#twitchy!marvel

[age-of-moonknight]

Variant cover for Vengeance of the Moon Knight (Vol. 2/2024), #2 by Dotun Akande.

[shironezuninja]

I’d rather be horny than pay attention to the TV.

[kclovesart]

Is anyone else imagining that scene from Hoodwinked? Where Wolf gives Twitchy coffee?

Also, I kinda want to see Tom Holland and Chris Hemsworth race now.

Coffee

Tony on his 5th cup of coffee by 6am: FRIDAY run the diagnostics again Pepper walks in with two cups of tea Pepper: Tony, you should really lay off the coffee, how many cups have you had in the in the past hour? Tony: 4 F.R.I.D.A.Y: 5 Mr Stark Pepper: See Tony, you have a problem Tony: I don't have a problem Pep, I just like coffee. It's better than you and your tea Pepper: There is nothing wrong with tea. It has health benefits Tony: It still had caffeine and you're addicted too Pepper: I am not! Tony scoffing: Yeah right, you keep telling yourself that Peter, walking through the door: Good morning Mr Stark, Ms Potts Tony: Morning Pete Pepper: Good morning Peter Tony: Hey kid, settle something for us will ya, Pep thinks tea is better and I think its coffee, which is it? Pepper: You can't keep using him to get your way Tony, he always sides with you Peter: I haven't had either Tony & Pepper: Ever? Peter: Nope, May never let me Tony: Well today's the day kid, prepare for your whole world to change Pepper: Don't you think you're being a little dramatic, Tony? Tony: Not at all, I'll never forget the first time I had coffee. I bet you still remember your first cup of tea Pepper: Well, yes but- Tony: But nothing, here kid try this Tony hands a mug of coffee to Peter and he takes a big gulp Peter: Bleugh! I'm sorry Mister Stark but that's awful. How do you drink it everyday? Tony: You get used to it, eventually it burns off a lot of your taste buds Peter: I don't think that's right Pepper: Yeah Tony, that doesn't sound healthy Tony: Pfft! It's fine, both of you worry too much Peter starts to feel the effects of the caffeine and his eyes go wide Pepper: Tony, I think something is wrong with Peter Tony: Nothings wro- Oh, thats-thats not good Peter: No Mr Stark, I feel amazing! I bet I could beat Captain Rogers in a race, I'm gonna go find out. Bye! Peter ran out of the lab and down the stairs Pepper glares at Tony for a moment Tony: Alright I'll go Tony enters the elevator but by the time the doors open on the common room floor Peter is already there practically jumping off the walls Peter: Mr Captain Rogers America Sir, how fast can you run? Steve, looking slightly concerned: Pretty fast kid, uh you okay? Peter: Yeah yes totally fine super fine! Wanna race? Steve: I don't think that's a good idea, where's Tony? Peter: He's in the lab, no the elevator, no I think he's around the corner Thor walks through the door and smiles brightly as he sees Peter Thor: Young Spiderling! How have you been? Peter: I'm good Mr Thor. How are you? How was space? How is Asgard? Did you fight any big aliens? Or scary monsters? Thor: Oh I have much to tell you. As soon as Heimdall sent me to Asgard on the Bi-frost I was met with a ginormous and fearsome beast- Peter: That's so cool Mr Thor! I was wondering, can you run fast? Thor: Yes, very Peter: Great! Do you wanna race around the tower and see who wins? Thor: That sounds like fun, let us go! Thor and Peter ran off, out through the door and around the tower right as Tony walked into the room Tony: Where are they going? Steve: They're racing around the tower. Is everything okay with him? He seems a little off Tony: He had his first sip of coffee Steve: You gave that kid coffee? What's wrong with you? Tony: I admit that I may have made a mistake Steve: May?! Tony: Okay, I did make a mistake Suddenly Peter comes flying back into the room Peter: Oh hey Mr Stark! Did you know I can run faster than Thor? Thor runs though the door and stop with his hand on his knees, panting Thor, breathlessly: Y-you are a v-very fast run-runner Tony: That's it, you are NEVER having coffee again Peter: But I love coffee! It's amazing! Thor: What is coffee? Tony: No, nope, nu uh, not again!

This was inspired by a post from @anyaharveyii thank you for the inspiration, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like it.

@everyonesfriend I think you might like this!

Tags:

@impetusofadream @goldfishthegr8 @avengers-official-recruit-agent @goreygirl03 @xenasolos @sparklyturtlefox @rios-sythe @nekoannie-chan @ilovemarvel12 @hayneyney @n3ponen @8812-342

[drabbles-mc]

Invisible Silver Linings (1/7)

Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader

Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations

Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.

Chapter Index

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: i know i haven't written for Marvel in a while, but i started working on this lil series the second i left the theater on Thursday. it's so nice to see Lewis Pullman getting the creds he deserves. 🥰anyway!!!! I've finished this series and will be posting updates on a weekly or twice-weekly basis until it's all up here and good to go. please let me know what you think!

“They've been taking us in batches,” you told him. You hadn't even bothered to introduce yourself to him, but from the moment they brought him into the room with the rest of you, he'd been looking around, a little twitchy and on-edge. You supposed that you couldn't really blame him. It was a strange position that you were all finding yourselves in. Then again, you had all chosen to sign up for it.

He turned and looked at you, eyes wide and worried at the same time. “Wh-what?”

You nodded in the direction of the doors on the opposite end of the room, not the ones that he had just walked through or anyone else either. One set brought you in, another set brought you out. You had yet to see anyone come back into the room after they left, and while there were plenty of things that that could mean, you wondered if it was the worst case scenario that had crossed your mind before. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn't going to take him long to think of that worst case scenario either.

“The doctors. Scientists. Whatever you wanna call them,” you gave up on titles with a shrug, “have been taking people in batches.”

His mouth dipped into a frown as he took in what you said. He looked around the room that the two of you were in, looked at all of the other people who were in there with you. No one looked very happy to be there even though, if their situations were anything like yours, they had signed off on being here. Not that you looked ecstatic either, so maybe you shouldn't judge. You were just tired. And uncomfortable. All these people stuffed into this room and they couldn't find better seating arrangements? At least the clothes they were forcing you all to wear were comfortable, even if they weren't exactly fashionable. Sure, they kind of made you feel like you were in an asylum of some kind, but they were baggy and soft so it could’ve been worse. The new guy looked like he was close to swimming in his.

He looked around long enough to realize that most people were sitting. There were limited chairs and tables, but you clearly hadn't let that deter you as you found a pocket of space on the floor to sit on. Not quite in the corner but you were far enough off to keep an eye on most of the people in the room with you. The entry door was also close by, and while you didn't have any plans or desire to make a break for it just yet, you figured that it might end up being your best bet if it came down to it. Staring down at you, he watched as you rested your head back against the wall behind you. Your legs were bent at the knee, and your arms were draped over the top of them. Whatever it was that he saw in your facial expression must've been just safe and inviting enough for him to decide to sit down next to you.

It wasn’t a graceful descent on his part, but he didn't fall on top of you. He was closer to you than maybe a stranger should've been in a place like this, but he didn’t seem like he even noticed. He crossed his legs, hands resting in his lap as he looked back and forth between you and the room around you. Something about the way he was sitting, the look on his face, he looked a little bit like a boy stuck in a man's body. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who should be signing up for sketchy medical trials that bring you to undisclosed places.

You would've been content to sit there in silence until it was your turn to get called, but apparently you were alone in that sentiment. “I'm Bob, by the way,” he said, sounding more sure of himself than he had the first time he spoke to you.

When you turned to look him in the eye, you found him already waiting and watching, an expectant look on his face that only added to the little aura of innocence around him. You figured one good turn deserved another if the two of you were going to be stuck together for now, so you gave him your name in return. He smiled at the sound of it, giving a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

“I think you're the first person I've talked to since I got here,” you told him.

He tilted his head, brows furrowing in thought. “When did you get here?”

Looking up at the ceiling, you thought about it for a moment. Being in this strange, mostly empty room that had no windows for natural light had already messed up your sense of time even though you hadn't been there that long yet. “Day before last.”

His eyes widened again. “And they still haven't taken you?”

You chuckled. “You should've seen how many people were in here. I think that's why they're doing…whatever they're doing, in batches.”

“How are they choosing people?” he asked, looking now at the small clusters of people who were still waiting. Some people were keeping to themselves, much like you had been before Bob showed up and decided to switch things up on you.

Letting your eyes close while your head was rested back, you shook your head. “No clue. I don't work here.”

He let out a quiet laugh at that. “Right. Sorry.”

Even though you weren't looking at him, choosing instead to stare at the backs of your eyelids, you could still feel the nervous energy that was radiating off him. If he kept this up, he was going to tire himself out before he even got to the hard part. If he couldn’t handle waiting, there was no way that he was going to be cut out for whatever was waiting on the other side of the exit doors. You didn’t have any words of comfort to offer him, mostly because you had no idea what the hell was really going on yourself. Something told you, though, that it wouldn’t take very long for him to pick up another topic of conversation. Wouldn’t take long for him to start asking more questions that you wouldn’t have any answers to.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he said, “Anyone say what exactly it is that they're doing?”

You didn’t open your eyes. “Nope.”

When he spoke up again, his voice was softer, almost like he was afraid for anyone to hear what he was saying. “I hope it works.”

That got you to crack one eye open so you could give him a bit of a sideways glance. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead his stare was fixed on the hem of his pants. He'd found a loose thread and was starting to pick at it.

“What'd they tell you?” you asked.

You wondered briefly if his eyes would ever end up getting stuck wide like that. “What?”

Turning your head to face him in earnest once more, you elaborated. “What'd they tell you they were doing? What'd they offer you to do this?”

His expression dampened, and suddenly it was like he couldn’t meet your eyes. His focus shifted back to the thread. He was shaking his head, and something told you the action wasn't directed at you, but rather at himself. “They said that they could make me great. They…they could make me better.” He found it in himself to look at you, and it was then that you could see how glassy his eyes had gotten. “I really wanna be better.” He sniffed, blinking a few times to beat his tears back into submission. Giving his head and shoulders a small shake, he tried to get himself sounding normal again as he asked, “Wh-what'd they tell you?”

“Something similar.” The point of your elbows dug into the tops of your knees as you dropped your head into your hands. Raking your fingers back along your scalp, you rested with your head down for a moment before looking at Bob again. “I'm not really looking to be great. I just,” you shrugged, “it can't get much worse for me so I figured why not?”

The genuine sadness on his face shocked you. All those feelings for someone who was a complete stranger to him. “Oh. I'm sor—”

You waved him off before he could finish the apology. “Don't be. Not like any of it was your fault. Besides, we both still ended up here regardless,” you made a brief gesture to the room, “so what the fuck does it really matter?”

There was a thoughtful frown on his face as he considered your words. “Right.” Quiet filled the space between you again. You could only try to venture a guess at what Bob was thinking about. Probably everything that led him here—that's what you'd spent most of your time thinking about, anyway. Wondering if this was the right choice or not, not that there were many other choices at your disposal anyway. No use in regretting it. You were here in your pajama uniform with Bob and dozens of other people whose names you hadn't bothered to try and learn. This was what you had now. There was nothing more to it than that.

Marvel Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!): @garbinge @artemiseamoon @late-to-the-party-81 @blackhawkfanatic

[cakypa120]

The time of adults has passed. The time of young heroes.

Dick notices everything. Bruce has been twitchy and darker than usual lately. The man's gaze has become heavier and more piercing. He also began to disappear into the Batcave. Dick goes into the files and freezes. It was a clear plan to save Captain Marvel. This is unexpected. Dick calls a family meeting and they all hack into the security cameras in the Watchtower. They see and hear things they did not expect.

Dick: Now I know why he thanked me when I first met him. Shit. Shit. Shit!

Tim: Why did we attack him? How did we kill him? Did we get data on his weakness?

Jason: I want that notebook.

Damian: I don't believe John and I are capable of cruelty.

Stephanie: You're right. You're the only one who's cruel, John's one of the few who can keep you in line.

Cass: Is he...mad at us?

That question makes everyone think. Was this overly cheerful man mad at them? How could he even smile in their faces when he remembered everything they'd done? How?

Tim sends this video to all the young heroes. Their reactions are different, some don't believe it, some quietly panic, some scream that they won't do it, some deny it. But everyone calms down and makes a decision.

Be nice to Marvel!

They don't want him to associate them with their versions. So that he doesn't look at them and remember everything that killed him. But they also want him to forgive them. To some extent. They knew that those versions weren't them, but the guilt was still there and they couldn't stop thinking about it.

Unfortunately, Marvel notices everything.

Marvel: You found out about my notebook?

Dick: It's that obvious?

Marvel: Yeah. Let me guess, hacked the cameras?

Dick: Yeah.

Marvel: I'm not surprised.

Dick: Are you mad at us?

Marvel: No. I was never mad at you. I was mad at myself. For not being able to stop it, for you having to do it. The Titans and Young Justice were the only ones who hesitated to kill me. I wanted to help you somehow. I'm not mad and I don't blame you. Dick, you're great people and the best heroes I've ever known. Trust me, I've seen a lot of heroes.

Dick: Why did I kill you in the past reality?

Marvel: The League and Batman's rift led us to this situation. You and your brothers were caught in the crossfire. B still found a way to take me out. I'll say it again. Your version did a great job. There's no pain at all. *Marvel puts his hand on the Dick's shoulder* You're not your version. You'll never be them.

