#which like. i suppose its because its taking from so many fields and not just creative writing shit

[james-silenthill]

The AI art thing is a complicated and multifaceted thing and I am not fully on either side. #libra

[cressidagrey]

Don't wait for the Sky to Clear - Thesan x PeregrynCaptain!Lover x FourthArcheron!Sister

Summary:

The Fourth Archeron sister makes herself a life in the Dawn Court. 

Warnings:

DEFINETLY NSFW. SERIOUSLY. THIS HAS NO PLOT.

Notes:

I...I have no idea where this came from. It popped into my head fully formed a few weeks ago...and this is the result. There is probbaly never going to be a second story in this universe, but it's...interesting, so you'll get it.

(thanks to @tsunami-of-tears for the super pretty dividers!)

“They are nearly as beautiful as you.”

Carys’ lips quirked up in a smile at these words. 

Said in that lazy drawl that she had become so used to over the last few months…her husband. 

Well, one of them at least. 

She let go of the flower petals she had fondled gently, beautiful, colourful tulips, dotted everywhere around the Dawn Court. 

“Flatterer,” Carys said lightly but took his hand as he held it out for her. 

She gained her feet and turned towards him, towards brilliant brown eyes, towards these beautiful white feathered wings that stretched vastly behind his back. Ardin quirked his lips at her.

“Just telling the truth,” Ardin quipped. “Finished with your flowers for the day?” He asked her and she hummed in agreement…pulling deep inside her for that kernel of power she had. 

The flower grew underneath her hands a few inches more. She smiled to herself. 

She didn’t have the power of death…or of the future. This was all the cauldron had decided to give her. She was quite sure that it had been its revenge for Nesta taking more than she should have. 

Carys should probably consider herself lucky that she hadn’t ended up with horns or something like that. 

Letting flowers grow…It was a nice party trick, she supposed. 

It was more useful on the potato fields further away from the Palace than it ever could be in little fields of tulips right here…but she would gladly take it nonetheless.

Granted, it had taken her months to master even that, but it was…it was something. It was all she could do and that suited her just fine.  

“Yes,” Carys agreed and Ardin leaned down to pick up her basket, in which she had kept the flower she had cut for the day, snatching it up and then offering her his arm…as graceful as any human courtier she had ever met had been. 

Sometimes…sometimes she missed it. Being human. 

Carys never voiced that aloud, because she knew that…there weren’t many people that would understand. And the ones that did understand… her sisters…well, that relationship was fraught with tension on a good day. 

Carys couldn’t even fault them. Especially not Feyre…Carys had managed to kick loose a diplomatic incident when she had left the Night Court. 

But she hadn’t been able to stay any longer. Not after…She had been half hysterical with fear. Fear of her sister’s mate of all people, after what happened to Nesta…after they had had enough of her drinking and…other things… and had…pretty much imprisoned her in the House of Wind.

Elain seemingly hadn’t thought about what that could mean for her or Carys…but Carys had thought about it. Carys had realised at that exact moment that if she didn’t do what her sister thought was the right thing to do…she would be the next one kept as a prisoner and the whole thing would be called an intervention. 

Nesta had needed an intervention after the kind of self-destructive behaviour she had indulged in, but the way they had gone about it…it had made Carys terrified. 

And so she had run. 

She had half a mind to take Elain with her but she knew her sister…Elain, most of all…most of all would do whatever she needed to be comfortable and taken care of. 

Elain could be surprisingly cutthroat if need be.

Carys, second oldest after Nesta…the one that had spent years keeping the household running while living in that bedraggled little shed, that had absolutely no talent at archery to be quite frank, but could haul the laundry and cut the wood and stack a fire…that could babysit some of the villagers kids and make sure that they weren’t outright going to starve…that tried to plant potatoes on the tiny plot of land they had and had only been successful half the time…who had mended and hemmed and done anything she could to at least earn her keep. 

Carys, who was considered the ugliest of the sister, to stoutly build, not pretty enough…who even her mother had considered unmarriageable, because who would want an ugly wife with no talents other than maybe cooking and sometimes planting vegetables…

If her mother could see her now…she would be horrified.

“You know, I would prefer it if you called me something else rather than flatterer,” Ardin quipped, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

“Consort?” She suggested drily. That’s what she had heard some people in the palace start to call Ardin, who hated it with a passion. 

But what else to call the husband of a High Lord? Prythian had never had that problem before. Or even a High Lord that had taken not one but two spouses. 

(Probably the one outright shocking thing Thesan had ever done in his life.)

Even when the law in the Dawn Court had been on their side…already changed centuries ago to make it possible for everybody to take as many spouses of any sex as anybody desired, as long as all parties did this of their own free will and were above the age of consent…

 Ardin had drily explained to her that in the ranks of the Peregryn, it wasn’t uncommon for a female to have more than one lover. Or even two. Some had a whole harem of sorts. 

Well, Carys wasn’t going to start that. Two were more than enough as far as she was concerned, thank you very much.                                                                                                                               

“Thanks but I prefer commander of the troops,” Ardin gave back and she smiled at him. 

“The right hand that speaks with the High Lord’s voice and commands in his stead?” She suggested and he just sighed. 

“Cauldron, Thesan came up with it, didn’t he?” Ardin asked and Carys just smiled, saying nothing. “You know, he likes reading poetry and pretends like we don’t know.” 

They did both know about their High Lord's penchant for that…about the sweet little nothings that were whispered in their ears…and the surprisingly filthy things he spewed when he was in the right mood…she loved everything that talented tongue said or did. 

“Husband?” Carys suggested next and he grinned at her, pressing her hand. 

“You could just call me by my name.”

“Ardin, then,” she agreed. 

“Though, of course, you could call me your cauldron-given gift whenever I please you enough to scream my…” she jabbed her elbow in his ribs, smiling apologetically to a long-suffering servant that crossed their path on their way up to their rooms. 

“Not here,” she hissed to Ardin between her teeth. 

“And here I thought we had ruined you so thoroughly that you don’t care anymore,” Ardin quipped. Her shoulders hunched. 

“Humans don’t talk about…that,” she said, her voice quiet. Her cheeks were reddening on their own accord.

She couldn’t help it.  

It wasn’t that she was…ashamed of her husbands. 

She wasn’t. 

But she also knew that if she was still human…this would have never happened. She would have never, never been the one that…She would have never…never taken two husbands. 

There wouldn’t ever have been pleasure like this in her marriage bed. It would have been duty, not love. 

And still…there was a part of her that wanted to keep it to herself. All of it. That didn’t think that anybody had a right to talk about it other than the three of them when they were alone. That thought that…

“I am sorry,” Ardin apologised to her, as he opened the door to their rooms. “I shouldn’t have teased you like that.” He sounded properly contrite now. 

“I should be over it,” Carys responded quietly. 

Overall the human ideas of propriety and modesty and what she shouldn’t do…she shouldn’t blush beet red whenever one of her husbands kissed her outside of the privacy of their rooms. She should be…

She should be able to give them…

“No, you shouldn’t be,” Ardin disagreed, grimacing. “This isn’t…” he stopped his own sentence, as they both heard the slow sound of water filling the bathtub and without a word, they changed direction…her basket of flowers forgotten on a console table.

The bathing chamber was…utterly fae…with a pool worked into the ground that was more than big enough for all three of them. Actually, they had taught Carys to swim in the same. It was more than big enough for that too. 

Thesan was there, lounging relaxed against one of the stone walls, one eye blinking open lazily as he took in the two of them entering. 

A smile appeared on his face, like the sun rising over the horizon and she swallowed at how lovely he looked. 

“There you are,” he greeted them. “I had dinner laid out on the balcony for late.”

“He’s the romantic one,” Ardin whispered playfully and she couldn’t help but smile at her husband as he watched her, dark eyes turning heated, as she started to remove her clothing. 

Ardin helped her after a moment, unlacing the back of her bodice… It was easy enough to slip out of the layers of light, gossamer soft fabric that swathed her body…to pull out the hair comb that held back her reddish brown waves…

She had given up on modesty with the two of them a long time ago. 

And so when she walked into the pool and crossed it to perch herself next to her husband so that she could press a soft kiss against Thesan’s lips…she smiled. 

“Good Evening,” he greeted her as she pulled back, a hand coming up to cup her cheek.  “Did you have a good time?” Thesan asked her. 

“Yes,” Carys agreed. “I gardened a little bit…fed the fish…fixed that shirt that Ardin ripped off you a few days ago…” she quipped with some amusement. “And you?”

“Sat through a meeting about property taxes,” Thesan answered with a hum, as she carded her hand through his damp hair. His dark eyes closed and she shifted, making herself more comfortable, perched on his thigh. 

“You like taxes,” she said softly. He did. It fascinated her that the actual reigning part of being a High Lord, of taxes and making decisions for his court…that was something that Thesan excelled at. He knew all of it by heart too…what was the highest selling export from the Dawn Court, what didn’t sell at all, what they needed from Day or Night or Summer and Autumn…or even Winter and Spring. 

He knew all of that, and he spent many late evenings sitting on his desk, working through his correspondence and doing exactly that. 

Carys left him to him. She wasn’t ready to dabble in politics. And quite frankly, she didn’t think she had any right to it either. 

She had only been in Dawn Court for what felt like a blink of the eyes for most faes, a footnote as far as the history was concerned. And she didn’t think she had any right to rule over faes that were far older and more experienced than she was. 

“It was actually quite interesting,” Thesan agreed with her. 

If she wanted to know something, Thesan was eager to explain it to her, to answer all her questions, but Carys herself kept her own political involvement to the walls of this palace, dealing with servants and cooks and laundry maids and whoever else they hired. 

This was what she had been raised to do, this was what she was good at…and when she got to use the math she had once learned as the daughter of the Prince of Merchant to calculate the expenditures of the palace and cut the fat so to speak…then she was more than happy to do that and spent the rest of her time growing medicinal herbs and do her best to earn her keep.

She left it to Thesan’s sister to deal with the nobility and some of the simpering ladies who treated her like a novelty…who stared at a cauldron-made female with fear and acquiescence. 

Carys had no plans to rule with fear. 

“And you, Ardin?” Thesan asked, closing their little circle of asking each other about their day.

“Oh, the usual. Dealt with some unrest, made somebody regret ever having been born…was an idiot.”

“Tell me something new,” Thesan gave back drily. “What did you do?” He wondered. One hand gently came up to card through her hair, gently making her lay back in the water so that he could wet her hair. 

“Ardin, you don’t…” she protested, but Ardin cut her off. 

“I teased Carys and I owe her an apology.”

“You don’t,” she protested feebly, as Thesan started to work soap throughout her hair, lathering it up, long skilled fingers, against her scalp. She nearly moaned from that alone. 

 “But I do,” Ardin disagreed. “I know that you like your modesty and your privacy and I knowingly violated both. I should not have done that.” 

“What did you say?” Thesan asked calmly, ever the mediator. Staying neutral in any conflict until he knew both sides. 

“Though, of course, you could call me your cauldron-given gift whenever I please you enough to scream my name,” Ardin repeated. “In earshot of one of the servants. I was out of line.” 

“I think that’s a bit harsh,” Carys protested. “The only one who overheard you was one sole servant. And you apologised for it! It’s not your fault that I am…unable to…properly acclimate.” The words were difficult to get out. 

Thesan’s hands stilled. 

“Is that what you think you are doing?” He asked her evenly. 

“I do my best, but…this isn’t the world into which I was born. Where I grew up,” she said softly, biting her lip. “Don’t get me wrong I love the Dawn Court but it’s not…”

It wasn’t home.

Not really. 

Home was the Human Lands and she had been ripped away from that. 

“You never talk about…being human,” Adirn said, as he crossed the pool. 

His wings stretched and then rippled as they were prone to be doing when they got wet. Chances were he would need to shake them out multiple until the feathers would be mostly dry again. 

(At least his annual moulting season was a few months off…the last one had been something. Adirn had been uncomfortable for days while Thesan and her had painstakingly plucked out every last loose feather from his wings.)

“I don’t…Nobody would…nobody would understand,“ Carys whispered. 

Not Thesan, born as the High Lord's heir…not Adirn, born into a tight-knit family, right in the midst of the Dawn Court…Adirn who had learned to fly as he learned to walk…Thesan who was so magical that it glowed on his skin… 

Neither of them were human in the slightest, from the feathers of Adirn’s wings to the pointed tips of Thesan’s ears. 

“We may not understand, but we would listen,” Thesan said quietly, just as Adirn reached out to touch her hands and she intertwined their fingers. 

Thesan’s hands smoothed over her hair and then down her shoulders, as she closed her eyes. 

They would. She didn’t doubt that for one moment. 

“I miss my ears,” she finally blurted out. 

Her ears. Her lovely, rounded ears. Her lovely, human ears. 

Her ears. 

“You miss your ears?” Thesan asked, quietly. She was surprised that it wasn’t Adirn, surprised that…

“I liked my human ears. They were small…they were…well formed. Nobody ever found something to criticise on them, like with the rest of my body,” Carys whispered. “I liked my ears,” she repeated with a sob the tears coming from nowhere. “And now they are…”

“They are beautiful,” Adirn said quietly, one hand coming up to trace the shell of her ear, the arch, the tip…

“They don’t feel like mine,” Carys whispered. “I look at my body and it doesn’t feel like my own sometimes.”

It was…it had grown lush with curves and had become so perfect…too perfect. 

She could no longer count her ribs as she had been able to after the worst of winters…could no longer see the hollows of her cheeks…

“It is yours, all of it is yours,” Adirn said, his hands sliding down carefully…over her chin and her neck and her shoulder. “Yours to do with as you please.”

She knew that. She did know that…but sometimes…a lot of the time…

It didn’t feel like hers.

“I am sorry,” Adirn apologised softly and she shook her head.

“You couldn’t have known that,” Carys assured him softly. A soft sigh left her mouth. 

It was just…

She wiped away a stubborn tear that escaped her and then Adirn pressed a kiss against her cheek and she breathed in the scent of lavender and warmth that clung to him. She tipped forward, leaning her head against his golden brown skin. 

“Want me to make it up to you?” He offered, his voice gravelly and she snorted because she knew exactly what he offered. Though to be honest…the idea of forgetting anything but her husbands…of letting them wring every drop of pleasure from her body…that wasn’t abhorrent. The exact opposite to be honest. 

“If you do all your apologising with your cock, we’ll have a problem, Adirn,” Thesan said drily and she couldn’t help but snort with laughter. 

“Only for you two,” Adirn hit back quickly. “What do you think, love? Whatever you want.”

She knew he was serious about it. There was seemingly nothing that he wasn’t willing to try at least once, nothing that he wasn’t happy to do if it meant that he got to touch her. 

She thought about it for a moment…anything she wanted. 

But the one thing she wanted most of all was to feel like she belonged with them, to them. That they took so much from her that she couldn’t even think about her lost humanity anymore. 

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed her, and she swallowed. 

“I am spoiled for choice,” Carys responded and Thesan chuckled. 

“Want me to narrow it down?” he whispered, warm hands slipping over her hips and she considered it for a moment. 

“No,” she said with a sigh, closing her eyes. “I want your mouth,” she whispered softly, not daring to look at him. “Will you…” she could feel the blush work its way over her cheeks even now. 

“Are you offering me a feast for my taking, love?” Adirn asked her lowly, not teasing her at all. 

She shivered, the outright question enough to send the arousal that had been lowly thrumming through her into overdrive. 

“Yes,” she managed to nod. “I…And I want Thesan inside me while you do it.”

She wasn’t even sure where that had suddenly come from. But as she blurted it out, Thesan lowly groaned behind her, his hands on her hips tightening.

 “I am quite sure that would be a treat for us as well,” Thesan whispered into her ear…but it was the trembling.

One thick finger parted her folds suddenly and she whimpered at the sudden contact, at that knowing touch…“Already wet and ready for us, love?” Adirn asked her, drawing one finger up and finding her clit nearly thoughtlessly…she could swear she could nearly feel another gush of wetness leaving her…

“Always,” she managed to get out, her knees trembling and Thesan caught her easily, chuckling. 

Carys let him pull her into his arms…keeping her eyes closed and just…basking for a moment in their undivided attention on her…in their gentle touches and sweet kisses being pressed to every inch of her damp skin…

She felt Thesan’s magic drift over her skin and she couldn’t help the shiver that it brought out…“I’ll never get used to your magic,” she whispered…he just chuckled. 

“It can be quite useful,” he whispered… and as she weakly blinked open her eyes, she could see how just one push of his magic had reconfigured that massive pool so that there was a comfortable ledge for Thesan to sit on…wide enough that he could lean back against an incline…water still just so lapping at him. 

He gave her a smile as he handed her over to Adirn, making himself comfortable, his thick, long cock jutting out from his frame…He was ready for her, not a question about it. 

Adirn helped her sit on his lap, her back to his front and it only took a second before she could feel the thick, blunt head of Thesan’s cock at her entrance, her body shuddering and yielding near immediately. 

“Just relax,” Adirn coaxed her, holding her in place, just the tip teasing her entrance, even as she already wriggled…. “You know how this goes.”

She took a deep breath, her body going pliant and Adirn let her slide down, her body having no choice but to make room for Thesan’s length. 

She fluttered around his cock, against the heat of him so deep inside her…

Carys couldn’t help herself as she ground down as much as she could, feet grabbling for purchase against slick stone as Thesan’s arms slipped around her frame and immobilised her… completely. 

