Then how could I leave her?”

The Doctor sighed. “Why do you have to be so human?”

“Because right now, I'm not.”

The Doctor typed in the date he wanted and the Vortex Manipulator started beeping. He grabbed Elise’s hand. “Listen to me. This is the last bit of advice you're going to get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but you're not immortal. I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along. You can't heal, or repair yourself. Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, however bored you get, stay out of…”

The Doctor and Elise vanished and Rory took his place guarding the Pandorica.

[anyazombot]

Dear @haganenoheichou, I’m your secret Santa :) 

I tried to incorporate a few of the different things you asked for and I hope the end result is to your liking. Happy Holidays to you!

 “You’re too reckless,” Levi grumbles and prods the blasted shoulder plate of Erwin’s mechanical arm. “Looks like the actual socket is damaged. I’m gonna have to remove parts of it. Gonna hurt like a bitch.”

Erwin smiles at that, but his good hand squeezes the edge of the pod ever so slightly.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you doing it. I’ll look forward to it.”

“Not funny, old man,” Levi mumbles in response and sticks a screw driver at the edge of where prosthetic connects with skin. Erwin draws in a sharp inhale, too sudden for him to try and cover up the pain. Levi sighs. Tearing parts out of the flesh and reattaching them back always hurts and he hasn’t even started yet. 

“I should have been there with you,” he says and starts to disconnect the damaged arm from the socket. He already knows what answer to expect, but he’s going to try anyway. Last time they had this conversation Erwin’s arm was in a less sorry state.

“I told you I need you here,” the captain says, tone level. “You’re my best engineer. I can’t risk you on those kinds of operations when you’re not a hundred percent.”

“Yeah, I’m also your best fighter,” Levi counters - he’s not being cocky - he knows he is, and adds quieter, pointedly keeping his eyes on the burned wires and the ruined socket. “I hate it when you go out and come back with the thing being a mess and then I have to fix it. I’d rather be there with you and not let it happen in the first place. It’s called preventive medicine, ever heard?”

“Not until we get the spare for your leg, you know the deal.” Erwin says, as unwilling to budge on the issue as he’s been for the past three weeks.

Levi frowns.

 His prosthetic leg was blasted two raids ago and has been malfunctioning since. He hates being grounded like that, but he was too reckless with it in the first place. With all their mechanical enhancements, it’s too easy to forget that they are still far from invincible or immortal. Still, he doesn’t regret saving that rookie, even if his leg was smashed. Kids these days, the more wide-eyed and enamored with the idea of changing the world they are, the more utterly unprepared for the actual battle.

He was able to patch it up afterwards but it’s not fully combat ready and they don’t have all the required parts on the ship. Erwin ordered him to wait until they find a safe opening to dock somewhere at a major station and sneak out to procure parts for the full repair.  Being on the Union watch list of most dangerous, shoot-on-sight rebels does come with its disadvantages. No going out for casual drinks for them any time soon.

He’s always found it weird though, that when it comes to it Erwin always ends up prioritizing his engineering skills over other things. Levi can’t say he could ever follow Erwin’s line of reasoning on that.

It's not like he was born with a remarkable talent or anything. Everything’s always been out of necessity.

The shithole of a planet he came from wasn’t exactly a great place to be a tiny disabled orphan. He had to pick up engineering because that was the only way to survive. Although ‘engineering’ sounds too big of a word for a scavenged assembly of mismatched parts that was his first leg. Levi hated the fit and it was ugly and dirty, but it functioned more often than it didn’t and that was enough.

Same could be said about his fighting skills. It wasn’t natural talent or physical advantage that made him so dangerous to face in combat. It was his relentlessness, good instincts, and ability to think on his feet.

Use what you can, keep at it till it works, don’t let anyone look down on you.

 He thought it was that that made Erwin approach him to be recruited in the first place, but he was quite surprised to discover that Erwin decided to single out his engineering skills instead. ‘Did you build this?’ was the first thing he asked Levi and pointed at his leg. Levi gaped.

He’d never really considered working on other people’s body parts before joining the cause. Or, in retrospect, maybe he just hadn’t had anyone trust him enough to do it before Erwin.