They calm down a little, but curiosity is a terrible thing, and if you mix it with guilt, you get a very strange cocktail.

Conner felt like shit. Maybe he had killed Marvel once. The one who had replaced his father, the one who had not turned away from him, the one who had become his family. The clone wanted to know why he had killed him, why he had killed his unofficial father.

Conner: Marvel, I want to talk to you.

Marvel: Sure, what do you want to talk about?

Conner: How...I...

Marvel: Killed me?

Conner: *Nods*

Marvel: Sivana teamed up with Luther. You and your friends were captured, I volunteered to help you, but Sivana incapacitated me. Then Luthor gave you a choice, either me or your team.

Conner: So I...

Marvel: You shot me yourself.

Conner: I couldn't! I would never do that! You... You... *tears welling up in his eyes*

Marvel: *hugs Connor* I know, man, I know. You didn't want to kill me, you believed that we would win, that we would find a way out of this. But I know Sivana, I know Luthor. There was no way we could all get out of this together. Someone would have stayed in that lab forever. I'm not mad. I have never been angry.

Conner starts to cry. Billy's heart breaks from the sound of crying. Then he couldn't hug Conner, that he pointed a gun at him. The guy asked for forgiveness so many times, for Marvel not to be angry. Billy wanted to hug him so much then, but the chains held tightly, slowly sucking the strength out of him. Billy hugs this Conner tighter, as if protecting him from all the bad thoughts.

Then the nightmares appeared. In all of them, they saw how they personally killed Marvel. It bothered them, they could not sleep normally, it exhausted them and then they often made mistakes on missions. Bart almost got stuck in the wall, Tim almost blew himself up when he was defusing a bomb, Wally could not concentrate on explaining the mission.

Then there comes a day when Bart almost dies because he's too tired. And that day, Captain Marvel is watching over them. So Bart is called in for a one-on-one talk.

Marvel: Impulse! What's wrong?

Bart: Sorry, I just haven't slept enough.

Marvel: You look like you haven't slept in days.

Bart: *Nervous laugh* What makes you think that? I sleep well. Really well, in fact!

Marvel: Bart. Please be honest with me. What's going on.

Bart: I didn't...I didn't...

Marvel: Bart...

Bart: I killed you! We've killed you! So many times! Why aren't you mad? Why do you keep smiling at us? Why are you so cute? We're... I'm...

Marvel: Are these the questions that keep you awake?

Bart: No, the nightmares. I see myself killing you. It always...it always hurts so much.

Marvel: *sighs* I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I'm not mad at you. I never have been. You're good heroes and great people. And I'm guessing the rest of you have nightmares, too, huh?

Bart: *nods*

Marvel: Then call me. I'll be there. Wherever you are. Okay? Will you tell the others?

Bart: *nods quickly*

Bart runs away, and Marvel watches him go. From then on, the young heroes began calling Marvel after another nightmare. Marvel stayed by their side and answered their questions, repeating over and over that he was not angry with them. Sometimes they had sleepovers, where Marvel was used as a big pillow. Billy even convinced Sandman to give these poor kids good dreams more often, where everyone is happy.

Billy just hopes that they can overcome this.

The sword of Damocles hung over Billy. And the only question was.

Who will cut the rope?

[cup1d5bow]

Warnings!! Oral (F&M receiving) praise. Overstimulation, they fuck in haithams office. Mating press. Reader is wearing a dress for plot sake. Pussy job and no protection (wrap it b4 u tap it pls) creampie. Oh and a bit of a dacryphila kink, if u rlly rlly observe.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

He never thought he was special to you.

You who were always so kind and helpful to everyone.

You who always smiled at him and made butterflies erupt in his stomach.

You who conveniently happened to be the grand sages secretary.

You who was now his (temporary) secretary.

You who was now sucking his dick under his desk.

You were so pretty, those pretty little tears running down your face, drool falling onto his thighs as you fruitlessly try to take all of him in your throat.

God it felt better than he dreamt it would. Truthfully he was looking at you. For so very long he had one hell of a crush, that developed into full blown feelings. That somehow led to him with his fist wrapped around his cock at the thought of you late at night.

He never knew you thought of him like that as well, he never knew all those lingering touches and delicious homemade lunches were special.

I mean how was he supposed to know? You were as sweet as honey to everyone.

And besides he was way too socially awkward to even bring up such a topic.

But when you came to him fidgeting and unable to meet his gaze as you confessed your love to him, he almost cried out of joy.

Now one happy kiss turned to another long and heated one and suddenly you were under his desk, sucking his cock like it was your job.

His hand across his mouth to hold back choked groans and grunts. "(n-name) fuck just like that". He managed to hiss out as you swirl your tongue around his cock head.

Al haitham could feel his orgasm coming as he brought you up from your knees. He brought you into a long kiss tasting himself on your tongue

You yelped as he abruptly lifted you up on his desk and knelt down. You covered your face with your hands as your lover pushed your legs apart, lifting up your dress marveling at your powder pink panties, matching quite well with your pastel pink thigh highs socks.

"Al-haitham you don't have to-"

you gasped as he nibbled on the inside of your thigh creating a dark hickey, effectively shutting you up.

Oh he was such a tease

leaving soft kisses on your covered cunt, the flat of his tongue licking a stripe from your hole to your clit lingering there before blowing air onto your twitchy cunt.

"Al haitham please, stop teasing"

You managed to mumble out with a pout. He chuckled

"Since you asked so nicely" you nearly scoffed at the smug tone he used.

You lifted up your hips as he pulled down your panties, you didn't even notice him stuff it in his pocket

'How cute' he thought watching you squirm and twitch from his intense gaze.

Al haitham groaned against you as his tongue touched your dripping pussy, "so delicious.."

You gasped as he gripped your thighs harder and pulled you closer.

He was messy as he ate you out drool and slick dripping down his chin as he tongue fucked you, fingers coming up to poke and prod at your clenching hole

"Haithaim please-" Al haitham moaned as he inserted a single digit into your warmth.

You were so tight and warm and oh so wet. You whimpered as he pulled his finger in and out of you, slowly adding a second.

You gasped, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching as he hit that on spongy spot in you

You could feel a knot form in your stomach.

"I-im close. Hah! Please more al-haitham please!"

You moaned gripping onto his grey hair to pull him closer to your heat. Gods he was so good.

Removing his finger from your hole he replaced it with his tongue and used his fingers to draw tight circles on your clit. He wanted to taste you when you cum.

You felt weightless as your first orgasm hit you. You would have screamed if you didn't cover your mouth with your hand.

Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your grey haired lover worked you through your first orgasm.

"W-wait al haitham-" Al haitham let out a gutteral moan as your fingers dug into the back of his neck, overstimulating you for his pleasure. Could you blame him though? You were so sweet and dripping. Just. for. Him.

Besides he was just making sure this wasn't a dream.

It wasn't his fault right :(?

You didn't realize how fast your second orgasm was creeping up on until after you let out a silent moan, jaw dropping, your legs shaking as you came all over his mouth, tears falling from your beautiful eyes.

Al haitham's eyes rolled to the back of his head as you came on his tongue once again.

Shit he could definitely get used to this.

"(Name).." Al haitham moaned as he departed from your cunt to lay kisses on your quivering thighs.

He led his way up your body. Pulling the top of your dress down to get easy access to your beautiful breasts. God you were so perfect.

He gently pushed you back onto his desk, discreetly pushing important paperwork and stationary to the floor, all while sucking on your left nipple while pinching the other one.

He nearly whimpered as his aching cock brushes up against your thigh.

You reach down grabbing his heavy cock to align with your pussy, breathing heavily as it brushes against your clit.

Haitham smirked against your nipple as he moved back and forth between your soaked folds, catching onto your clit every time he moved forward.

He was such a tease.

But archons did it feel good.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

He moved slowly, sometimes slipping his tip into your hole just to pull it out again, this continued till you let out a whine.

"Please..." you gave in. "finally" he thought. The grey haired man let out a low chuckle, "please what sweetheart?"

He almost gave in seeing the unshed tears in your lashes, it only made his cock harder. His tip a deep scarlet.

"Please put it in!! Haven't i been a good girl for you?"

That was his breaking point.

He pushed your knees up to your shoulders, the stretch a bit uncomfortable, leaning down to press a kiss onto your pouty lips before sliding into your cunt.

No words could describe how full you were, almost reaching your cervix with how deep he was in you. You didn't know whether to cry in displeasure or moan in relief when he pulled out slowly before thrusting back in harder.

Your hands hooked themselves onto his shoulders, nails digging in leaving bright red marks which only made Al haitham moan louder. You instantly kissed him to shut him up. You didn't need anyone walking in.

Al haitham was good near insatiable, hips snapping into yours at a vigorous speed never slowing down as, skin slapping, mufffled moans and slight creaking from the desk filled the room.

Good lord he didn't know if he could stop. Eventually you had to break the kiss for air and he immediately went down to kiss your neck and licking, sucking and biting. Every time he lifted his head you would see a new purple mark left there.

"Haitham! Im gonna cum...please im cumming...ngh o-oh!" Your vision filled with block splotches, your toes curled and stomach clenched, biting into Al haitham's neck to muffle your scream as you creamed on his cock.

The acting grand sage thought he saw Celestia as he felt your pussy clench impossibly tighter.

He panted heavily, reaching a hand down to press against your stomach.

"Oh (name)...gonna.. fuck.. cumming! Ngh-"

He saw stars as he released white ropes of sticky cum into your abused pussy.

Your breaths were in sync as you both came down from your high.

Al haitham pulled out of you watching his cum leak out of you, his eyes darkening a bit as he watched it.

You were about to call out to him before he flipped your over, hard nipples pressed tightly against the cool desk.

A hand wrapped stiffly around the back of your neck.

"W-what..?" You managed to whimper out against the desk

"Shh sweetheart, be good for me now"

You turned your head to see his face a bit as his hand against your neck loosened its grip a bit, silently asking for permission. You smiled at him and nodded your head.

That was all he needed for him to enter your swollen and cum dripping pussy once again, head thrown back muttering broken apologies as his hips rutted against your ass like an animal in heat.

The pace he set was brutal, never slowing down one bit. That little twinge of pain makes the experience even better.

You swore you heard a choked whimper from Al haitham as you tightened up around him.

Drool and tears made the desk wet.

Al haitham leaned over you to kiss your neck and back, one hand reaching under to start rubbing tight circles on your neglected enlarged clit.

He was gonna cum soon and he was gonna make sure you did too.

Your moans increased in pitch as your knees buckled and the knot forming in your stomach felt weirdly different.

You didn't even have time to warn him as your 4th orgasm washed over you. Your juices squirting onto his thighs dripping down his balls and onto the desk.

Al haitham leaned back and stared in awe as you made a mess everywhere.

His thrusts became jerky and sloppy as he neared his orgasm.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! (N-name)!"

He let out an ungodly moan as he came deep inside your overused cunt. His grip on ur waist bound to leave marks.

You both panted loudly, you let out muffled noises as he pulled out of you slowly before reaching somewhere on the floor for a box of tissue. Wincing as he cleaned you up and best as he could without putting pressure on your sore cunt. Laying kisses on your back and whispering sweet praises of how good you did into your ear.

You pushed yourself off of the desk and turned around slowly Al haitham immediately pulling you into his arms and laying kisses onto your face, you giggling at his actions. You fixed your dress and pulling your now lover into a sweet kiss.

All was calm till you heard a knock at the door. You gasped as you pushed Al haitham away, both of you making yourselves presentable.

You pushed the small paper bin of Al -haithams with the dirty tissues under his desk, before panicking as you realized you couldn't find your panties!

But it was too late as the door opened to see you standing next to Al haithams desk with him sitting down in his chair.

You nervously held onto the bottom of your dress. As Al haitham slyly smirked at your nervousness.

"Al Haitham you absolute idiot you stole my keys again-! Oh hey (name), are we still on for our spa day tomorrow?"

You nodded your head smiling at the blonde. "Yeah of-ofcourse!"

Al haitham cleared his throat before digging in his pocket looking for Kaveh's keys. "Here you take your keys." He threw them at the blonde causing him to panic to catch them. "Now leave."

The dramatic blonde scoffed before glancing at you with sympathy in his eyes, how could you work under such a jerk?

"Bye (name)! I'll see you tomorrow!" You sent a smile back as he left the room.

You let out a sigh of relief before looking around the office for your underwear.

"Hey haitham have you seen my-"

"Panties? Hmm yes quite the pretty pair, i think i'll be keeping them." He said pulling them out his pocket and observing them.

[silverskye13]

“I’m sorry-- you? Queasy?”

“I don't do hand wounds,” Helsknight said stiffly, and Tanguish wondered if just the thought was turning his stomach. “I don't know why I just… it's my thing. Everyone has a… thing. Martyn gets twitchy about hammers, Red doesn’t let things around his neck, EB hates water on his circuits and I don't do hand wounds.”

“Oh, so you mean you have a glaring weakness?”

Helsknight clenched and unclenched his fist, flashing his gauntlets in Tanguish’s direction.

“You call this a glaring weakness?”

“I might call it compensating for something.”

“I'll compensate your face with them, if you like,” Helsknight smiled pleasantly, and Tanguish had to marvel at his restraint. His low growl only bled through on the last few words.

