#'117 hours' she reminds herself.

[sincerely-sofie]

Would Kip and his posse come across the ruins of a Human bunker during their expeditions? I imagine that it would both be incredible to find and also terrifying depending on how the humans inside died out.

It would be a major archaeological discovery— from the perspective of pokemon, humans were elusive beings that weren’t something you’d spot every day, but you could still catch a glimpse of them every now and then… until one day they realized that no one had seen a human in years. It’s a huge source of debate amongst pokemon scholars— what happened to the humans? Where did they go? Why?

After pivoting careers, Kip has, on multiple occasions, tried to pose the “theory” that humans aren’t extinct but are actually living in a network of underground bunkers, but didn’t have any materials to support his theory beyond the unfounded testimony of his old exploration team partner with no academic background. The second an empty human bunker is unearthed, the archaeological scene erupts into shock— and the fact that it seems like the humans inside died within the last 50 years ago is even more surprising.

Kip spearheads the documentation process after the initial discovery of the bunker, and he’s able to figure out the purposes of rooms that no one else can make sense of (thank you, Twig!)— he tells the archaeologist’s guild that he noticed this room has very high ceilings that are covered in metal pieces that would rain water down and glass cylinders that would light up to simulate sunlight— so this was a tree farm, and was likely used to provide food and purify air.

At one point, Twig would be stumped by his questions about the things that they find in the bunker. The remains that are uncovered raise more questions than answers. There’s too many femurs in one area for the number of skulls in the room. In more than one case, there’s marks on the bones that don’t make sense for the story they’ve been theorizing— the humans died out because their underground gardens failed and they starved to death. A recurring question amongst scholars is why the humans didn’t leave the bunker in search of food. No one is able to figure out why.

It eventually occurs to Twig that the network humans used to communicate across bunkers historically lost contact with Bunker 1801-D around this era, and that the second-to-last message the network received was a distress signal. A fungus in the greenhouses had spread faster than they could contain it. Their crops rotted and made the soil unusable. Their exit doors had failed a few years back and they couldn’t get out. They needed help. The last message to ever come from 1801-D ran for 117 hours before the other bunkers disconnected it from the network.

That last call— made by a crying, frantic soul who said he was the last member of the bunker, that there was nothing left, that he was hungry, that he didn’t want to die alone with the memory of what was done— was answered by every bunker in the network. It didn't matter that he only spoke French and couldn't understand the bunkers who spoke something else— people banded together to keep him company. Those who he couldn't understand sang to him. Sometimes he'd sing back. It became more and more rare as time went on, as did his responses to conversation, but the line didn't go truly silent until 112 hours after it was opened.

The network was silent across its entirety for five hours more afterward, an informal vigil for the poor man they couldn't give anything more than their voices as he was wasting away, before Bunker 1801-D was permanently disconnected from the network— the closest thing to a burial that they could give those who had died. That final call haunts humanity to the point that the phrase “waiting 117 hours” is a euphemism used to describe the way that one may feel responsible for a tragedy despite their inability to prevent it.

Twig takes a trip to pay Kip a visit outside the ruins as people mill about, recovering artifacts and discussing theories. She sees bones that had been picked clean instead of charred black. She relays the story of 1801-D to Kip.

The five hour vigil is resumed, for a few quiet, sorrowful minutes, years after it was made, and they wait 117 hours together.

[dailysabinasmuts]

Aria shudders as she idly caresses herself, admiring her voluptuous body in the mirror, all dressed up and ready to be fucked. She simply cannot wait for tonights date where she will finally recieve the hard dicking she deserves! Aria had even invited several boys just to be sure, after all, her friends were quite fond of poaching and ruining her dates. As if in cue, a wail of despair echoes from elsewhere within the building; and so it begins. Over the next half hour, a cacaphony of utterly depraved sexual noises reverberate throughout the OTV house. With every groan, Aria grows ever more concerned, surely she called over enough guys to drown the sluts in enough bodies so that some would get through...

As the number of voices silenced spirals up through the double digits, Aria's despair increases. She had hoped that with 117 guys coming to her house, at least one guy would have been able to avoid getting drained senseless by the sex demons that she lives with. But it seems that even that much flesh could not satiate the OTV whores, and so once again Aria will be having a dickless birthday. Two of those said whores patter by her door, chattering about the surprise orgy they just engaged in; it sounds like Kimi and Leslie had enjoyed themselves...

So it comes something as miracle when Aria hears a gentle, rhythmic tapping at her door, the signal she agreed upon! She wrenches open the door in a flash, hauling whoever it may be inside before any one else would have a chance to notice. By this point Aria was so horny that she worship even an ugly bastard with the smallest, smelliest, limpest cock as if it were perfection itself. So she is pleasantly surprised to discover that you are well, delightfully average in looks, and judging by the bulge in your pants, not lacking in vigor nor size. Breathlessly, Aria presses herself against you, reveling in the feeling of a man's body against hers, shamelessly humping you and rubbing herself against your chest. Her soft breasts spill out of her top as she kisses you, her tongue hungrily ravishing your mouth as she moans in ecstasy. She drinks in your heady scent, some primal part of her brain identifying you as unmarked by the stench of other women; its been so long since Aria fucked a virgin... So when your hands cup her toned ass she orgasms, so deprived of sexual gratification that even the barest touch is enough to cause her to peak.

The burning heat in Aria's crotch reminds her of where her true pleasure awaits and she eagerly spins about, pulling her skirt aside to reveal her juicy pussy. She groans desperately as she back against your loins, even as you fumble your rock-hard cock out of your pants. Aria grinds on you in frenzy, her hot cheeks sliding against you with such dizzying speed, you can't even tell if its in or not. She howls will lust, filthy words spilling from her lips as she loudly urges you on, pleading with you to fill her with your cum. In the face of such intense stimulation, its only natural that your load is quick to spend itself; as your cock is enveloped in frantically moving, warm, wet flesh you orgasm. Aria for her part greets this advent with shriek of triumphal joy, climaxing so hard she collapses onto the floor, twitching as her body rewards her for fulfilling its need to be bred.

Curiously, you notice that the house had gone silent following Aria's exultant screaming; then there are pounding footsteps on the stairs. The door is slammed open so hard its handle impales itself in the wall, as someone storms into the room and pins you to the wall, banging your head against it so hard your eyes blur. When your tears resolve you find yourself looking at a furious Poki, her hand slightly loosening around your neck as takes in the details of your situation. Jaime stalks into the room behind her, crouching by the insensate Aria, still spasming with the aftereffects of her colossal orgasm. Jaime lets out a cackle, dragging her hand across her friends ass as she joins Poki, smirking with unsuppressed mirth. It turns out you never did make it inside of Aria's pussy, the entire time your cock was simply rubbing against her sweaty ass and thighs. Poki snorts, well if Aria remains unspoiled... then all can be forgiven, and you are cute enough to serve as a fucktoy. She muses, you had shown remarkable skill in evading the girls, and you didnt seem to so maliciously, and oh, you're a cherry boy as well. Normally Poki would let Jaime or Jodi break those guys who dared to lay a hand on her beloved Aria, but such a fate seems a touch excessive for you...

"Celine dear, would you please put this poor boy's virginity out of its misery? Don't exhaust him too much though, I may want to clean the Aria off of him afterwards..."

Its going to be a long night

[lpmurphy]

Spring in Tchakova Park

Read on AO3

Master List

Chapter Playlist

Summary: Green was the color of the grass where he used to walk in Tchakova Park.

In which John meets a stranger in the park, Violet learns of the care and keeping of Spartans, and Cortana offers dating advice. (Complete 5/7/24)

Chapter Six: Gold Visor, Hazel Eyes

Violet clutched her mug in one hand, tapping at her pad with the other at her desk in her small office. Lorelei had sent over her findings regarding the colony of bacteria found in the damaged Karpos sample when she arrived at the labs that morning; a gammaproteobacteria strain she had seen what felt like a thousand times before in samples collected in marine rainforests.

She zoomed in on Lorelei’s handwritten notes, squinting as she attempted to determine if she was looking at an ‘m’ or a ‘rn’ in one of the collections of chicken-scratch Lorelei passed off as penmanship. She sighed, flicking the file to the side and sipping from her mug. Her first task of the morning had been setting up the coffee maker she had purchased for her office, unwilling to force down another vile cup from the mess. She was working on her third cup in as many hours since she arrived, yawning as she added yet another pod of creamer into the already lightly colored coffee.

She was certain she would need the constant stream of caffeine to get her through the day after the previous night. She had woken up with a dull headache from the wine, having finished the bottle after John left, her thoughts reeling from the moment they had shared on the couch. She had spent the night playing it over in her mind as she laid awake in bed, head spinning pleasantly, the ghost of his hand still on her face.

Violet had given  Sadie a long, stern talking to after closing the door. Sadie just stared up at her, ears twitching and tongue hanging out of her mouth as she stared up at her owner. She smacked a paw against her empty food dish when Violet had finished, sending the metal bowl clanging against the kitchen floor in demand for a second dinner. Violet’s search history as she laid in bed that night included topics such as ‘how to crate train dog’ and ‘dog kennels for sale near me’, the snoring pup earning several long, angry looks from Violet as the dog slept on her back, peacefully unaware of the massive cockblock she had been only a few hours earlier.