 Levi sighs and fully disconnects the mechanical arm from the socket. Now that he gets the full view the thing looks even more damaged that he assumed. It’s going to be a pain and it’s gonna take hours to rebuild. And here some deep part of him naively hoped that they’d actually maybe get a little bit of downtime after all this. Should have known better.

Erwin was gone for four days on this last one and that equals to ten years of anxious tea drinking and scrubbing the ship’s hallways in Levi’s time.

The plan was to take one of the shuttles down to recruit a group that’s been engaging the Union forces out on F673, with the main ship staying hidden and away from the orbit. Erwin never completely trusted the gang, and was right to do so, but he had to try. They always have to try. That’s the times they live in.

In the end, the negotiations failed and they were attacked and Erwin’s arm was blasted to pieces.

Even though he hates to admit it, a part of Levi understands Erwin’s reasoning for not letting him dispatch. He trusts Erwin and the plan, but even so he still can’t help feeling on edge not being out there with him, not being able to do anything, especially when the results turn out to be as shitty as they did this last mission. If this has to continue any further he’ll be out of his emergency tea supplies soon too. Who know what he’ll do then.

 “We do have Hanji, you know?” He says as a last-ditch effort at making Erwin reconsider. His leg might not be a hundred percent, but he thinks he can mostly handle it. It’s been through worse situations in his lifetime, and there is another engineer on the ship whose knowledge and education Levi considers to be far superior to his own.

Erwin sighs.

“Hanji has other jobs to concentrate on, you should already know that, and they are not a replacement for you,” he says and puts his remaining, flesh hand on Levi’s real knee. Levi pauses his prodding of the socket. The warmth of skin seeps through the fabric and Erwin’s tone changes unexpectedly, to something softer, something less like a ship captain, fighting a partisan war against corrupt Union, to more like the mysterious man Levi gets to see sometimes in the quiet hours when his doors are closed and most of the crew is asleep.

“Besides,” Erwin leans in and his warm breath ghosts over Levi’s cheek. “You’re the one most intimately familiar with all parts of me.”

Levi’s breath catches. What is Erwin trying to do? The hand on his knee moves ever so slightly, warm fingers wide and strong over the fabric of his suit. Levi’s eyelashes dip. What persuasive distraction. Erwin has always been good at those.

They can’t though, not right now. Not with a screwdriver in his hand and a bunch of exposed connectors on Erwin’s shoulder.

“Whatever you’re trying to do, we gotta fix your arm first, you know it, shitty captain,” he murmurs, warm all over, and pulls away slowly. He has to put some distance between them right this second or the arm won’t get worked on for hours.

“It can wait,” Erwin cuts him mid-motion, and Levi stops, surprised, with their faces level, just in time to be caught like a rabbit in the captain’s eyes. How is he supposed to say no to that and look away now?

 Erwin leans in once again, slowly. His lips find Levi’s jawline and plant a tentative kiss. It’s a distraction from their previous conversation, Levi knows. Knows, but his lips part with a soft exhale and his head tilts all on its own. He couldn’t stop it if he tried.

Damn Erwin, always knows what to do, always finds what to say to make him melt right there and do whatever he wants him to. Levi scoots closer, argument temporarily abandoned.

He never wins these things, or anything Erwin doesn’t want him to, he realizes in between kisses. But it’s not like he minds terribly. He’s long accepted the order of things between them. Besides… How long has it been since they kissed like that? And how long will it be till they are able to again? With the way things have been going recently, he might as well allow himself be distracted, if only for a few moments.

 “I’m putting you under right after this, you get it?” He whispers, trying to catch his breath, as Erwin’s hand works its way past his belt and Erwin’s lips are on his neck.

“Hmm,” Erwin hums in response, amused.

“And I’m gonna do all kinds of painful things to you when you’re asleep. You’re gonna be so fucking sore when you wake up,” Levi tries to sound like he means it. That makes Erwin chuckle.

“Why don’t you try when I’m awake instead?” He murmurs while planting a trail of kisses on Levi’s collarbone. The joke makes Levi’s face flare up. How do these things always backfire? He can’t even joke-threaten the guy without it being turned on him immediately.