“Shush,” Adirn said with some amusement. “Be patient.” 

she blinked open her eyes, just as Thesan forced his legs between hers… stretching her not only from within but stretching her legs as wide as they went…

Like a butterfly pinned for viewing pleasure. 

And gods, clearly Adirn enjoyed that view, as dark eyes slid heatedly over her body, over her heaving breasts to her lewdly stretched cunt…her clit peeking out, swollen and wet…impaled deeply onto a cock and still wanting more. More. More. 

“I want to come.”

“Greedy, love,” Adirn clucked his tongue but made himself comfortable…kneeling in the shallow water and giving her a smirk as he was near enough to her wet, stretched pussy that she could hear his hot breath against her overheated flesh. “You already have a cock inside you and it’s still not enough?”

She knew that she was blushing furiously. 

“Get to your apologies.” Carys hadn’t yet mastered that haughty tone of voice. It turned breathy at the end. 

Adirn chuckled again, and then without a forewarning…he buried his face against her pussy, her whole body shaking, a whimper leaving her throat. 

“He does much better if you give him orders,” Thesan said nearly thoughtfully, biting back a groan as her body unwillingly convulsed around his length buried inside her…trembling. “Maybe you should give all of them.“

Adirn lifted up, opening his mouth in protest, but Thesan cut him off. 

“Get back to your apologies, Ardin. Our wife deserves them,” he pointed out reasonably and then cursed as Carys felt Adirn probe where they were joined, throwing her head back into a whine. 

By the cauldron, he was going to fucking kill her with pleasure. 

Thesan cursed and she managed a breathless laugh and Adirn redoubled his efforts. 

By now…By now he knew exactly what to do. It took him an embarrassingly short amount of time to throw her headfirst into her first trembling orgasm, her body clamping down around Thesan’s cock, him groaning, his arms tightening around her body as he buried his face into her neck. 

But Adirn wasn’t done. 

Not at all. 

He was set on absolutely taking her apart. 

And quite frankly…she loved every minute of it. Loved every minute of her heart thumpin in her chest, the pleasure lapping at every nerve ending…loved the feeling of his mouth pressed against her, her tongue licking inside her…loved the bitten-down groans from Thesan behind her, the way his cock twitched deep within her, the walls of her cunt clenchning and unclening without her doing anything, long since having forgotten the use of any of her muscles…

And she couldn’t think about anything but the pleasure her husbands wrought from her. 

 “I love being your wife,” she gasped out, somehow between moans and whimpers, her back arching against Thesan, who nearly seemed to shake against her, the hot length of his inside her stretching her, filling her…Gods, she loved it. 

.“You do excel at it,” Thesan told her, his voice wrecked…A hoarse shout broke out of her throat as Adirn did cauldron knew what to her body, her toes curling with mind-numbing pleasure…White hot and blinding. 

She actually blacked out. Adirn honest to gods managed to make her faint. 

When Carys weakly blinked open her eyes moments later, Thesan was softening inside her, the warmth of his release painting her insides…Adirn was cupping her face, Thesan peppering kisses to her cheeks. 

“Am I forgiven?” Adirn asked her, his voice light on purpose. 

“What did you do again?” she managed to bring out, her voice hoarse. 

Thesan laughed gently behind her, shifting to pull out of her and she moaned, feeling the soreness between her legs, as he moved her off him gently. 

She would never get used to the sheer size of them. 

Just a moment late, a warm hand gently cupped her and Carys whimpered at the trickle of magic, a warm kiss…taking apart any discomfort. 

“Can’t have you be sore tomorrow, can we?” he asked her, a bashful smile on his face and she sighed…in complete and utter happiness. 

“You are so good to me,” she said softly, reaching out to cup the bag of Adirn’s head, pulling him into a kiss. 

He tasted like her and like Thesan and she loved everything about it. 

[genericpuff]

Just saw your response to someone asking about plot points you hate. Can I ask why you don't like Athena/Hestia? From what I remember (take this with a grain of salt because while I've read the whole comic it's more in a junk food, read and forget til next time kind of thing)

From what I remember it's not a huge plot point? Like its just kinda.. there? It doesn't really impact much of the story at large.

Also I agree with the hades/thanatos thing, that's kinda odd and it doesn't make hades any better or more sympathetic of a protagonist. If I remember right, doesn't he abandon thanatos or push him away?

I have issues with the Hestia x Athena plotline the same way I have issues with the Hera x Echo plotline. It all feels shoehorned in for the sake of seeming 'inclusive' towards gay relationships, but gets next to no actual development or screentime aside from the odd lip service meant to benefit Rachel.

Especially when Hestia and Athena were already embraced as LGBTQ+ icons to begin with and didn't need to be shipped together to make it possible. Rachel has a really hard time comprehending aroace identities and this is present even back in her Tumblr days-

If Hestia and Athena are still supposed to be at least ace in LO then we haven't seen any indication of that. So it just makes them look hypocritical as fuck for running the "virgins only club" that is TGOEM (and even going so far as to punish Persephone for being around Hades by confiscating his gift to her) and that unfortunately makes them look like really terrible people which isn't a great look for the only lesbian couple in the story (at least until Eros and Hera were established but whether or not they're an actual couple now or if that was just a one time kiss scene remains to be seen). Like even the reveal that they're together is Artemis figuring it out and then being pissed that she's the "only one following the rules", not them coming out about it on their own terms.

Also no, the Hestia x Athena plotline wasn't as big as the other plotlines, but it was one of the ones that felt so out of left field and forced when it was first established. Plus I'd just love for them to be aroace rep again, there are characters who are legitimate gay icons that got erased so that Rachel could retroactively shove it into other characters without any reasoning or relevance to the plot.

I honestly wouldn't have been so salty about the Hestia x Athena plotline if it were just written better (and if it didn't reek of aroace erasure) and that goes for a lot of the queer relationships in LO, because so many of them are only given the tiniest ounces of screentime, enough for Rachel to take credit for being "inclusive" but not enough for her to actually have a diverse cast. Morpheus is the most consistently present character we've gotten for LGBTQ+ rep and now even she's been fridged :/

Anyways, as for Hades and Thanatos, yeah, the retcon that Hades was a 'father figure' to Thanatos the whole time seems like it was purely written in to make Thanatos look like a hypocrite for having very reasonable concerns regarding the special treatment being given to Persephone at work. But then Rachel had to actually resolve that plotline so in S3 she had Hades approach Thanatos in search of his brother just for them to have a weak 'heart to heart' where Thanatos took the blame for being a 'handful' and Hades trauma dumped and never really took accountability for everything. The fact that we're supposed to believe they have a father-son dynamic really makes the first season gross to read because the whole time Hades is legitimately treating Thanatos like scum. It absolutely does NOT make Hades more likeable, even with the attempt to 'redeem' him which really just made him look like an even bigger asshole u.u

[kyoghurts]

hi!! If its okay to you, can I request some enemies or rivals to lovers with rayne?

HOO OKAY BOUTTA TURN THIS INTO A YAPPING SESSION

first off, let's not confuse or think that enemies are also rivals. hmkay? you have 2 separate requests:

enemy is a person who is actively opposed or hostile to someone or something. whilst rival is a person or thing competing with another for the same objective or for superiority in the same field of activity.

🦇♱ ˚｡⋆. so, enemies to lovers with rayne ames WILL include a) downright violence b) SLOW !! BURN!! slowburn :D and c) constant desire to cut each other's throats. you're always on the run, and rayne is in tow. OR you could also be the one to ensue chaos in the city like a true evil criminal that you are, and rayne would be the one, like the ONLY one you would ever have to face. you're not interested in the other divine visionaries, compared to rayne which he seems so riled up when it comes to you. he abhors you, everything that you hold and what you stand for.

he's no BS, you've tasted near-death from the blood you lost too many times, his swords know no bounds. and—it's exhilarating, you don't think you've experienced anything like this until now. you're not aiming for victory or for the win, no, you're here for the fun and thrill of it. rayne is special to you in your own... definitely fucked up way.

you always wanted someone to finally feel that burning hatred towards you and can endure such brawls that which you provide, even as close as to end your life. you treat this as a game, all the more fuels to his hatred. kinda like a cycle, it works both ways.

SO. how did he get to the point where he can—as disgustingly and shamefully admit it—that he can trust you with his life? SIMPLE, you don't want him dead. you want to keep fighting and murdering each other until your last breath. AND AND AND when there's another entity who wishes to kill him? not a chance, they're gonna have to face you first.

and he'll shove you off if you ever have to carry him bridal style/piggyback if he's injured or seemingly cannot walk. you could tease him. he'll flip you off. you'll laugh and its awful in his ears but at least you got him safe—he won't say thank you, he'd rather suffer than do so—but he can tolerate you babbling on your next plans of causing wreckage to everyone like you're talking about some normal cooking recipe and its tuesday and not something insane which is...fine, he supposes (yuck), you look and act normal when you're like this. (excluding whatever the hell you're going on about)

the "will they wont they" type of troupe. it affects other parties indirectly, like the other divine visionaries would notice your relationship with rayne. even as far as to grow familiar with you, SHOCKING i know. they'd even offer a cup of tea with you if you're free and they won't meddle with your brawls and mayhem that are only ever targeted to the ever so serious bunny obsessed freak.

(you knew his fixation for bunnies when he offered a handkerchief with bunny designs to stop your bleeding once. that was a mistake. you kept the item at all times and he swears he's not gonna hear the end of it.)

ryoh would bet internally that you'd be the first to crack. because from the looks of it, rayne, as perceptive as he is, is too dumb to spot that look of adoration and admiration your eyes have. ITS SUBTLE, the others could pass it off as just your thirst for madness, which isn't far, by the way.

the thing about this is that there will be extreme angst...pain or anguish at the perplexity of each other's emotions. how did it end up like this? its going to take a LOT on both parties to admit their feelings. it WILL turn messy.

like maybe— one day, innocent zero may take notice of you and offer you to be a part of his future that he desires and maybe you will accept it. and rayne, oh god. how he's torn of this.

maybe at the grand finale of things, you'll face him. he'll face you. it's anything unlike what you guys originally have. and you know rayne, he'll show no mercy.

(or will he?)

at your dying moments, he asks finn to heal you.

you'd be filled with so much frustration and confusion.

"WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?!" your hands, callous and cold harshly pulling his collar. your eyes which speaks of many, many emotions. too much all at once.

and rayne, how alluring those eyes are, if you knew that the shape of his glare can turn soft, like the edges of his blade no longer cutting deep in your skin. but his jaw tightens, too little of assurance to know what's happening.

he grips your arm, tight and then not. he says with so much restraint. "i need you to live."

"i-" you didn't get any word out as he left the scene. did he pity you or something? why hadn't he gone all out? now, of all times? your heart felt a heavy literally and figuratively. no, it doesn't carry the burden of the world, you're far from lifting the weights of it, unlike rayne, so different from you, facing you from the other side of a world you've never learn to understand. and maybe that's why you can't seem to accept this, for far too long you always believed staining your hands would have yourself pin a reason to your soul for death to claim you. and you want rayne to fulfill that belief of yours, you want—him, fuck, what is wrong with you?!

THAT CONSTANT TUG OF PUSH AND PULL

okay i might've gone overboard with how i characterize reader here but for this troupe to work i really can't see any other version other than having the sane (rayne) x insane (reader) dynamic. you guys balance each other so well like yin and yang.

after some time, with the world being restored by mash and things are now peaceful. you took a break from everything and decided to lurk in the shadows, rayne kind of gets it as he lets you be.

until weeks turn months and months turn to two and then three.

he's going to lose his mind with not you around

he's so used to your presence by now that your 'temporary' disappearance is making him think you're gone forever

during this time i think rayne will start to also question his feelings for you

like yeah sure you can be insufferable when you want to be but its not like he hates you—

well... he hated you. past tense.

after a long day, he's surprised to see you through a treetop among the branches sleeping away as if your face isn't plastered on many wanted posters all over town.

rayne carefully wakes you up by poking your arm with one of his swords, looking up at you and feeling relieved internally that you didn't die or something. "oi. get down from there."

"you know its rude interrupting someone's beauty sleep."

"you know its dangerous openly showing yourself like this."

despite your huff of disapproval, there's a giddy smile wriggling its way on your face as you drop down to where he stood. taking his hand and bowing slightly, teasing. "missed me?"

"under no circumstances, not even if the stars align and pigs fly." he does no effort to remove his hand from your grasp.

he notes a few things from you. there's no denying that you've changed, well, not in your behavior but rather, the way you treat him. the way you talk to him. the way you smile, the effect that comes with it, or maybe its him?

you let out a soft laugh, eyes crinkling. you look so...radiant, the air in which surrounds you feels light. feels more peaceful and more you. "i missed you too, rayne."

"told ya y/n's the first to realize it." ryoh dramatically waves himself with his folding fan, hiding half of his face in the manner of a woman gossiping about something scandalous. "ah, it appears the debt of monetary remuneration from our whimsical wager has come due."

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about. we never made a bet." orter grumbles under his breath. "and besides why are we here. i've got places to be."

lols imagine after a few years you both decided to own a house and you'd be bantering all day but at the end of it you settle with gazing out towards the skyline of the town together. you don't really like the quiet, but you're starting to lean against unspoken feelings that hold you and rayne as if they cradle you in a hammock of tranquility, suspended in the stillness of serene silence. when you drown, rayne takes you back to the shore. he saved you in a sense, and you faintly bump your shoulder against his, conveying your gratitude in simple acts.

you like your life a little better with rayne. nothing in this world is going to change that.

im separating the rivals to lovers bc i didnt expect to make a wall of text here omg. also here u go @seneon its hererere sorry for the inconsistency of this hc my very sleepy brain will leave the other plot holes to the audience.

(on a separate note: i am deeply disappointed with how i went with this hc. i want to edit it but at the same time my brain is currently failing me. this has been finished like two months ago and i was supposed to post it at that time but ughghxbjdhe i hate it bro i cant think anymore. i’ll redeem myself in the rivals to lovers one, promise!!)

[sovereignjojoz]

Distraction

Pairing: smoke/Tomas x reader, I don’t even know if I can tag this Bi-Han x reader because it’s not, but just know Bi-Han has complex ambiguous feelings towards the reader that even I don’t know?????

Summary: The grandmaster disapproves of smokes lover for some reason unbeknownst to them, so he tells them to end it. Two endings.

Warnings: angst but there’s also a separate comforting ending, one mention that reader wears a dress, self-loathing reader in the angst part.

Notes - this was going to be more angsty originally I just couldn’t picture a meaner scenario, because smoke is too nice so I just lessened the angst to something bittersweet (cry) (I want to write something gut wrenching) anyways might write something for syzoth/Bi-han next idk. Requests are always open!!

Bi-Han, the ever stoic Sub-Zero, found himself in an unexpected dilemma, and it was all Tomas’ fault.

Or more specifically your fault.

Recently, Tomas had gotten a lover. Although some may think otherwise the grandmaster was not adverse to such things so long as they didn’t become a distraction.

You were a distraction.

You couldn't be more different from the warriors of their clan. You were like a breath of warmth in the icy corridors of the Lin Kuei compound, bubbly, kind-hearted, and devoid of combat prowess, you stood out like a flower in a field of snow.

While smoke was smitten with your gentle nature and somewhat naivety, Bi-Han couldn't shake off his disapproval.

Your unfiltered presence felt like a disruption to the disciplined order of their lives, a stark contrast to the solemn silence that usually enveloped the Lin Kuei.

Even now he could hear Tomas trying to hush up the sound of muffled laughter and giggles from the other side of the compound, was a place of komat and violence really a place for laughter to make home?

The grandmaster often tried to keep his distance as a result hoping that the incompatibility of you in their lifestyle would become increasingly clear, yet it had been months and it seemed as though you had no intention to leave Tomas’ side.

He didn’t understand what Tomas saw in you, of course your exterior beauty was clear to all (although Tomas wasn’t one to judge on appearance alone) but you were a non fighter. Bi-Han likened your presence to a fragile glass sculpture delicately balanced on the edge of a precipice, it was as though you needed a box to protect you from the harshness of the compound as it seemed as though a mere wispre could shatter your delicacy - and they were never one for whispering.

Perhaps Tomas could be considered the box you sought out, a sanctuary where you could retreat from the harshness of the world and cocoon yourself in layers of protection, so not to mar your fragile heart.

Yet was Tomas considered capable? Many occasions he’d returned home bloodied and bruised, wracking your heart with grief where you should have been finding solace. Sniffles and sobs lined the walls of the corridors while smoke tried his best to be comforting. He knew how this song and dance played out, a few forlorn touches whilst being patched up then the distress would cease (and in its place came the sound of affection).

Such a cycle will be futile for the one who is considered soft hearted, would it not? With enough pressure even resilience can shatter.

He supposed that was the good thing with his younger brother, he never put pressure on you which is why you were always able to be somewhat resilient and converse freely with him.

He was a firsthand witness to this many times and coincidentally one of those many times he overheard you two freely conversing was currently taking place.

“Tomas please don’t,” you begged loudly, and pouted willing him to look you in the eye.

When it came to many things Tomas was strong willed, but you were his one exception, you’d leave him inexplicably weak “pretty, you know I have to, water is quite literally gushing out of the chamber you stay in.” He countered as he pulled you along behind him.

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand, “But you know that is no issue to me, in fact it will just be like sleeping on a water bed.”

Tomas chuckled heartily, “you’re funny you know baby. Okay then it’s not an issue with you but it is an issue with me, can’t have you getting sick.”

You tried to hold him in place by hugging him, “my immune systems is top notch you know!” But he just threw you over his shoulder with ease and continued walking. “Besides can’t I just sleep with you?”