Violet checked her schedule as she sipped her coffee, determining if she had the time to squeeze in an extra long walk for the pup before John returned to her apartment that evening. Excitement fluttered in her chest at the thought of him returning to her place. Violet chastised herself for feeling like a teenager with a crush. You are thirty years old, damn it, she reminded herself, fucking act like it. But her head had spun since he had left her apartment, the same spin following her into the next morning as she walked Sadie, dressed for work, and still spun as she rode the train to FLEETCOM.

He had nearly kissed her. He might have if it hadn’t been for her dumb fucking dog. And she would have let him. She couldn’t help but feel ridiculous.  He was Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, after all. The poster boy of the UNSC. The best of them. A god amongst men, as Lorelei had put it. There was no reason that he should have an interest in her. But she hadn’t seen that in him. She just saw John as he sat on her couch with her, his hand on her face. The same John that had sent her a message shortly after she got up for Sadie’s walk to wish her a good morning and let her know that he was looking forward to seeing her. She couldn’t help but like that John.

She returned her attention to her pad, occupying her mind with clearing out her communications inbox. She read through a report from the biochemistry department regarding updates in their development of the pain management compound being tested with the venom of the carnivorous plant in The Jungle the horticulturists had named Audrey. She let out an annoyed sigh as she made note of their request for more venom samples from Audrey, wondering where she had left her pair of leather gloves that had been issued to her for interactions with the rather feisty carnifloria vorax. The beep of the PA system sounded, Violet half listening until a familiar call came through the speakers.

“Brokkr teams to your stations for mounting. Brokkr teams to your-.”

Her pad chimed as the call came through the PA system, John’s message confirming the sinking feeling in her stomach that had come with the announcement;

117: Have to cancel on dinner tonight. They’re sending us out. 

Violet Harris:  I heard. I understand- Any idea when you’ll be back?

117: Classified.

117: Sorry. I was looking forward to it. 

Violet Harris: Don’t be! We can do it when you’re back. :-) Just focus on coming home in one piece, okay? 

117: Always do, goose.

Violet Harris: Promise?

117: Promise.

117: I have to go. 

117: :-)

Violet Harris: Be safe, big guy. See you soon.

--

She didn’t hear from him after that. She didn’t hear from him for days.

Her work days passed by slowly in a stream of endless reports, lab visits, and trips to the greenhouses. Those trips filled her with a silent solace as she walked through rows of lush green, occupying her hands and mind inside pots of soil. Each PA call prinkled the hairs on the back of her neck, Violet straightening to listen to each with an intrigue she hadn’t demonstrated over the past two months. The call she hoped for didn’t come. She would deflate and return to her work, pushing aside the ache in her belly until the next call came and John came racing back into her mind. Frankly, she thought of little else. By the third day he was gone, she had bitten her nails down to the quick, the nail beds of her thumbs bloodied and scabbed from near constant picking as she worked at her desk.

The rain relented to the early summer heat and sunshine that warmed her cheeks during Sadie’s walks in the days. Violet threw herself into a state of manic productivity the first few nights, hoping that constant movement and the satisfaction of completed tasks would chase away that sick feeling that sat heavy inside of her. The first night, she finished the book she had meant to start several months prior. She read through the night, finding herself only more exhausted in the morning. The second night brought the next book in the series. She busied herself with unpacking the last few boxes from her move back, filling her time after Sadie’s walks with endless tasks to distract herself from the worry that had taken root in her, rotting in her belly as the days went on. 

She found herself thinking of him constantly. On the fourth night of his absence, she had gone out after work to the shopping center a few blocks from the park, out of tasks to complete in her home and legs aching from the extra time she had added to her runs. She had wandered through the few shops, perusing the collections of summer dresses that had been put out once the sunshine had returned. She was stopped in her tracks on the way home by the image of familiar green armor on a poster beside the restaurant she had picked up dinner from. Her shopping bags dangled loosely in her hand as she stared up at the recognizable gold visor that hid his brown-green eyes. Behind her, pedestrians continued to pass, talking and chatting happily behind her, their voices muffled. She continued to stare up at the poster, her dim sum dinner growing cold in the paper bag she held. It twisted something in her; worry and anxiety and concern. Not for Master Chief, but for the man within the armor. She knew the Spartan was damn well capable of completing the job, his lethality akin to mythology. But she stood there, staring up at the poster, allowing her thoughts to return to John. Wherever he was, she hoped he was safe and unharmed. 

On the fifth night, she sat on her balcony with her book on her lap. Sadie laid stretched out on a warm spot on the floor, the late evening sunshine warming her fur. The evenings grew lighter as the days went on, the sunset casting its pinky glow across the park below her. Musicians returned to the amphitheater as the weather turned, Violet listening to the folky sounds of an acoustic guitar playing covers of songs she liked. She turned the page, adjusting the jacket she had thrown over her legs in the chill of the shade. Sadie sighed, stretching on her side before falling asleep again. Violet’s eyes strayed on the page of the third book of the series she had started only days prior, unable to focus on the words on the page. She looked up, tucking her cheek against her fist as she peered down at the pond. The geese sat on the surface as shadowy shapes in the dusky light.

The geese slid across the water, their heads bowed as if whispering to one another. Violet felt a tug in her belly as she reached for where her pad rested on the side table beside her mug of tea. She typed out a quick message before she stood, wrapping John’s jacket around her shoulders against the cool evening breeze;

Violet Harris : Hope you’re being safe. I miss you. 

--

The morning of the seventh day came the same as the others. She woke with that same worry in her belly, rotting her from within as her concern for him grew. Violet had woken up too early for the first time in what felt like years, unable to will herself back to sleep. She decided to go for a run before Sadie woke up, the dog having no interest in waking before her usual 6am wake up call. Violet huffed out a laugh at the irony as she dressed herself, wandering out of her building to the paths of the still dark park. She turned up her music as loud as she could stand it, her playlist thumping in her head as her feet pounded against the pavement around the pond.

She ran until her muscles screamed for her to stop, gasping for breath as she stopped by the pond. The sun had begun to poke over the horizon, casting an orange glow over all things around. Violet wiped sweat from her brow as she caught her breath, her eyes falling on the geese that glided over the pond, starting their day side by side. She wondered if John was watching the same sunrise.

Violet found that work brought her little comfort as well. Each beep of the PA system made her heart race, hoping for the call for Brokkr teams to report for dismounting. But, the call seemingly never came, Violet finding herself growing more and more irritated by each call. A message from Lorelei pulled her from her office to the labs to sign off on authorizations, Violet grateful for some sort of task. As she entered Lab 3, Lorelei didn’t bother to look up from her microscope. The redhead simply held her pad out to Violet with the authorization forms ready to be signed. 

“I’ve already filled them out,” she stated, adjusting the microscope when Violet took the pad, “I just need your signature.”

Violet scanned through the forms, double checking that everything was in order. She let out a relieved sign when she found that the forms had been typed out and not handwritten. She glided her finger across the bottom of the pad in her looping signature, setting in on the lab table beside Lorelei. The young woman didn’t so much as mutter out a thank you, Violet standing beside her. Violet recalled the fact the young woman had shared with her about her boyfriend’s assignment, doing her best to take on a casual disposition as she leaned against the counter.

“So,” she began. Lorelei didn’t look up, “You said your boyfriend works with the Spartans? I haven’t heard a lot of calls for teams this week. Any idea if any teams are out?”

Lorelei shrugged, eyes still fixed to the microscope,  “I think he mentioned that Silver Team is deployed. He changes their status on the duty board.” 

It wasn’t quite the tidbit of insider information Violet hoped for. She bit back a sigh, pushing herself off of the counter. Her schedule for the rest of the day was dismally empty, and she had no desire to return to a silent office. “I’m headed down to The Ponds,” she called as she left the lab, “If anyone comes looking for me, let them know.”

The Ponds sat inside of Greenhouse #1; two massive pools that resembled typical swimming pools until one came closer. Below the surface sat entire ecosystems of both freshwater and saltwater bodies. The greenhouse came in a partnership with the biology department, both pools containing species of aquatic life along with the plants that resided there. Violet assumed that The Ponds would be her best choice for the afternoon; her head underwater meant that she couldn’t hear the unending PA calls. 

She chose Pond A; The Sea. The pool was filled with ocean life, clown fish wiggling past her face as she swam, darting through the bubbles of her respirator. She could hear little but the rhythmic hum of the current simulators and the hiss of her breath through the respirator. The school of orange fish wove through the water in a tight group, disappearing into a bright pink anemone. Violet smiled around the mouthpiece, maneuvering around a blue tang as she kicked her flippers down, propelling herself down to the forest of giant macrocystis kelp anchored to the faux-ocean floor. She wove through the tall stalks, hands gently running against them as she checked for any signs of abnormalities. Fish swam in and out of the kelp, the narrow blades swaying in the current. She paused for a moment, watching the silent world pass around her. A thresher shark passed below her, gently bumping her legs, unminding of the humans that were constantly in her habitat as she went on in search of a snack.