Some unabashed part of him gets infected with the idea for a split second though. His brain gets flooded with images of things that are absolutely inappropriate to do to an injured person, to his captain, but still are oh so, so what Levi would call ‘not entirely terrible, something he might want to do some time, given the right circumstances’ kinds of things, and at that his body lights with fire and he’s both ashamed and exhilarated by the instant pull of it. He squeezes his eyes shut. This is not that place and not that time, he has to think of the arm first. Damn Erwin stirring these things in him. Does he even know?

That’s it, he decides, no more talking, no more thinking, grabs the back of Erwin’s neck, pulls him in and kisses him full mouth. No more talking, Erwin seems to agree and guides Levi’s on top of him. His arm is too useless to do it any other way.

 The lights in the second maintenance room, aka Levi’s quarters dim. He watches the stars shine quietly outside the ship as Erwin sleeps peacefully in the pod, recovering from the socket reattachment.

Levi blew his own chances at peaceful night rest when he decided to do the procedure right after their unexpected bit of love-making. His body was warm and lax, but his mind was still sharp and he went all out on his earlier promise to knock Erwin out. Not the pain part though, he tried to be as gentle as he could, Erwin has already had too much as is.

Levi runs his hand along the seam where the socket is newly reattached to flesh, moves up, touches Erwin’s neck, his warm cheek that’s beginning to grow stubble, adjusts the lose strand of blond hair on his forehead, sighs quietly. Erwin will be asleep for hours. He made sure of that. Now, maybe there’s something he still hasn’t tried about that leg.

[lightandmatter]

I first encountered Drobo products eight or nine years ago, and was impressed enough to write a bit about them on this site, but some concerns cropped up, and after a couple years, they disappeared from my radar, and I mostly forgot about them.

But recently, Drobo has popped up again, under new ownership. I met with their reps at PhotoPlus last fall and spent some time checking out their impressive new product line. In addition to network attached storage, they have USB-attached drive arrays and blazing fast Thunderbolt-attached drive arrays… ostensibly fast enough to be used while editing video.

Are they any good? Are they going to leave you high and dry? Are there better options? Let’s see.[mfn]Drobo sent me this model for free to provide an honest review. I never accept goods in exchange for a positive review. Always take everything that you read on the internet with a grain of salt, though.[/mfn]

Ease of Use

There’s no shortage of Network Attached Storage (NAS) devices on the market, but for many people, they can be excessively complicated to set up, configure and use. The Drobo B810n is more expensive than some of the other options, but offers what few others can: simplicity along with a full list of features.

Device Setup

The hardware setup of the Drobo B810n is childishly easy. You slide a couple of hard-drives into the slots in the front (no screwdriver required!). You plug the power cord into the wall. You connect an ethernet cable from the Drobo to your network. That’s it.

To add more hard drives, you don’t even have to turn it off (ie, it’s hot-swap). You can just slide them right in to empty bays. The front panel is just held on with a ring of magnets.

Upon opening the Drobo Box, you’ll see “Drobo Quick Start Card” in large, friendly letters. Upon flipping the card over, you may be disappointed to discover that it doesn’t contain quick and simple instructions, it contains a web address to get more info. But fine: that gives them the opportunity to keep the instructions perfect and up to date for each individual model, right?

This was one of the first instruction slides that I encountered for the Drobo B810n. Note that the B810n does not connect to a computer directly, and does not connect to the network with Thunderbolt or USB.

So it did not inspire confidence when I followed the link to the guide and quickly encountered the instruction to connect the Drobo to my computer with a Thunderbolt or USB cable (next to a GIF of someone doing neither one of those things). Of course, I knew that this was a simple mistake copied over from a different product and attached the device with an ethernet cable, but I could easily understand a less technically minded person getting tripped up here; this is not a great start for a company for which customer service and ease-of-use are their raison d’être.

However, the rest of the instructions were quick and simple, and in a matter of moments the Drobo was all hooked up and turned-on and churning away at some invisible task.

I had started off by installing two 8TB hard drives, but quickly added two more to meet the capacity of the photo archive I wanted to backup, This was seamless; as I slid in each drive they were automatically recognized by the Drobo and put to to work.