He felt your smaller fists pound on his back urging him to let you down, it was akin to a marshmallow pounding on wood. “You know I would love that but the grandmaster forbid us from sharing a room because of last time.”

You rested your face on his head sighing, “it was your fault, you were the one who squealed.”

He pinched your hip lightly, although it was enough to make you involuntarily yelp. “Let’s not forget who bit me.”

“Hey you knowingly signed up for that when we started dating.”

He flashed you a smile as he threw you down on the couch and brought out an imaginary key to lock you up with.

You gasped betrayed, “I know I know, ‘m sorry! I didn’t want to have to resort to this but your presence is too captivating, just give me three minutes my angel then I’m all yours.”

You relented beckoning him to go on so you could brood whilst you waited for him, the grand master watched this whole debacle go down and decided to make his presence known.

His presence startled you leading you to jump up upon his entrance, “good evening grandmaster.” You palmed at your dress in a state of nervousness.

The tall male eyed you up and down, “where is Tomas.”

“Smokey-” a disapproving frown crept onto his face, you cleared your throat, uncomfortable, “Tomas just left.”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “Yes that is evident, to where.”

You bit your bottom lip “he, um, went to the bedroom to fix a broken tap.”

His eyes flickered to you, a harsh glare almost making you want to flinch, “everything in the lin kuei compound is made to perfection, how did it break.”

You took a couple steps back as his proximity slightly intimidated you, “we shared a bath together a-and I must have splashed around to much, I’m really sorry grandmaster please don’t blame smok-”

“Enough.” His glare was enough to silence your nervous rambling. “Sit. I’m going to speak to Tomas, do not disturb us.”

It seemed as though you wanted to say something but you held yourself back deciding to sit down like he instructed you (good choice).

When Tomas heard footsteps approaching he initially thought nothing of it, thinking you had tired of being by your lonesome and wanted his attention again.

Then he heard the heaviness to the footsteps, those weren’t your delicate footsteps.

He used his vestment to wipe the sweat off his brow before answering the door.

“Grandmaster.” Tomas greeted.

Bi-Jan forced his own entry into the room, locking the door behind them, tension hanging thick in the air.

Smoke tried to read his expression his but it was unreadable, although it seemed like a form of inevitable confrontation was about to occur based on the face he was currently making.

“Is there anything-?”

“You are becoming reckless Tomas.”

Smoke furrowed his brows in confusion, he had no idea what the grandmaster was referring to. “What?”

“You broke a tap.”

Tomas rubbed his nape sheepishly, “technically you could say that, but I’ve already fixed it.”

Bi-han stepped closer to smoke, “It is beyond unacceptable.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Do we tolerate mistakes?”

Smoke had a lingering suspicion this issue ran deeper than the tap, of course Bi-Han would be displeased about his broken tap however he seemed to snappy for the issue to just be about the tap.

“We don’t but [name] didn’t mean to-?”

“Answer.”

“No?”

“Yet irregardless of that you did not show up to morning training.” A look of recognition flashed across smokes face, “as your grandmaster that will not be tolerated. You must end your relationship with [name].”

A look of disbelief overcame Tomas’ face. “What? Where is this coming from, why would I do that?” He asked, hurt seeped in his voice.

Bi-Han pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled, “[name] is a distraction and a liability, if [name] were here now your focus would slip and you would struggle to focus on anything else evidently shown by the way you missed morning training.”

“That was my own decision.” Tomas answered defending you from Bi-Hans criticism, “[name] only asked if I would join, I was the one who said yes full well knowing about the training. If anyone is to blame it’s me.”

“It doesn’t matter Tomas. The fact you even said yes proves how far gone you are. [name] is not a warrior nor a medic but a weakness, an attachment to you that makes you vulnerable and puts us all at risk.”

Tomas’ jaw clenched in frustration, “Grandmaster please excuse me but you have no right to judge. You do not understand what you are talking about, [name] is not my weakness.”

“You are being selfish in your pursuits Tomas. Perhaps if she were a warrior there would be room negotiate but someone so tenuous is pitiful.”

“Then forgive me for being selfish grandmaster but I will not relent.” Tomas turned sharply on his heel to exit the room.

Angsty ending

“You will. If you dare to disobey me then take your stuff with you because you will no longer reside here.”

Tomas stopped in his tracks, his hand shakily hovering over the door knob.

He knew he had no more room to argue but he wanted to, more so than ever since it was a battle between his head and his heart.

Tomas threw his head back, exhaling angrily through his nostrils, then he pulled opened the door brashly and stormed out.

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, cursing under his breath.

“Smokey?” He saw your head appear into his view from around the corner, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” You wrapped your arms tightly around his middle hoping to comfort him, “you seem tense?”

Smoke said nothing and just pulled you close with a desperate longing that was almost too tight. There's a sense of safety in the closeness as your breaths synchronise with his. You frowned pitifully and pulled his head down to your shoulder, gently caressing his hair.

“It’s okay.” You kissed his cheek.

“It’s not.”

“You can tell me what’s the matter?”

He lifted his head up trying to maintain his composed mask, “Bi-Han wants us to break up.”

Your shock lead your grip to loosen on him however he reacted quickly putting it back where it once was.

“Oh.”

He ran a hand through his ashen hair, “don’t worry, we’re not breaking up I’ll just deal with the consequences.” He spoke attempting to give you a reassuring smile but it came out more wry.

It was quite hard to process your current emotions but you were trying your best, “what are the consequences?”

“I’m out.”

Shock painted your face, “you can’t do that this is your whole life, you love it here.”

He brought your hand to his face, “I also love you.”

“I know.” You sniffled and tried your best to wipe the unruly tears that slipped out of the corner of your eyes.

You sighed. “He hates me, right? I must have done something again and now he’s had enough of me, it’s all my fault, I-I’m so stupid-!” You hit your head twice before smoke caught your hands and held them together tightly.

“stop it.”

Despite your hands being bound, you got past him and manage to wrap your hands around his blade, “what if I just cut my hair or if I talk less, I’ll change whatever he wants, I’ll study everything and become more proper…I’ll do anything to make him like me more for you-” smoke tuned out the rest of what was being discussed as he felt you trying to pull the blade towards your hair, he knew irrationality was getting to you. You tried your best to overpower him yet you knew it wouldn’t be possible, he was a warrior you were nothing.

The blade flicked out of your hand and made a small gash on your cheek, but the wound stung more from your saline tears than the actual sharpness of the blade.

His thumb wiped the blood and tears off of your soft skin, “it’s okay, you’ll be alright and I don’t care what he think I like you how you are, I never want you to change.”

“Well that would be good if the grandmaster didn’t hate current me that you love. Why does he hate me, he probably has a good reason anyway…All I want is to be with you…nothing else. but I’m not going to hold you back regardless.”

Smoke purses his lips. He had no answer for you, he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what the grandmasters peculiarity with you was or where this sudden snap came from, he didn’t want to doubt his grandmaster but he felt like there was more to this so called ‘dislike’ if he could even call it that.

His head was a mess.

“There is no good reason.” He didn’t answer your question, instead he just pulled you close into his embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault Tomas.”

“Yeah but still, it’s not fair. You shouldn’t doubt yourself like this thinking it’s your fault and our relationship shouldn’t be ending. Period. I should be able to do something but…If only things could have been different.” Or the grandmaster could have understood instead of being an arrogant ‘know-it-all’, “then…” the words died out on his tongue.

Your lips sadly turned upwards as you stroked his cheek, “but they’re not so there’s no time for lamenting, so I guess this is goodbye Smokey.”

As you took your hand away from his cheek he immediately felt the loss of warmth, replaced with a coolness he didn’t think he’d ever be forced to get used to.

But at least his heart was ignited one last time seeing you smile, even if it was in sadness and not long lasting, it would be a while before he let that smoke fizzle out.

“Goodbye sweetheart.”

Comforting ending

Before you were even aware of what was happening to you, a tug of your hand was pulling you forward leaving you stumbling to catch up with your feet.

“Tomas? Where are we going?”

He continued walking at a brisk pace, not stopping till you were outside the compound, “just for a walk, need to let some steam off.”

“You need to cool off some smoke?” You joked laughing at your pun.

That managed to crack a small smile from him, “and Bi-Han wants this to end,” he muttered under his breath.

You tilted your head at him in a curious manner, “what?”

He stopped beneath a tree, decorated with soft glistening snow on top of the wooden branches. He tuned towards you and squished your cheeks together before giving you a soft kiss. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay!”

You couldn’t figure out what it was but he was heavily concentrated on something in the distance right now, his face was clouded by a far a way look till he abruptly turned to face you. “Hey, do you want to get married?”

You gasped surprised, “really? You’d marry me!”

Smoke grinned enthusiastically, “would I? Of course I would!”

You jumped on him to excited to contain yourself making him stumble backwards before he steadied himself and you, “okay! It would probably only take me like two days to find a dress and we could just go down and sign the documents unless you wanted to have a big official thing but I’m not sure how that would-”

He pinched your lips while laughing to silence your rambling, “how about now?”

“But we have nothing I-!”

He cut you off once more, “we don’t need anything, just us, it will make it special! sure it will be informal but only us two will get it!”

“Here look,” he grabbed your smaller hands in his larger coarse hands, “[name], may I be forever yours.”

“Yes, you may Tomas.”

He grinned and pulled his face towards you, giving you a tender and lasting smooch. “Now we’re married!”

“You hit him lightly on his shoulder, “you were meant to wait for me to repeat it!”

He pulled you down to the floor, making you sit on his lap, “M sorry, ‘m sorry! I couldn’t wait.”

You sighed content, laying your head on top of his muscular shoulder, “it’s okay, you have forever to make it up to me.”

His lips curled upwards as he rested his head on top of yours.

Yeah, forever sounds nice.

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 8)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult themes, illusions to sex, angst, alcohol consumption, etc

*We’re getting down to it, only two (possibly three) more chapters to go ❤️

It feels like the air has been punched clean out of your lungs, but just as quickly, logic takes over and shakes you straight.

Obviously, you’ve misunderstood…and you tell him as much.

“I guess I’m not following you, Josh.” You attempt a casual laugh and nudge his shoulder with your own, scrambling for normalcy. “But, I suppose it really isn’t any of my business, anyway.”

His stare remains locked on Lily, with that proud, faraway look that so often softens his expression when he watches her. “You’re following me just fine, sweetheart. You’re just a little off kilter because I sort of threw it at you. I’m sorry for that.”

Funny, you’ve never actually had an ‘I must be dreaming’ moment…but you’re certainly having one now. That has to be it, you’ve conjured this jumbled up mess inside your head.

You’re at home, still sleeping off the blunt shared with Jake. Right? No, you can feel the warm humidity of the day building in the air, there is the faint knock of a woodpecker lost somewhere in the trees, there is the sound of him breathing, waiting, existing, beside you.

This is no dream - but it’s every bit as confusing as one.

Afraid she might overhear, you pitch your voice less than a whisper, so quiet you almost don’t hear your own question, but Josh does.

“Yes, she’s Jake’s,” a gently possessive edge nips at his tone. “Biologically. It doesn’t matter, that little girl is mine, and I’m her’s. But yeah, that’s what I meant when I said I could never repay him. Look at her…”

A smile breaks across his face, warm, gorgeous, and absolutely beaming with adoration as he studies her pointing something out in the sand. Her buddy leans in closer to inspect her discovery, as they carry on what seems to be a very serious discussion.

“He gave me my favorite girl. My everything. I would’ve died for him before, now I’d do it with a smile just because he asked. How could I ever level the playing field?”

There’s that playing field making its appearance again, albeit for a very different reason this time around.

“I don’t understand.” And you don’t. You’ve never understood anything less in your life. You can’t get a read on how, or why, or if it really even matters. It’s like someone has taken all the facts you’ve ever known to be true and mixed them all up. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits. The puzzle is jumbled and missing pieces.

“It’s a lot, I know.” He shrugs, already intimately acquainted with the situation that has ripped the rug out from beneath your unsteady feet. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you, but if I’m being honest…which I guess is exactly what we’re doing here…I didn’t want him to beat me to it. I wanted to be the one to tell you. I really don’t even know why, and it sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“He never said a word.” The moment you speak the words, you remember Jake’s, she looks like her dad.

Josh leans back against the weathered wood bench and crosses his ankle over his knee. You’d like to ask him how he’s so casually fucking with your head, but you know this really isn’t about you at all.

“Of course he never said a word. Our stoic mystery man, whom you can’t seem to quit. Just remember, my love, still waters run deep. There are a great many things that Jacob has never said a word about. He would have, though. Eventually. Something about you seems to just drag things to the surface for us. Sorceress.”

He’s only teasing. Likely trying to lighten the heaviness of the conversation, but you blush all the same. As only Josh can, he both grins at the pink in your cheeks, and pretends not to see it, to spare your pride.

The way they speak - so alike in sound, inflection, turns of phrase, poetically laced and lovely - only serves to confuse you further. At times, it's like being with the same man who just happens to have split personalities.

“A great many things Jacob has never said a word about,” You muse,” Bigger than this?” You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

A laugh, easy and genuine, trips out of him, louder by far than anything that has been murmured thus far, “Fuck, I hope not!”

Lil’s head snaps up, attention hooked; though her friend is more interested in watching her reaction than what she is reacting to. “Daddy said a bad word!” The accusation in her tone makes him sigh, defeatedly.

“No, I didn’t!” Josh holds his hands up in innocence, clearly enamored by her tiny cross examination. “Daddy said truck. We were playing the rhyming game.”

“Like we play in the car on the way to Gramma’s?” She shouts over, with disappointment now coloring her end of the exchange…she delights in catching grown ups misbehaving.

“That’s the one.” He smiles with an exhale of relief, like a little boy who has just successfully evaded punishment. “Never, ever, tell anyone how coolly I just lied to that angelic face.” He adds through his teeth, smiling with a wave in her direction.

“That angelic face can be brutal.” You giggle at his nonsense. “Last week she caught me eating one of those vegetarian sushi rolls you hog for yourself, and milked me for extra goodies at snack time for days in exchange for silence.”

“Jokes on you,” he rolls his big brown eyes as if he can’t believe your behavior. “I count them, and I knew it all along.”

“Yeah, well, you just admitted to counting your sushi rolls, so who should be ashamed of themselves, here? ‘Cause it isn’t me.” You’re joking, but only a little.

After an absurdly easy stretch of silence, he turns serious and quiet again, “Look, I know that I dumped this on you, and I know you’ve probably got a million questions…you deserve answers to every single one of them. Come to mom’s with me, yeah? She’s making a big lunch. Sammy’s bringing the dog. It’ll be fun. We’ll eat, she’ll eventually insist on keeping Lil for the night and we’ll go home. I’ll make you dinner and we can talk.”

“Talk? Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days?” You grin, how is everything always so easy with him? This shouldn’t be so casual. It shouldn’t feel this normal to joke about sleeping with him while grappling with something so monumental.

Incidentally, why are you joking about sleeping with him? Because you want to put it out there, that you’re still thinking about it, that you still want it…that’s why.

How do they do this? Both of them. It hardly seems fair. Or normal, for that matter. And he has the nerve to talk of sorcery?

The wind is fluttering through the leaves, rustling them like a soothing psalm. It causes your thoughts to wander…which seems odd; how could you be thinking about anything but this nuclear bomb he has just detonated inside your head. But somehow, wander they do, your thoughts - and you find yourself eyeing the trees, trying to hone in on the one lucky enough to have earned Jake’s favor.

Like always, Josh seems to know what you’re thinking. “It’s across the park. Over closer to that little pond where Lil likes to feed the ducks.”

“What?” You adopt a puzzled expression, though you cannot for the life of you fathom why. Josh knows. Just like his brother, Josh always knows.

It is a frustrating, exhausting fact, but a fact all the same.

“Jake’s tree.” He clarifies, proving what you already understood to be true…that he can peer inside your head and heart as easily as he could were you made of windows. “It’s over by the pond. Would you like to see it?”

“No.” You brush your hands over your arms as if you’ve caught a chill, though the air borders on muggy.

“Okay,” He nods, completely at ease with this unusual situation you’ve found yourselves in. “Would you like to see him?”

Awkwardly, you watch those leaves as they wave and dance together, anything to save from meeting his eyes.

“Is okay to say yes, love…” he taps your knee, just an innocent ‘hello’, and so different from the last time he touched you. “I’d like to see him too. He’ll undoubtedly be at our mother’s lounging around like he owns the place. Come with us.”

“Do they know?” You venture tentatively, “Your parents?”

Your eyes are on him now as he shakes his head. Sometimes you forget how truly beautiful he really is and then you wonder how you ever could.

“Contrary to popular belief, Jake and I can keep a secret.”

“Not even your mother?” You find this hard to believe, as much as Jake taunts his twin for being a ‘mama’s boy’, he’s just as bad. They trust her with everything.

Josh nods at Lily, who is now flouncing her way over like a fairy who has misplaced her wand…all swishing ponytail and laughing eyes. “Not even her mother.”

The windows for questions has slammed shut, leaving all of yours to slam against the pane of glass like dazed birds.

~

“Rosie, get down!” Sam’s voice barks across the kitchen, startling you out of your thoughts. Rosie, unfazed and standing on her hind legs, continues to peruse the veggie plates and chip bowls Karen has set out on the counter, sniffing out delicious scents and temptations.

“Rosebud, I swear, if you don’t—“

“Samuel,” Karen scolds, snapping at him with the hand towel she’s been toting around. “Get off your ass and get her. Stop acting like an idiot in my kitchen.”