The warning chime of her respirator sounded, alerting her that her oxygen supply was running critically low. Violet pushed off the sandy bottom of the pool, swimming upwards towards the surface illuminated with artificial UV light. She broke the surface with a gasp, spitting out the mouthpiece, salty water clinging to her lips. A few horticulturists worked beside the pool, looking behind them to where Violet treaded water towards the steps out of the pool. One knelt down beside the pool, reaching out a hand to Violet, “Good dive, Doctor Harris?”

Violet nodded, taking his hand and pushing herself up out of the poolside. She sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water as she removed her flippers, setting them beside her.

“Those are shallow water plants,” she pointed at the surface of the clear waters to a patch of green, “They are positioned outside of any direct sunlight. They need to move up roughly, oh I don’t know, eight feet?” 

The horticulturist nodded. Violet stood and peeled off her wet suit, removing her goggles, frowning as her fingers brushed against the indents in her skin left behind by them. She gave the stiff fabric a shake, sending a spray of water across the floor.  “Actually, scratch that. Run a full water pH panel. I want to rule out issues with alkalinity before we move anything. You can send the results to my office when you’re finished.” 

“Yes, Doctor.” 

“Thanks, Nathan,” she responded, giving her soaked hair a squeeze as she made her way to the showers. Above head, the PA system called out a message, Violet finding herself straightening up to listen. The call she hoped for didn’t come, disappointment fluttering in her belly again. 

“Hey, Nathan,” she called, the horticulturist pausing where he stood over a water sample collection kit. She pointed up towards the speaker over the workstations, “Were there any calls while I was under?” 

“No, ma’am. Nothing that pertained to us.”

The disappointment returned as she made off towards the showers.

--

John rolled his shoulders as Silver Team walked the familiar hall from Brokkr removal to the lift, still sore from days spent in the suit. They had arrived on Reach less than a half hour ago, all of them exhausted and sore from the deployment. The mission had been a bust; they had spent more time in slipspace than they had with boots on the ground, the mission taking all of a day once they confirmed that the Covenant had already left the planet. The team followed behind him, grumbling about the mission as they walked. 

“Bullshit is what it was,” Vannak stated, “All that time in slipspace and I didn’t get to kill shit. Waste of our damn time.”

“The least they could do is feed us before we have to debrief,” Riz tapped the call button of the lift, the doors dinging open. They stepped in, John stepping in after them and turning to face the door.

“It should be quick,” he reassured them.

He hoped the debrief would wrap up before she got off, John hoping to find Violet before she left for the evening. Her message had popped up on his HUD days prior, John reading over it at least a dozen times before asking Cortana to dismiss it. He wasn’t authorized to respond while deployed, but her words echoed through his mind as they hurled through space. I miss you. He had never been told that before. His absences were always greeted with debriefs and mission reports and directives on next orders. He missed her, too.

The lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open. His breath caught in his throat when he found Violet on the other side of the open door, her eyes glued to her pad. He felt that twist in his chest when she looked up from her pad, green eyes softening when she saw him, a soft sigh escaping her lips as if she had been holding her breath. A faint sunburn colored her cheeks, somehow revealing more freckles than he had thought possible, the faint lines of what looked like a pair of diving goggles ringing her face. Her face split into a grin, Violet’s steps quickening towards the open doors of the lift. He couldn’t help but feel the corners of his own mouth turn up at the sight of her. Her eyes widened as she got closer, noticing the rest of his team behind him. Her steps slowed, Violet straightening as she neared the lift. She stood at the doors, hugging her pad to her chest. “I can catch the next one,” she stated.

Kai spoke before he could, “Oh no, there’s room,” she said with a cheeky politeness that made his shoulders tense. “C’mon in.”

Violet nodded, mumbling out a thank you before stepping onto the lift, pressing the button for her floor. The doors slid shut, Violet turning her back to them so she faced the door. The lift fell silent, Violet’s eyes directly ahead, obviously unsure of what to do in the presence of his team. He looked down at her, her hair wet and pulled back tightly. She smelled like saltwater. He wanted to touch her, to hear her laugh and see those green eyes. He could feel their eyes on his back in the tense silence, resisting the urge to run his fingers down her spine and assure himself that she wasn’t just a figment of his exhaustion.

He relented to himself, pressing a hand to her back and Violet’s head twisted up to look at him, her eyes darting back at where Riz, Kai, and Vannak stood watching before returning to him, “Still on for tonight?” 

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” she murmured, watching him with those green eyes that he had thought of since departing Reach. “You just got back. You’re not too tired?” 

“No,” he whispered back, brushing his thumb against her back, desperate to feel her under his touch again. “I want to see you. It might be late. We’re headed up to debrief.”

She smiled up at him with that smile, nodding. “That’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

The doors slipped open, the speaker system announcing their arrival on her floor. Down the hall, a lab tech looked up from his pad, eyes locking on Violet as he approached the lift, “Doctor Harris?”

Violet pulled her eyes away from John at the mention of her name, the lab tech’s eyes widening as he approached the lift, finding his boss surrounded by four Spartans that watched her curiously. The lab tech cleared his throat, nodding to the four of them before turning back to Violet, holding out his pad, “The results of the pH culture you ordered from the saltwater tanks have come back with abnormalities, ma’am.”

“Oh yeah? Is there something fishy going on?”

She watched the lab tech with an expectant grin. John couldn’t help but roll his eyes as a laugh bubbled in his chest that he swallowed down. The lab tech stared back at her blankly, still holding out his pad to her.

“Should I send the results to your pad then?”

She sighed. “Yes.” She rolled her eyes and glanced up at John, tapping at her pad as the results popped up on her screen. 

“C’mon, that was fucking funny,” she mumbled to him. He chuckled as she stepped off the lift, following the lab tech down the hall. She glanced over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner, mouthing her goodbye and giving him a final soft smile. He had hoped that the smile he returned had been small enough, but the deafening silence that followed as the doors slid shut proved otherwise.

He straightened back up, feeling the eyes of his team on his back as the lift began to move again. The soft mechanical hum was the only noise that filled the small space. Behind him, someone shifted. Riz attempted to muffle a huff of laughter with a cough, Kai and Vannak sharing pointed looks with one another. John felt the back of his neck grow hot. Riz cleared her throat, stifling another laugh as Kai bumped her shoulder against hers. John sighed, closing his eyes.

“So,” Riz began, her tone even, “Is this one going to try to kill us, too? Or was that just specific to the last girlfriend?”

Kai and Vannak snorted out laughs at her question, John glaring at them all over his shoulder. “Not another word,” he growled.

“So, they get to meet her and I don’t? This is so unfair.”

“Shut up.”

The three settled with a series of hissed chuckles, the elevator falling silent again. John straightened, busying himself with watching the floor numbers illuminate as the lift climbed upwards. Behind him, Vannak chuckled, the low sound growing into a thunder of laughter.

“What?” he snarled, Vannak’s laughter continuing to grow. 

“Nothing, Chief,” Vannak grinned at him, “Just thought you were into blondes.”

[skylarstark4826]

Some time ago in Shuri’s lab, Wakanda.

“Status of Trial 117: Data analysis phase initiated. Estimated time to completion: two hours, twenty-three minutes,” Griot announces.

Finally at a lull in her experiments for the day, Shuri leans on one of her workstations, her gaze falling idly onto the seashell mounted on a display table across the room. Though still functional as a communication device, the conch now serves as a ceremonial symbol of Talokan's support should Wakanda ever call for aid, and Wakanda’s alliance with Talokan.

However, it only reminds Shuri of the embers of resentment and anger still quietly burning in her for the death of her mother, the deaths of both her people and the Talokanil; all the pain and conflict that ensued from that first meeting with Namor.

It’s the same one he carried when he first arrived on Wakanda’s riverbanks.

When she feels those embers rekindling, she struggles to reconcile being in love with someone who wounded her heart so deeply. It takes retreading each reason why they chose peace instead of vengeance to remember how he became the one to help her heart heal. Part of it was time spent together connecting through a love for their people, and part of it the knowledge of a brokenness only the two of them would ever understand.

“Good afternoon, itzia. I hope I’m not interrupting your work.”

Shuri’s brow unfurrows abruptly at the sound of Namor’s voice, drawing her attention to its source. He’s dressed in a more formal cloak and adornments for his routine diplomatic visit to the Golden City. Bast, she’d nearly forgotten about it in her rush to the lab this morning. He’d visited her last night as well, in her bedroom, and neither of them gave much regard to clothes, sleep, or needs of their schedules for official duties the following day.

“No, not at all.” She offers a polite smile in greeting, still a little lost in the storm of her earlier thoughts. A brighter memory peeks through the dark clouds as she walks over to the display in an attempt to shake them loose. Shuri lifts the opening of the large conch to one side of her head, covering an ear. “When I was a child, my mother told me that if I put a shell like this to my ear, I would hear the ocean. The sound would be like I was at the beach, listening to the roar of the waves breaking on shore.” A small smile spread across her face. “I learned later that the roaring was ambient noise from the environment around me, vibrating against the surface and amplified by the shape of the shell’s interior. Some mistakenly believe the roaring is blood flowing through your body.” Shuri looks up at Namor, then, with a childlike curiosity. “You shared with me before that one of your abilities is enhanced hearing.” She lowers the shell away and holds it out for Namor to take. “So, tell me. What do you hear?”