[softshuji]

Sitting with hanma and having his hands in your lap while you watch TV or do something mundane together and he's talking but you're only half listening. Instead you're turning his hands over in yours, twisting his wedding ring, lightly touching it, marvelling over how nice it looks on him, how well it fits, how much it makes him yours and he notices you're not listening really.

"what's gotten your attention sweetheart?" And he looks down to see you staring intently at the gold ring on his finger.

"mhmm nothing just thinking about how you're my husband." And it stirs such warmth in your belly that he doesn't take it off, that he wears it with such pride.

"I am. And you're my wife."

"mhm I am. Your wife."

"And I'm your husband."

You giggle and kiss his hands.

But he knows and he can see you getting twitchy and restless and warm and embarrassed and soft when you're turning his hands over, staring at your ring and his and remembering you're his as much as he is yours.

[aliveandfullofjoy]

Yet again, it’s time to indulge in one of my favorite new year traditions: my ten favorite new-to-me films of 2024!

Every one of these movies got under my skin in one way or another and made this difficult year that much brighter. If you like, consider this a strong endorsement for each of them.

Same rules as always: no movies from this past year (2024) or the year prior (2023). Every other year is fair game.

01. Close-Up (dir. Abbas Kiarostami, 1990; Iran; 98 min.)

"Tell him The Cyclist is a part of me."

Every now and then, you watch a film for the first time that knocks you sideways, that reminds you of the power and beauty in cinema, that lives up to every expectation you had for it, that works its way into your bloodstream to take up permanent residence as a part of you.

That was my experience finally watching Abbas Kiarostami's Close-Up. While retaining his empathetic gaze, Kiarostami uses a real-life incident to crack open the very ideas of performance, escapism, identity, truth, and storytelling. Is it a love letter to cinema or a condemnation of its ability to distance people from reality? Is it both?

That this film exists at all is a miracle. Hossain Sabzian's performance (as himself) is miraculous in itself, too. There is simply nothing like Close-Up, and I am so grateful to have experienced it. I can't wait to revisit it for years to come.

Currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

02. Paris, Texas (dir. Wim Wenders, 1984; West Germany/France; 147 min.)

"I wanted to see him so bad I didn't even dare imagine him anymore."

I mean this in the best way possible: Paris, Texas was not what I expected it to be at all. For years, I've heard it spoken of with reverence, and I've seen shots from it, and I generally knew the premise, but I didn't expect a film that was as nakedly emotional as this. Paris, Texas ripped my heart out over and over and over again, and I was grateful for it every time.

Everything about it is superb: Robby Müller's cinematography, creating poetry out of the neon-soaked desert; Ry Cooder's haunting guitar; Sam Shepard's enormously moving screenplay; Wenders' patient and precise direction. And then there are the performances! I waxed poetic about Harry Dean Stanton's performance yesterday in this post, but in short: it's a landmark performance. Nearly equally impressive, and with less screentime, is Nastassja Kinski, the key to the film's mystery.

This is an exquisite piece of work. What begins as an almost unbearably lonely film grows into one of bittersweet reconciliation, of healing. I'll be thinking about Travis and Hunter walking together on opposite sides of the street for a long, long time.

Currently streaming on the Criterion Channel and HBO Max.

03. Barton Fink (dir. Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, 1991; USA; 116 mins.)

"I tried to show you something beautiful."

I know I'm late to the party here (isn't that what these lists are all about?), but my God, what a major work. Barton Fink is every bit as dense and as literate as No Country for Old Men and as gripping and darkly hilarious as Fargo. John Turturro's performance is the perfect anchor, a twitchy live-wire with dueling inferiority and superiority complexes falling headfirst into a nightmare. He's matched (haunted?) perfectly by John Goodman, giving one of his best performances, using his folksy charm and twinkling eyes to terrifying effect. 

Again, though, the film is primarily an incredible achievement because of the Coens. Between their writing and directing, Barton Fink pulls at so many threads and juggles a number of conflicting tones to create a singularly hellish vision of Hollywood and an entertainment industry caught between World War II and the rise of McCarthyism. It's a marvel. I can't wait to watch it again and again.

Currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

04. Hoop Dreams (dir. Steve James, 1994; USA; 171 min.)

"That's why when somebody say, 'When you get to the NBA, don't forget about me,' and that stuff. Well, I should've said to them, 'If I don't make it, don't you forget about me.'"

Hoop Dreams is every bit as monumental as its reputation suggests, both a masterpiece of non-fiction filmmaking and the blueprint for the next thirty years of documentaries. The editing work alone here is unbelievable, with the film starting life as a 30-minute PBS short and growing into a three-hour-long epic.

The triumph of Hoop Dreams is a reminder that documentary filmmaking is an act of sculpture. Director Steve James collected 250 hours of footage over five years of shooting, which he and his Oscar-nominated team of editors, Frederick Marx and William Haugse, whittled down to a single, thrilling experience. The film is long, but not without reason. By the end, you feel like you've lived William Gates' and Arthur Agee's high school years with them.

Currently streaming on the Criterion Channel and HBO Max.

05. Out of Sight (dir. Steven Soderbergh, 1998; USA; 123 min.)

"It's like seeing someone for the first time, like you can be passing on the street, and you look at each other for a few seconds, and there's this kind of a recognition like you both know something. Next moment the person's gone, and it's too late to do anything about it. And you always remember it because it was there, and you let it go, and you think to yourself, 'What if I had stopped? What if I had said something?' What if, what if... it may only happen a few times in your life." "Or once." "Or once."

Call it a crime thriller, call it a neo-noir, call it a rom-com, call it whatever you like: Out of Sight is all of them, and it's extraordinarily good at being all of them at the same time. Every aspect of the film is perfectly realized: Steven Soderbergh's impeccable command over tone and genre; Scott Frank's charming, intelligent, complicated screenplay; the unstoppable movie star charisma of George Clooney and Jennifer Lopez. Everything that makes Clooney such a compelling actor is on full display here, and I'm not sure he's ever been better. Same goes for Lopez: she hasn't gotten nearly the respect she deserves for being such a remarkable screen presence, even in movies that don't deserve her, but she's luminous in this. 

And, my God, Anne V. Coates' editing -- the brilliant story structure feels like it might fall apart at the seams if she hadn't held it together. Between a legend in the editing room and a legend in the making in the director's chair, Out of Sight seems to come together effortlessly. It's as graceful and entertaining a film as you'll ever see. I loved everything about it.

Currently available to rent on demand.

06. Punch-Drunk Love (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson, 2002; USA; 95 min.)

"It really looks like Hawaii here."

This one really is magical, huh? Between the cinematography (Robert Elswit, a legend) and the music (Jon Brion, a legend) to the beautifully funny script by director Paul Thomas Anderson, just about every individual aspect of the film sings. This is true, too, for the performances -- Emily Watson is always so lovely, and Luis Guzmán should probably be in every PTA film ever made, but especially Adam Sandler (who, Uncut Gems be damned, has never, ever been better), and Philip Seymour Hoffman, who makes a three-course meal out of minimal screen time.

I feel like I've seen or catastrophized the worst possible version of a movie like this so many times -- an off-kilter indie love story between two #weirdos, the kind of thing that aimed to replicate this film or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind -- but the experience of actually seeing Punch-Drunk Love knocked me out. It's just so funny and romantic and sad and sweet and winning. It's a thing of real beauty.

Currently available to rent on demand.

07. Female Trouble (dir. John Waters, 1974; USA; 97 min.)

"This is so exciting! Just think of all the little horror stories that go on in other people's lives!"

What a terrific vehicle for Divine. What a brilliant continuation of the Dreamlanders' work. I certainly appreciated Pink Flamingos, even if it made me genuinely sick, and I understand why it's still seen as Waters' masterpiece, but to me, Female Trouble almost feels like a more complete, more precise, and more vicious variation of the earlier film. As a hit job on the sensibilities of good taste, its aim is deadly.

The film's look and sound is more polished and impressive than in Pink Flamingos, too, particularly Van Smith's astonishing costumes, Vincent Peranio's production design, and the horribly catchy theme song. The whole film feels like a fever dream, and it would be very easy to imagine this as a straight-up horror movie if there wasn't such a relentlessly funny rebellious spirit to it. Even still, the final act is genuinely disturbing. "Who wants to die for art?"

It's horrible. It's wonderful. It's kind of a masterpiece in its own sick way.

Currently streaming on the Criterion Channel.

08. Memories of Murder (dir. Bong Joon-ho, 2003; South Korea; 131 min.)

"What did he look like?" "Well... kind of plain." "In what way?" "Just... ordinary."

At the risk of saying something extremely obvious, Bong Joon-ho is a really great director, huh? Purely looking at how he manages to make Memories of Murder -- one bleak, bleak, bleak film -- both extremely funny and extremely upsetting and, in multiple sequences, genuinely frightening, it's clear that Bong is a generational talent. 

The cast is stacked (of course) -- Song Kang-ho holds the whole thing together beautifully, lending the final shot its gravitas, but he's flanked by the likes of Kim Sang-kyung, Kim Roi-ha, Byun Hee-bong, and, most memorably, the chilling Park Hae-il.

It's just kind of a knockout on all levels, from that gorgeous golden hour cinematography at the beginning giving way to the muted grays of the procedural to the way Bong milks an overwhelming sense of dread out of something as mundane as a rainstorm.

Currently available to rent on demand.

09. The Long Goodbye (dir. Robert Altman, 1973; USA; 112 min.)

"It's okay with me."

A neo-noir crime thriller with the vibes of a 70s hangout movie, The Long Goodbye is everything you could ever want from a Robert Altman/Philip Marlowe movie: grimy, rambling, uncomfortable, and very funny in its own bone-dry way. The soundtrack consisting of just one song? Inspired.

Elliott Gould is the perfect center for the film, giving a wonderfully relaxed, effortlessly cool performance. Altman's naturalistic conversation style mixes beautifully with the genre's stylized dialogue (and every other character tells Gould how cute he is, and you know what? It's true!). Also, it's got one of the great movie cats.

I'm positive I missed some of the inner workings of it, but it washed over me like a wave at the beach, and I loved every bit of it.

Currently available to rent on demand.

10. Crooklyn (dir. Spike Lee, 1994; USA; 114 min.)

"Ladybug, you turned out pretty good considering you were raised in a house full of ashy, rusty-butt boys."

Maybe it's just how inundated we currently are with this subgenre -- Esteemed Filmmaker Reflects On Their Childhood, à la Belfast and The Fabelmans and Roma -- but I can't help but feel like Crooklyn would become something of an awards darling in 2024. Like the best of the subgenre's newer films, Spike Lee's look back isn't really about him. He's definitely there (or at least a spectacled Knicks-loving stand-in is), but Crooklyn is primarily about growing up from the perspective of his sister Joie -- or rather, her stand-in Troy.

It's also more generally about the dynamics of the family and, by extension, their neighborhood. In both regards -- as a portrait of Black girlhood in the early '70s and as a memory piece of a family on the precipice of a major turning point -- the film is a triumph. The cast is tremendous, from the parents played by Alfre Woodard and Delroy Lindo, to the miraculously well-cast group of kids. Their chemistry together is magical (and my God, they are all so cute -- the scene of them singing along to the Partridge Family is instantly iconic to me).

There are so many well-observed slice-of-life moments in the film: all of the scenes of the family spending time together, RuPaul(!) in the bodega, Aunt Song (a very good Frances Foster) singing Christian songs while Troy stares at her. And, because it's a Spike Lee joint, Crooklyn is a stylistic and technical achievement. It has one of the most audacious aspect ratio changes I've ever seen (and honestly, I'm not sure if it's successful, but I admire the swing!), plus one of the funniest uses of the floating dolly shot in any of Lee's movies.

A supremely lovely film.

Currently available to rent on demand.