Sammy lopes over and grabs his faithful companion by the collar, lovingly tugging her away. “I don’t come here to be treated like I’m five, ma.” He complains, sweeping open the back door.

“Shut up, and go help your brothers.” She’s turned away from him and smiling, but judging by his returning smile, he has heard the adoration in her admonishing words.

At the table, bathed in the warmth of Karen’s sunny kitchen, you watch Jake and Josh confer near the enormous lilac bush Kelly has insisted be torn out.

“Too close to the septic system.” He’d informed the room when everyone protested ripping such a beauty from the earth, “The roots are gonna screw it all up and not a damn one of you are gonna want to come help clean up the aftermath.”

Of course, the boys have been tapped to help, as Kelly insists there’s no time like the present, and of course, Sammy has been shirking his duties ever since. True to form, rather than joining the twins, he opts for a chair to toss a tennis ball to Rosie from.

Your heart warms watching his honest and open face laugh gleefully as she chases down her bouncing prey. He is the sweetest gem, and you wish you knew him a little better.

But, as it so often does, your attention wanders back over to Josh, in his casual weekend wear, clean and crisp…and Jake, looking gorgeously rumpled and out of place in the domesticity of it all. You know he smells of ember and the Booker’s he is currently nursing out of a plastic tumbler to ensure Lil doesn’t ask questions.

You miss them both. They feel very far away as you watch on, smiling when they raise their arms to point something out to Kelly in perfect, unplanned, synchronicity.

Karen is suddenly beside you, staring out across the deck as well, chomping on a baby carrot. “It’s fun to watch them, isn’t it?”

She offers you a veggie and you take it, nodding in complete agreement around a bite.

“See how they mirror each other?” She marvels softly, wistful for her babies. “They’ve always done it. Even in the hospital, one would move, and there would go the other. Josh had terrible colic - briefly, thank god - and Jake would tense up even before Josh made a peep, like he could feel it coming. They’re each other's keepers.”

Be it motherly intuition, or perhaps just the nostalgia of having all of her boys home at once, she has chosen an ideal time to share. With the men all outside either tending to chores or shirking them, and Lil napping on the couch, you have her, and her memories, all to yourself.

“Tell me more about what they were like.”

If she senses something more behind the question, she doesn’t let on. “They were terrors. Little monsters, just awful. But, gentle angels at the same time. Always quick with a hug or a thoughtful comment. Even when they were just tiny things, they honed in on people and just sank their little teeth into heart after heart.”

“Some things never change then, I guess.” You shouldn’t have said it and long to take it back. They get their empathetic third eye from their mother, and you know she’ll clock the situation for what it is.

But again, she stays mum on the subject of why you seem just as wistful as she.

“They struggled so hard in school,” she finally confides, eyes on them as they begin wrapping ropes around the root of the bush that, evidently, must go. “It was painful. Mostly because they were just so intelligent, but it was all locked away when it came to brick and mortar schooling. They just froze right up behind those little desks.”

You knew this. Josh has explained their plight a hundred times over, wringing his hands with worry that Lily-bit might struggle to overcome the same mountains. Still, it’s so difficult to imagine them, easily two of the most intellectually enriched, well read and spoken human beings you have ever met, grappling with crippling learning disabilities.

“We worked with them endlessly, and hired tutors, and they tried so damn hard.” Her voice wavers a touch, as if she’s swallowing down tears. “When the pieces started falling in place for them, Josh took to reading faster than Jakey. He had these phonics books he liked, and they would hole up in their room for hours while Josh helped him sound the words out. I used to listen at the door. It was like magic…Josh would utilize all the inner workings of that shared mind they can access, and somehow, he’d make it make sense for his brother. He’d remind him to slow down and really see all those turned around letters so kindly it made you want to crumble. Josh was the only one Jake ever went to for help, you couldn’t have paid him to be that vulnerable with anyone else. And Josh just soaked it up, helping Jake connect those dots. He’d grow so ecstatic and proud with each tiny success.”

You both laugh as Josh shoves at Jake’s shoulder, pointing angrily at the lilac and their task, clearly unhappy with something his twin hasn’t executed to his liking.

“That’s when I knew he’d be a teacher.” Her hand, so warm and maternal, pats your shoulder. “Josh, that is. We knew Jake’s fate the minute he was old enough to crawl towards a guitar.”

“The music man,” you watch him nip at his cup, leisurely and mellow, even as his brother barks orders at him.

“The music man.” She concurs, crunching into another carrot. “Always. Have you ever seen him play a song by ear? He’ll listen to it once and just stare off into space like nobody’s home. But really, he’s plucking all those notes out and locking them away. Next thing you know, he’s got it. Just like that. It’s incredible. Kelly and I used to look at each other and think, where in the hell did he come from?”

“Josh, too,” you offer, though of course she knows. “He sings to Lil all the time. Makes up these dumb little songs to make her laugh, or to help her remember something. And he sings in the shower because he seems to think it’s a magical box where no one can hear him.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughs, sliding her plate closer to you, ever the ‘mom’ wanting to nourish anyone who walks through her hallowed halls. “The shower concerts. He used to steal all the hot water constantly. It was worth it, though, to listen. They had a little band for a while. Did you know that?”

In your mind’s eye, the few pictures you’ve seen, pop up to say hello. “Sort of, but Josh kinda blew it off when I asked. Said he just helped Jake out with a few gigs when they were kids.”

A belly laugh, so much like her sons’, trills out of her. “It was way more than that, that liar. Used to have to drag them to all these shitty bars and parties. Samuel played bass. A friend of theirs, the drums…or sometimes Josh. That was always interesting. They were a mess, all over the place, but they had something special. And that’s not just mom talking, everybody said so.”

“So, what happened?”

“They started gaining a little recognition. Started being invited to play at the nicer places around town, and that was the idea all along, we thought. But, suddenly, Jake wanted nothing to do with it.”

Jake calling it quits would have been the absolute last thing you would have deemed to be the nail in the coffin.

She senses your surprise and nods along with it. “He finally told me why one night. Came in after having one too many at one party out in the woods or another. I sat him down at this very table right here and I know he thought I was about to climb up his ass about tapping a keg with his friends or whatever the hell they did that night, but really, I wanted to drag the truth out of him. The truth that mattered.”

“And?”

She leans back in her chair, shaking her head as if she still can’t believe it. On your end, you watch Josh snatch the cup from Jake’s grasp to steal a sip of his own.

“And, it made sense…his reason. Once he said it out loud it made so much sense I still don’t know how I’d missed it. He said things were falling together too cleanly for the band. That he knew they were headed for something that would be too heavy to easily put down, and that he knew it wasn’t what Josh wanted.”

A sigh sounds sad, but her eyes swim with pride for her youngest twin. “I told him he should let his brother make that call, but he’s always been wiser than the rest of us when it comes to Josh, and he said ‘That’s the thing, ma. He’s always gonna choose what I want. He has to think he’s choosing what I want.’”

Your throat feels tight with tears bitten back, “The way they have carried each other all through life is just…” you fall silent, lost for apt words.

“Yeah, well, they used to beat the hell out of each other on a regular basis, too, but that is for another day..” She nods toward the doorway behind you, and you turn to see Lil, rubbing her eye with one fist, and clutching her blanket with the other, as she stumbles nearer to coherency and her grandmother.

Karen scoops her up and whispers in her ear…Lil nods along and nuzzles her blankie, which is actually an old shirt of her daddy’s cut in half. Maroon and decorated with strange, colorful, geometric shapes, it has been her comforting companion for as long as you’ve known them.

“Okay, then…” Karen stands and deposits her favorite person down on her teensy feet. “Time to get this lunch finished up.”

Lily is sent off with a bribery popsicle to play with Rosie and Sam, as the two of you begin preparing to feed the brood.

~

“Why do I always find you up here, poppins?” He’s leaning against the doorframe, like the casually dapper lead in some movie he would never watch.

You turn away from the desk, where you’ve been gingerly touching relics, as though strolling through a particularly lenient museum.

You love this space, and you make no apologies for it. “I like it in here. Comforting chaos is kind of your brand. Both of you. Why do you always seem to be sneaking up on me in here?”

He grins softly as you lob the question back at him. “I suppose I am always sneaking up on you, aren’t I? Looking for you, searching you out, hunting for my girl.”

Hunting for my girl…jesus.

A gentle hum is your only reply as he slips into the room, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. He has showered since the lilac bush incident, and stepped into clean clothes that still somehow look disheveled.

His hair is still slightly damp, and you long to bury into it, to breathe in the perfume of fresh shampoo and him.

“You spoiled me last night, you know, babe.” Down he plops on his bed, the crowned royal head draped across his sovereign throne, just as he had been the last time you found yourself in this room with him. “Why don’t you come over here and allow me to indulge a little more, hmm? Can you be quiet, pretty girl?”

“Jake.”

He kisses the air lazily in your direction, folding his hands behind his head against the pillow, like you haven’t spoken his name at all, “C’mon, baby, I haven’t had my dessert yet.”

You want to go to him. God, how you want to go to him. You want to climb on top of him and fuck his beautiful mouth until you fall apart, and then you want to lie with him in this silent world it seems time has forgotten. You want to be his while her face smiles out of all those curling, yellowing, snapshots. She was so beautiful, a stunning package to hide all the ugliness she had in store for his precious heart.

But, you want truth even more.

“Would you have ever told me?” Your question - accusation? - comes a whisper.

He sits up slowly, eyes locked in and narrowed on yours. He knows what you’re asking, but he’s trying to make certain. You let him watch you for the longest stretch, with his pretty face tilted, studying, observing, until you’re fighting to sit still under his white hot scrutiny.

“Yes.” He nods, at last. “I think I probably would have. It’s interesting, isn’t it? The way you coax the truth out of us. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”

There they go again, singing different verses of the very same song.

“She’s what you gave up?” You lean forward, hushed and hungry for answers. “Like we talked about?”

He nods again, barely perceptible in the movement. “Like a kidney, right, poppins? Only so, so much worse.”

Questions gridlock inside your head as he shakes his own. “I told you before, it isn’t my story to tell, babe…and that’s just the way this one has to be.”

He closes up shop with a blink and saunters, calm and cool as ever, over to the door. “C’mon then, Mary Poppins, if you aren’t going to allow me to have my way with you, we really should rejoin the others.”

~

“Would you like something light?” Josh peers into his fridge while you watch from your perch on the counter. “I just picked up some strawberries from that little stand around the corner, I could make us a big salad. Fruit, nuts, romaine, a nice vinaigrette?” He holds up the basket of berries proudly. “Look how fat they are. Fucking beautiful.”

“Whatever you want, Josh,” you smile at his enthusiasm, as well as his eagerness to please.

He turns his attention to the pantry, and your pulse picks at the memory it conjures. “Pasta?” He holds up a box of angel hair, shaking it around invitingly. “I could whip up some butter and herbs, get you drunk on carbs.”

“Seriously, whatever you want is fine. Order a pizza for all I care.”

True to his predictions, Lily remained at the Kiszka homestead, and was half asleep in Jake’s arms by the time the two of you took your leave. And now here you sit, aching to blurt out question after question while he forages in his kitchen to put together a meal you couldn’t care less about.

“Alright,” he nods, and back to the fridge he goes, finally turning to face you bearing an untouched container of his beloved veggie sushi rolls. “Pretties for the thief?”

“It was one damn piece, Joshua.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at his ridiculous name calling.

“Grab a white and a couple glasses,” he nods over at the wine rack.

You do as instructed, and join him where he has settled in the living room, placing the stemware carefully on the coffee table before uncorking the bottle of reisling you selected. It should be chilled, but neither of you have ever cared much to begin with.

On his elegant end, he loudly wrenches open the plastic container and slides it over unceremoniously.

Without cheers, he tips his glass and then shrugs, “Okay, sweetheart, this is the story of myself, my Lily, and my idiot brother…”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @jakesgrapejuice @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[miquella-everywhere]

Miyazaki said that the SoET was supposed to complete “The Elden Ring circle” and “honour GRRM’s contributions” by “focusing entirely on Miquella” 😭

When I heard about the DLC originally I was worried they were gonna make Miquella cheaply evil, because Fromsoft is allergic to positive divinity and good endings I guess. But looking at all the Miquella lore it would make just no sense, the best-worst outcome could’ve been Miquella corrupted by Mogh. They didn’t even make it an interesting evil. I have a friend who thought Miq was brainwashing ALL his followers, which thankfully isn’t the case. This is one of those “twists” or more “complex” endings where the straight forward route is a thousand times better. Isn’t us helping Miquella fix everything so much more interesting ? Miquella is supposed to be a parallel to Marika, isn’t it natural for us, tarnished warrior, to take up Godfry’s role? And not the out of nowhere larper. “Age of Compassion” is already set up as a name! Also as everyone said, Godwyn is just wasted! Why don’t we help Miq grant him a true death? Imagine the rotten, bulbous undead Godwyn as the final boss and act of mercy. Imagine if we could help Malenia too ughh. Who cares about Fia and her taking advantage of Godwyn’s remains.

By the way, do we get any mention of Miquella’s shadow? Or Fingers?? Good on the Dragon and Marika lore we love a nuances queen

"Focusing entirely on Miquella" 😒

I've been trying to avoid as many spoilers as possible, since the leaks ruined the build up and nearly everything for me, but from the people that I have been talking to they all say that Miquellas presence in the DLC is almost like an afterthought and his only major role is to be Radahns backpack in the final battle...

So basically I've been getting the impression that Miquella's entire development feels forsaken and pushed aside and that makes the final boss even more of a "Wait, what the fuck????" moment than it already is 😭 Even my bestie @marble-writes who is primarily a dragon slayer(go queen kill them all👏😂) and not much of a lore enthusiast said that Miquella's big twist felt so out of left field and lazy...

Back when the first trailer dropped I was literally frothing at the mouth at the idea of Miquella being our companion and guide, similar to Melina's role, through the Realm of Shadow. And it makes sense! Base-game lore built up Miquella as this kind, compassionate soul, so why wouldn't he be our friend? Why wouldn't he be our guide because, just like the promo said, we were being guided by him. And even if he didn't turn out to be a companion I at least expected him to be like Ranni in that he would be a major NPC and quest giver and we could interact with him and help him with whatever he needed help with...

But nope, just toss all that wonderful potential aside and make him the big-bad backpack and a dollar-store Serosh rip off :'(

I'm just... so devastated, especially after reading that article with Miyazaki saying that he wanted everything to go "full circle" when really it all just feels like a series of dashed lines that don't connect but vaguely form a circle. There's far too much missing to even really call it a cricle :(

AND GOD MIQ AND MALS SHADOWS!!!! I have not seen or heard anything about that so I am assuming that their shadows, the one that every empyrean is supposed to have, are ignored and forgotten just like Miquella's character development 😭 (and if im wrong and they are there dont tell me, i want to find and experience them for myself)

But still its yet another thing that is completely forgotten and leaves even more plot holes within SotE's lore and further erodes Elden Rings story as a whole 😭

and I dont know anything about the fingers at this point sorry :(

[luthienne]

what do you do for a living? (/job?) I am currently in a crisis and need some guidance. I look up to you a lot, I love your blog, we have the same passions for poetry and writing and music, even daredevil! My crisis is that I dont know what to do. In university I take classes but I dont know what I want to be. My art and writing feel pointless sometimes. All the jobs i want to do I know im not skilled enough to achieve or itd be very hard to get by. If you dont mind giving out advice... please help! ❤

hi anon <3 i think that figuring out what we're supposed to do for a living often gets tied to the idea that we're supposed to find that one niche in the world where we fit, where we're meant to be and where we're meant to contribute; where we're meant to shine, and find deep meaning in our own lives. and maybe that does happen for some people. but in reality i think we're all capable of doing many different things, and finding purpose in many different things. and in working toward many different skillsets we acquire different skillsets that apply to many other types of work.

and i don't think anything is ever set in stone. i got my undergrad & grad degrees in music, and then i found that i didn't have it in me to be a part of that world anymore. and i felt that i had no meaning in my life without it. i was No One without music, i had no identity outside of my voice—despite the deep sense of purpose and fate, even, that i felt for my life up until that moment in music, in singing, in acting. up until that moment i knew in my bones my purpose in life. and then the ground was swept out from under me. it didn't matter that i had known with certainty what my life was supposed to be because it wasn't that any longer. and i realized that i could never again tie my identity to my art, to my music, to my writing, to my job. my voice has a purpose not because it must be enough to sustain me financially or because enough people have validated my talent but because it brings me joy. i came back to music because singing brought me joy again; i thought i would never feel that again.

something i have learned through this is 1) music, like most other art forms, is not a meritocracy; there is no such thing as "you are an excellent [artist/singer/writer] and therefore you will have the career owed to you" because so much more than merit and hard work go into careers like this. it takes not only talent and work ethic but circumstance and luck and wealth. lessons cost money, coachings costs money, auditions cost money, applications cost money, travel costs money, wardrobe costs money. 2) the process is not the career. i love to practice, i love to learn music, i love to get into character, and to engage with my colleagues in rehearsal rooms and onstage. i don't love the abuse thrown at singers from directors and teachers and coaches, i don't love auditions, i don’t love the unpredictability of gig work and contract work, i don't love the expendable lens through which singers are viewed by the industry. i've come back to music but my goals have shifted.

all that to say, i don't think we have to know what we want to be. we don't have to want to be anything. our lives have deep meaning whether we have "successful" careers or careers that just pay the bills while we continue to pursue our creative loves. i wouldn't place too much importance on needing to find what you are supposed to be because you will become who you are supposed to be regardless. it is never a waste to pursue something we love, and we will acquire and internalize new skills in any field that we can apply to other fields. and maybe your interests will dramatically shift, or maybe not. i think it's very natural to have vocational shifts throughout our lives, and it's not indicative of failure. art that is made personally or professionally doesn't have more or less value based on its financial profit. the money i make from singing isn't enough to sustain me—i have to do other self-employment gigs to make up the difference. most artists do. but i don't regret the time and the heart i have invested in music, and i am sustained through the work i put into it, and sustained by the relationships and friendships that i have developed through it.

i send you my whole heart. i know how it feels to look at the future and not know what you're supposed to do with your one, precious life. sometimes we have to live in the uncertainty and know that it won't be like that forever. on the flip side, the moments of certainty won't last forever either. and in-between there is all the living we do. i promise you're not alone in this <3

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing IV

Master list here (includes chapter links, bios, and summary)

Warnings: restraints, blood, injury, explosion, amputation, shrapnel, bleeding out, unconsciousness, guilt, hurt/aftermath

It was another month before Halle’s healing abilities were tested. Thomas had taken Dylan and a team of twelve on a super secret mission—not even Livia had any idea even though she was likely to be promoted to team leader of another team in a matter of months.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. They’ve only been gone two hours. Nothing can go wrong in two hours. They’re supposed to be gone a week, it’s probably only a reconnaissance mission.”