A couple of weeks later, following a late afternoon council meeting. 

The throne room empties quickly after M’Baku dismisses the council, everyone eager to have dinner. All of Shuri’s favorites are on the menu tonight, but her appetite just isn’t there. Really, she hasn’t had much of an appetite in some time, but she can blame that on her newfound strength: so much has changed about her body now, so why worry about small things like that? Instead of following the group to the dining hall, she lingers briefly in the empty room before detouring to a private chamber her father had occasionally used as an office.

Photos of her and her family at various private and public events decorate the wall to one side of the desk, trickling down to litter the top of a small cabinet butting against it. Her eyes rove across the still memories, resting periodically on the faces of her late father, mother, and brother and herself, all smiling. There are no solo portraits in this collection.

I was never alone, she reassures herself. And I am not alone, even now.

Her heart warms at the thought of little T’Challa’s photos one day joining the gallery. The day she met her nephew, she had no idea how much more brightly love would burn for both her brother and the little, cheerful, sweet-smiled part of him he brought into the world. It extinguished all the rage and loneliness and fear that those fires would never go out. For a brief moment, she even wonders what that love would feel like, should she ever have a child of her own.

Griot’s voice pings into her reverie. “Princess, I have the results of the blood test you ordered.”

Blood test? Shuri frowns, then remembers: she had not had her cycle since the month after she had ingested the synthetic heart-shaped herb, and she had done a sample this morning, concerned with what the side effects might mean in the long term. She must have forgotten about it. That is not like her. Shuri shakes her head. “Yes, sorry, Griot. What are the results?”

“There are no vitamin deficiencies, and your white blood cell count is normal. I can detect slightly elevated levels of cortisol, and additionally, a very healthy level of human chorionic gonadotropin.” 

Shuri blinks. She blinks again. Then, she breathes.

Some time later, on an empty shore of Haiti. 

The sun breaks the horizon, painting the sky and clouds in warm hues. Soft pinks blanket the blue sky in lavender, giving way to bright oranges and yellows the further the sun creeps up in its morning path. Shuri stands on the shore dressed in a cropped orange halter swim top, low-waisted black calf-length leggings, and a short off-white sarong tied around her waist. She looks out to the ocean, patiently waiting for the familiar shape of her companion to break the surface.

He doesn’t keep her waiting long. When he arrives, seashell in hand, the shoreline is bathed in gold.

Namor tosses the conch into the sand. He wades up the beach before greeting her with a full, firm kiss, hands wandering over her exposed midriff when he grasps her waist to pull her close.

When they finally break the kiss, Shuri takes a moment to regain her breath. Her gaze is soft as she looks at the sunlight breaking through the dark of Namor’s irises, exposing the warmth beneath.

She smiles as she slides her hand from behind his neck to cup his jawline, gently tracing his lips with the pad of her thumb. Shuri gestures to a fallen coconut tree next to them. Namor sits on the trunk as she remains standing close to his side, gently guiding his ear toward her abdomen and cradling the back of his head with one hand. His cold, wet hair tickles her exposed stomach, but his skin is so warm.

“I want you to listen to something, and tell me what you hear.”

Namor holds her close, one hand bracing the back of her thigh, his other hand resting above her hip. He slides off the trunk to kneel in the sand between her feet as if the new position would help him hear any better.

Shuri can’t see his expression, but she feels his quiet wonder, the departure of the old world with every exhale, the dawning of a new one in every rising of his chest and shoulders as he breathes in.

He tightens his embrace ever so slightly. Shuri is uncertain of what he’ll say, but hopeful.

“In itzia. I think…”

The fluttering heartbeat beneath Namor’s ear echoes his joy.

“…This is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.”

/end

[sweetestpopcorn]

Hi, Sweets

I was having intrusive thoughts lately and in one of these I just come to concluded that in canon Criston Cole probably looked to the Velaryon boys and keep imagining them as his sons… look I know it is strange but we all know that he was a “little” obsessed with Rhaenyra,plus the fact that the boys looked very andal, almost like him… with differences of course (the nose especially).

Imagine the boys just went to visit grandfather and innocently pass through him and he is just looking at them very fiercely

Criston: *Only if my Rhaenyra weren’t a wh*re(we know he would slut shame her even in his head), they would have been mine.

Joff: *whispering to Luke* Why is this guy looking at us like this??

Luke: * Giving his shoulders* who knows?

Jace who was walking behind them: Let’s just get to grandpa more quickly *put his hands on their shoulders* Bye, ser Criston👋

Criston looking inexpressive: * Obly if … other ridiculous thoughts about rhaenyra* *proceeds to ignore jace salute *

Hi there! 😊 I hope you are well 🤗

Hum... the "Velaryon" princes looked like Harwin. We are told this even more than we are told Daemon wanted a son (which is saying something). They had more "common" faces, brown eyes, and brown hair as well as a pug nose.

At no point are Harwin's looks ever compared to Criston's. While Criston (apart from the black hair) did seem to have more of the Andal look (handsome and all with light green eyes - No, everyone, he was not Dornish :) thank you and goodnight), the Strongs descended from the First Men as far as I recall. Bit like the Notherners. I think they were quite an old house too so I would say they had more of a "First Men" look than the Andal look. I tend to think more of the Lannisters as a good example of the "Andal" look, which was nothing like the "Velaryon" princes were described as.

Looking at them Criston would only see what the rest of people did, that their father very clearly was Harwin Strong. Which would absolutely annoy him of course XD and would definitely warrant many hours of *grinding teeth* "I can't believe she gave herself to that BRUTE 😤!" But at no point do I think he could have pretended they "could" be his. Actually he couldn't pretend this with any of Rhaenyra's kids since the "Velaryon" princes looked exactly like Harwin Strong, and Aegon and Viserys were all Targaryen. Those five boys were just the constant reminder of who Rhaenyra had gone to bed with. Spoiler: Not with him.

Now the real question is: Whose kids would piss him off more, Harwin's or Daemon's?

117 AC

Criston:

122 AC

Criston:

[elentiyawhitethorn]

117 rowaelin

Perfect

117. “Can I do your hair?”

CW: language

Fluff//725 words

“Can I do your hair?”

Rowan turned his head to his girlfriend, a crease already forming on his forehead. “Excuse me?”

Aelin leaned in eagerly. “Please. It’s so pretty.”

A scoff left Rowan’s mouth. “No. Absolutely not.”

Aelin widened her eyes. “Please,” she whispered, her voice the most heartbroken sound he’d ever heard. Rowan knew it was all an act, but he couldn’t break eye contact with Aelin’s puppy-dog eyes, impossibly wide and watery.

“For fuck’s sake,” Rowan muttered. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Aelin perked up slightly as she saw him thawing.

“Fine,” he muttered as her lower lip started to tremble.

Aelin flashed a full-on grin, making it even clearer that she’d been faking, but Rowan never could stand to say no to her. She squealed and ran from the room, returning quickly with a hair brush and several hair bands on her wrist. Aelin got behind him and immediately started brushing his hair.

Rowan scowled and turned back to his laptop, trying to ignore his chipper girlfriend as she brushed through his silver, slightly-below-shoulder-length locks. He had a paper due next week and he was only just getting started.

Over the next half hour, Rowan got quite a bit done. He was so pleased with the good portion of his paper he’d written that he almost forgot Aelin was still behind him, doing gods knew what. Rowan had managed to tune out her cheerful humming, barely even feeling the tugs of his hair. Now that he was done, Rowan felt every tug and twist, and he frowned as he tried to picture what was going on on his head.

As if sensing his desire to get up, Aelin said, “Almost done.”

“Great,” he murmured. “Just great.”

Aelin just planted a kiss on the back of his neck in response, and despite himself, Rowan felt a smile pulling at his lips. He pretended to be tough but Aelin had melted his heart and they both knew it.

“Aaaaaand… that’s it. Perfect.” Aelin scooted out from behind him and got off the couch, getting in front of him to admire her work. Rowan felt the weight on his head, but he had no idea what it looked like, and from the size of Aelin’s smirk he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Before Rowan could object, Aelin whipped out her cell and took about a dozen photos at lightning speed. “Hey,” he protested, reaching for her phone.

She stepped out of reach, smiling to herself as she tapped away on the screen. Rowan groaned, knowing she’d have sent it to all of their friends by the time he could get her phone.

“Lys thinks you look adorable,” Aelin cooed.

Rowan stared her down. “I would kill you if I didn’t love you.”

“That’s what I was counting on.” Aelin winked.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Can I undo it now?”

“Undo it?” Aelin asked as if it was the strangest question in the world. “You haven’t even seen it yet.”

A sigh was all she got. Aelin smiled and grabbed his hand, dragging him down the hall toward the bathroom.

“Go look,” Aelin ordered. “I have to see what Lorcan thinks. He just replied.”