Other films I loved (in alphabetical order): After Hours (dir. Martin Scorsese, 1985); Aguirre, the Wrath of God (dir. Werner Herzog, 1972); An Autumn Afternoon (dir. Yasujirō Ozu, 1962); The Bad News Bears (dir. Michael Ritchie, 1976); Baseball (dir. Ken Burns, 1994); Big Trouble in Little China (dir. John Carpenter, 1986); Blue Velvet (dir. David Lynch, 1986); Burn After Reading (dir. Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, 2008); The Cassandra Cat (dir. Vojtěch Jasný, 1963); Eyes Wide Shut (dir. Stanley Kubrick, 1999); Green Porno (dir. Isabella Rossellini, 2008); Heaven Can Wait (dir. Warren Beatty and Buck Henry, 1978); High Hopes (dir. Mike Leigh, 1988); History is Made at Night (dir. Frank Borzage, 1937); The Hunt for Red October (dir. John McTiernan, 1990); I've Heard the Mermaids Singing (dir. Patricia Rozema, 1987); The Insider (dir. Michael Mann, 1999); It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (dir. Stanley Kramer, 1963); Joy Street (dir. Suzan Pitt, 1995); La Haine (dir. Mathieu Kassovitz, 1995); La Roue (dir. Abel Gance, 1923); Leave Her to Heaven (dir. John M. Stahl, 1945); Love Letter (dir. Kinuyo Tanaka, 1953); Marnie (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1964); The Match Factory Girl (dir. Aki Kaurismäki, 1990); Miller's Crossing (dir. Joel Coen and Ethan Coen, 1990); Morning for the Osone Family (dir. Keisuke Kinoshita, 1946); Oslo, August 31st (dir. Joachim Trier, 2011); Querelle (dir. Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1982); Robert Frost: A Lover's Quarrel with the World (dir. Shirley Clarke, 1963); RoboCop (dir. Paul Verhoeven, 1987); The Salesman (dir. Asghar Farhadi, 2016); Seconds (dir. John Frankenheimer, 1966); The Shop on Main Street (dir. Ján Kadár and Elmar Klos, 1965); Simon of the Desert (dir. Luis Buñuel, 1965); Spellbound (dir. Alfred Hitchcock, 1945); The Thing (dir. John Carpenter, 1982); Tokyo Godfathers (dir. Satoshi Kon, 2003); Tokyo Olympiad (dir. Kon Ichikawa, 1965); Twister (dir. Jan de Bont, 1996); The Unknown (dir. Tod Browning, 1927); Walking (dir. Ryan Larkin, 1968); When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (dir. Mikio Naruse, 1960); Wooden Crosses (dir. Raymond Bernard, 1932)

And finally, some miscellaneous viewing stats:

First movie watched in 2024: The Cassandra Cat (dir. Vojtěch Jasný, 1963)

First movie seen in theaters in 2024: I Know Where I'm Going! (dir. Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, 1945)

Final movie watched in 2024: Asteroid City (dir. Wes Anderson, 2023)

Final movie seen in theaters in 2024: Interstellar (dir. Christopher Nolan, 2014)

Least favorite movie: Viva Zapata! (dir. Elia Kazan, 1952)

Oldest movie: How a Mosquito Operates (dir. Winsor McCay, 1912)

Longest movie: La Roue (dir. Abel Gance, 1923 - 413 min.)

Shortest movie: Stellar (dir. Stan Brakhage, 1993 - 2 min.)

Month with the most viewings: February (54)

Month with the fewest viewings: October and November (7 each)

First movie from 2024 seen: Drive-Away Dolls (dir. Ethan Coen)

Total movies seen in theaters: 30 (including shorts)

Total movies: 246

[2nd2ndalto]

You Can Lose Sight of It All

Nico turns his face into Will's shoulder. "I don't want you to come," he wants to say. But even as the words form in his mouth, he realizes they're not true.

“I want you to come. And I hate that I want you to come,” he whispers.

___

Nico has a bit of a crisis about Will coming along to Tartarus, pre-TSATS. Re-posting here because I don't think I shared to Tumblr when I wrote this.

____

Will walks Nico back to his cabin that night the same as always, leaning in to kiss him at the foot of the stairs.

“Did you want me to… I can stay, if you want?” Will asks shyly.

They've been doing this more often than not lately, the two of them curled together in Nico’s bed, slowly falling into sleep together, waking hand in hand, or with Nico’s head pillowed on Will’s chest. Warm. Safe. And it’s good. It’s the best Nico can ever remember sleeping, but…

“Um. Maybe not tonight. I’m really tired,” Nico says, trying to keep his voice as gentle as possible, not wanting the other boy to feel rejected. He's painfully aware that he’s given a similar excuse several times this week.

He’s never been quite so close to someone else or someone else’s feelings before, never had to weigh his actions so carefully, worry about their impact. But that’s good, too. He feels close, connected. Cared for.

Will smiles. “Okay.”

Will’s just as careful, Nico knows, trying not to make Nico feel bad for needing a little space now and then. Trying not to push too hard. Will squeezes Nico’s hand. He leans back in to press his lips to Nico’s forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nico watches the other boy until he arrives at the Apollo cabin. Will turns and waves before closing the door behind him.

Nico enters his own cabin, toeing off his shoes and dropping to his bed immediately. He is tired. But in the sudden absence of Will’s sunny energy, the other feelings seep in too, washing over him like a wave now that he’s alone. He feels guilty. Heavy. Will’s words to Apollo keep coming back, even louder in this quiet space.

We’ll go together.

And it felt good hearing them. He loves that Will wants to be with him, marvels at the way Will automatically assumes each of Nico’s battles belongs to the two of them now. He craves Will’s company and his energy and his warmth. But how can he, in good conscience, let Will come with him? Or more importantly, how is he going to convince him not to?

Nico gazes into the darkness of his cabin. He thinks of Will, strong and sunny and whole. Who could blame Nico for wanting him to stay that way?

He thinks of himself: sharp edges, broken, cobbled together. He feels more whole now than he has in years, but it seems precarious, especially lately. As if he could crumble to pieces at any moment, maybe even worse than before, now that he’s begun to let his guard down.

It’s been three nights now since Will’s slept over. And Nico doesn’t want the distance, doesn’t want to wake up alone and uncuddled… he doesn’t really want those things ever again, if he’s being completely honest. But it feels more and more dangerous lately, allowing himself Will’s comfort. Will’s become his anchor, his rock. But shouldn’t he be able to manage on his own?

The memories of his mother, Bianca... Jason. Everyone he’s lost, everything he might have done to keep from losing them, every way it might be his fault… it’s all come back with a vengeance the last few weeks, torturing him in dreams and stubbornly lingering throughout the day, dragging him down, sapping his strength. And more recently the dreams are of Will, too. Will, pale and lifeless. Will, ripped away from him, lost in the void.

Nico’s been keeping these nightmares to himself, hoping the memories will fade into the background again, but it's been making him short-tempered and irritable. Fragile. As much as he’s been trying, he thinks he's probably not doing a great job of hiding it.

Twenty minutes later Nico’s still exhausted, but now he’s twitchy and antsy and still so heavy. He pulls his shoes back on, carefully checking for onlookers as he opens his door and walks out into the cool night.

___

The walking keeps the voices away, but hours later, Nico’s beyond exhausted, not to mention cold and mosquito-bitten. He drags himself back to his cabin just as a faint light touches the horizon, hoping that at least in his weariness he’ll be able to keep his sleep to himself.

It works for a while. Will and Kayla arrive to wake him only a few hours later. Nico pretends not to notice their matching looks of concern when he arrives at his cabin door, likely looking more tired than he did when he went to bed last night. He manages to wave them off for the time being, telling them he needs to shower and he’ll meet them at breakfast.

And now, in the daylight, he allows himself to think - maybe it will be okay. Maybe they can do this. He’s been through Tartarus before, after all. He was younger then, and completely unprepared. He’s stronger now, smarter. Will is too. Why couldn’t they do this together? After all, Percy and Annabeth managed it.

But the spark of hope dims too soon. There’s Will across the dining pavilion, looking so bright and alive, the sun catching the gold in his hair, and Nico’s back to square one.

He can’t allow Will to do this. There’s just no way. He’s gotten too comfortable over the last year, allowing others in - especially Will, but so many others at camp too. He suddenly realizes it’s a trap. He feels a painful twist of nausea.

“Hey sunshine,” Will grins, bumping their shoulders together as Nico sits down. Will can’t help the way his gaze darts to Nico’s plate, the way his face falls, just a little. Will quickly pretends he didn’t look, and Nico pretends not to notice.

Normally Nico doesn't mind the gentle chiding to eat more, to take better care of himself. It's helped, honestly. He's managed to get his weight up to a number that Will deems acceptable (he'd informed Nico, with a brilliant, fond smile). Nico has more energy. He finds, to his surprise, that he can recover more quickly when he's tired or injured.

But he's also been a wreck lately, his stomach in knots, and he's snapped at Will twice this week in response to Will teasingly adding more food to his plate. The last year has brought Nico so much further towards being happier, healthier, more settled. Now he feels as if it's slipping away to nothing.

Will drops a reassuring arm around Nico’s shoulders, leaning in for a quick kiss. Nico’s stomach lurches, pleasantly this time. Always, even after months of such kisses and touches. Will tastes like maple syrup and sunshine and he’s so warm where they’re pressed together. Surely they don’t have to talk about Tartarus right now, anyway.

They don’t. There’s a game of capture the flag happening later, and the Apollo kids are deep in discussion about tactics. Nico lets himself be lulled by the familiar voices discussing familiar, smaller problems. He doesn’t contribute much, instead making an attempt to eat some of his meal - as much as Will’s pretending not to pay attention, Nico thinks he might be one of the least stealthy people Nico’s ever met. He'd tease Will about it if he had the energy. Nico leans into the other boy and lets Will’s warmth wash over him. Will pulls him in tighter.

Peace, at least for a moment. ___

Nico’s been perched in the branches of a sturdy oak with Harley for the better part of an hour, and it’s starting to wear on him. They’re supposed to be spying on the other team - quietly - but this kid cannot seem to shut up. Normally Nico can find it in himself to be patient with the younger boy, but today the constant chatter is grating on Nico’s nerves, and that makes him feel like shit too. He just can’t seem to get a handle on his mood.

“Shh,” Nico says suddenly, grabbing Harley’s arm.

There’s a scrambling in the underbrush below and sure enough, several of the other campers are trying to breach their defenses. It’s exactly what Nico’s been waiting for, and he closes his eyes, concentrating on extending his mind into the earth below them, running down the roots of the tree they’re sitting in, deeper, deeper.

It works. Half a dozen skeleton warriors emerge from the ground just as the Demeter and Athena campers emerge from the trees.

It’s over in an instant, and soon Nico and Harley are dropping back to the ground and trading high-fives with the Apollo campers. And for a moment Nico spirits lift and he appreciates how nice it is to be doing something normal. No voices, no visions, just dumb camp stuff. But then -

“Hey, where’s Will?” Austin asks. He turns to Nico. “I thought he was with you.”

It’s nothing, Nico knows it’s probably nothing, but it’s like a stone drops into the pit of his stomach.

“No,” he shakes his head. “He wasn’t with us.”

He can already feel his pulse pounding in his throat.

Will. Your fault.

No.

Get it together, di Angelo.

Nico presses the feeling down, trying to keep his voice steady. “He was with Jake. Last I saw them, they were heading east towards the oak grove.”

No one panics, but the mood shifts tangibly to less celebratory and more urgent as the group makes their way through the forest. Nico has to force himself not to sprint.

“Jake! Will!” Kayla yells, over and over as they make their way through the trees. Her volume sometimes grates on Nico, but he’s grateful for it in this moment, and he follows close behind her, heart in his throat.

“Over here!” a voice calls in response, finally, and the group turns in unison. Sure enough, there’s a flash of bright orange in amongst the greens and browns of the forest, just barely visible in the faded colours of twilight.

Austin gets there first, and Nico hears him curse. His blood runs cold. He and the rest of the group come upon the clearing a second later.

“Shit,” Nico breathes.

“Harpies,” Jake says, sounding out of breath. “I’m fine - I think Will is too. But he hit his head.”

Jake’s got a scrape across his face and a couple of deeper ones on his arm, blood dripping down his wrist. And then there’s Will on the ground, unconscious and looking deathly pale. Nico’s stomach twists. There’s blood, too. Nico can’t bear to look closely enough to see where it’s coming from. His chest feels too tight.

Coward.

And Nico should do something, right? But he’s frozen, useless. The best he can do is try to swallow down the bile rising in his throat and move out of the way so the other Apollo campers can crowd closer to help.

Nico finds himself standing next to Jake, who’s being expertly bandaged by Austin while Kayla assesses Will’s condition.

“He’s okay, Nico,” Jake murmurs, maybe taking in Nico’s expression. “The cuts aren’t that deep. But when we were running back to base he tripped over some roots. That’s when he knocked himself out.”

Nico nods mutely, watching. Sure enough, it’s only a moment before Will’s eyes flutter open. He tries to sit up, but Kayla presses him back down.

“Just hold still until I get you bandaged up, you klutz,” she mutters.

Nico should go to him. Everyone will expect him to go, right? Will will expect him to go. But he just can't breathe, and instead he finds himself taking a shaky step backwards, then another, finally turning and running into the woods, into the shadows.

___

Will jogs up the steps of the Hades cabin feeling anxious. He tries to shake it off. Sure, Nico's been stressed out lately, but they're still fine, right? It's going to be fine. Hearing random voices would put anyone on edge. Will tries, yet again, to convince himself that it doesn’t mean anything, that Nico disappeared after capture the flag last night. That it’s fine that he didn’t stop by the infirmary while Will was recovering. That it's not a big deal that Nico missed breakfast this morning.

He knocks on Nico’s door, trying for a positive, upbeat demeanor.

The door opens, and Nico returns his gaze for barely a second. Will’s heart sinks.

Nico doesn’t say a word, merely leaving the door open and crossing the room to collapse onto his bed. Will can't see his boyfriend's face now, but from the brief glimpse he had in the dim light of the cabin, Nico looked awful. Tired and drawn. Nico’s worked so hard - with Will’s insistence and encouragement - to get his weight up over the last year, and Will's terrified the other boy's losing every hard-earned pound of it now. But that seems to be just one more thing he’s not allowed to mention.

"Um. Can I come in?" Will hovers uncertainly in the doorway, finally entering and closing the door behind him when Nico doesn't respond. It's really dark in here with the door closed and all the blinds drawn, especially as Will’s eyes try to adjust from the bright light outside.

“You, um." Will clears his throat. "No one knew where you were last night. After capture the flag,” he says into the quiet of the cabin. “Kayla said you were there when everyone found Jake and me, but…" he trails off, uncertain.