“Then why take Dylan?” Halle clutched the book Benjamin had dropped for her to her chest—another one of Dylan’s recommendations.

Livia sighed. “Dylan has many skills at his disposal. Not all are offensive.”

“What does he—“

“It’s need to know, Halle. And I’m sorry, but it’s not something you need to know. Yet. I know you’ve been training for field work. As soon as there’s an opening on the team, I’m sure they’ll promote you. We could really use someone with more medical knowledge out on missions.”

“And a keeper for Dylan. So the rest of you can focus on whatever it is you do.”

Livia nodded. “Exactly! I’m sure there will be an opening soon.”

Halle was ready to head back to her room and curl up with the book when an alarm sounded. “What is that?”

Livia’s face paled. “No. It can’t be.”

“What?”

But before Livia could answer, Dylan appeared out of thin air, dragging Julian. Julian was missing his left leg from the knee down and he slumped over in Dylan’s arms. “Help,” Dylan said urgently. And before anyone could say anything, Dylan disappeared again.

“MEDIC!” Livia roared.

Livia’s words were enough to spur Halle into action. Halle pulled her belt off, quickly making a tourniquet on Julian’s stump. “Go to the med bay. Get as many healers as you can. Livia, are you hearing me?” Livia’s eyes were wide with shock, her mouth open. She made no movement or gave any inclination that she heard Halle. “Livia!” Livia nodded. “Send for as many healers that the other teams can spare. Ask for supplies. Go. Now!”

Livia hurried away just as Dylan appeared again. “What happened?”

Dylan grunted as he hauled another unconscious teammate. “Ambush. We got caught up in an explosion.”

Before Halle could ask Dylan any further questions, he disappeared. Halle was soon too busy to notice Dylan flit in and out. With each subsequent team member Dylan dropped off, Halle became busier and busier. She directed other healers to triage the team members. The one consolation Halle had as she worked to try and keep the team members alive was that at least Dylan appeared unhurt.

Halle had managed to get all the patients transported to the main med bay. She knew that Dylan would figure out where to bring the others because clearly Dylan had teleported to her specifically. All twenty team members with varying injuries were being treated in the med bay. Which just left Thomas and Dylan remaining.

“He really, really needs help,” Dylan murmured softly as he appeared just behind Halle. Thomas leaned heavily on Dylan. Blood coated Thomas’s face and Halle wasn’t sure what the extent of his injuries were.

“Thomas!” Halle hurried forward. She could see Thomas’s lips moving, but Halle couldn’t hear. “Hold on, Thomas, just a moment.”

Dylan froze as Thomas jerked suddenly, clapping the silver cuff on Dylan’s wrist, its mate appearing suddenly on Dylan’s other wrist. Dylan staggered, dropping Thomas. “HELP!” Halle roared.

What had happened? Dylan was fine a moment ago. Dylan dropped to one knee as he mumbled, “Fuck.” Dylan caught himself from falling forward with a blood coated arm.

“Where are you hurt?” Halle turned her attention to Dylan completely. Her job was to keep Dylan alive. And only Dylan. The other healers could take care of Thomas. She had one job and one job only.

“I….I would have thought this….changed things. I…I seem to n-n-never learrrrn,” Dylan said breathlessly as he struggled to remain upright.

“Dylan, where are you hurt?” Halle said as she took Dylan’s face in her hands. His face was filthy, but unbloodied. Where was all the blood coming from? Dylan’s icy blue eyes were hazy and unfocused.

“Dylan, what happened? Where are you hurt?”

“Lonely….lonely place…of..longing…..where…where I belong.” Halle’s heart quickened. Clearly he had a head injury with the nonsense he was mumbling. She had to work fast.

Halle quickly began to run her hands along Dylan’s hair. His neck. His back. Halle’s mouth went dry when Dylan flinched as Halle’s fingers were quickly soaked with blood as she touched Dylan’s upper back.

“Please….it hurts…..no more. Pl-Please…..no more.”

Halle tried to drag Dylan to an exam table, struggling with Dylan’s weight. He didn’t seem so large standing next to Thomas, but as Halle struggled to move Dylan, she realized Dylan was heavier and taller than she originally thought. Dylan was lean, but he was all muscle.

Halle cried out her frustration as healers and other team members flitted past her, not bothering to try and help. She couldn’t help Dylan like this. “You,” Halle said to the closest team member from Bravo team. The man looked confused. “Yeah, you. I need you to help me get him to the other med bay. Now.”

“Are you sure?” He looked nervous as he spoke. “You don’t think he could—“

“He is going to bleed out on this floor unless I can treat him. And I can’t treat him here if none of you will help. So move. NOW!”

The Bravo team member did as Halle ordered, moving quickly so as to minimize his contact with Dylan. Dylan moaned with pain as he was dragged down the hall. Halle tried not to think of the trail of blood he was leaving behind. “Please….no more.”

“Hold on, Dylan. Hold on. Nearly there,” Halle said as she opened Dylan’s door. She pushed through and shoved everything off the nearest exam table. “Lay him here, on his stomach,” Halle ordered as she began to put all the gauze she could carry in her arms.

Dylan moaned softly as he was dumped onto the table none to gently. Halle glared at the retreating back of the Bravo team member. She didn’t have time to chase after him. “Hold on, Dylan. Hold on.”

Halle inhaled sharply as she could see Dylan’s back. There were so many pieces of shrapnel embedded beneath Dylan’s skin, Halle had no idea how Dylan survived the blast.

“It hurtssss…..alone……p-p-painfulllll. Pl-Pl-Please, nnnnnno-o-o-o-o mmmmmore,” Dylan whimpered softly. His eyes fluttered open and closed as he spoke.

Dylan’s words were so full of sadness. “You’ll be ok, you’ll be ok. I’m going to take care of you,” Halle murmured as she watched Dylan’s eyes flutter closed once more.

“That’s probably for the best, Dylan,” Halle said as she quickly cut away what remained of his shirt. She began the slow, painful process of extracting all the shrapnel and stitching Dylan’s wounds closed. “This is going to hurt a lot.”

It was a miracle Dylan had been alive and walking with the number of large pieces of shrapnel embedded deep in his back. How had Dylan been—what Halle guessed was—teleporting with so many passengers when he should have been unconscious? How had Dylan not seemed to feel pain or suffer from his injuries until Thomas re-cuffed him? Why had Thomas re-cuffed him so quickly? He was just trying to help. He hadn’t made any effort to escape. Or to hurt anyone. If anything, he saved the team.

It was with a pang of sadness that Halle realized what Dylan had been talking about. Dylan wasn’t talking about the shrapnel, or the fact that he was bleeding to death. No, Dylan was talking about what really hurt him: that he was lonely. No one treated Dylan with care or kindness. Dylan, as far as Halle was aware, was completely socially isolated, hated even. Halle made a promise as she worked that she wouldn’t let Dylan suffer in silence any more. Dylan couldn’t help what he was.

From everything Halle understood about Dylan, Dylan had only tried to help the team. Had never tired to break free. Had never tried to hurt a team member. And yet he was kept in a cage unless he was being used as the living weapon he was.

“I’ll be your friend. It seems like you could really use a friend, Dylan,” Halle whispered to Dylan as she bandaged the last of Dylan’s wounds. Dylan still hadn’t woken, but Halle hadn’t expected him to. Halle had started IV antibiotics, fluids, painkillers, and had given Dylan a transfusion. She didn’t expect Dylan to wake for some hours yet. But as she settled into a chair next to Dylan, Halle made a promise that Dylan wouldn’t wake alone, that she would be there. That she would always be there for Dylan.

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

@seysposts @cosmic-butterflys @wormjerky @godnessofmagic

@daddyslittlestgirlll

@thatlittlefirestarter @defire @jthecalmone @shook-skull @sagencrafts

@theforeverdyingperson @bilightningwhumper @cryptid-potato @fox-fox234 @deepfriedpan

@4-err0r-4 @half-duck @bigmiki @amberconnverse636 @penguin4473-blog

@abbyreader23 @lateuplight @firelan @octafi @paingoes

@xo7-parad0x @whumpandcomfort @kazekunai @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe @soul-of-a-local-bard

@dragonkales @kitarajy-kari @carosbee @celestialsoyeon @knightinbatteredarmor

@kay-kayxb177 @alwaysjaywalking @decayanddie @demetercabingreen-thumb @never-enough-novels

@whump-a-bear-workshop @sizzlingtigerwerewolf @urmum-11 @velcrostrip @rattypop

@lexiebiss-blog @whumplump @geozone430 @jumpywhumpywriter

[whumpshaped]

prev @enigmawritesstuff

tw vampire whumper, self-sacrifice, intimate whumper

Something more. If the vampire wasn't lying, and they were about to be stripped of everything they own... then they didn't have anything more.

"Tick, tock, hunter. I'm leaving soon." It disappeared from Whumpee's sight, so quick that they had no chance of stopping it when it grabbed the stake they kept hidden under their cloak. Its breath was hot against their neck, and the anxiety kept them in place without any effort on the vampire's part. "I'm about to go hunting."

"You don't have to," was all they could come up with. "I– I'm right here, offering–"

"This is what you heroic, self-sacrificial humans fail to understand." It slipped the stake out of Whumpee's belt loop, throwing it across the enormous room. "You think everyone is like you. Suppose a deer came knocking on your door. 'Oh, kind sir, I'm here on behalf of all the creatures of the woods. I'm willing to die for you again and again to satisfy your hunger, but please, leave the rest of us alone.' Would you take the offer?"

"Yes!" they said emphatically, without hesitation.

"You see, others might miss the taste of rabbits. Cows. Pigs. It gets tiring, to kill the same captive deer over and over again. It gets boring. Stale. And what about the people hunting for sport? They'd miss the thrill."

Whumpee sucked in a breath. "Then I ask you to give me a chance. To prove that I can be interesting."

"And how would you do that, my little fawn?" The vampire sounded awfully amused, which was at least an indication that they were keeping its attention.

"You will give me back my stake, let me out into the woods, and I will give you the hunt of your life as many times as you want. And whenever you don't? I will sit still for you right here, in the comfort of your own home, and you can have me as your lazy meal."

"And how exactly would that differ from keeping you as my 'lazy meal' and hunting everyone else for sport?"

"Because you want to prove to me just how powerful you are." They finally found the strength to turn around and look up at it, staring into those red eyes with all the courage they had. "Because you want me to know that even if you give me advantages, even if you level out the playing field, you can catch me as many times as you want. Because you think I'm arrogant, and you want to let me go and hunt me down yourself. Because now you feel like it's a personal challenge, and no one has ever challenged you like this."

The vampire grinned, and Whumpee could already feel those sharp fangs piercing their neck. "Is that so?" It almost looked impressed, which Whumpee took as a good sign. "Very well. Grab your stake and run, hunter. Although I'm not sure that name fits you anymore."

~

general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

[christiannerd]

IBS is a disability

TW for discussion/vent about how a disability affects me, and mention of having to hide pain

Disclaimer: I am new to Tumblr, and have yet to watch an etiquette video. If I have accidentally said or done anything I wasn't supposed to, it was entirely unintentional, and I deeply apologize. I will correct it as soon as I am made aware.

Warning: long post ahead (under the cut)

IBS should be considered a disability. I know a bunch of people in the disabled community online already consider it one, but legally it's not considered one.

Sure, im still able to have a job and do my school work, but that doesn't mean it doesn't make those things harder than it would be for someone who's digestive system isn't a mine field.

What happens when I have a flare-up at work? Which, by the way, has happened before. I can't just take a 2 hour bathroom break in the middle of my 8 hour shift! So I just stand there. in pain. ignoring the pain. keeping that customer-service smile on my face so the customers don't notice I'm in pain.

One time (before I had my meds, so the pain was a lot worse back then too) I was working a shift and my boss stationed me in the elevator. Literally the most useless job I could have been given, I was just there to press the buttons for customers. (I had a more important role at one specific spot in the shift, but that lasted like 5 minutes). I had a flareup towards the beginning of that shift. I could tell this was going to be a multi-hour bathroom visit, so I couldn't do anything about it until I got off work. I was in so much pain that I just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. But of course, I couldn't do that. I had to stand there, and smile, and keep working. So not only was I having to smile through the judgemental stares and comments bc I was being paid to press elevator buttons, but I had to ignore being in agonizing physical pain as well.

Its not that my IBS stops me from having a job, but it probably effects my performance at my job. Who can focus in that much pain? Sure that day focus wasn't really an issue bc I was just pressing elevator buttons, but in any other position it would have been a major problem. And if I dealt with the problem to make the pain go away, I'd lose several hours of work, on a consistent basis, and probably be fired for it.

And as far as school, hygine, and social life goes, I lose several hours out of my day, every day, to being stuck in the bathroom trying desperately to make the pain go away. You think that doesn't effect my ability to find time for homework? You think that doesn't effect my ability to make it to class? You think that doesn't effect my ability to take care of my body in other ways?

I very often have to choose between going to class or taking a shower, because the time I was suppose to be in the shower, I was on the toilet. I often have to choose between getting my homework done, and spending time with friends, because the time I was supposed to be doing homework, I was stuck in the bathroom. I know homework vs social life is a common time balancing problem for students, but for most people it's "less time with friends to get the homework done", but for me it's very often "no time with friends to get the homework done". It's so isolating. If I didn't see these people at church, and at club meetings, I'd probably never get to see them. (and yes, I have missed or been late to those bc of my IBS as well)

My IBS has kept me up until the middle of the night before. It's made me miss class. It's made me late to things. It's made me miss exams! (Thank goodness my professors were understanding enough to let me take it another time).

The only ways I can manage my IBS is by taking meds, and/or severely restricting my diet. My pills help me be able to avoid some of the pain from eating food, but like any disability aid, it doesn't help 100%. Without my meds, most vegetables are completely out of the question. So is a long list of fruits, and so many other things. Even tea hurts me! Coffee too! Meds help, but I'm still in pain. Less pain, but still pain. And im still spending hours in the bathroom. 1-2 hours at a time, instead of 3-4, but it's still countable in terms of hours.

This is a lifelong condition that I was born with. If any other part of my body was effecting me this way, no one would doubt that I'm disabled. Heck, this effects me more than some of the recognized disabilities that I have! How is this not a disability?

[taptrial2]

I don't know if you've explained it before (im a relatively new follower), but may I ask why you don't like agit?

okay, just for you im gonna reread it and bitch about everything that comes up that i hate. fair warning this ended up like 1000 words at LEAST. i have a lot of thoughts about agit.

EDIT: put it in google docs for a word count, its 2000 words. this is an essay

"uh yeah thats me youre probably wondering how i got into this situation.."

tucker as an influencer pisses me off so bad. tucker is a TECH geek. he likes tinkering with hardware and software. he is proud of those things. yes, he does hunger for money, but he doesn't go about it by trying to climb the social ladder, which is inherently what "influencing" is about. i don't think he'd want an audience, he's too busy coding mario 64 from scratch in his free time. he never shows serious interest in climbing the social ladder. why would he be a social media nut. i hate it.

on that note i strongly dislike the "modernization" in agit. the comic is supposed to take place very shortly after phantom planet, and suddenly everyone has iphones now. vlad's old beige whale computer is made fun of, is a punchline. a huge part of danny phantom for me that i genuinely love is the 2000s-ness of it all, the PDAs and mp3 players. it's a shame to see all that stuff go, especially when you're keeping the characters and timeline otherwise the same. it feels jarring.

i have a lot of problems with the timeline in agit, actually. we'll get there when we get there

AH yeah, the reality jumps or whatever. i keep forgetting about them because they're so nothing. so much of agit feels like padding and the cowboy cutaway + aztec cutaway feel just like that: cutaways. all the time jumps are filler and a waste of time. very little is accomplished narratively, and they eat up far too much page space. the little narrative value they do have could have been given in a quarter of the amount of pages they actually take up.