“Mala spare me,” Rowan muttered as he entered the bathroom, imagining their friends’ reactions. He got in front on the mirror… and gaped.

His hair was in some sort of ancient monarchy hair style. Or that’s what it reminded him of, at least. He wasn’t good at beauty things, but it looked like a mix between a crown of hair and a beehive, if that was even possible.

“Do you like it?” came Aelin’s voice from the doorway, apparently done conversing with their friends and spreading that image around the internet for the moment, instead choosing to harass him some more. She was good at time management.

Rowan shot her an incredulous glance. “What have you done to me?”

Aelin bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh. “I made you pretty.”

“Indeed you did,” Rowan said under his breath. “I look like a princess.”

“Exactly what I was going for!” Aelin exclaimed.

Rowan shook his head, but he gently grabbed her wrist and tugged her to him, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re perfect.”

Aelin smiled, leaning against his chest. “And you’re halfway decent.”

Rowan just pulled Aelin into a kiss.

[vhsrights]

117 Days

Pairing: Morcia

WC: 2.2k words

Summary: Morgan just got back from a dangerous case, leaving him and Penelope in need of each other. What better way to do that than to take one of their signature walks together? Alas, dates are an important thing and lead to more than on realization.

*based off of @morcias post about sunflowers and the sun for morcia :)*

----

Morgan felt like his mind was soaring as he walked down the path, highly aware of Penelope’s arm in his own. They had just gotten back from a case that Morgan had escaped from by the skin of his teeth. After that, the only thing he wanted was Penelope. He wanted to feel grounded, that he was still okay and still here. Having her by his side did just that. It was a feeling that couldn’t be put into words. Though, Morgan was sure that if he asked Spencer, the boy genius would have some obscure phrase for it.

Normally, the crisp air would bother him, but that day he welcomed the way it subtly burned in his lungs. Perhaps it was the adrenaline that was running through him. Morgan couldn’t put his finger on it. He didn’t know why he felt so intensely in the moment. His focus was split between the way that Penelope’s arms gently snaked through his own and the scenery around them. Morgan hoped that the near future would help him to connect the dots. His long, strolling stride guided the pair along the path.

Penelope let herself relax against Morgan. The nervous energy that had been teeming inside of her had slowly dissipated after their first hug that day. She had scurried over and jumped onto him as soon as she heard his knock against her lair’s door. The way that his arms and musky scent wrapped around her, Garcia’s worry subsided. She felt her heart beat a little faster, glowing under Morgan’s tight embrace. Here, with him, Penelope didn’t have to think about all of the darkness that they worked with. Rather, she could bask in the sunlight that her best friend emanated.

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

She had always thought of herself as an entity that grew and changed, shaped by the people and events that passed her by. Some took pieces of her that they never returned, others that replaced those pieces and more, and then there was Derek. He was the glue that she fit every piece into. He was the one that she could ground herself in when the moment felt too much, as if it could shatter her in any second.

That was why she had fallen in love with him. It was beyond the way that Derek looked, acted, and spoke. She fell in love with the way that he felt things, the way that he thought, and the way that he never failed to connect with her on a level there were no words for. She was positive that even the great Dr. Spencer Reid didn’t have a word for what she felt. In her mind, there weren’t enough in the world to do that feeling justice. Penelope opted for the one thing that could even come close to represent their bond. She had pulled back from their hug and spoke, reverence in her eyes.

“Do you want to go on a walk with me today?”

“Of course. Do you want me to pick the route today?”

Derek’s answer was almost immediate. Their walks were a thing of intimacy that both loved and needed when their jobs reminded them of the transience of life. At that point, Derek and Penelope had a system. It was a memorized system.

The light returned her eyes with a passion, rejuvenating her spirit. Penelope spun on her heel and rapidly crossed the room back to her desk. She pulled open the drawer that was tucked under the desk, producing a frilly cup that was filled with popsicle sticks. The smile on her face had widened once more as she tilted the cup towards Morgan. Each stick had a number that corresponded to a walking route that she had mapped out around the city.

Morgan let out a hopeful sigh, excited to see what adventure he would pick for them that day. To him, it wasn’t about the walk, rather who he was walking with. She could make walking through the Library of Congress seem like a tour of an amusement park. Pretending to inspect the group of sticks, Morgan pushed a couple around. He picked up one after a few seconds, examining it for a number.

“Today’s route is lucky number 9.” Derek chuckled and handed the stick back to Penelope.

Garcia’s eyes lit up at the mention of the odd number. That was her favorite route on the map by far, even if she wasn’t supposed to be picking favorites. They would be cutting through multiple parks and in front of Derek’s favorite bakery, Savanna’s. She could already tell that today was going to be an amazing day. The feeling was not one that she could describe, rather one that Garcia could tell in her heart.

“Perfect. Thank you, handsome. I’ll grab my stuff and then we can make our way out of here.”

Derek simply shined his charming smile at her and leaned back against her door. His eyes closed for the moment, the weight of his go bag and the case they had solved heavy against his shoulders. Penelope would make it okay. She always did.

She was the one whose words and strength got him through more than most people thought was humanly possible. People often complimented him on his resilience. Yet every time it was brought up, all Derek wanted to do was say that it was because of Penelope. She had shined her light on his heart, giving him the power that most people could barely fathom. Derek had just fallen in love with her along the way. She was the very pillar that he leaned on but had taken his heart in the process.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought because he felt her cool fingertips brush against his arm. Standing up fully once more, Morgan walked Penelope downstairs to their cars in the parking garage. They had parked side by side several days ago before he had left for the case. Watching Penelope close the door to her car made Derek’s heart clench. He didn’t want her to leave; not him, not alone, and not with the chance of not coming back.

Penelope would come back to him, safely. She always did.

Convincing himself of that simple fact, however, was a tall order. Taking in deep breaths, Derek began the drive home. He was always the one in the field and the line of fire. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about Penelope. Derek knew the world and its cruelty, as did Penelope, but he had vowed to himself that he would protect her from it as much as he could. Penelope Garcia was simply too good for this world.

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

They met up at Penelope’s apartment nearly an hour later. Derek was in a sleeveless hoodie and gray shorts. His sunglasses sat on his head and he grabbed them as he waited for her to open the door. Seconds later, it swung open on its hinges, revealing Penelope’s bright outfit. She was wearing a baby blue dress with a spread dinosaur pattern, layered with a light green cardigan that had sunflowers on it. A floppy, off-white sun hat sat on her head with its eccentric bow giving it style.

“You look beautiful as always, mama. Ready to go?” Derek stuck out his hand for the woman, guiding her out towards himself.

She locked the door and they went on their way. The air was brisk, and Penelope’s cheeks immediately had a slight pink tint. She explained the route to Derek in the beginning but soon after they fell into a comfortable silence. Their relationship had that kind of beauty, where the silent moments were just as important and beautiful as the ones that were filled with loving words and encouragement. Penelope let everything but thoughts of Derek Morgan melt away. She took in the nature around them, baffled by its beauty. She finally spoke when they were deep in the first park.

“Derek Morgan, you are quite the gentleman. Thank you for doing this with me. I know that we’ve been doing this for a long time, but every single walk seems like I’m going into a new world. I just, it’s scary knowing that you go out into the world to protect others. I never know if you’re going to be okay, and I don’t want to think about what would happen if you didn’t-”

Her words had been spurred by the realization of what could’ve happened in the last few days. She was beyond thankful that Derek was here by her side, as he should be. Her words were cut off when Derek stopped walking and his hand reached up to her face. He let his thumb gently caress her cheek while his hand cupped her face.

“Baby, I will always come back. No matter what, I’ll be there with you. You are my sunshine, my energy, and the one person who turns my world. I won’t let anything happen to either of us. It was how my parents raised me and how I intend on living. I’m not leaving you.”

Penelope felt her cheeks grow hot and knew that her tears were just barely within their floodgates. She took advantage of the lull in the conversation. Penelope turned her body fully towards Derek and buried her face in his chest. She hugged him hard, not trusting her words to convey what she felt. Derek immediately his own arms around her, cradling her head against himself to help calm her.

“Fran and Hank Morgan made sure that their son knew what love was, so when I see it, I know what to do. They were the ones that showed me how beautiful a relationship, and even friendship, work. So when you, beautiful, walked into my life, it clicked.”

At that moment, his eyes fell on a small cluster of sunflowers. They leaned towards the patches of sunlight that peaked through the canopies of trees around them. Perfect. Derek let Penelope come to her bearing, and eventually slowly pulled away. He smiled at her wider than he ever had before, turning away.

Derek had a little ritual for their walks. It started on their first walk when he had seen a radiant, violet flower in the distance. Breaking away from Penelope, he crossed over the pathways and plucked it. Wasting no time, he returned and presented it to her. The flower was beautiful, fresh, and everything that reminded him of Penelope. It grew with each walk, sometimes ending in him gathering small clusters of flowers for her. Penelope would take and cherish those flowers, holding them close for the rest of the walk. She had a small corner in her house for them, letting them stay as a reminder of Derek.