Will doesn’t say that he spent all evening compulsively glancing up every time he heard anyone come near his room in the infirmary. That he walked up to the door of the Hades cabin before returning to his own cabin last night, but that he was too scared to knock.

There’s a long pause. “Yeah. I was just… walking,” Nico says.

"Oh." Will crosses to the bed, hesitantly sitting down. “So… what are you up to?”

“Reading,” Nico says flatly, though that’s clearly not the case.

Will’s never felt so unwelcome here before, and it’s making his stomach ache. He reaches out for Nico’s hand, squeezes it. Nico lets him, but gives him only the smallest squeeze in response.

Will swallows. He’s not going to participate in this, he decides suddenly. He’s not going to let Nico shut him out, and he’s not going to tiptoe around this. He squeezes Nico’s hand again.

“So, obviously you’re not okay,” Will tells the other boy. His voice sounds weird, too loud, breaking the silence of the cabin. He clears his throat.

“Nico.” Will shifts so he can see Nico’s face better, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. “You’re clamming up,” he says firmly. “I thought we weren’t doing that anymore.”

He realizes, even as the words leave his mouth, that this is the wrong thing to say - or at least the wrong way to say it. But it’s too late. Nico turns towards him, his gaze intense and incredulous in a way that Will barely recognizes.

“Really? We aren’t doing that anymore?”

Will shakes his head, “I’m sorry, that came out wrong -”

Nico sits up, snatching his hand away. “No. I don’t think it did.”

“Nico -”

“No. Stop it, Will.” Nico’s voice is tight with anger. “I know exactly what you meant. We don’t clam up anymore. We clean our plates at every meal. We sleep eight hours a night.”

“No, Nico, please, I -”

“I’ve had enough, Solace. Maybe this is just who I am. Maybe it’s you who needs to finally realize that you don’t want that.”

Nico’s on his feet now, and Will thinks he probably should be too, but he feels paralyzed.

“What? No! Nico, you know that’s not true!” Will reaches out a hand, but Nico takes a step back. It’s like a punch to the gut.

Will can see the other boy is fighting tears, and all he wants to do is to hold him, make this all better, but -

“You and Mr. D. keep trying to tell me that I don’t know what’s real,” Nico croaks. “Maybe that’s not my problem after all. Maybe it’s yours.” Nico turns, reaching for his sword and then bending to pull on his shoes.

“Where - where are you going?” Will finally manages to get to his feet, unthinkingly reaching out to the other boy again before dropping his hand.

“I don’t know.”

“Nico. Please.” It surprises Will, how broken his own voice sounds, and Nico must notice too, because he turns and his face softens, marginally.

“I just need some time, okay? I’m - I think I’m gonna go see Hazel.”

And then he’s gone, enveloped into the shadows of his cabin. It’s been months since they’ve parted without a kiss or an embrace, and Will can feel the cold sinking into his heart as he sinks to the cabin floor. ___

Once he’s shadow-travelled to the Berkeley Hills, Nico can’t quite force himself to go any further. He knows in his heart that he’s screwed up, again, and surely Hazel will tell him the same. After a restless night and several hours the next morning spent wandering and wallowing in guilt and regret, it’s finally hunger, frustratingly, that compels Nico to journey further.

It’s still early, and when he knocks on the door of Hazel’s room in the barracks, she answers immediately.

“Nico! What on earth are you doing here?” Hazel wraps him in a hug and then steps back, her brow furrowed.

“I - I’m not sure,” Nico says, suddenly feeling even more lost. Now that he’s arrived, he realizes he doesn’t know why he came. Except that he told Will this was where he’d be, and that, at least, means something.

Hazel frowns, inspecting Nico’s face a little too closely. He looks away, feeling exposed.

“Come in,” she says, more softly.

Nico’s not sure who designed Hazel's living quarters, but it certainly wasn’t whomever was given free rein with the Hades cabin. The space is small - it’s just Hazel, after all - but the walls are light and the space is sparsely decorated with bright jewel-tones. Hazel’s already made her bed and tidied, and it makes Nico feel even more disheveled. He’s sweaty, tired and wearing the same clothes he’s been in for several days.

Hazel closes the door and turns to her brother. “So, it’s wonderful to see you, of course. But… what’s going on?”

Nico swallows, staring down at the wood-plank flooring. “Um. I told Will I was coming to see you, but… I think I’m leaving camp for good.”

It’s the idea he’s been turning over in his mind ever since the evening of capture the flag, and it’s pressing against his skull, swelling until there aren’t any other options that make sense.

To her credit, Hazel doesn’t shout or scold. She just sighs. “You better sit down.”

Nico does, collapsing onto Hazel’s desk chair and dropping his head into his hands.

“You look kind of awful,” Hazel says after a long moment.

“Yeah,” Nico says. “I haven’t been sleeping. Or eating, really. The - the voices I’ve been hearing… they haven’t gotten any better. They’re louder, if anything.”

“Oh, Nico,” Hazel says softly, and great, that’s just what he needs. The chronic lack of sleep combined with the stress of the last few weeks has tears rolling down his cheeks before Nico has any chance of fighting against it. Hazel’s there in a moment, though, bending over him awkwardly to embrace him, her hair ticking his face.

“Sorry,” Nico whispers, trying to catch his breath. “I swear I didn’t come here to cry all over you.”

Hazel laughs. “It’s okay, big brother. That’s what I’m here for. Now tell me everything.”

So he does. It helps, somehow, that Hazel’s a bit more removed from everything else that’s been going on. Everyone back at camp, worrying about him. Especially Will. He tells Hazel how he feels as if he’s losing himself again. He tells her about capture the flag, how Will’s injury sent each and every alarm in him blaring. He tells her about the nightmares. The voices.

“You think the voices are real, then,” Hazel says. She’s sunk to the floor now, seated cross-legged at Nico’s feet.

Nico swallows. “I - yes. I know they are. And there’s the prophecy, Hazel.” He repeats the lines again. It should get easier with each retelling, but it aches every time.

“Something of equal value,” Hazel muses, staring into the middle distance.

Nico nods tightly. “I think… I think that’s what’s worrying me most.”

“You think it’s Will.”

He shrugs, tears pricking at his eyes again. “How can I not? Hazel, I’m so scared,” his voice comes out in a whisper, throat tight as he finally allows himself to say the word out loud. “He says he’s coming with me, like it’s not even up for discussion. How am I supposed to live with myself if I let Will come, and he - he…” Unable to voice the rest of the thought, Nico buries his head in his hands again.

Hazel’s quiet for a long moment. “You know you can’t ever take these prophecies at face value,” she says finally.

“Yeah, of course I know that," Nico mumbles. "But what else am I supposed to do? I just… I can’t let Will come. It’s not safe.”

She shrugs. “Probably not. Is it safe for you, though?”

Nico gazes at the purple curtains, fluttering gently in the breeze from the open window. The air smells like life, and light.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. I need to go.”

“I think what you need to do is talk to Will,” Hazel says after a long moment.

Nico sighs. “I don’t even know if he'll want to talk to me. He - he caught me at a bad moment. Yesterday. Not that it's his fault, but... I - I was so worried. And so tired. And I was just a complete dick. I should have just been straight with him, but instead I lashed out about really stupid things, and then I left.” He groans. “I’m so bad at this, Hazel."

It’s weighing on him more and more the longer he’s away. He hates that he left things the way he did, hates knowing that Will’s hurting, worrying. Because of him.

"You're not as bad as you think you are, Nico."

Nico huffs out a laugh.

“Will cares a lot about you. I've seen the way he looks at you, Nico. I know it's hard, but don't shut him out now.”

Nico nods. His throat feels tight.

"If the situation was reversed," Hazel says gently, "how would you react to Will telling you he was going on a quest like this by himself?"

Nico frowns. "Well, obviously I - I wouldn't let him. That wouldn't be right. I'd do anything I could to help."

"Mmm,” Hazel agrees. “You'd probably find a way to go with him even if he insisted you stay behind."

Nico frowns. "I know what you're doing, okay? And I didn't come all this way for you to side with Will," he says, trying to summon a little indignation.

Hazel reaches for his hand. "Sorry," she laughs. "But just think about it, okay?"

Nico sighs, closing his eyes. Hazel’s hand is warm in his. He can already feel his mind beginning to settle towards sleep. He’s just so tired. He opens his eyes, leans back, blinking.

"Do you really want to leave camp?" Hazel asks.

Nico shakes his head. “No, of course I don’t. I just - I don’t know. It seemed to make the most sense.”

“Okay. Well, I need you to know that it doesn’t.” Hazel watches him carefully and Nico nods.

“You can’t make any big decisions in this state anyway, okay? You’re going to come with me and have something to eat, and then I’m putting you to bed,” Hazel says firmly, and Nico is reminded so violently of Will that his heart aches. Gods, he misses the other boy so much already. ___

Nico’s still not sure what to do next, but he and Hazel agree that Camp Jupiter will make a fine refuge for the day.

It’s nice, actually. He eats breakfast with Hazel and then she tucks him into her bed. Nico naps the morning away, mostly peacefully, his dreams muted and less troubled than they have been. He trains with Hazel and Frank in the afternoon and stays for dinner.

And then, because he’s an idiot and a coward, he lingers until after nightfall, trying to tell himself it’ll just be easier if he doesn't have to shadow-travel in the daytime.

Nico arrives back at Camp Half-Blood once it’s well and truly dark, and he hesitates at the border of the woods, irresolute. Should he head straight back to his cabin? Find Will? His stomach is still in knots, but at least now he’s moving forward. Whatever that might mean.

In the end, the decision is made for him.

“Nico.” Will’s voice is hard and determined, and it startles Nico a little, the sight of the other boy striding towards him. At the ferocity in Will’s gaze, he almost takes a step back.

Will stops a foot away, suddenly looking less sure of himself, and Nico feels his heart constrict. He suddenly realizes he can’t remember the last time they greeted each other without some show of affection. It’s crushing to see Will uncertain whether it’s allowed.

Nico tries to swallow down his nerves. “Hi,” he says softly. “Um. Can I…” Hesitantly, he reaches out his arms, and Will’s there the next second, crushing Nico to his chest.

“I didn’t know if you were coming back,” Will whispers, and Nico can hear the tears in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into Will’s shirt. “I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot and I love you so much and I don't want to lose you -” his own voice breaks and Will squeezes him a bit tighter, turning his head to press his face into Nico’s hair. "I love you too," he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” Nico mutters again when they finally part, his head down.

“It’s okay,” Will says. "I think we should talk, though."

Nico nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

They gaze at each other for a long moment. “Um. My cabin?” Nico asks hesitantly.

They cross the green together. Nico aches to take the other boy’s hand, but something holds him back. Things aren’t quite right with them, and it’s his fault. It’s his fault he can’t sleep, his fault he can’t eat. And now this.

They’re silent as they enter the cabin. Nico crosses to his bed, turning on the lamp and sinking down gratefully. The past two days feel as if they've lasted several months. Will takes a seat on the bed across the room. The space between them is like an endless gulf, and Nico feels himself automatically leaning forward, as if that will bridge the gap.

“I need to apologize,” Will says, twisting his hands in his lap.

Nico glances up, surprised. “What? Why?”

“Before you left - I pushed you to talk to me when you didn’t want to. I should have given you space. That was... I wasn't respecting your boundaries, and -”

“Will, no.” Nico’s across the room before he’s even registered that he’s moving, coming to a stop in front of Will to wrap his arms around the other boy’s shoulders.

“It's my fault. This is all my fault. I was an asshole.” Nico mumbles into Will's hair. “I’m just so scared Will,” he says, his voice breaking. It’s a bit easier to talk this way, without those kind blue eyes gazing into his, that beloved freckled face etched with concern.

Will tries to pull back, but Nico doesn’t let him, and after a moment he winds his arms tighter around Nico’s waist.

“I don’t understand. What are you scared of? You mean the voices?” Will asks, his voice muffled against Nico's chest.

Nico swallows. “I can’t lose you.” And gods just saying the words makes him feel as though he’s going to crumble to pieces. He can’t do this again. Not with Will. He couldn’t save his mother. He couldn’t save Bianca, or Jason. But maybe he can save Will.

“Nico.” Will goes to pull away again, and this time Nico relents. Will yanks him down so Nico’s sitting in his lap.

“You are not going to lose me,” Will says fiercely. “You couldn’t lose me if you wanted to. Is that what this is about? I thought you were mad at me for… you know. Being overbearing, and pushy, and…”

Nico half-shrugs. “I mean, you are,” he says weakly, and Will rolls his eyes and finally, finally smiles.

“Yeah, I know. And I’m really sorry about that. I’m trying to tone it down, and I’m going to keep trying. I’m probably still going to screw up sometimes, but please don’t ever think that I want you to be anything other than what you are, okay?”

“Are you sure?” Nico asks, his throat tight.

“Yes. I want you. And if you don’t want to eat or sleep or - or talk… I’ll still love you just the same.”

“I do want to eat and sleep. And talk,” Nico says, his voice wobbly. "It’s just been really hard lately. I don't - I don't usually mind when you bug me about those things. I know it’s because you care. It's just… the last week or so… my nightmares have been… really bad -” his voice breaks again and this time he can’t pull himself back fast enough and the next thing he’s aware of he’s sobbing, hard enough that he can’t catch his breath. Will doesn’t flinch, though. He gathers Nico in, holds tight. Nico’s not sure how long they stay that way, but Will keeps holding on after the tears have eased, his face pressed into Nico’s shoulder, like if he holds on tight enough, he can will all of Nico’s broken pieces back together. Nico wants him to.