ALSO omg this is just a nitpick but sometimes pages and pages go by without proper backgrounds, just characters on solid color background fills. it makes the whole thing feel cheap and the characters feel like they're talking to each other in the void instead of a Place. once you take notice of it you can't unsee it. what backgrounds ARE present are painfully simplistic and feel claustrophobic, they feel like they have no depth or width and are trapped in the panels.

i liked vlad's appearance at first, and he does have some family guy funny moments but i hate how he's handled overall. we'll get to it

dan fusing with clockwork is pretty sick though. that's pretty cool i like that. it's neat

sam and tucker are already pretty nothing in the show, but they're even more nothing in agit, ESPECIALLY sam. they feel almost interchangeable. sam has had all of her rough edges sanded away. she needs to be Cool and Likeable so they just made her completely bland. there is no friction to be had between friends, they don't bicker, they just go YOOO at each other and have no other real chemistry. the whole time she's just cardboard.

CINEMASINS DING the first time danny puts the specter deflector on vlad in the show it does NOT depower him completely and he can push through it for an impressively long time, but in agit he's instantly de-ghosted. DING. im just biased because i hate this shit but still

OH MY GOD. OKAY. I JUST GOT TO A PART THAT PISSES ME OFF SO BAD OK SO sam asks vlad how many countries he could have fed to build his stupid secret football field lair (said affectionately) and he says "thirteen. i am who i am." I AM WHO I AM. THAT'S A SPECIAL TOOL THAT WILL HELP US LATER.

the cowboy cutaway lasts SEVERAL pages and adds NOTHING of value. NOTHING. its literally just "oops dropped the infimap ok picked it up now back to the important conversation we were having before". its so nothing. and it goes on. for ten pages.

i like that valerie is given something to do, but it's not much. at least she's more interesting than everyone else in the novel. it's kind of boring that she just... had her beliefs that all ghosts are evil reaffirmed... but i assume it's setup for the next graphic novel, which has me worried.

the characterization in agit overall is bland. danny is too nice, vlad is too self-aware, sam and tucker are nothing, and valerie is... badass? and i find dan being secretly a scared softie all along rather trite. i worry that the two-dimensional characterization will lead to a valerie that is villainized and stripped of her nuance. i worry about that very much.

i hate how much agit brings up vlad liking football. can we get a new joke please.

ok. let's address the "ghosts are emotions" thing. there IS something there that i can appreciate. when there is no physical body that remains, what is there to go off of but consciousness, the "soul"? what happens when your mind becomes warped over years of existence, your consciousness decaying more and more over time until you're nothing but a blob of ectoplasm that could dissolve into the ether any minute? it's interesting.

however, a glitch in time decrees the entire ghost zone to be a realm of emotion, and for ghosts to be made of emotions, and that every ghost has a Primary Emotion that they are made up of. which is stupid. and i hate it.

nobody, no matter how melted their mind is for some reason or another, is the embodiment of one specific thing, and the simplification of the human soul to just one feeling or purpose is a disservice to the complexity of what it means to be a human being. it's odious to me, a betrayal of everything people are made of, our multitudes. i have been boiled down to someone "angry" far too many times to be able to appreciate someone's entire state of being as existing for only one particular thing.

also, they cherrypick the ghosts for the explanation of the emotions thing. what emotion is the box ghost. greed is not an emotion. liking boxes is not an emotion. the box ghost, god love him, is not just one thing; even a ghost like him contains multitudes, multiple desires.

the idea of a singular purpose also makes me sincerely worried for the people reading this novel and trying to embody it. as a teenager, trying to embody characters i idolized in cartoons only took a toll on my mental health and made it more difficult to navigate relationships. i understand not everyone is a sponge in this way, but as someone who was raised by tv instead of people, i cannot overemphasize the importance of fiction in an adolescent's life. it helps construct their worldview. especially for someone who is isolated from the outside world and has to construct their reality from the media they consume, like i had to as a child.

danny fenton is a 14 year old boy. he is a child. we have many pieces of fiction exploring how playing hero as a teenage boy and shouldering the emotional burdens of other people over your own is fundamentally damaging to your ability to navigate life in a healthy way (adventure time is an example of this that does it really well, steven universe is an example of this that i hate for unrelated reasons). i, as a 14 year old myself at some point, felt my responsibility was to other people above myself. that is treated as heroic in the narrative. it is not heroic. it is damaging.

danny was allowed to be of many minds in the show. he desired a lot of different things, fought for a lot of different reasons. to give this child the sole responsibility of healing two worlds and treating it as sweet, as something to be celebrated, instead of something horrifying that no child should ever have to shoulder... is odd.

speaking of, i have watched danny phantom all the way through not too long ago. i have a fresh pair of eyes not tainted by 20-odd years of fandom fermentation. the danny i know in the show is sweet and heroic, yes. but he's selfish and immature, he picks fights and throws the first punch, insults people to their face unprovoked, and is generally a little shit. and he's a misogynist, lest we forget.

i truly believe our danny would not want to shoulder this responsibility. he does not have the emotional maturity to do so. he refuses fights when he can, but does demonstrably find it thrilling to fight when it does come to blows. he's a person, he contains reasonable contradictions to have, especially when youre 14.

danny has very little sympathy for ghosts. he doesn't much care about their emotional wellbeing or their interests. he has very black and white thinking - he is the hero, they are the villains, he beats the bad guys. to have him suddenly say "yes, i not only have the capacity to help these people, but it is my duty to help them" is absolute gibberish. that's not danny.

not to mention that most of these ghosts are ADULTS who have been dead for decades. for him to take on the responsibility of helping ghosts, he is shouldering the trauma of death and some subjects he simply does not have the worldly experience to understand, let alone help with. that's fucking ridiculous.

i also feel like "i'm gonna heal the rift between worlds" would lead to a star vs the forces of evil series finale situation that causes WAY more problems and raises WAY more questions than it solves. the ghost zone and the human world are complimentary forces, the spiritual and the physical, and i find it much more interesting when they ARE seperate and were never as one in the first place. it gives more room for lore expansion, more room for stories. in my opinion.

let's talk about vlad. i HATE how vlad is handled in agit.

this is, again, supposed to take place right after phantom planet. i know the fandom hates talking about phantom planet, but let's fucking talk about phantom planet. it's canon. we cannot ignore it. it is part of the show.

in phantom planet, vlad conspires to nearly destroy the world to get what he wants. he squeezes the world's politicians for billions of dollars and wants to be considered the hero on top of it all, the one who saves the day. he is selfish and uncaring.

so you expect me, the audience, to accept that very soon after phantom planet, vlad is self aware enough to realize that he is the source of his own misery.

BULL.

SHIT.

vlad is not emotionally mature enough to have this revelation. in canon, it took him a decade of hiding in a cave without his ghost powers and with everyone he cared about long dead for him to realize he had done anything wrong. even then, he did not have the energy to do anything, to mobilize himself. all he could do was hunker down and wallow.

thusly, vlad realizing he has pushed everyone away himself after one fight with a time god makes no sense. it does not align with anything we have seen of him, pre-s3 flanderization or post. he still has other people he can blame, other things he can try. he still has plenty of walls and he can still deflect. this is not a situation in which someone's years and years of arrested development and denial can be crumbled.

i feel many think this is an earned moment because of the real life time that has passed between the end of the show and now, but in the chronological timeline, it is abrupt, inconsistent, and puzzling.

vlad dedicating himself to making amends with everyone he's hurt after one fight is stupid and i hate it. it was not earned. it's fanservice. it's pandering.

i also find the odd backpedaling on dan himself odd. his depiction in tue is very much one embracing his lack of humanity and caring. to add in that he actually does miss his family and his whole deal in that episode was just a mask feels disingenuous to me. it feels very "forgiving white diamond"-y to me, and for context, i fucking hate how steven universe handled the diamonds on every conceivable level, so it bringing to mind steven universe makes me want to turn my skin inside out

"oooo im secretly so lonely actuallyyy" this is so boring. this is so boring.

also, vlad abruptly deciding hes nice now is definitely a plot device to get dan a temporary body for some goddamn reason. him disintegrating because of something something quantum time mechanics is also arbitrary.

also its so funny that at the end they were like "turns out ghosts are feelings and stuff! anyway time to kick the notoriously harmless box ghost's ass" like come on man. fuck you.

anyway i hate the steven universe-ification of danny phantom that agit presents and i reject it thoroughly. thank you for coming to the hater conference

[ameagrice]

Genesis

chapter two

summary: a grand plan your best friend devises turns on its head, leading the both of you to serious danger.

For as long as you could remember, all there was, was FEDRA.

And for as long as you could remember, there was Rudy Wilson. A funny boy with a mop of copper hair, always unkept and knotted, and despite his habit to get in trouble every other day at school, he was happy, and he was your best friend. You always had (and supposed you always would) do everything together, even if it got you into trouble.

Which, unfortunately for you, happened quite a lot.

“How many times do I have to tell you?l Fields sighed exhaustedly, tapping his hand on his desk at every word. “Do not follow in that boy’s footsteps. You’re digging your own grave.”

You blink up at the ceiling, and then out of the window, behind Lieutenant Fields and his mop of curly hair. He was fairly young, and fairly fond of you—something you weren’t sure you should be happy about. Extra attention never had been a priority.

His muffled words came into full focus when he snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you listening to me right now?”

You snapped, face fierce. “Yes. And I don’t need a lecture.”

“Who would you rather? Me, or the old hag down the hall?” He leaned forward, and you caught the green in his eyes.

You didn’t answer him directly. “Come on. I didn’t do anything wrong. Can I just go?”

He paused, remaining quiet for a second. Then, “Get into a fight like that again because your little friend can’t take care of himself, and you’re out. You’ve had five warnings.” He paused, and eyed you carefully. “You’ve got potential. Buckets of it. Don’t waste it.

Now, get out of my office.”

A single bell rang all over the building, indicating the most anticipated time of the day: lunch time, at exactly twelve-forty. You swung open the office door, pulling it shut behind you. And, as you stepped out into the hallway, so did the troublemaker you called your best friend.

Directly in front of you, with scarlet cheeks and a sharp smile, stood Rudy Wilson, at attention.

“You got Fields,” he smirked. “Lucky.”

“I’m starting to think you have a thing for her,” you nodded at the door of the second most terrifying Lieutenant of FEDRA school.

Rudy shrugged, setting off down the hallway. Already the sound of other students yelling from floors below was getting louder.

“I love her to pieces,” Rudy sang, humming. He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Especially all those wrinkles.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Descending the next two floors, you landed on ground level, and promptly joined the lunch queue, forming against the walls of the gymnasium.

If you had known that day would be your last normal one with your best friend, you might have talked more. You might have cracked another joke at Rudy’s expense, or even thanked Lieutenant Fields for always letting you off lightly. But nobody ever really knows when the last day of something will arrive, and it’s only when the wheels are turning and time is ticking that you start to realise you ought to have done more.

Your alarm clock reads two-past midnight when Rudy’s shadow forms on the fire escape just beyond your dormitory window. You didn’t even miss the warmth of your bed, when it came to escapades with Rudy.

“I’ve got something to show you, later,” he explained through a mouth full of potato at lunch. You’d nodded, excited at the prospect of another secret outing.

You climbed out of bed, and reached under it for your best shoes: an old pair of green lace-ups, and your backpack. Without a blip, you descended the fire escape together.

“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” You asked, climbing slowly down the ladder.

He hummed dramatically. “Maybe.”

“Is it somewhere I’ve been before?” You glanced down, wondering. He simply shook his head.

“Surprisingly, no.”

That final night together, Rudy was dressed in faded jeans, almost grey in colour, a too-big black tee tucked into his too-small pants, and a black jacket. His copper hair had been pushed back from running his fingers through it so often, and his sharp face was alight with the glee of childish mischievousness.

Past piles of rubble, past mountains of ash you walked, remains of the fireflies’ failed attempts at overruling FEDRA. Some of the buildings were only partially blown up last night, some still crumbling from months ago, and you were forced to slow your sneaking lest you wanted the rubble to bring you down with it. The air smelled of fire and dirt, the stars way up there watching two teens enjoy the beginning of their last night together. Rudy led the way, crouching behind buildings and signs when lights in the lookout towers came too close for comfort.

Eventually, you arrived at your destination.

Sceptically, you eyed the large, domed building. It was bathed in darkness, the outline barely visible in the dimmed light of street lamps.

“The mall?” You raised a brow. Rudy’s spindly figure, walking ahead, turned in a swift spin, grinning. “But…you know what’s in there, right?”

“I know what isn’t in there, more like. Now hurry up; we’re on a tight schedule.”

You followed after him promptly. “You're tellin’ me. You do know I have to be up in three hours for drill, right? I know you have the luxury of not having to be a part of that these days, but some of us haven’t been recruited by the fireflies.”

He waved his hand at you, unbothered. “Pffft. I do far more exciting things than drills with the fireflies.”

“Like what? Shooting people?”

“Hey,” he elbowed you. “You’ll be shooting people too, soon.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. “Yeah, but for good reason.”

Rudy groaned loudly. “Jesus, you do far too much kissing FEDRA’s ass.”

“Shut up and lead the way, you terrorist.”

Rudy made a start by climbing a well-established path up to the roof, using mismatched ladder parts and old boxes. His fluid movements told you, he’d been here before.

“For somewhere that’s full of infected, it’s sure lacking security,” you commented, looking up. Rudy, agile as a spider and already halfway up a bit of roof, jammed his foot against a hold and lowered his hands to help you up. His sharp smile appeared, canines slightly longer than the rest of his smile.

“Like I said before,” his deepening voice, not quite there yet, rang loudly in the dead of night. “It’s not full of infected. In fact, it never was. I’ve been working on your birthday surprise for months now, amongst other things. Lemme tell you; we’re very safe here.”

“Famous last words,” you jumped your brows. He imitated your words, sticking out his tongue.

Up the roof you went, growing ever more nervous. The night was cooler than the day—so warm today, in fact, that it thundered all afternoon. September’s cooler climate was fast approaching, thank goodness. Your hands slipped a little bit, making your way up. Thoughts ran amok. Sure, Rudy said it was safe, but how could he know for certain? The thrill of doing something new began to overtake the sense of anxiety, however, and you didn’t contemplate the infected for long.

You crouched beside Rudy, whose eyes narrowed into the dark below, searching. Water from this afternoon’s rain slipped through a gap in the roof, spattering and echoing across something down below in the dark.

“Right,” Rudy cleared his throat, grabbing your arm forcefully. “Down you go.”

Without warning, he pushed you over the edge, down the hole. You screamed, heart falling to your stomach, but you didn’t fall far. Instead of landing on concrete, you…bounced?

An old mattress cushioned your fall. Above, Rudy laughed.

Safe to say, you chewed his ear off when he landed, too.

Inside, everything had rotted. From the mattress you landed on, to the metal stairs Rudy told you to ascend; all slimy, all gross. Your ears honed in on the small sounds, listening for signs of infected;

Nothing.

“Okay,” Rudy shrugged his pack up his back. “It’s just up these stairs. But first I gotta…”

Halfway up the staircase, he reached up for a corroded metal box, nimble fingers twisting a small latch until the door swung. Inside sat a set of switches, none labelled. This didn’t matter to Rudy, who flicked them all down. You expected some sort of commotion—but nothing in the air changed.

“Oh, no way!” He had flicked a switch, and waved his hand. A sign above the door—albeit a bit rotted—came to life in vivid red. “But how?”

“Did you see those blocks of buildings earlier, on the roof?” You nodded. “Marlene told me FEDRA is starting to open them up. More people are coming into the QZ, so they need more housing. They obviously need lighting, so when they connected them up to the mains, they connected this place, too. Who knows if they meant to do it—I’m just glad they did. Makes for a great birthday present.”

You nodded along, in wonder and wondering. “But—if the lights are on, won’t somebody see? They’ll know we’re here.”

“How will they?” He scoffed. Rudy led the way up to a set of double doors. Old, yellowed stickers remained set across them: TEAM MEMBERS ONLY. “You saw this place from the outside. It’s one big, blacked out dome. People think it’s full of infected, civvies won’t come this far, and FEDRA don’t know a thing about it being connected to the mains. We’ll be alright.”

You trusted Rudy. Really, you did. In all of your shenanigans, Rudy was the instigator. Something about this huge, quiet mall sat your nerves on edge, however. You’d wandered to the old park on the far side of the QZ, and walked the streets at all hours of the night, but the sheer size of the mall, stepping inside, made you feel uneasy.

Despite this, it was also amazing.

Neon colours and bright lights illuminated the vast space. The stores themselves had long since been abandoned, rummaged through and almost destroyed. What seemed to be fake plants here and there provided a sense of life you didn’t often feel in the zone. You tried to picture the stores full, the place clean and busy.

Some stores, like Jane Norman, and Victoria’s Secret, still displayed clothes and shoes, and for some reason hadn’t been looted as well as the others, which were empty, storefront signs flickering, half-lit.

“Wait for it,” Rudy said, out of the blue. You frowned. Wait for what?

All of a sudden, music began playing quietly all over the mall, a little crackly but there. An upbeat song you’d never heard before, but loved instantly. The lights, the music, the stores…it was one thing to read old books where the characters went shopping, or had a girls trip. But to actually set food inside of the setting (albeit, very different from how they were originally written), was a strange feeling.

Your head snapped to Rudy. You were all smiles, and Rudy shoved you.

“Knew you’d like it,” he coyly brushed you off. “Come on! There’s something even better this way.”

The ‘something even better’ happened to be an escalator. You’d read about these moving staircases in books, but actually standing on one? Whole. Different. Experience.

“Hey!” Rudy called, laughing. “Look at me!” His long legs marched backwards on the escalator, which was rolling down to the floor below. Rudy remained in place, as if he were marching on air. You couldn’t help but laugh, and make your way down to the next floor by sliding down the escalator rails.