He knelt down and grabbed 2 sunflowers, examining them before walking back over to Garcia. Derek extended his arm to give her the flowers, but Penelope stayed frozen. His eyebrows furrowed and he stepped closer. The tears in her eyes were on the verge of falling.

“117.”

Derek’s head cocked to the side. 117? Had he forgotten something important?

“Did I forget something, Babygirl?”

“Uh- 117 days. I just remembered. That was how many days your dad gave flowers to your mom before he proposed. You told me the story a month ago on your porch when we had that Italian takeout.”

“Oh.”

“Never, never mind. I just remembered it randomly.” Penelope tried to backtrack.

“No, you’re right. My dad was quite the romantic, and if I’ve learned anything from him, it’s that you never give up on the people you love. So with that, I guess this is only fitting.”

Derek took one final step to close the gap between him and Penelope. He had one shot at this, and his heart was pounding. The world around them had long disappeared, nothing in their sights but each other. Derek let his hand rest against Garcia’s face, searching for something in her eyes. He pulled her in and let his lips touch hers. It was slow, neither one fully aware of what was going on. Finally, Penelope pulled back.

She looked into his eyes, finding exactly what she was looking for. Genuine love and adoration. It made her heart flutter. She leaned back in to kiss him again, this time more alert. His lips were soft and she lost herself in him. Derek’s hand moved to rest under her chin, tilting her head up to reach him. Penelope was perfect, and here, kissing her, made him never want to move again.

They separated and both could have sworn that world had gotten brighter around them. Realizing that he was still holding the flowers, Derek raised them up to present them to Garcia.

“For you, m’lady. In honor of my parents’ and our 117 days, and the rest of our future ahead of us.”

Garcia giggled and took the sunflowers.

“You are so cheesy, but that’s what I love about you. I’m glad we went on a walk today.”

“Me too.”

taglist: @jelle-jareau @altsvu @hotchshoney @jay-writes-jemily @ssakayprentish69 @nocreditinthestraightworld @ssa-jareaus @alexandrablake @coramvobis @temily @scandinavian-punk 

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #117

UPDATE 117: No Help for Anybody

Last time Francis had a feeling they had been transported into another world altogether, thanks to the Simurgh causing havoc and what not. It was shown she has the capacity of making portals, after all! Now let’s continue.

The two-or-maybe-three-if-Cody-is-Ballistic Travelers are exploring the neighborhood, trying to find help for those who need medical attention. There are monsters prowling around, and there’s a lot of noise out there that hint things are looking mighty bad. If they go in the wrong direction, I really don’t think they’ll be okay. They have no powers for the time being, after all.

During their walk, they hear something that sounded like a scream. Marissa immediately suggests they should go help whoever screamed, while Cody argued that’d be putting themselves in danger and therefore should ignore the scream. Francis, being the tie-breaker, decides to go help whoever screamed – not because he’s feeling particularly charitable, but because there’s a small chance whoever is in need of help has medical knowledge they can take advantage of. Good reason as any to go help someone, really!

Without waiting for Cody to argue this further, Francis starts running in direction of where the scream came from.

Turns out the screaming came from a fast food restaurant that has been boarded up. Inside there are a few people, trying to be safe from the monsters roaming outside, but they weren’t successful. One of the people is currently trapped by one of the monsters. Say...

The monsters included a man with a neck three times the usual length and a gnarled hump on his back that was plated in armor.   His arms split in two at the elbow, with one set of hands and one set of limbs that ended in built-in scythes.  He was perched on a table, cackling.  His jacket was clearly borrowed, ill-fitting around his hump, and he kept having to push the sleeves up so they wouldn’t cover his hands or weapons.

His partner held their victim, the ninth person in the room.  She was big, maybe seven feet tall, and heavy in a way that met some middle ground between being muscular and being fat.  Big boned might have been the most apt way to describe her, in a literal sense.  Her skin was thick, her features blunt: she had a porcine nose and cauliflower ears, her fingers were stubby and her lips so fat that they curled away from her comparatively tiny teeth.  She might have weighed four hundred pounds, and the way she was easily holding her victim in the air suggested she was strong enough to kill someone with one good punch.  She wore only a set of grays that looked like a prisoner uniform.  He could make out the first half of the word that was printed across her shoulders: GWER-.

Rounding out the group was a young woman.  Something was off about her, besides the obvious physical changes.  Thick black horizontal lines striped her body, crossing her eyes like a blindfold, extending from the corners of her mouth, lining her chin and tracing down her neck.  By the time they reached her fingers, her skin was more black than white. She wore the same prison grays, but had donned a jacket and boots.  Her blond hair was straight, her bangs cut severely across her forehead.

I’m sorry for copypasting everything, but I wanted to get the descriptions here. It’s weird...they’re not as...inhuman as I expected when it was mentioned they were monsters. Frankly, they don’t sound too dissimilar to how some parahumans look like, especially those that suffer strong mutations. I also notice they have some sort of clothing, hm...

Could it be these monsters were brought from another world with parahumans? That the Simurgh targeted a parahuman prison, and brought its inhabitants here? I mean, it’s not too farfetched. Parahumans can look real strange, like Crawler. Compared to him, these aren’t too bad.

It seems like one of these three isn’t entirely on board with the ‘tormenting civilians’ thing. Matryoshka, she’s called. The other two push a civilian towards her, expecting her to do something. Most likely use her power, with effects currently unknown to the Travelers and to me.

Looks like Matryoshka can...fold people into herself? Perhaps as a manner of storage, or to take something from them? Sure would fit her name. It’s temporary, though, at most a couple hours, and these three intend to use her powers to escape the quarantine. They’re as good as dead, there’s no way they’ll be captured and sent to the Birdcage. Given how they arrived into this world, they’re going to be executed.

Now that I think about it, the Travelers are real lucky they’re alive in the present How exactly did they manage to escape the quarantine? They don’t even have powers right now, they’re just civilians! Even harder to escape! Maybe they found a guard who sympathizes with them, someone who wasn’t aware they’re incredibly dangerous or didn’t have the willpower not to help them. Hm.

Since there’s a chance one of the people Matryoshka is about to fold may have medical knowledge to save Noelle and Luke, Francis jumps forth, going right ahead and stabbing one of the monsters-or-most-likely-parahumans. Good thing he carried a long weapon! Lets him keep his distance. He does rather well, for someone who would be pretty doomed in any other situation. The guy with the scythes is defeated, Matryoshka is targeted next.

No, Krouse made himself stop, took an account of what he was doing.  He was getting carried away.  He turned to run.

That reminds me, what is everyone else in this place doing? Are Mars and Cody hiding and letting Francis put himself in danger? I mean, that’s kind of the right thing to do – putting yourself in deadly danger is not smart – but I admit by now I expected someone to have intervened and tried to take Francis away.

The guy with the hump says Francis is brave and stupid – guilty as charged, really – and apparently decide to take him along? They’re talking a language I’m not sure if it’s invented or if it exists. Putting it into Google Translator gives me Gaelic, but it doesn’t give me a translation anyway. I guess that means it’s gibberish Mr. Wildbow made up?

Turns out Matroyshka does kind of absorb things from the people she folds! No indication if she decides what she takes or not. Either way, the monsters pin Francis down, and due to the stress of having the Simurgh’s weird-ass singing and having a scythe on his face, he kind of lets himself be taken by the song, and starts to reminisce.

“Noelle,” he mumbled.

“Francis?”

He winced.  “Call me Krouse.  Everyone but my mom does.”

“Krouse,” Noelle tried the word. “Okay.  You want something?”

“Just wanted to talk.  When we were marking each other’s papers in class, I got yours.  I just wanted to say I like the way you think.”

Sounds like this may be the first time Francis and Noelle met. So that may be how the Simurgh manipulates people’s emotions to make them lash out and react...she makes them remember specific moments. Alright!

This first meeting didn’t really go well. Noelle and Francis certainly didn’t hit off right away, she seems to have been kind of cold towards him when he compliments her way of thinking. Mars soon approaches, and she’s also cold. I mean, I can certainly imagine Francis is kind of grating because...he’s kind of a jerk, but part of me wonders if this memory was tampered somehow. Wouldn’t be out of the question when it’s about the Simurgh making remember stuff.

“So I know exactly what to watch out for with you,” Marissa said.  “At any given point in time, you’re pulling some nefarious prank, you’re manipulating others to get what you want, you’re making someone else look bad-”

Tampered or not, she’s saying the truth, haha!

This little flashback also shows how Francis got into the gaming group, she overhead them talking about it, and looks like Noelle got curious about if Francis played. Looks like Francis already knew Luke somewhat, too. Friends already? Regardless, the flashback is over when Mars screams, and not in the memory.

There’s Mars! Currently getting tossed around like a ragdoll. No sign of Cody. Maybe he died already. So, it seems it’s not Mars getting thrown around what made Francis fight again, it’s that they interrupted his reminiscing. Geez! And so he reacts like many people would like to react when someone wakes them up from a pleasant dream: displeased. And by displeased I mean holy crap, Francis, don’t stick your fingers into someone’s fresh wound.