“I wish you’d told me,” Will whispers, and then he pulls back, his eyes searching Nico’s. “Not that - not that you have to tell me everything if you don’t want to. Just - I’ve been worried about you and I wasn’t sure what was going on. I thought it was probably something I’d done.”

Nico shakes his head immediately. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m just the worst.”

Will frowns. “You’re definitely not.”

“I’m sorry you thought it was your fault,” Nico whispers. “And I’m really sorry for losing my temper. And for leaving.”

Will offers him a half-smile. “It’s possible we could do a better job of communicating with each other.”

Nico huffs out a laugh. “Maybe.” He leans his forehead against Will’s. They stay that way for a long moment, Nico following the rise and fall of Will’s breath until he feels himself start to settle. Gods, he could sleep right now. But there are things that need to be said first.

“Okay.” Nico takes a deep breath, pulling back. “You ready for some communication?”

Will grins. “Lay it on me.”

Nico laughs. He loves being in Will’s lap, he’s learned over the past few months. It feels vulnerable, but in a way that’s warm and safe. A way he can’t remember feeling before. But at the moment he finds he needs a little space to collect his thoughts, and he gently extracts himself, moving to sit next to the other boy, their thighs pressed together.

“I’ve been having a lot of dreams, lately, about um… people I’ve lost,” Nico begins, and Will makes a soft sound of understanding.

“My mom, and Bianca. And Jason,” Nico says softly. “And then… I’ve started dreaming about losing you, too.” His voice is rough, and he’s not sure how much of this he’s going to be able to get out before breaking down again. Will reaches for his hand, lacing their fingers together. And yeah, that helps.

“When you got hurt the other night, at capture the flag…” Nico finds he needs to take a moment to master his breathing again and Will, bless him, waits patiently, holding tight to Nico’s hand.

“It really threw me,” Nico says finally. “I saw you lying there, and you were bleeding, and you…” Nico shakes his head, trying to get rid of the image in his mind. “I couldn’t handle it. I just ran. I’m sorry I didn’t stay, and that I didn’t come to see you in the infirmary.”

“It’s okay, I get it,” Will says softly.

“Anyway.” Nico clears his throat. “The nightmares got even worse. After that. It’s been really hard to get them out of my head, even when I’m awake. And I’m actually really freaking out, Will. About Tartarus. And the prophecy,” he finishes, finally glancing at the other boy.

Will nods slowly. “I’ve kind of been freaking out too.”

Nico blinks. “Really? But you’ve - you’ve been so cool about it.”

Will's lips quirk up. “That’s just because I’m cool,” he says, bumping his shoulder against Nico’s.

Nico rolls his eyes.

“And also I didn’t want you to worry, or like… think that I wasn’t tough enough,” Will adds more quietly.

Nico shakes his head. “Will, it’s not that I don't think you're tough, or brave. It’s about… I just can’t lose you. Especially if it’s my fault,” he finishes in a whisper, watching their joined hands instead of Will’s face. There’s a long silence.

“How do you think I’d feel,” Will says quietly, “if you went down there alone, and you… you didn’t come back? If something happened to you, because I wasn’t there to help?”

“Um. Bad?” Nico says weakly, and Will snorts.

"You can’t control everything Nico." Will's voice is gentle, but firm. "People are going to make their own decisions. Sometimes they'll make those decisions because they love you. And you still can’t control that. And the consequences of those decisions are not your fault. We're going to do this together, and we're going to be fine. I'm not going to sacrifice myself to fulfill some stupid prophecy. But I am coming with you."

Nico turns his face into Will's shoulder. “I don’t want you to come,” he wants to say, but even as the words form in his mouth he realizes they’re not true.

“I want you to come. And I hate that I want you to come,” he whispers.

Will leans his head against Nico's. "I'm really glad that you want me with you. But ultimately, it's not your choice. It's mine," he says simply.

Nico pulls back to look the other boy in the eyes. "But what if it's a bad choice?" he asks, a little desperately.

Will shrugs. "Then I make a bad choice. But I'm not planning on dying, and I'm not planning on you dying. My plan is for us to have many, many years of bad choices. Together." He bumps his forehead gently against Nico's.

Nico can feel his eyes welling again. "Really?"

"Yes," Will says, firm. "Well," he amends, "mostly good choices."

Nico laughs wetly and Will gives him that bright, beautiful smile, the one that's just for him, before pulling Nico into his arms. After a moment Nico wiggles himself back into Will's lap and Will hums happily.

Nico sighs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, losing himself in Will's warmth and Will's breath. He’s finally, finally, starting to feel the tension in his body begin to ease. Will’s hand rubs soothingly against his back and he just wants to forget everything else. He almost manages it.

"But what if..." Nico begins hesitantly after a moment.

Will sighs. "I know," he says, and then he's quiet. His hand stills on Nico’s back and he takes a deep breath.

"So, this is maybe... kind of dark, but... also not. I don't know." Will pulls back to look at Nico. "I'm gonna tell you what I tell myself, anyway. After Lee died, and Michael... other people too. It's hard not to dwell on that, right? But we're in this... we're in this life where that shit happens. The way I've made sense of it for myself is... if I only get a year with you, then I'm going to love you as hard as I can for the time I have you." Will's voice breaks, and he takes a second to collect himself. "And if a year is all we get, I'm going to cherish that time we had for the rest of my life. I hope we get a lot more time, but if that's all we have, I'm going to be grateful for that. But I don't want to imagine a life where I didn't get to know you and love you," he finishes, his voice rough.

Nico raises a hand to brush the tears from Will's cheek. "That's really beautiful," he whispers.

Will's lips quirk up. "No, you are."

Nico rolls his eyes. "So cheesy."

Will beams, and Nico leans in to kiss him, tears and all. He tries to pour everything he hasn’t yet said into the kiss - his bone-deep gratitude for this boy and the stubborn, steadfast way he loves Nico. The unwavering way he lifts Nico up and holds him together. His comfort and his strength.

"It's been a few days since I've stayed over," Will murmurs when they finally part. "Not - not that I have to stay. I was just um... making an observation."

Nico smiles. "I'd like you to stay. It's just - like I said before... the nightmares have been bad." He makes a face. "I didn't wanna subject you to that."

"I don't mind," Will assures him.

"What if I wake up screaming?"

"It wouldn't be the first time, right? I'll rub your back until you fall asleep again. Or we can talk about it. Or we could make out some more," Will shrugs, going pink.

Nico lets out a giggle.

"I'm just throwing out suggestions," Will says, not quite making eye contact. “I mean. It always makes me feel better.”

Nico laughs, wrapping his arms around the other boy. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Will giggles. He leans forward, taking advantage of the fact that Nico is already in his lap to scoop him up, carrying him across the cabin and depositing him gently onto his own bed.

Nico can't quite keep the stupid smile from his face as Will pulls off Nico's shoes, then his own, climbing into the bed and covering them both.

Will snuggles against him, draping an arm over Nico’s waist and nuzzling into his neck. And for the first time in weeks, Nico realizes he can imagine a time past this. Past the prophecy and Tartarus and the knot of worry in his stomach. He turns his head against Will’s and sighs.

“After Tartarus,” he says, “do you wanna like… go to Disney World?”

He can feel Will’s soft laugh against his skin, can hear the smile in his voice, “Definitely.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Will agrees.

"I should really change. And brush my teeth. And shower," Nico says reluctantly as Will snuggles even closer. Gods, he's so warm.

"Mm mm," Will disagrees sleepily. "Stay with me."

Nico presses a kiss to the mess of blonde hair next to him. "Okay. I will."

___

Title is from True Colors by Cyndi Lauper. Thanks for reading! :)

[deathlesun]

sol's gambit headcanons

IT'S HAPPENING WHOAGH. Let it be known I'm still relatively new to Marvel and comics, so there may be some things in here that clash, i dunno please be nice to me, I just love this little guy so much ok

He is INCREDIBLE with his words. He is well spoken, well versed, and he can speak and write eloquently. He could very well write a novel if he wanted to - he's poetic and charming

Cooking master. He's good at cooking just about everything. He'll dabble in any kind of food and give it his own charm and it'll always come out incredible.

With long legs like that, my man is a dancer. He can do just about anything. Recently saw a post about how he pole dances and good HEAVENS I agree.

Nimble fingers call for good handsy crafts. I think he dabbles in everything even if he isn't necessarily good at it. Sewing, knitting, you name it. (I really like what suspiciouslyglowingmoss wrote about Gambit being an incredible textile crafter, please look into it)

If he were born without his eye mutation, I think he would have really milky chocolate eyes.

ADHD in the inability to sit still sense. He's twitchy, needs to fidget. Cards are his go to of course.

He jokes a lot but he knows when it's a good time and when he should refrain.

In that vein, he's also an incredible listener when you need to get something off your chest. He doesn't really do advice (he thinks he's a bad influence) but he offers you his shoulder and his sympathy.

Sweet tooth. Major. Chocolates only.

[jayextee]

Quake (1997, SEGA Saturn)

So y'all know I love me some Quake, yeah? Bet you're all absolutely unaliving to know what I think of the SEGA Saturn version, right?

Right so, this was my first Quake. This is where the love affair started. Guess it's a 5/5, then. Joking aside, when this dropped I was not the big DOOM freak I am now. I wasn't even all that into FPS games, having really only played PS1 DOOM, Alien Trilogy, and Exhumed on Saturn. That was it, really; some early-ass disinterested Wolfenstein 3D during lunch breaks at work experience notwithstanding.

I mention this because the frame of reference here is; WASD and mouse wasn't the standard control scheme yet. Nor was the twinstick equivalent for console. So we've got forward/backward and turning on the d-pad, strafe on the shoulder buttons, looking is done with a whole-ass button and up/down. Slow. And, according to some walking intellectual-vacuums, "literally unplayable".

Except it's not. It's different, that's all.

So. Way back when, a bigass deal was made of Trenton McReznorface from the band Ten Inch Tacks doing the soundtrack for Quake. It's an ambient, unsettling, weird horror soundtrack and evokes a terrifying atmosphere. It's absolutely as tonally far-removed from a Quake Done Quick speedrun as you can get, but for crawling along with slightly-stodgy controls as you squint to see what's in the middle distance at such a low resolution, it's fine. And that's the Saturn Quake experience, really. I sound like I'm insulting it, but no.

My first experience of Quake was that of a horror FPS, much like DOOM 3 attempted to be, and many of my non-circlestrafing friends playing the PlayStation version of DOOM considered that to be. It just seemed to be the 'in' thing, slow-paced first-person shooters designed to scare the everliving shit out of you. And for consoles bereft of those twitchy 'kbm' controls, that's precisely what they were.

And so, Saturn Quake has a low resolution and not the smoothest frame rate. But it's good for what it is, y'know?

I kinda wanna spell it out another way as well. A personal computer (heh, even back in the '90s we called 'em "PCs", I just didn't want to bundle a bunch of caps together at the start of a sentence) that could run Quake in 1997 would probably set a person back the better part of a thousand quid, if not exactly that when factoring in a half-decent monitor and speaker setup; something console owners already 'had' in the form of the TV they'd connect their machine to. Consoles, however, couple of hundred. They weren't quite as powerful (you'd think? But platform games pretty much always sucked on PC for some reason, a few notable but rare exceptions aside).

And yet, this game for powerful PCs was here running on the "shit, can't do 3D" underdog games machine of the era. HOW? DO WE NEED TO BURN THE DEVS AS WITCHES?

Right here was a marvellous tech demo for the Saturn. It wasn't 1:1, not least because instead of id Tech it used Lobotomy Software's proprietary 'SlaveDriver' (so named for being the engine of PowerSlave, the US name for Exhumed) engine. But, seriously, nobody thought this would even work. And, if someone tried to do it, it would not be expected to be even half as good as these final results. SEGA Saturn Magazine UK said "it had no right" being as good as it was. They were correct.

Okay so it's the best tech demo ever in 1997 and is the equivalent of running the latest games in 2025 on a literal potato. Was it that good?

Despite my praise, nah. It was good, don't get me wrong here, but there are certain quibbles that taint the experience. Autoaim, needed for the standard control scheme with 'look' button (because there is a more-modern, kinda, scheme hidden in the game for peeps with the NiGHTS controller...) often aims more at enemies' feets than their bodies, meaning many of my precious nails from the nailgun end up spent in the floor or the ledge that a given target is stood upon.

At close range with the shotguns, sometimes it would appear that my shots were flat-out going through enemies. Not ideal.

I say 'taint', but it's not complete ruination. It's a good game, if you can stomach a slightly-low framerate and resolution, and are willing to take it at a snail's pace. But hey, enjoy the horror of it all, yeah? 3.5/5

[tgirldomme]

aaaaaa ur so gorgeous in that dress of yours on your pinned!! makes me want to sit on your lap and marvel at the pearls and the lace, i'd be too flustered to look at you directly but i'd still try to smile and show my adoration (／(エ)＼) . i'm a little twitchy though, too eager for my own good.