This floor had been used for restaurants and smaller stores. Rudy plumed ahead, nattering on about needing new shoes. You took your time exploring a bookstore. Some of them had rotted, full of brown mould, and were tipped face-down, pages bent. But the ones you saved, you shoved in your backpack. Only two, but more than you’d held in a while.

“I feel bad,” you told Rudy, kneeling, zipping up your backpack of new books.

He pocketed something you didn’t see. “Nobody’s gonna know. Like, ever. Take what you want. It’s your birthday.”

“I’m gonna use that explanation for the rest of my life,” you raised a brow. “It’s my birthday. Stealing is acceptable and excused.”

A plastic water bottle. A pair of socks. Books, jeans, and a sweater. Your shoulders ached with the weight in your pack.

Rudy had been quiet for a while, allowing you to explore. Now, he smiled excitedly, buzzing in place.

“And now, the finale,” he proclaimed dramatically, waving his arms. “This way, madam.”

You walked another floor. This far away, the music playing was almost inaudible.

At the end of the hallway, Rudy proudly beamed.

“Welcome to the carousel,” Rudy waved his hand. “Right this way, your ladyship.”

“No. Fucking. Way. Dude!”

All smiles, you approached the glowing amusement, shining in the dark. Horses painted with sashes of every colour sat at varying heights, lights reflecting in the mirrors.

“Your horse awaits.” Rudy climbed up onto the ride, pushing open the small door in the centre of it. He whacked something a few times, and the ride began to move, going around slowly. You hurried to join him.

“I’m afraid this is the final amusement,” he proclaimed dramatically, rolling his eyes. You couldn’t help giggling at him. “However, we have been here for two hours, and you have to be up for drill in thirty minutes. So!” He clapped his hands, and climbed the horse beside yours.

Music from so long ago, sweet and lyricless, played softly as the carousel turned. Your horses moved with the music, up and down gently. You closed your eyes, remembering this feeling of utter calm. Rudy at your side, the cold of the pole you held, and the jingling, old-worldly music. The warmth of the evening, and the knowledge that the two of you were completely alone.

The sudden jolt of the carousel almost sent you careening off your horse. Rudy exclaimed, and the carousel slowed to a stop, the music falling short. Rudy groaned, sliding of his horse.

“Awh, come on!”

A few whacks of the console later, the ride was done. Rudy came out sheepishly, shrugging. “I think we broke it.”

Despite the ride’s end, you couldn’t help smiling, climbing down. “I think you broke it. I’m not sure you’re supposed to hit electricals.”

“Whatever, loser. Wanna get going?”

As much as you enjoyed your night looting and exploring, you did need to get going. “Sure. Although I don’t appreciate having to do drill on no sleep.”

He scoffed, and then quietened. “But, did you enjoy your birthday surprise?”

He’d never admit that he was conscious of his actions. That wasn’t Rudy.

“Yeah,” you said. “Thank you, Rudy.”

You walked back the way you came. A couple of times, you thought you heard crashing, but when you mentioned this to Rudy, he shook his head.

“Just the ride breaking down,” he waved it off. “Let’s just get out of here.”

For somebody who swore the mall was safe, Rudy appeared to be on edge. He kept looking back after every noise, prompting you to walk faster.

“You’re gonna miss drill,” was his excuse.

The final time, you couldn’t deny the noise. Clicking, and groaning. An inhuman noise from just down the mall. Growing louder.

You blinked at him, fearfully. For a second, you swear your heart stopped.

Rudy had grown pale. His brown eyes looked black in his very white face. He gulped. “Don’t panic. We’re fine. We’re—”

It had been closer than you both thought it was. Out of the shadows, something snarled, and it burst forth, running at you with unnatural speed. It’s head was split open by the fungus you’d only seen pictures of, and it was more horrifying in person. Dried blood stuck to its clothes, and dribbled from its mouth. It shrieked and screeched as it stumbled towards you, and in a frantic hurry, you screamed.

Rudy snatched up your arm and yanked you along desperately. “Don’t try to fight it! Fucking run! Go!”

Your voices echoed, the sound of the infected screaming echoing with you. Your heart pumped viciously, throat and chest burning with exertion. FEDRA school provided the basics in saving your hide—doing the real thing happened to be much, much harder. You grasped your switchblade from your pocket, flipping it open.

The Infected caught your hair. Yanked you down.

Your chin smacked the floor, and pain radiated through your face. The deafening shriek it let out rang in your ears as harsh blows from its erratic hands pounded your head. All you could do was try to crawl away.

Rudy yelled, another weight added to the mix. You were released momentarily. You looked up; your switchblade lay halfway across from where you lay, breathing deeply. A little away from you, a sharp knife stuck out of the Infected’s neck, blood leaking out. Rudy fought with all his might, kicking, punching. You found your feet, trying to hurry and save Rudy, but it was like you were stuck in jelly, everything felt weird. Rudy howled in pain, the Infected screamed, and your knife lay in your hand once again.

With a strange determination, you ran over, grabbed the Infected by the shirt, and drove your blade into it with a fury that frightened you. Again and again, until it grew quiet and motionless.

All was quiet. The scuffle of your shoes, rounding the dead Infected, felt jarring.

Rudy was breathless. You were breathless.

“Oh shit. Holy fuck.”

Pure shock. Adrenaline ran through your veins, and your whole body shook. Rudy’s eyes didn’t meet your eyes. His whole face fell.

On the floor, they rested midway. You slowed down, and directed your eyes in the direction his were.

There, on your wrist, lay a bleeding wound in the shape of teeth. The sight made you woozy, forcing you to sit down before you fell down.

The despair hit quickly. “Oh, not today. Not my birthday.”

Rudy huffed a tearful laugh. “Any other day is fine?”

You wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt and walk out of here to the parade yard. Truthfully, the bite really fucking hurt. If you didn’t wrap it up soon, you’d bleed more than you liked.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

Rudy took a minute. Then he pulled up the too-big jacket, and revealed a similar bite on his wrist. The bone looked swollen and bruised, and bled profusely.

You moved over to your best friend, and together you warmed up, still shaking.

“I don’t want to be like that. I don’t—” he choked tearfully, dark eyes on the Infected. “I don’t want to be like that. End it. I’ll do the same. For you.”

As if Rudy predicted it, he declined first. The twitching a half hour or so after the accident. By now, your classmates would be asking around for you. Not long after the twitching did Rudy cry in pain. You couldn’t do it then.

Only when there was no sign of Rudy left, that was when you got on with it.

You really didn’t want to think about what would happen to you. Or rather, what wasn’t happening.

Hours passed, you’d stopped the bleeding, but nothing more had occurred. The skin around the bite had bruised, and turned puffy, but…you hadn’t changed. And it was well past the change time. So what the hell happened?

You decided to move. You couldn’t sit any longer with Rudy’s body, especially now there was a chance there was more than one Infected.

You shared a final look with Rudy, eyes closed like he was just fast asleep.

They caught you on your way out—Fireflies.

—

CHAPTER THREE

[n7cloacadestroyer]

Very true. I also have doubts that the thorian that Shepard fights on Feros is well and truly dead. Shiala and ExoGeni's recovery team are the only sources we have that confirm its apparent demise. ExoGeni has a vested interest (as well as a demonstrated willingness) to lie. They were willing to purge the colony to protect their secrets and probably would have if Shepard hadn't intervened. So we know that we can't trust them.

Shiala, on the other hand, seems trustworthy at first. She's vital to the plot of ME1, as the prothean cipher would be lost to Shepard after the thorian's supposed death had she not intervened. She wishes to stay with the colonists to atone for their suffering which she feels responsible for. Even if you take the renegade option to kill her, it still reflects well on her character.

But something we often overlook is that she was definitely indoctrinated by Sovereign, following Matriarch Benezia to join Saren. A reminder that Matriarch Benezia was so far gone that she couldn't stop herself from trying to murder her own daughter. Sovereign probably couldn't have exerted any more control over her without turning her brain into pudding.

Indoctrination is stated to be a degenerative condition by multiple characters throughout the series, but we hear about it first from Rana Thanoptis, who was studying the phenomenon at Saren's base on Virmire. We learn that Sovereign (and later, all reapers) emit a kind of energy field undetectable by contemporary technology that subtly alters brain waves and thought patterns, making organic minds more susceptible to suggestion by slowly removing the capacity for independent thought.

If we take the narrative at face value, Shiala remains the only character in the entirety of the Mass Effect series that has experienced any degree of remission in their level of reaper indoctrination. This isn't extremely suspicious on its own within the context of Mass Effect 1, but given what we learn about it going forward? Gigantic red flag.

It's also worth noting that Saren offers Shiala to the thorian in exchange for the cipher, a fate she willingly accepts as an indoctrinated slave. Saren then betrays the thorian, as he has a reputation for. No surprise there. What is surprising is his apparent lack of target priority.

If Saren/Sovereign wanted to breach the colony to destroy the main thorian node beneath it, why didn't they just bombard it from orbit? Instead, they send the geth to attack the humans in the colony and the nearby ExoGeni building. "Killing the flesh that would tend the next cycle," as the thorian says.

There is another creature within the Mass Effect continuity that reproduces via spores--the Thresher Maw. That's the reason we find them on so many different worlds in-game. Their microscopic spores are hardy enough to survive dormant within the vacuum of deep space and atmospheric reentry, so they are unwittingly spread by space travelers, both past and contemporary.

What if Saren was cutting off the thorian's vectors of propagation without directly attacking it? Because large-scale disturbances like bombardment risk throwing its spores into the atmosphere or worse--into orbit where it could cling to passing vessels along with other bits of magnetized space dust.

I also suspect that the geth platforms on Feros were so entrenched because they were never intended to leave. If the thorian's influence can indeed overpower reaper indoctrination, as it seems to be doing with Shiala, the machines have a very good reason to be concerned and act accordingly. They seemingly intend to starve it out/quarantine it--a smart move, all things considered. Especially if my suspicions are correct.

We meet Shiala again on Illium in Mass Effect 2. Her skin has turned green, and she seems fatigued, to put it mildly. We learn that the colonists continue to experience strange side effects and rudimentary linked nerve signals, even sharing sensations like heat and pain when near one another. In addition, they experience headaches and muscle spasms similar to when they were under thorian control seemingly at random. She also notes that her biotics have become 'unstable'.

The colonists contacted a Baria Frontiers survey group to perform some medical scans to diagnose and resolve their chronic issues and were offered a contract to get them for next to nothing. The problem was that they had unknowingly agreed to "invasive follow-up procedures" at the company's behest. With enough charm or intimidate points, Shepard can help Shiala by convincing the Baria Frontiers rep to revise the contract.

Now we're led to believe that these procedures are being forced on the colonists simply because an uncharacteristically racist asari just wants to see them suffer… but what if the initial scans showed some kind of anomaly? If there are parasitic spores within their bodies controlling (or at least influencing) their minds, discovery of this fact would certainly spell doom for the parasite in question. So would it not be in the parasite's best interest to avoid anyone looking at the colonists too closely?

Furthermore, it's strange that the symptoms result in biotic instability for Shiala, an asari commando who has been training her biotic abilities for at least a few hundred years. Unless the thorian spores have begun to sprout and grow throughout her central and periphery nervous systems, thereby disrupting/altering the path that nerve signals must take to reach the eezo nodules in her nerves?

In Mass Effect 3, we meet her on the Citadel presidium after the evacuation of Zhu's Hope. She confirms that she is indeed indoctrinated, but says that her connection to the colonists through the residual thorian spores "is louder" than the tell-tale whispers. She and the colonists have seemingly adapted to the presence of the thorian spores and can now "feel" one another, and "act with one mind" as they fight against the reapers, "ignoring pain when the need arises." They can share some degree of learned experience as well, as Shiala further elaborates, "with one mind, the untrained fight with the skill of veteran commandos."

She's also, notably, still green. So it seems like the colonists just abandoned the whole "let's get medical care" idea and just learned to live with their new hivemind? Yeah, that's extremely suspicious given everything we know about the thorian.

Conclusion: Shiala and the colonists are simply an extension of the thorian, and this is how the creature propagates itself. Feros was not the Thorian's home world, and it was likely carried there by the protheans or a space-faring civilization that predated them as spores within their bodies. When they die, their bodies will be consumed by the spores within them and begin a new "cycle" for the thorian. (got to thinking about this reply from @dragonflight203, but it got a little too big for the reply box.)

[itsukismoon]

I Vow to You, the Shape of My Love - Chapter 3 (Cyrus)

>> chapter 4

The afternoon three days before the festival.

I was at the Church of Cheval to deliver some documents to Alex-san.

Emma: (I tried looking for Cyrus-san in the hopes we could take a break together, but I couldn’t find him…)

Emma: (Ah, there he is!)

Cyrus-san was standing in a fenced-in patch of grass with two horses.

Emma: Cyrus-san!

Cyrus: Emma, you came. Thank you for your hard work.

The two horses - one black, and the other white - who were grazing in the field turned to look at me.

Emma: Ah, that’s Orthos (*) and… Emilio’s horse, I suppose?

Cyrus: Yes, his name is Orthros (*). They’ve been especially close ever since they met (**)

(* Orthos is Cyrus’ horse, with its meaning being right/correct/straight; on the other hand, Emilio’s horse’s name, Orthros, is morning light/early dawn; I think the meanings are due to Cyrus being very rightful but with a “dimmer” light, more gentle and kind like the moon’s, and Emilio being compared to a blazing sun that scorches everything it touches)

(** this is SPOILERS!! For the twins’ past but…………. Notice how the horses aren’t related by blood? 🙂)

Emma: (So cute…)

Seeing the two animals grooming each other so intimately brought a smile to my face.

Cyrus: In Chevalier, there is a rule according to which you have to take care of your own horse… Or at least, that’s how it usually is…

Cyrus: Since Emilio is out on an expedition and couldn’t take care of his own horse, he’s left him in my care.

Emma: So that’s why you’re making them graze together like this.

Cyrus: Yes… horses are scared of me, but with Orthros around, Orthos is more docile.

Cyrus: It must be because they trust each other a lot.

Emma: Fufu, they really get along well.

Cyrus: It’s about time to put the horses back in the stables. Can you lend me a hand?

Emma: Yes!

Emma: By the way, after that… unless you have urgent plans, would you like to have lunch with me?

Cyrus: Yes, of course.

…

The sunlight filtered through the swaying trees onto the ham sandwich I took out of its wrapper (TN: so poetic for a ham sandwich LOL).

We were in the park near the church with some sandwiches and drinks we had bought from a store.

Emma: Mhh… this sandwich… it’s delicious, though a bit big.

Cyrus: There’s some sauce on the corner of your mouth.

Cyrus laughed merrily as he took out a handkerchief to wipe the corner of my mouth.

Player’s choice: Thank you (+8 sun points) // So embarrassing (+8 moond points)*

Emma, blushing: Thank you.

Cyrus: chuckles …

Emma: …Is it still there?

Cyrus: No, I just thought it was cute that you got embarrassed.

Emma, still blushing: U-uhm… please don’t look at me so much.

Cyrus: I apologise, I didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just that you were so cute that I just…

Cyrus: No, if I say something like that, I’ll bother you even more.

Emma: P-please keep it moderate.

The time we spent together at lunch was very relaxing

After we finished our sandwiches, we slowly enjoyed the rest of our drinks.

Emma: The city is more colourful than usual. It’s so wonderful seeing many people wearing dresses and tuxedos.

Cyrus: I’m sure many want to celebrate Albert-sama and Mia-sama’s silver wedding anniversary.

Emma: (Silver wedding anniversary… 25 years of marriage is an amazing thing.)

I wonder if one day I too will get married to Cyrus-san, the man sitting right beside me.

Emma: (…I hope that happens)

With a vague longing in my heart, I gazed upon the town bustling with festive mood.

[decks-writing-blog]

Gordon Swap Chapter Nine: Just a Stress Thing

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

The Xen research base was larger than Gordon would’ve thought but not by much. It was jam packed with as much research equipment as could fit in the small space. All of which would’ve been far more interesting if not for the all the dead guys, some as zombies and others as just partially eaten corpses left on the ground to rot, amongst it all. Seemingly no one had survived whatever had happened here. Not that there’d even been many with how classified this place had to be.

Another distraction from the science stuff was the search for whatever acted as the kitchen. Thankfully it didn’t take too long to find. And blessedly no putrefying corpses or parasite-controlled zombies fouled up the room. Even better, it was well stocked. All of it was Black Mesa branded astronaut food but that hardly mattered after so long with nothing to eat. It was more filling and nutritious than vending machine food too, making it even better.

Once no longer on the brink of being willing to try and eat another sliver of dead alien meat if given the chance, the search for how to turn the power on resumed with renewed intensity. That took a bit longer to find but find it they did or what was left of it. The generator had clearly upset the horde of peeper puppies they’d killed earlier and/or the zombies for whatever reason because it was thoroughly beaten up, several of its wires cut.

“Maybe there’s a backup somewhere,” Barney suggested, the optimism in his voice barely hanging on by a thread.

“I think that might be it, right there.” Gordon pointed to the other side of the room that housed another, slightly smaller generator, not that the other was particularly big. Its body was in better shape, not beat in and dented, but its main power cable was chewed all the way through after only a foot or so. Fixable in theory if one knew what they were doing with electric generator cables. The materials to do so were probably nearby too but Gordon had never had to do such a thing before and probably Barney hadn’t either. And then on top of that, “Even if we could fix it, did you see anything that looked like the portal machine?”