He doesn’t hold himself back! He cuts the scythe guy’s throat. I’m blaming the Simurgh for this rather sudden burst of violence.

There’s Cody! Backed into a corner. Matryoshka doesn’t seem to be doing well, and the other monster is getting closer to Francis. Once he tells everyone to run and scatter, he runs too, and the monster keeps chasing him, without much trouble, until he has no option but to fight.

He stabbed at her hand with the knife, and felt a fierce agony tear through his own hand.

Blood welled out from his palm, warm as it ran down his arm to his elbow.  Krouse screamed.

No, he didn’t stab himself in his own hand while he was trying to fight back – although I’m sure that’d happen to a lot of people. What happens is that this woman’s parahuman power is to reflect back damage. Doesn’t make her impervious, it just reflects back. That’s going to be a pain to fight, no pun intended.

Or not! A pair of parahumans take care of this, and not lightly. They pretty much set her on fire, and it doesn’t seem like the damage reflection activated, or they had a way to counter it. Oh well. What matters is that that woman is now deceased, and Francis is in no danger anymore.

His immediate action is to ask for help for Noelle. He doesn’t get to ask for it before getting interrupted.

“That was reckless,” Myrddin said, speaking over Krouse.  “Attacking when we didn’t know the particulars of her power.”

I mean, when has Francis ever done something that’s a good idea against people with powers. Some things never change. One paragraph later, it turns out that was directed at the guy who set her on fire, not at Francis. Anyway! Brushing aside this embarrassing moment for me!

Francis keeps asking for help, they keep ignoring his words, instead notifying Dragon someone is in need of medical attention.

“Two hundred feet away, down your four o’clock, Armsmaster.”

Oh! This is Armsmaster! How neat. Here, let me amend what I said not long ago: “I mean, when has Armsmaster ever done something that’s a good idea at all”. Not thinking things through was his MO. He’s somewhat getting better at that now that Dragon is around.

“How are we for exposure?”

“You two are good for another seventeen minutes at the exposure you’re facing.  Twenty if we push it.  I can have a flight unit to you shortly.”

Aha, so it’s at least seventeen minutes before someone exposed to the Simurgh’s song is considered doomed and needs to be killed, I think. Well there’s absolutely no doubt to me by now Francis and pals have crossed the threshold already. It must have been around a couple hours. Funny how life can change that much in the matter of just a couple hours.

The fight against the Simurgh is going well, somehow, and they’re doubling down quarantine, most likely to ensure any parahumans brought by the portals don’t escape the perimeter. Dragon also notifies they’re taking some sort of measure, and the parahuman who is with Armsmaster – Myrddin, she’s called. I think I have heard that name before? – doesn’t like that measure, even asking Dragon to argue back. Dragon, in all her AI glory, states she’s just following orders.

I was about to ask if Armsmaster and Myrddin just ignoring Francis standing right there to a side, but then I reread and noticed Francis seems to have been turned into some kind of ghost. Trying to keep him hidden from the heroes, hm! Not that it’s a bad thing, Francis may be left for dead for all the exposure to the Simurgh. No wonder he wasn’t being listened to, he’s like...transparent now.

Among the rubble of the stuff that fell into this world, there’s a building that seems to have been part of a laboratory. Armsmaster wants to take a look and deduce from where all this came from, but Myrddin insists they have to get done with their task and get out. Minimize exposure, you know! And since the consequence of not doing that is, you know, death, I agree with her.

“I get bad interactions if I transition something in of one of my dimensions and back, or if I take things out of one dimension and put them into another.  It doesn’t compartmentalize into the dimension properly if it’s been elsewhere too recently.  Whether these people and objects came from somewhere halfway across the globe or some pocket dimension, I don’t think we want to test our luck and risk something disastrous.”

Krouse startled at that.  Is that what happened to me?  Some bad interaction of interdimensional crap?

Pretty unlikely. If Myrddin had used her power on him, I think she’d have said something, or Armsmaster would have noticed. Unless Francis means he being in this world in the first place, in which case, yeah, that’s what happened to you. Blame the flying Endbringer over there.

Is Armsmaster suggesting to use white phosphor for something? Because that’s not a good omen. My immediate thought is that he’s suggesting they use white phosphor to obliterate the perimeter. Needless to say, everyone and everything inside is toast if they do. I once read a book that had white phosphorus used, and the description of the effect was anything but pleasant. Better get out while you can, Francis, seems to me time’s running out.

Once Myrddin and Armsmaster leave, Francis is once again taken by his memories, this time of a less happy moment, when Noelle is unhappy and he doesn’t know why. She’s even saying the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine. They’re a pair, so this can’t be a breakup – a successful one, at least. The wording does hint she wants to get away from him, and that he has been a great person.

When she said she herself was why she wanted to break up, she meant it. Francis doesn’t have the slightest idea what she’s talking about, but judging by...

“Someone said, a little while ago,” Noelle spoke without looking at Krouse, “That I can’t really forge a good relationship with others until I have a good relationship with myself.”

...this, there’s something about herself she doesn’t like. Must be something rather big, if she can’t bring herself to have good relationship with others because of it.

Francis is being nice for once and is trying his best to be encouraging, telling her that she’s fantastic, but she insists they shouldn’t date. That opinion doesn’t change when Francis adds Noelle’s been happier ever since they started dating, and it’s not a platitude, Mars has said that too. But if Noelle says they should break up because this is bad for her, then he’s willing to accept it. Seriously, this has got to be the nicest Francis has been towards anyone in this entire story.

He even offers to leave the gaming team. She doesn’t want him to, and even tells him to forget she even mentioned this, conveniently leaving her thoughts a mystery to the reader. What could it be she’s feeling about herself that makes her dislike herself so much?

The memory ends, and Francis finds himself already rooting into the fallen laboratory, deciding to look around to see if there’s anything that could be of help, like a first aid kit. Well that’s going to be useful for Luke, but Noelle’s going to need something far better than that, if he finds any.

His eyes settled on a metal briefcase beneath the desk, within a few feet of the dead man’s hand.

His fingers crossed for a portable case of medical supplies, he set it down on the desk and popped it open.  Disappointment overwhelmed him.

Six metal canisters recessed in black foam with slots cut out to hold them, paperwork was set in a flap in the lid.

He swore.

…newly purchased superpowers…

...

...

...

...well seeing how Alexandria got better from a terminal disease after getting superpowers, I guess that counts as something far better. She got a much worse deal than Alexandria did, though. Everything in Worm has been a continuous source of grief for her. She’s not happy with Francis because of how she feels about herself, she gets concussions and internal bleeding, and when she gets to have some sort of superpower, she gets one that’s so bad she has to be locked in a vault out of fear she’s going to destroy everything. Worm treats Noelle rather cruelly.

Also, I absolutely love how Armsmaster almost may have been able to stop the creation of an entire villain team if he had been allowed to check the laboratory. Thanks a lot, Myrddin, you are indirectly responsible for the creation of like five new villains. Stellar work. At least Armsmaster only created one!

Francis confirms these are certainly superpowers in a vial – courtesy of Cauldron, no doubt. Does Cauldron know the Travelers gained their powers from their serums? I imagine they may know, surely they must keep a record of what powers get sold.

Taking the metal case with him, Francis decides to return back to the rest of his friends and also Cody, unwittingly kickstarting some rather unfun days for them all except whoever won’t be part of the Travelers. Fun how a series of coincidences led to that. Seriously, so much happened because Francis was in the right place at the right time.

I’m still unsure what happened with Francis turning all intangible and invisible earlier, though. Was it really Myrddin, accidentally doing that? Or was it someone else? I don’t have it clear at all, I admit. If someone can send me a message about it I’d be real grateful.

Ending the update here!

Next time: next update

[abundantchewtoys]

Homestuck^2 re: Chapter 3 “How Are Your Feelings” p96-118

So, the next chapter appears to be about an attempted feelings jam.

I think it might be too early yet for the pursuing crew, so maybe we'll have a look at Karkat and Meenah?

Though if there's ever a way for the pursuing crew or Dirk's crew to meet up with the new teens, I'm fully expecting Vrissy to have a "mom?" moment re: Kanaya or Rosebot.

---

Page 96

OOoooh!! Okay, so I was wrong.

Hah, that does look like something Jake would do - build a fleet of wildy different space ships.

Plus, it's an emerald pirate ship... In pursuit of a great white whale- I mean shark. Hah!

So yeah... It's been three years since Rose and Kanaya were together. :/

I suspect the crew is made up out of Dave, Karkat, Jade (perhaps possessed) and Roxy. But that'd mean Jane had the run of Earth C for all this time, and Calliope is back there in a worsening political climate.

Hmmm... Maybe Roxy would have chosen to bring their partner along though. Even though Callie is upset by the presence of her other self. In any case, I wonder what they look like! Whether they're still a deadringer for Dave.

---

Page 97

Pfff, what an exhaust pipe. I love the visual pun.

---

Page 98

Woooww, this reminds me of Problem Sleuth / Midnight Crew visuals! So purple though. Whose room is this, Roxy's? (It might be closer to violet than purple.)

Ooh boy, Calliope's about to take over the narrative. So she hasn't let poor Jade out of her grasp, or at least not definitely.