— a very appreciative transmasc 🐇

tehehehe, such a sweet little thing… and oh how i love having pretty boys in my lap, stroking their hair, pulling them close while caressing their shoulder-blades with my nails…

although i do wander if you’d be able to sit in my lap easily, since something tells me a decent proportion of it might be… occupied… as soon as you walk through the door ;)

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

Iron Will

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64330204 by Lemontasia He came back alive. But he didn’t come back whole. Peter Parker was missing for months. When the Avengers finally found him, he wasn’t the same. Silent, twitchy, and disturbingly obedient, Peter is a shell of the kid he used to be—rewired by Hydra, his memories shattered, his instincts weaponized. Now, housed in the Stark lab, Peter doesn’t speak. He doesn’t recognize his friends. He doesn’t even know his own name. His body heals at terrifying speed, but his mind remains trapped in a haze of trauma, violence, and forgotten identity. Tony Stark is determined to fix him. He doesn’t care how long it takes or how much it breaks him in the process. But as Peter’s behavior grows more animal than human—and the threat of what Hydra left buried inside him begins to surface—the line between saving the kid and losing him completely starts to blur. Because Peter didn’t come back alone. Daily updates (except Sunday) Words: 9336, Chapters: 3/?, Language: English Series: Part 2 of IronDad and SpiderSon Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Flash Thompson, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Bruce Banner Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Additional Tags: Hydra Peter Parker, Peter Parker Whump, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Protective Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has Issues, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Hurt Peter Parker, BAMF Peter Parker, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Dead Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Aunt May Parker is a Good Aunt (Marvel), Aunt May was a good aunt lol, Peter Parker is Not Okay, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, BAMF Michelle Jones (Marvel), Good Friend Michelle Jones (Marvel), Worried Ned Leeds, Ned Leeds Needs a Hug, Ned Leeds has PTSD, Peter Parker Has Fangs, Peter Parker has Spinnerets | Organic Web-Shooters, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, spiderson, Irondad, Sassy Tony Stark, Sassy Peter Parker, Awesome Michelle Jones (Marvel) read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/64330204

[twh-news]

Loki Season 2 reviews are in! While critics still praise the Tom Hiddleston series… the reviews are not quite as good as Season 1

With just two days left before Season 2 of Loki debuts on Disney Plus, the first wave of reviews have come in… and they're not quite as positive as Season 1.

Loki - which continues the adventures of Tom Hiddleston's God of Mischeif title character - debuted in June 2021 with a 92% score from critics on Rotten Tomatoes.

While most of the Marvel Cinematic Universe's first TV shows on Disney Plus were considered one-offs, Loki was the first to get a second season, and later touted by Marvel President Kevin Feige as the 'most-watched' Marvel Studios series.

Now the reviews are in for Season 2 ahead of its October 5 debut on Disney Plus, with a slightly-lower 82% score from the first 50 reviews on Rotten Tomatoes.

The involvement of Jonathan Majors, who returns as Kang, amid his arrest for domestic violence, was also troubling for many critics.

Rolling Stone's Alan Sepinwall called Majors, 'the big problem' with the season in his negative review published Tuesday.

'It’s not his performance, which remains a weirdly compelling live-wire act, full of odd, halting line deliveries and twitchy physicality. Instead, it’s the ugly real-world circumstances surrounding him,' Sepinwall began.

'After the season was filmed, Majors was arrested and charged with domestic violence against his romantic partner, which led to Rolling Stone uncovering a pattern of alleged abusive behavior going back a decade. Majors was set to play the big bad for the next few phases of the MCU. Instead, it’s impossible to imagine him ever appearing in a Marvel project after this one,' he added.

ComicBook.com's Nicole Drum gave the season a positive review (3.5 stars out of 5), but even she admitted something felt off, compared to Season 1.

'Season 2 definitely doesn’t suffer from the pitfalls that would make people continue to question if superhero fatigue is real or not, but through characterizations, pacing, and too much self-awareness, it definitely feels like a very different show,' she said.

She said the first episode debuting on Thursday, 'is hectic, throwing new concepts, characters, and threats into the story with little explanation and little reason for fans to be invested.'

'When the premiere does try to stop and ruminate on what Loki just experienced in the Season 1 finale, the end result becomes rushed and confusing,' she continued, adding the, 'overstuffed and slightly frenetic chaos' sets the tone in the four episodes (of the six-episode season) that were screened for critics.

Mashable's Belen Edwards added in her negative review that Season 2 delved into the first season's worst aspects.

'Instead of digging into what makes Loki fun, the show's second season doubles down on Season 1's worst tendencies… It's a drag when it should be thrilling, an exposition-filled trudge when it should be an exciting romp,' she said.

USA Today's Brian Truitt gave Loki Season 2 a positive review (3 stars out of 4), stating, 'Sometimes you feel like you need a theoretical physics degree to understand it all. Strong character work makes up for some of that, as does a knowing sense of humor.'

He added the new season, 'couldn't come sooner, as the Marvel Cinematic Universe films are starting to feel a little repetitive and a plethora of disparate TV series haven't helped.'

IGN Movies' Jarrod Jones gave the season a negative review (5 of 10), adding, 'Tom Hiddleston’s Loki is back for more multiversal shenanigans, but the absence of director Kate Herron seems to have sapped the wily fun from his Disney+ spinoff.'

Like many reviews - even the negative ones - Jones praised the addition of newly-minted Oscar winner Ke Huy Quan.

Quan plays a Time Variance Authority (TVA) 'basement-dwelling repair guy' named Ouroboros, 'whose jovial presence gives Season 2 a much-needed boost from its overall mopey tone.'

ComicBookMovie's Josh Wilding called Season 2, 'a masterclass in imaginative storytelling' adding the show represents, 'the MCU at its best and a riveting new chapter in the Multiverse Saga that’s mind-bending, monumental, and utterly marvellous,' adding, 'and as a bonus, Ke Huy Quan is a scene-stealing delight!'

Collider's Therese Lacson added, 'Season 1 was well-loved, and with a fan-favorite character like Hiddleston’s God of Mischief at the helm, Season 2 proves that the series not only hasn’t lost its touch but remains one of the stronger pillars of the MCU as a whole.'

However The Daily Beast's Nick Schager said in his negative review, 'Its convolutions overwhelming its charming personalities and freewheeling spirit of paradox-laden adventure, it’s another indication that the once-mighty franchise has lost its direction.'

London Evening Standard's Vicky Jessop added, 'It's all a bit wearying' when describing the entirety of the season that was screened for critics.

Indenpendent UK's Louis Chilton added, 'More than anything, Loki has started to resemble what it truly is: an ill-advised spinoff in the old tradition. A too-bright spotlight for a side character who was never best suited to lead. A dinner comprising only hors d’oeuvres.'

'Loki season two is a jaw-dropping magical experience that will ultimately leave you clamoring for more, with high stakes twists and turns that’ll keep you on the edge of your seat!' added ComicBookMovie's Rohan Patel.

[kiyfra]

For mermay I have decided to upload my fic, Do You Believe the Depths Would Harbour You? to Tumblr. It can be read here or on AO3 and I hope to have the next chapter completed this month.

Chapter 4: Thalassophobia

It was roughly a fortnight ago they had left the foul waters of Prehevil and followed the strongest currents they could find with the hopes of reaching open sea. The two of them had the good fortune of coming upon a winding river they could follow downstream for hundreds of miles, a huge artery of water that carried them straight to the ocean. It was deep enough to skirt past ships and towns built around ports, unnoticed along the bottom, and they had spent the weeks familiarizing themselves with their new aquatic existence. How the water around them responded to different movements, how sudden bursts of speed could catch prey unaware, and where to find calms spots to rest.

Marina talked excitedly about how they could travel anywhere in the ocean and all the sights they could see for nearly the entire trip and Levi tried to share her enthusiasm. It was nice seeing the Bohemian countryside drift past him without the twitchy nerves, nausea or full body aches after going too long without a hit of euphoria.

Too nice in fact, suspiciously so. His body no longer felt the craving for a needle under his skin, although the thought never truly left the back of his mind, and Levi feared the time would come to pay his dues. He had seen the mounds of corpses piled at the underwater altar and felt its darkness tugging at their minds and bodies. The gods had never answered his prayers before and he refused to believe this one would do something so benevolent. Neither did he believe Marina was foolish enough to think their escape was granted out of the sheer kindness of the gods’ hearts, but if she was optimistic then he could try to be as well.

They had excitedly swam through the mouth of the river into the sea through some busy port in Bremen and past turbulent waters clouded with silt, only stopping to take stock of their surroundings when the water stopped tasting so polluted. Marvelous blues and greens awaited them with carpets of seaweeds swaying in gentle currents, polyps and other odd creatures clinging to stone, and shoals of fish flashing in the sunlight that streamed in from dizzyingly high above.

“Sooooo, was it worth the trip?” Marina asked with a grin.

It was truly an alien world. Everything from the vibrant colours that eventually turned blue with distance to the drastic shifts in temperature from short dives was completely unfamiliar. And it felt comfortable, welcoming. The constant pressure was a gentle embrace that would be with him until death, one that bestowed his freedom and would freeze, starve, or crush the life out of him with a loving smile.

“It’s very different,” Levi stated.

“Different in a good way or a bad way?”

The sea was quite beautiful but no doubt dangerous in ways they scarcely understood and may not understand until it was too late. He recalled how they were tumbled in a somewhat choppy port or swiftly grew tired when they tried to swim against the current. The two of them had only experienced mild weather in mid-autumn; who knew how they would fare when winter turned the seas colder and less forgiving. Levi thought of the limitless ocean‘s allure with all the secrets it hid and wished he still had his rifle with him.

“Both,” he decided. “…Everything feels…connected. Nothing is separate.”

“How so?” Marina raised an eyebrow quizzically as she waited for him to elaborate.

“I dunno… I used to think water…” Already he felt foolish in front of her, his tongue becoming stuck in his mouth while he tried to think of how to explain what he was thinking. “…was either clean or dirty…”

Levi gently glided down to a sandy bank with Marina following closely and dragged a hand through the soil for a demonstration where a decent sized cloud was kicked up from the disturbance.

“The water around us isn’t clean or dirty… Some of it falls back down, some is carried away and some gets carried to us.“

Lakes led into rivers and then seas, water travelling through currents across vast distances, continuous and ever changing. There weren’t boundaries marking where one body of water started and another ended. Salinity was a gradient and tendrils of warmth and light still reached cold, dark areas with one place flowing into the next

“These don’t feel like separate things or processes… The temperature changes so fast going up or down and I can feel you- I can feel when you’re nearby from movements in the water.“

Was that a weird thing to say?

“Sorry. I’m not making any sense, am I?”

Levi shook his head, wishing he had the soul of a poet. There were plenty of soldiers that wrote long letters, poems and memoirs, but Levi never developed that skill with no one to dedicate them to. Maybe the solitary soul could have offered the world eloquent words or beautiful art borne from its isolated existence. A contemplative soul with a lonely heart aching to be heard, but the chance to nurture and refine it was long gone.

“No, I kinda get what you mean. Maybe it’s just because it’s new to us, but I’m a lot more aware of my surroundings than I used to be. And everything does mix together underwater.”

Levi decided to continue, relieved he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself after all.

“…I’m not sure what to expect… I’m glad we’re here though.”

“Mmhmm.” Marina nodded along. “Just hoping you weren’t having any buyer’s remorse. I’m going to have a look around. See you back here in a bit!”

“O-okay, try not to go too far,” he said as she swam away.

Visibility wasn’t great and he could only see about ten yards in any given direction before the surroundings were swallowed up by a blue fog. He wasn’t sure they’d notice any danger in time and Levi felt far too exposed. Were there sharks around?

For much of his life he counted on being able to spot small specks of movement from a distance and the government issued rifle strapped to his back. Sounds travelled confusingly over much farther distances and it was difficult to determine how far away they originated from, or how large their source was. It was going to take some time to become attuned to his new senses and environment, but their survival likely depended on it. Food wasn’t always going to be easy to come by and danger could be lurking unexpectedly.

Marina seemed rather unconcerned, always carrying herself with the same confidence he saw in her as a young girl walking the streets of Prehevil with her group of friends all those years ago. The confidence of someone with an actual future and who knew they were meant for better things. For all the restrictions and monitoring that must have come with being the priest’s daughter, Levi figured she hadn’t much exposure to danger before Termina.

Well, that was fine.

He was acutely aware the only reason he was alive was the occultist’s formal education regarding the otherworldly, an education that was beyond the reach of someone like him, and her willingness to take him along. It was completely fair if she needed him to return the favour and he wasn’t going to complain about being useful. Far more noble to follow and fight for a lady’s sake than the meat grinder he left behind.

Marina had already disappeared out of sight, leaving Levi alone with his thoughts. It was strange not having her fill the silence her own thoughts and opinions or asking him what was on his mind. Far less reserved than he was, she was constantly suggesting and dragging him into things that he wouldn’t have the courage to try on his own.

The occultist’s spontaneity often alarmed him, but Levi knew she was no fool. The tendency of hers had saved his life and he would always defer to her expertise in such matters. It was easy to let himself be slotted into her life and concerns.

Levi drifted about without much direction, feeling aimless and ill at ease as he explored. They were technically still in Bremen territory in this part of the ocean and he wondered whether the abrupt peace talks were truly the end of the war. How long would it take for Europa to rebuild? Which bombed out towns or no man’s lands would belong to them when the borders were redrawn? He supposed it wasn’t really his problem anymore.