“Um… no. But an up to date one probably looks different.”

“Yeah, probably.” Gordon would’ve thought it would look somewhat similar though. “So, we gonna to try to fix this and hope there is or… what?” He’d already shared his thought that such a portal might be too resource intensive for a portable generator to be capable of.

“Well, the other option is to give up and move on. Not an idea I really like.”

Gordon didn’t either. “We could look at all the computers and stuff up close first. I mean we got the fancy new flashlights now with batteries to spare,” a great find, “so we don’t have to worry about running out anytime soon. But, I guess if we’re looking at everything closely anyway, it’d be easier to determine if any of it is what we’re looking for if they’re on. So uh… guess we’re fixing the generator.”

~

Replacing the generator cable was easier said than done of course but there was indeed the parts to do so in a nearby closet. No manual though. They had to figure out all of their own how to open the thing up to remove the broken cable, put the new one in, and then finally put it all back together. It took a while but they did it, somehow, and they didn’t break it worse in the process. Upon hooking it up to the base and hitting the switch, it hummed to life and a moment later the lights flickered on. Finally a win.

Now came searching the base again with lights on this time so it was easier to see. This mostly fell to Gordon as he had more personal experience with Black Mesa’s various machines. Not much in the way of alien field research but enough that he could probably determine approximately what each piece of technology was supposed to do.

There was only one place in the entire research base with an empty space big enough for a portal. It was almost certainly where the researchers were dropped in and extracted when it came time to rotate them out. But was there was a way to turn it on from this side? Could the piddly little generator they’d spent almost two hours fixing open a portal between dimensions?

Gordon went through every machine and computer in that room, thoroughly and methodically. Turning them on one by one, looking for the portal controls. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing. If the portal could be opened from this side, the means to do so wasn’t in this room. Which didn’t bode well for their chances.

The next room was the largest room and the main lab. He checked everything there too. More nothing. The rest of the base was sleeping quarters – eight bunks jammed in a room that would’ve been adequate for a single person’s bedroom – the lavatories, kitchen, a small gym area that was just a treadmill and some hand weights, and an armory. They’d missed the the latter during their first pass through the base due to the darkness. It contained a stockpile of guns and ammo, useful but not what they were looking for.

“There’s no way to open the portal from this side,” he said as he returned to Barney in the armory. He’d taken on the task of loading up a couple of the packs they’d found with food, batteries, and med-packs and then another with ammunition. Seemingly he’d just finished as he at the little table in there, the packs next to him.

“Drat. You sure?”

“Pretty sure. I even checked the treadmill screen to see if it had anything.”

“Well… fuck. What now?”

How was Gordon supposed to know? They were fucked. And it was kind of Barney’s fault. Being mad about him over it was rather hard when he was also the only reason Gordon wasn’t dead from something else. And to be fair, as soon as they saw the teleporter was malfunctioning, they both should’ve known to leave. “I guess uh… we keep going towards the tower.” Even if they couldn’t get back home, it’d be cool to see it up close.

Barney stood, grabbing the backpacks as he did so. He handed one of them to Gordon. “Maybe there’ll be another base closer to it. One with a bigger generator than can open a portal back.”

Gordon hoisted the pack onto his shoulders, careful not to brush the end of his stump against the strap. “Maybe.” It wasn’t impossible. Xen was a big place after all, why wouldn’t it have more research bases?

~

They turned the generator back off in case they decided to return and thus didn’t want to waste its limited fuel before heading out the rear exit. It was more wretched dank tunnels filled with mostly mushrooms and some bio luminescent tendrils. Thankfully it wasn’t far before they exited.

The sky overhead was a blend of beautiful blues and purples. The tower was in theory a bit closer now, though it didn’t really look it. But being able to see it again made it easier to know they were still heading towards it.

“What do you think that tower might be?” Barney asked after several minutes of walking it silence. “I mean, it’s obviously not natural, something built it. But what and why?”

“Hmm… it might be a religious thing maybe. Don’t people like to build tall structures and stuff to show off their god or whatever?” Not that Gordon knew much about religion or cared to know any more than he did. But what kind of gods might whatever aliens had made the tower worship?

“So we might be going to an alien church then. Well, I guess that’s pretty cool. As long as they don’t expect us to attend their worship services anyway.”

“Yeah, let’s hope not, huh?” Still, it’d be pretty cool to see stained glass murals celebrating the god/s of beings that lived in a whole other dimension. “Guess we won’t know until we get there.”

And so they continued to walk at a more leisurely pace now that food wasn’t a pressing issue. Making this a pleasant stroll except for the whole being stuck here thing anyway. If Gordon ignored that and his missing hand though, it was fine.

Maybe they’d find a sustainable source of food eventually and then they could just live here. Free of all the worries of modern life. No more worrying about jobs, rent, or politics. Barney for sure wasn’t likely to abandon him while they were here either. No one would want to discard their only human company in such a place.

Of course, being stuck here forever would also mean no more of the comforts of modern life either. Such as being able to go to the doctors if one got sick or injured – the healing gel they had would run out eventually. No fun passtimes like video games, internet, or TV, not that the latter was really that fun but it was okay sometimes. And a million other things. So probably it would suck more than not but at least being lonely and friendless wouldn’t be an issue. Still though, hopefully they would find…

The world shifted. One more he’d been swerving around a bulbous growth, the next it just wasn’t there anymore and he was walking completely straight. And he couldn’t be sure with how similar so much of the plant life looked but everything else seemed to have changed too. Weird. Probably it was just stress and not paying that much attention to where he was going. Blinking, he shook his head a bit to shake off the last of it before picking up his pace a bit to make up for the couple seconds he’d slowed down for.

“What do you think that tower might be?” Barney asked. “I mean, it’s obviously not natural, something built it. But what and why?”

“Didn’t you just ask that?”

“Uh… no. Did I?”

“Yeah, like five minutes ago. We settled on it might be a church.”

“Huh? Well I guess it could be. That’s kinda cool. As long as they don’t expect us to attend their worship services anyway.”

Seems Gordon wasn’t the only one experiencing weird stuff, if Barney was repeating that without remembering as well. Or maybe it was the mushrooms. They’d breathed some spores in or something and now they were high. Damn, if he was going to get high on magic shrooms he’d have liked to at least done so with a kind he knew was safe and supposed to be fun and not while traveling through a hostile alien dimension.

As they continued, he strained his senses for anything else weird. More weird shifts in place or forgetting prior conversations. Not that he’d know if he forgot any himself but he tried. … Nothing seemed weird. But then would it seem weird if he was really out of it enough? He felt sober but he’d never been high on alien shrooms before so who could say for sure what it would feel like?

Maybe it was just a stress thing. Who could blame them for that? Things had been quite stressful lately. The most stressful period in Gordon’s entire life, more so than getting his PhD had been. They were allowed a little bit of weirdness for that, right? Probably it was…

The sound of gunfire came from their right, uncomfortably close. Or perhaps comfortably close. “What are the chances that’s the military versus someone else from Black Mesa who found a way here?”

Even before Gordon was finished speaking, Barney had turned to head towards the sound. “No clue but we should definitely find out just in case they have a way back whoever they are.”

***

Despite his newfound size, Benrey didn’t seem any more inclined to help them out. Nor did he seem any more inclined to stay with them because after only maybe half an hour he was already nowhere to be seen. Thankfully he could take care of himself – even more so now – so Gordon didn’t have to worry about him.

He also didn’t have to worry about shepherding the others safely through the alien wilderness because it had already been confirmed that they were all superhuman in one way or another. It was great! Travel companions who couldn’t die so he never had to worry about resetting for them. If not for the pressing issue of fixing what he’d broke, this would’ve been a pleasant time.

They marched through the Xen wilderness at a steady pace. Judging distance to the tower was hard but as long as they could see it, they could head towards it. It was tempting to try to push hard for it but that wouldn’t be wise. They needed to be ready for battle when they got there, not worn out from the journey.

With the military having retreated from the facility and probably having never found a way to get here in the first place, they were no longer an issue. It was only the aliens now and this was their home turf. Modern weaponry continued to work well against them though even as their ambushes continued to get more intense.

That had to prove that something intelligent was behind their attacks though and that it was getting desperate. It had to be the thing they’d been sent to Xen to kill, right? But if one alien was intelligent maybe some of the others were too. If so, could they be reasoned with? If Gordon killed their leader would they surrender? Hopefully.

But of the aliens he knew of, which species might be smart? … Not the parasites, that was for sure. Probably not the ‘peeper puppies’ either, they seemed too dog-like. The most obvious suspect would be…

“Look, a city.” Tommy’s voice cut into the chatter Bubby and Coomer had been exchanging – something about the mushrooms they were passing and which ones looked edible, or at least that’s what they’d been talking about last time Gordon had paid any real attention.

Gordon looked back to see where Tommy was pointing. … Up ahead, slightly left of the direction they’d been heading. It was less a ‘city’ and more what was clearly the back of a handful of buildings. Well disguised by the terrain and surrounding foliage – if the lumpy growths that made up much of the plant life counted as foliage anyway – it had basically been invisible until they were this close to it. Even now, if Tommy hadn’t been paying more attention, Gordon might’ve gone right past it without notice.

“It’s more a village,” Bubby said.

“Or a town,” Coomer added.

Regardless of what it was exactly, it was a sign of civilization. Seems his speculation about sentient aliens held truth. Whether it was any of the alien species they’d already encountered remained to be seen.

Gordon turned to his companions and lifted a finger to lips in a request for silence. Thankfully they all respected it – for now anyway – and didn’t resume their chatter as they started for the buildings

On uneven mountainous terrain, the buildings were quite far apart in some places and closer in others. They were coming at it from to the right of what might be the entrance. Gordon angled them to enter through a thin alleyway between two of the taller buildings.

Upon nearing the end of the alley, Gordon slowed to a stop to get a better look at the place. It was indeed more a small town or village than city. Somewhat circular, everything pointing inward towards the center where a tall vertical ring stood. Cables came off it leading to something next to it. A alien machine, its use impossible to guess when so far from it.

“Vonneguts,” Tommy whispered at about the same time Gordon spotted a small group of lightning shooting aliens – presumably the ‘Vonneguts’ in question – too.

They’d exited one of the buildings, angling towards the center. Bubby stepped forward, butting in between Gordon and Tommy, lifting his gun. Gordon grabbed the barrel and pushed it back down, earning a glare in return.

“Really? We’ve been killing those ugly bastards for however fucking long its been since they started popping in. They’ve been trying to kill us, we’re justified in killing them.” He at least had the decency to whisper.

As fair a point as that was, them having stumbled into what was obviously a settlement of some sort meant the Vonneguts were the intelligent aliens Gordon had been contemplating just a little while ago. Which came with it the other question; could they be reasoned with? How did he convey he intended to try?

“This is a town, Bubby.” Coomer didn’t lower his voice, he seemed incapable of it at times.A charming trait right up until it wasn’t anymore. Such as right now. “They might be civilians and thus not to be killed unless they prove to be hostile too.”

“That’s fucking stupid but fine, whatever. Go try to talk to them then, not-Gordon. See how well it goes. Just don’t get mad when I laugh while your ass gets electrocuted.”

“If uh, it does go poorly, he’ll just come back so probably it’s worth a try,” Tommy said. “They might be friendly. It’d be pretty cool if they were.”

Gordon gave him and Coomer thumbs up of approval before turning and marching out of the alley. Bubby mumbled something that was probably an insult or perhaps another complaint but Gordon was walking away fast enough that he didn’t catch it.

Naturally the Vonneguts – where had the name come from? Perhaps a Kurt Vonnegut reference had been made about them before he’d joined the party, maybe it was even other-him who’d made it – noticed him long before any of them reached the center. They didn’t attack though, just kept going on their same trajectory even while turning to look at him every few seconds.

Upon reaching the ring, three of them started doing something with one the boxes attached via cable to the ring. The fourth however turned to face Gordon, apparently waiting for him to catch up.

Upon doing so, the two of them stood and studied each other in silence. Gordon had gone out of his way to look closely at a dead one a while ago and had found it fascinating. Alive though and moving, the eyes all focused on him and roving over his body, was something else entirely. It made his skin crawl. Likely that had to with all his prior encounters with these guys being violent. But this one showed no sign of following suit.

Instead it spoke to him, its words alien and impossible to understand but it was without a doubt spoken language. Wow! Cool!

It was the longest of long shots but Gordon lifted his hands to sign a, “Hello,” anyway. “I come in peace.” He was the alien here, right? Assuming this place with the Vonneguts’ home anyway. It might not be considering they had the ability to travel to Earth and thus could’ve come here the same way and be from somewhere else entirely. “Sort of. I need to kill the thing attacking my home.”

The Vonnegut looked at him for a moment before lifting it hands and flexing them, including the little one on its chest. Nothing that looked like an alien sign language, seemingly just an acknowledgment that Gordon spoke with his hands. It then said something short and guttural in its own language before pointing at him, the ring they stood next to, and then back towards the tower.

Gordon pointed at himself and then the tower. That is indeed where he intended to go.

The Vonnegut repeated its earlier gesture, putting more emphasis on the ring this time. It was a big enough to for a person to go through. … A portal? They definitely had teleportation technology so maybe. A portal that would take him to the tower or at least closer to it. That’d be real nice. Trusting the Vonneguts’ technology was a tall ask but if it was a trap to kill him, he’d just…

The air crackled, above and around them; a familiar sound. The Vonneguts scattered, fleeing towards the shelter of the buildings. Looking up, Gordon drew his crossbow. It was the floating guys, a whole group of them. His first bolt missed, the second didn’t, piercing through the face of them. It fell as he reloaded, turning to…

A familiar flash of pain jolted through him, making him stumble and fall, dropping the crossbow. Over him, the floating aliens fired their orbs at him, a barrage he couldn’t quite get away from. They sent more jolts through him as they hit and then… he was blinking open his eyes back in the alleyway.

“It’s mind control, Mr. … er, not-Mr.Freeman,” Tommy blurted. “The balloon guys were mind controlling the Vonneguts to attack you! Or um… that’s what it looked like from over here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bubby asked.

“I believe not-Gordon has died again,” Coomer replied. “Apparently to mind-controlled Vonneguts. And ooh, there’s some Vonneguts right there.” He pointed. It was the same group as before.

Bubby scowled but was thankfully distracted enough not to draw his gun this time. “Why the hell do you guys remember this stuff but I don’t?”

That was a very good question, the answer to which didn’t quite matter right now. The question of mind control did though. It had definitely been an alien lightening bolt that had hit him, throwing him off his balance. Which didn’t make sense since they’d been been acting friendly until that moment. So… mind control it was then? Despite having that much power, the way they’d run as soon as the balloon guys came was perhaps evidence of that control. He’d have to pay more attention to know for sure but for now, that was the theory he was going with.

“It means the Vonneguts are friendly, right?” Tommy said. “They’re being mind controlled to be mean. That’s awful! Poor things.”

“How do we know they’re all being controlled?” Bubby asked. “Maybe only some of them are while the rest try to kill us willingly. We don’t know jack-shit. I know even less because I don’t remember when this asshole apparently rewinds time every time he fucking dies.”

That was also a good point. Even if these Vonneguts had been mind controlled to ‘be mean’ that didn’t mean all of them were. Gordon had to get to the bottom of this no matter what.

He gestured for them to stay here while he turned and exited the alley. Enough time had passed for the Vonneguts to already be at the center. He jogged to catch up.

Their interaction was much the same except he didn’t try to sign anything to them, just going straight to pointing. The balloon guys came in at the same point in the conversation. Gordon was more ready for this though.

Already backing up for a better view of the battle, he took one of the balloon guys out, same as before but with the first bolt this time. Which freed him for a moment to pay more attention to the rest of them. Two of which shot out energy orbs of a different sort, much smaller but also much faster, making hitting the fleeing Vonneguts almost trivial. Said Vonneguts skidded to a halt before snapping around to face Gordon, already charging their beams. Gordon barely got out of the way in time to avoid getting hit. Mind control indeed.

Gunshots came from the alleyway his companions had been left in. Another balloon guy fell and then Gordon sniped one more. Up in the air with no cover, it wasn’t hard.

As soon as the final balloon guy fell to one of one of Gordon’s companions, the Vonneguts shuddered and stumbled. One even redirected its mostly charged beam into a wall instead of whoever its target had been before.

“We’re not killing these guys anymore then?” Bubby asked as he strode further forward, holding his gun up as if ready to use it.

Gordon jogged over to push the barrel down. He gave Bubby a firm head shake. No, they weren’t killing them anymore unless they absolutely had to or if any proved to be hostile even while not mind controlled.

“Damn it. Fine.”

“Yay, new friends,” Tommy said as the Vonneguts slowly started making their way back towards the center, presumably to resume whatever they’d been trying to do before being interrupted. Probably and hopefully getting that maybe-portal working.

Gordon turned to head that way himself, intending to watch from up close. Before he could take a more than a step in that direction…

“Yo, Gordon!”

Gordon snapped his attention to his left. It was Barney, his hand raised in greeting, standing in the entrance of the circular town. How had he gotten here? “If it even really is you this time. I never expected to run into you here of all places.” Next to him stood someone in an HEV suit. Gordon blinked as he took a step closer. It was… him? Or someone who just happened to look an awful lot like him. He was missing a hand though and thus probably, it was his alternate. Somehow his companions’ original Gordon had found them.

Coomer had noticed him too as he was already heading towards the two of them, raising a hand in greeting. “Hello, Gordon!”

~

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