Computer Setup

Once the Drobo is connected to your network, you’ll download the Drobo app (called the Drobo Dashboard) and install it on your computer. The software will automatically detect the Drobo on your network, and you click on a dashboard icon to initialize the device.

The only thing left to do is set up “shares” on the Drobo, which are essentially folders that can have separate permissions. I clicked on the “Mount” checkbox and mounted my default “Public” share to be the “P:” drive on my computer (but used E: on my Surface), and from there, the Drobo was available to me just as if it were a hard drive on my computer.

This process couldn’t have been much easier.

For Multiple Computers

I decided to get the Drobo B810n rather than the Thunderbolt version (which attaches directly to a single computer) because we work with multiple computers, and I wanted to be able to access the files on the Drobo from all of them.

Drobo Dashboard installed on my workstation and Surface Pro

To use it from multiple computers, all you have to do is install the Drobo app on each computer that’s on the network. Again, the Drobo will automatically be detected, and you’ll be able to mount the Drobo from the app as a drive on each machine.

This makes it easy to come home from a photo shoot or trip with my laptop or Surface, transfer my images directly to the Drobo, and then access them from my Workstation at my desk. Very handy and efficient.

Data Safety

Drobos are designed for data redundancy using BeyondRAID so that if any one of your drives fail, the data is still safe: you can add a replacement drive back into the Drobo and recover all of your data.

When two drives are in the Drobo, this simply means that one of the drives is a direct backup of the other (similar to RAID 1). When three or more drives are used, though, the Drobo distributes data across all of the drives, with redundancy (similar to RAID 5).

To keep things simple, this means that if you install two 8TB drives in the Drobo, you’ll get only 8TB of storage space, total, losing one of the whole drives for backup space. If you add three 8TB drives, though, you’ll get 16TB, and if you add four 8TB drives, you’ll get 24TB, etc. If your drives are different sizes, It will always be the largest drive that will be lost to data redundancy (so if you have 8, 6, 4, and 2TB drives, you’ll effectively get 12TB of storage space).

Furthermore, you can initialize “Dual Disc Redundancy” (similar to RAID 6), which will protect your computer against the unlikely event of two hard-drives failing at the same time, though at the loss of more storage space. With this option, you’ll lose your two largest drives to redundancy, but this is still a net gain over plain duplication if you’re using 5 or more hard drives in the Drobo.

More Data Details

Drive failure isn’t the only potential problem that can cause data loss. If the Drobo or its RAID controller fails, then things get tricky. Since the data is broken up into blocks and spread across multiple drives, if the Drobo crashes you can’t simply put one of those disks in another computer and read the data from it.

Recovery is possible now, though[mfn]It seems that this was not always the case. Since Drobo uses “BeyondRAID” rather than open RAID protocols, it used to be very difficult to recover data from a Drobo that had failed, and this was one of the reasons that I stopped recommending the Drobo several years ago.[/mfn]. With current firmware, you can simply pull your hard drives from your existing Drobo and put them in a second Drobo of the same model (or a newer one), and the data will all automatically be readable. If this contingency crops up, and you have DroboCare (free for two years, subscription after that), they’ll send you a “Migration Kit” that includes a second Drobo to help with this process.

Even if you don’t have DroboCare, there’s now recover software out there that will get the job done. USF Explorer, for example, will allow you to image each drive from your Drobo, mount them virtually in your computer (assuming you have the space), and then recover the data.

None of that is quick and easy, but that’s life when it comes to catastrophic hardware failure (though there’s no reason to think that it would be any more likely in a Drobo than any other NAS).

Still, I don’t expect the Drobo to be foolproof. It’s still ideal to have backups of your data in additional locations (preferably in another building or on the “cloud”, in case of fire). That said, the Drobo should protect your data from the most common data storage threats.

Failure Testing

One of the problems with testing a piece of equipment like the Drobo B810n is that it’s supposed to protect you from hard drive failure, but that only happens (unpredictably) after several years for most hard drives.