Amongst the crag was some movement from a large brown crab that caught his eye. It slowly clambered sideways over uneven rock and Levi hovered nearby for a closer look. He had become well accustomed with the movements required of his eel-like body and the maneuverability it offered him, circling the crab cautiously in observation. Sensing the danger, it started scuttling faster and raised its pincers above its head in defence. It couldn’t run fast enough to keep its claws facing the predator maneuvering himself around it, and without even questioning why, Levi tried to discern how he could grab it while avoiding a painful pinch. The crab couldn’t rotate its pincers behind itself and Levi only hesitated for a brief moment before he scooped up the wary crustacean from the ocean floor.

Pleased with himself for having successfully caught dinner, he figured it was time to go find Marina, ignoring the creature flailing its legs to no avail. She wasn’t back where they first split up and Levi could only bring himself to wait anxiously for a few minutes before he went off in search of her. They only had a few more hours of daylight before the sea was plunged into an eerie twilight and he feared he’d never find her.

Time dragged on as he fruitlessly looked for any sign of Marina with the waters becoming tinged orange and the shadows growing deeper. The ex-soldier couldn’t shake the fear that shouting her name too loud would draw the attention of an unwanted something, so he repeatedly called out with as much volume as a whisper would allow.

He finally found her floating over a drop off, her back turned while she was peering down into the yawning void below. Levi cautiously swam over the cliff side for an uncomfortably long distance towards the occultist where she watched beams of light fade into the murky depths.

“Marina?”

“Oh? Levi… I swam out here and was hit by sudden vertigo. I can’t even tell how far down it goes. It’s dizzying to look at, isn’t it?” Marina asked with a voice that sounded far away.

The ex-soldier wasn’t afraid of heights; a high vantage point or overnight camp in tree branches away from a ground turned quagmire was one of the few promises of safety he was given in the army. He obviously didn’t die from it so what was the point? Instead, Levi worried about what might be gazing up at them from below.

“Not really… I mean- it’s not like we’re going to fall to our deaths.”

“I know that!” Her defence came out shrill and embarrassed.

It seemed his arrival snapped her out of whatever trance she was in and she saw the crab still spreading its pincers threateningly in his hands. “Did you catch us dinner?”

Levi nodded and they swam back to the safety of the rocky outcropping, settling down and reclining near the edge. It had been early that morning when they last ate and the emptiness of his stomach was becoming unbearable. He supposed now they were meant to eat their catch, shell, spindly limbs and all. Even if their teeth were strong enough to break through its carapace, they would still get a mouthful of tiny shards that would be impossible to pick out of the meat.

“I’m… not sure how to approach this,” Levi said.

It was equally unclear how to proceed when they caught their first fish, finally managing to snag one with their claws after many failed attempts. The surprise and delight gave way to confusion at what to do with the frantically wriggling creature bleeding out in Marina’s grasp. Apprehension followed when they soon realized they would be finding themselves tearing into the creature’s flesh with their teeth, then disgust when they discovered they liked it. Through some trial and error, the pair learned how to shear away the sweet tasting meat while avoiding pin bones and unpleasant looking guts.

“Maybe we could crack it open with a rock?” Marina suggested before making a face at the morbid idea.

It would scuttle away the moment he put it down and he doubted he could make a swift killing blow with it in his hands.

“I’d have to pull the legs off so it can’t escape,” he stated while twisting at the joints.

If Marina had any objections to the grizzly solution, she didn’t voice them. Levi acted swiftly to put the poor creature out of its misery, but any sympathy he had felt like a detached understanding. It was just a fact of nature that everything had to eat and the ex-soldier only killed for survival. That was all he ever did. They had no right to bear a grudge against a man that only wanted to live, just as he had no right to harbour resentment against those poor souls stuck in the mud with lost limbs, innards spilling out, and faces that shouldn’t still haunt him.

He gripped the rock so hard that his hand started to hurt and brought it down with as much force as he could muster. The shell cracked and splintered and Levi brought the rock down again for good measure, it’s head now an unrecognizable mess. It was dead now and they had dinner. He could stop thinking about the points of its legs as it tried futilely to shove him away or imagine it looking up with a pleading expression at its executioner.

Marina took a claw for herself and pried segments open to scrape out the meat while Levi took the main body. He cleared away broken shell before scooping a handful of innards soaked with fluids out of the cavity. It was a lot chewier than fish with a pleasant flavour and they both ate in silence with only the messy sounds of cracking shell to accompany their dinner. Marina stared out into the empty expanse where green and orange intermingled with murky deep and Levi wished she’d say something.

“I’ve never had crab before,” he mumbled.

His parents couldn’t have afforded such a luxury and the orphanage certainly wasn’t going to shell out money for something so frivolous, so bread and soup it was. As repetitive as the army’s c-rations were, plenty of soldiers found a bit of levity guessing what their dinner would be when the labels were too damaged to read. Levi was usually right when he guessed corned beef and hardtack.

“Do you like it?” she asked hopefully.

“Yeah… It might sound a bit strange, but I think this new seafood diet might be the best I’ve ever eaten.”

Food had almost always been something begrudgingly given to keep him sustained, but never nourished. To keep up the appearance of being charitable or to have one more set of boots on the ground. Making no promises but holding no expectations, he was now freely offered anything he could obtain from the ocean’s bounty, perhaps the supposed generosity of Vinushka at work.

Levi tried to recall the best food he’d ever had. He was tempted to say it was something his mother made for him when he was young, though his memories were too foggy to recall more than a general feeling. The army offered far more generous meals than the usual fare around Yuletide; roast turkeys, hams, sides and deserts to be enjoyed with the likelihood of a lull in combat.

Then there was the night before his final mission. Cuts of beef with marbling that would have been reserved for the top brass, vegetables that were fresher than expected and a sauce that had been heavily spiced. The rest of his squadron didn’t find the offerings of seconds with ale to wash it down suspicious and happily tucked into their dinner. He still wasn’t sure if the uncharacteristic generosity was an order from above or if a rouge kitchen attendant on base took it upon themselves to provide some small kindness towards the soldiers not expected to return.

“Mmhmm.” Marina made a noise of agreement while struggling to pry open a crab leg. “I only really started appreciating seafood after going to study abroad.”

She talked at length about various dishes she’d tasted while studying in Vatican City along with desserts, restaurants she’d visited and Levi noted the undercurrent of sadness in her reminiscing. There was no way she’d ever be able to have any of them again, one of the many things she had to give up for a life beneath the waves.

“There were a bunch of fancy restaurants with seafood buffets, but we could have lobster and oysters every night if we wanted to!”

It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself, but Levi kept that thought to himself.

“Thanks for getting us dinner, by the way.” She had finished off the last of the legs. “Eating crab while watching the sunset made for a pretty romantic evening. “

His face grew hot at remembering that she hadkissed him once. The ex-soldier didn’t dare allow himself to dwell on the event, let alone ask if she had meant anything by it.

He already felt like a creep for the involuntary images that occasionally flashed through his mind; the ribbon on her blouse coming loose and wondering what she would look like without it, her slender fingers and delicate mouth on him, small beads of water reminiscent of sweat. It seemed depraved for a worthless junkie that could barely string a coherent sentence together to think such lewd things about her.

“Oh! Do you think we could find pearls?” Marina perked up at the idea and turned towards him expectantly.

Levi never really thought about how pearls were found; obviously they came from clams, but he wasn’t sure how common pearls were or if they could only be found in certain species. They must be rare, but if people went diving for them and found enough for entire jewelry industries, they couldn’t be that uncommon.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t see why not.”

“Awesome!” She got up and motioned for him to follow.

Wait, right now?

“It will be nighttime soon and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not go looking in the dark,” Marina explained as if she could read his mind.

Was such a thing even possible? After all Levi had seen, there was very little he’d rule out and little he’d believe the occultist was incapable of.

They abandoned the empty carapaces to be picked over by scavengers and headed back to the soft sands where shellfish might be hiding. Marina seemed to be easily distracted during their search and kept carelessly brushing against him as they swam, his stomach doing a nervous flip-flop with each brief contact. She would wander off and look back while Levi was scanning the sea floor. Was she getting bored already? And why was she staring at him?

Marina abruptly darted off and Levi quickly went after her in confusion. She tried to put distance between herself and the ex-soldier without vanishing from sight, frequently checking to make sure she hasn’t lost him. Content she was successfully leading him around, she made rapid dives and ascensions and zipped around rock formations, challenging him to keep up while schools of fish parted around her. This turned out to be a mistake on her part as Levi’s superior maneuverability allowed him to turn faster to close the distance between them with every change in direction she made, though a grin never left her face.

There was no way out as he snaked around the rock she had stationed between them and her evasive maneuvers turned frantic when he reached out to catch her. Marina let out a laugh as she barely escaped his grasp and swam away and Levi couldn’t help but laugh too. The two of them raced about and around each other in delight, swapping between who was chasing who as green and orange scenery rushed past them.

After a moment’s pause, Marina decided to experiment and flipped over onto her back, finding that her typical swimming motion still carried her along at the same speed. She continued upside down, free to watch the boy in pursuit above her and with enough altitude to be confident she wasn’t about to crash into anything.

Fields of crag and green plant matter sloped away further below and Levi watched as the occultist unwittingly shot past the drop off, a slight worry gnawing at him. The bright pinks and whites were like an obvious beacon signalling the presence of prey, foolish and unaware. He felt like he should warn her, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment and perhaps he was being unreasonably paranoid.

Finally she slowed down, allowing him to catch up. He cruised along above her for several relaxed moments, wondering what she had planned next, when she wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face against his shoulder. Levi froze in shock at the warmth of her hands placed on his back and the feeling of her hair brushing against his neck before he allowed himself to relax into the embrace.

The meaning behind the gesture didn’t matter in the moment. They were finally somewhere the past couldn’t reach them, where old reservations and notions of what was proper no longer counted for anything. Marina never worried about whether she was deserving of the things she wanted or any fortune that came her way; maybe it was okay to just enjoy a simple pleasure granted to him. The hunger for more still felt wrong, every craving of the body meant to be denied, every bit of spoiled selfishness and perversion to be rooted out. Levi reassured himself that he wasn’t asking for too much if he was only taking what was given.

Both of them were gently pitched and pulled by the swelling of the ocean, content to let orange sunlight cast its last rays of warmth for the day upon them with neither saying anything. Levi didn’t want it to end and it would be way out of line to ask to spend the night in each other’s arms after she let go. He was tempted to let drowsiness take him and drift off with her in the open sea, though he knew that would be a terrible idea.

They were not alone.

Peering up at them through the dark was a pale white face, gaunt with empty black eyes and lips that couldn’t hide pointed teeth. Though roughly human and feminine in appearance with long black hair fading into the darkness, the sallow face and hands evoked creatures that lived in the deepest recesses of the ocean.

Marina noticed Levi going stiff in her arms and turned back onto her front, surprised at where they ended up. She quickly spotted the pale figure lurking in the dark and froze on the spot.

The creature spying on them made no move, continuing their stare down with an unreadable expression. Without breaking eye contact, the ivory skinned enigma retreated downwards and vanished back into the dark, swallowed up by the murk with no hint where they had gone or that they were ever there in the first place.

The duo reflected uneasily on how little they actually knew about their new world. On the dying daylight that would leave no distinction between the darkness below and the world above. They swam back to shallower waters to find some shelter from the oncoming night, frequently checking behind them to make sure they weren’t being followed.

—————————————

No sunlight reached so far below, but a faint blue light pulsed along a black, scaled body as it glided through the dark. The light emanated from various sigils that had been carved into her body throughout the years, nearly every Old God represented in scarred tissue.

Reaching out with her mind, she could still feel the two faint presences that had sought shelter for the impending night. Even as far away as she lurked, Samarie knew she could recognize the essence of such an extraordinary person from anywhere, like a thread connecting them.

She had been so… perfect.

Framed by the golden sunlight above like an angel descended to earth, the girl had been unknowingly peering down upon the wretched, unworthy thing hidden out of sight below.

It was easy and felt natural to slip past her stream of thought into the recesses of her mind and see the secrets she kept to herself. How they were both students of the occult and how they had both been changed by the same dark forces.

Samarie knew of gods and practices long forgotten by the rest of the world, rituals and black magics that begged to be taught. She would happily tell Marina anything she wanted, but she couldn’t let herself be seen yet. Not when every move of her bulbous lips gave a flash of needle like teeth. With stringy hair more akin to putrid kelp, knobby, skeletal hands, and black eyes that hungrily ate up the slightest bit of light.

Marina wasn’t ready to come face to face with abyssal things that dwelled in the deep, let alone love one that slithered up to her. So Samarie contented herself with eating her own meal hidden many feet below the drop off and wistfully allowed herself to believe they were sharing a dinner.

It was a mistake to get too close so soon. She couldn’t help drifting a little further up into the warm world above, committed to memorizing every sweeping movement and curve of Marina’s body before she was spotted. Of course she was horrified by Samarie’s repulsive visage leering at her; she didn’t need to read her mind to see the disgusted expressed on her face. Marina didn’t see the beauty of drab misshapen things that dwelled in the only place she called home.

But she could learn to.

She could be shown the language of hypnotic bioluminescence and how creatures of the abyssal black survived without sunlight. Samarie would do anything to be with such a goddess, to bridge their separate worlds. This must be what being in love is like.

Yes… she loved her…