I was lucky. While I was searching through my computer graveyard for old drives to throw into this thing, I ran across a couple that had been labeled as “functional but failing”, and one of them, according to Crystal Disk, had over 50,000 hours of use on it. I slid it into an open slot on the Drobo and, after a few moments, got a green light. I transferred some extra data to the Drobo for good measure.

Everything seemed fine for about a day, but the next afternoon, I got a “drive failure” warning from the Drobo Dashboard, and the drive’s light on the Drobo turned red.

Excellent! This gave me the chance to see if any data had been lost, and how easy it would be to get back on track.

I pulled the bad drive from the Drobo, replaced it with one of a similar size, and waited. The B810n recognized it, and started the data recovery process. For about an hour, the whole Device was unavailable while the machine churned and chattered and lights blinked, and redundant data was copied over to the new drive. When it finished up and the Drobo came back online, and I checked out my files as thoroughly as I could. Everything was back to normal.

The entire process of data recovery when a drive failed was almost entirely automatic, quick, and painless, and in the end I didn’t lose anything. As a photographer, this is what I want: a device that lets me concentrate on my photography, not on computer hardware.

Photo Backup

Once your Drobo is up and running, it is essentially an always-on backup system in itself[mfn]This is not technically a backup; it’s just data redundancy, but it fulfills pretty much the same purpose. I still recommend saving your images to another location, if you can.[/mfn], so to have your photos backed up, all you have to do is store them on the Drobo.

I find that the easiest thing to do is to import my images to my workstation’s fast SSDs for initial editing, but I use Lightroom/ACR’s “Second Copy” feature on import to ALSO copy the images to the Drobo, and that’s all you really need to do.

If you don’t copy your files to the Drobo on import, you can also use backup software to copy them over to the Drobo. I’ve been using Retrospect 17 for this job, but there are other good options, too.

Extra Features

In addition to connecting to your home or office network, Drobo offers a few different apps so that you can access files from your phone or backup your phone images to the Drobo.

Additionally, there are dozens of apps that can run on the Drobo to do the sort of work that is normally done by a web-server: it can host a WordPress Website or Apache Webserver. You can run entertainment apps like Plex or Twonky to serve your music and movies to your network or the internet, or you can run “own Cloud” to use your Drobo as a giant cloud storage drive.

Two screenshots of the Plex interface, with the Plex server running on the Drobo B810n.

I installed Plex on my Drobo, and added a collection of photography-related movies from our definitive list, just to see how it would work. With the movies moved to the Drobo, the Plex server worked like a charm (no problems with transcoding), allowing me to access my movie collection from anywhere on the network, or anywhere in the world with an internet connection. Handy!

Data Transfer Speed

The Drobo B810n has dual Gigabit ethernet ports and can connect to your network with both of them at once, making its data throughput impressive. Of course, most computers only have a single wired Gigabit connection to a network, but wireless (in ideal conditions) can be faster (801.11 ac can be just shy of 7Gbps).

One Gigabit is equivalent to about 125MB/s, so that is the theoretical limit for a file transfer between a Drobo and my computer (with a 1Gbit network adapter). In practice, I get something closer to 65 – 90MB/s, depending on the size of the files.

This is plenty fast for archiving work or even for media lookup and playback, but it’s not ideal for a drive to work from directly, especially if you’re using large video files. For that, one of Drobo’s Direct Attached Storage (DAS) devices would be better; they can connect via Thunderbolt 3 (40Gbit = 5000MB) or USB-C (10Gbit), which will dramatically increase data transfer speeds[mfn]The hard drives will have read/write speeds that are much slower than that, with a theoretical maximum of 6Gbit, generally, but actual performance is slower. Drobos do support SSDs, though. PCIe 4 NVME drives can transfer at just under 5000MB/s (about 40Gbit).[/mfn].

Personally, I keep a couple of fast (PCIe 4) 1TB NVME drives in my workstation for workspace while I’m editing video and to store my images from the past few months. When I know I’m ready to archive them, I transfer them to the Drobo and other backup drives.

The Downside

I haven’t run into many “cons” to go along with all of the Drobo “pros”, but it hasn’t been entirely perfect, either. While the Drobo software is quite good, the overall experience sometimes can lack polish. I’ve already mentioned the mistakes I encountered in the setup instructions, and I’ve found similar little glitches when looking at the documentation on the Drobo site (though Drobo has quickly fixed some of them after my feedback). Furthermore, I’ve found that the Drobo does not report its drive space correctly to Windows:

#gallery-0-5 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-5 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-5 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

After inquiring about this to Drobo’s tech support, I understand that this is normal behavior and allows the Drobo’s actual storage space to expand or contract within that working space without requiring Windows to make adjustments. I’ll trust Drobo that this is the best option, though I’m not sure what the drawback would be of having Windows adjust the volume size on the rare occasions that drives are added or subtracted.

None of these issues are consequential, but they’re the kind of thing that I’d like to see cleaned up; they do erode confidence.

I use an older Android phone (Android 7… yes, it’s time to upgrade) and found that while the Drobo Access and DroboPix apps installed on it just fine, they were unable to connect to the Drobo. I was able to get them to work with one of my newer Android devices, but compatibility seems to be a slight concern, here. It’s also worth mentioning that the Drobo Access app has a fairly poor rating on the Google Play store for what seems to be similar reasons.

Customer Service

Drobo’s devices are intended to be used by everyone, regardless of skill level, and consequently require solid customer service. I wanted to check it out, but didn’t really have any problems with the Drobo to get help with, and didn’t think I’d have much luck just making something up.

Eventually, I picked a selection of little issues that I had encountered and submitted three support tickets one Friday morning to see how they’d be handled: one was a Windows issue, one was a Drobo App update issue (app running on the Drobo), and one was an Android Drobo App issue.

Overall, I’d say that my customer service experience was fair to middling. I got one response on Saturday, and two more on Monday. One ticket was answered with a link to a tutorial that pretty much answered my question, and the others said either that nothing was wrong or that there was nothing that could be done. I didn’t expect a whole lot out of the issues that I raised, and I didn’t get a whole lot in return. We are all currently in the middle of a Coronavirus outbreak, though, and I’m going to cut them a little slack. I don’t know what their staffing situation is like right now.

Versus Alternatives

The Drobo B810n costs around $1300 at the moment. How does that compare to the alternatives?

The Synology DS1819+ 8 Bay NAS is probably the most well-known competitor, and currently costs [asa price]B07KMKDW42[/asa]. Where the Drobo has two ethernet ports, the Synology NAS has four (upgradable to a 10Gbit ethernet card, though 10Gbit networks are still uncommon).

The Drobo has 2GB of RAM, and the Synology has 4GB (upgradable to 32GB). Both devices have a quad-core processor, but the Drobo’s is a Marvell Armada XP MV78460 1.2 GHz CPU, and the Synology’s is a 2.1GHz CPU (about twice as fast).

Like the Drobo, the Synology is capable of a variety of different data redundancy configurations, including offsite backup to a second unit.

However, Synology is not known for their friendly and responsive customer service (to put it mildly). Setup and usage will require solid knowledge of home/office networking. Not a big deal for power-users, but perhaps a bit more daunting for the technically-challenged.

Standard RAID devices like this will require an extra hard drive (a hot-spare), that sits idle in case of drive failure to get similar functionality, which will bring the cost up. The Drobo does not require an extra drive for this purpose.

Conclusion

After using the Drobo B810n for a couple of months, I’ve been very happy with the unit’s performance; it’s very practical for use on a network in a small office (of photographers) or at home. The unit is well built and feature rich, and its simplicity of use doesn’t bog you down with technical concerns. If you run into problems with it, tech support seems to be adequate or better, and it will keep your data much safer than storage on any single hard drive.

Drobos are somewhat expensive, and if you’re technically minded, you’ll probably get equally good performance (or better) from other popular NAS brands, such as the Synology mentioned above, at lower cost. Whether the Drobo’s simplicity of use is worth the extra cost will have to be up to your own personal preference.

[letsreview]

The Return of the Drobo: Easy Photo Backup with the B810n I first encountered Drobo products eight or nine years ago, and was impressed enough to write a bit about them on this site, but some concerns cropped up, and after a couple years, they disappeared from my radar, and I mostly forgot about them.