---

Page 99

D'aaaaahh, she's a frickin devil now. PFfffffffff, this is Dave and Karkat's room! Glad to see Davekat's still canon.

I bet this might be a recurring occurence, Jade/Calliope coming in at the most impossible hours bearing ominous tidings.

Hihih, so she's taken over the command box only for now. I suppose it's a clever way to show she could still take over the narrative is she was so inclined.

---

Page 100

Dave is more upset with Karkat than Jade, pffff.

---

Page 101

Ooooh, new outfits! Wait, Calliope made herself a new outfit. :/ She's getting comfortable in that new body.

Karkat has a Time shirt for a pyjama, hahah. I'm pretty sure he fell on his sweater, which probably still bears the Cancer sign.

Cool to have a squinting version of Dave's sprite. Now all we still need is one with his eyes wide open, but this is a start.

I'd start wondering if Calliope's starting to be a bit lonely, reaching out to Karkat and Dave like this with her message. And yup, she does it all the time. Dave's blasé about it.

---

Page 102

Welp! Jade's doing the Possesion 180-degree turn of the head now.

Return of the gross, oil-slick coffee machine from the meteor, maybe? :P

---

Page 103

Oh cool, at first glance Roxy's appearance is that jarring. Maybe her coup is a little shorter than before, but not as short as she wore it during the Meat epilogues, near the end. Guess she might be working through some of the same things as Candy Roxy and understanding she doesn't have to go all non-binary if that isn't where her heart is up at in.

Also, cool shades! Though, of course, a Heart is a bit of a faux pas perhaps, giving who they're chasing. :P

So Jade at least spent the first part of the voyage more silent. But as her powers grow, she has more control over Jade's body. :/

Cool, Dave has Karkat's shirt as part of his jammies. Roxy just went with a full on hoodie. At least I think it's her jammies, she's reading at the kitchen table but it's probably still night.

---

Page 104

Pfff. Welp. Yes Roxy, mirroring what you think your ancestors were doing ends up looking dumber when you actually meet them in person.

---

Page 105

ooooh, okay, so her hair is back to mirroring Dave's coupe. Roxy's hair is a bird pass it on. I love the sprite art, also of the kitchen itself.

Cool to have a comparison is size between meteor and this ship. Though with even less to explore, I can see how things might have grown dull around here. Also confirmation of Roxy's pronoun change, still a thing.

And I have a feeling Dave and Kanaya are in for a feelings jam.

Blaperile has a point, maybe Calliope commands the attention of the narrative, but she commands the narrative itself, so she can make the story follow Dave instead, as he goes to find Kanaya.

---

Page 106

Cool, even the inside looks like a pirate ship. Jake's quite taken with matters of appearances, practicalities be damned! :P

I suppose alchemizing a spaceship and a sailing boat would result in still a viable means to cross the void, the physics behind alchemization would ensure it.

---

Page 107

That appears to be a different hairstyle or hood. ... Is she wearing a grieving gown?

Maybe she's contemplating how she's ended up here, having to deal with another clown coming between her and her loved ones. I wonder how much harm she's wishing to heap onto Dirk, I mean.

---

Page 108

Aww, that rose in her hood.

And yup, Dave has it pinned down: they keep finding themselves either literally or figuratively chasing through the void, with no idea what's coming. You know, remembering how Dave saw the meteor as his first real home, I get the idea he might be the most in his element here. But he knows it's not a healthy pastime.

---

Page 109

She's wearing a ribbon much like Rose used to wear.

What story could Rose have reserved for reading to grubs, and what are the odds Vrissy knows the story as well, having been raised by Rose?

---

Page 110

It is on point for both Kanaya to read too much into Rose's story, as well as Rose putting all that symbolism in it on purpose.

... Aww, she's really hurting. But through the hurt she's started to wonder, perhaps in an attempt to limit her pain, whether she isn't being manipulated into feeling like this. At this point, it could really be either.

---

Page 111

Wow. Okay, Dave's really opening up here to Kanaya. It was actually a relationship I didn't really see evolving due to both of their inherent awkwardness.

But that's Dave for you. If you find a place in his heart, he'll die before he lets you go into harm's way alone.

---

Page 113

Turntable gesture! And okay, yes, via Dave it's shown Roxy's back to identifying male after the past few years.

Yes, his and Karkat shit has definitely changed, for one, Karkat almost unabashedly acknowledges they're matesprits back there in the kitchen.

And it's Kanaya who does the title drop after all, not Dave like I was starting to think.

---

Page 114

Awww, yeah, Dave is really the only one left of the old B1 crew in a normal state of mind. Here's to hoping his brush with Davebot doesn't leave him in a state like Callie.

And yes, Dirk has shown his true colours, and Dave is feeling like a runt for ever thinking he could be different from his Bro. :/ Poor guy, I feel for him.

Meanwhile, he innocently hopes that Dirk's influence was the only thing causing Jane and Jake not being good leaders for Earth. Too bad we know the alternative is far from good.

Though he's also oversimplifying, since he himself said that Earth C society wasn't sustainable in the long run, they just sped things up.

Aww, he admits to feeling more in his element out here. Yeah, I very much understand that. It's easier to deal with fewer people in your social circles, a lot of the time.

---

Page 116

Ah, the other side of the coin. Dave and Kanaya are bonding over Rose. Karkat and Roxy are kind of related as well through Dave.

Oooooh, so Calliope DID come along. Brave of her, with how "Jade" unnerves her so.

Karkat's right, the people that left weren't really so close to him as to others, he mostly here to support Dave! But of course we know he really would be good at leading at least a rebellion. Though it wouldn't really feel fulfilling either.

I wonder what's in store for Karkat, in fact, if it isn't to be a leader.

"KARKAT: I LITERALLY FOUGHT PEOPLE FOR CONTROL OF THE TEAM, AND WHAT ENDED UP HAPPENING WAS LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE ONE OF MY FRIENDS BESIDES KANAYA DIED. KARKAT: ACTUALLY, SHE DID DIE! KARKAT: FUCK! KARKAT: I’M ZERO FOR ZERO! ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO."

Best interaction. Is Roxy really going to help Karkat deal with something here? :P

---

Page 117

Hah! Yes, well, I guess Karkat already has his win state the way he wants it! Though he's still feeling conflicted about it on some level, but that's just the type of person he is.

Roxy's REALLY gunning to make pancakes, hahah. Guess a part of her really is good at the whole caring thing.

---

I definitely like the pacing of the chapters so far. Good combo of visuals and conversation.

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 117: The Tower

"Wait...so you were looking for this golden flower, which can trap someone in a place, and encountered a princess in a tower with long hair?" Emma asked, as they ate, while Killian explained how Alice came to be. It was pretty obvious to all of them that Hook had definitely changed, though it wasn't too surprising. Parenthood was the one thing that could create such drastic change in a person. It was one of the few things that could become more important than anything, even revenge.

"Aye...why is that amusing?" he asked.

"It's just...was her name Rapunzel?" Emma asked. He looked surprised.

"Yes...or at least that's what she told me. How did you know that name?" he asked.

"Rapunzel...it's a pretty well known fairy tale," she replied.

"Ah that...well, somehow I doubt they got this one right either, because the next morning, Rapunzel was no more. In her place was a witch named Gothel and my child in her arms," he explained.

"That's quite an acceleration in pregnancy, but I guess we all know that magic can do just about anything," Persephone mentioned.

"Gothel is dangerous...I'm not sure I like the idea that she might come here after you. We have enough trouble with Queen Ravenna and her vendetta against our daughter," Hades said sternly.

"Papa Hades...we can't turn him away, especially if his child is in danger," Snow chided. He sighed.

"And I don't intend to, snowdrop...but Gothel is powerful and she hates humanity," Hades said.

"Wait...are you saying she isn't human?" David asked.

"She appears human, but she is really a part of a dead race of tree nymphs that were the first children of Mother Earth herself, Gaia," Persephone replied.

"Gaia was once benevolent and they lived in peace, secretly concealed away from an early race of humans. But she became very dissatisfied with humans and their mistreatment of the Earth. She and her eldest daughter, Gothel, grew very angry and bitter," he explained, as he paused for a beat.

She wanted them to pay, so with her husband Uranus...the Titans were born. But while the Titans raged against humans and nearly drove them to extinction, the Earth suffered their wrath as well. So when Uranus refused to stop his onslaught upon the Earth, Gaia implored her son Cronus to slay his father, which he did. In the process, Cronus and Rhea gave birth to the Olympians. I was their oldest son," Hades stated.

"Then you much of the rest of the story," Persephone added. He nodded.

"Yes...Zeus killed Cronus with Rhea's help to preserve humanity, but in the process, this world was stripped of its magic, thanks to Gothel. She fought us and nearly even toppled Zeus for control of Olympus. But he banished her to another realm. Before she was swept away, she cursed this land and took the magic with her," Hades explained. Realization dawned in Snow's eyes.

"That's why this land became the Land Without Magic," she said, putting it together. He nodded.

"Yes...exactly. Once Gothel was gone...Gaia was distraught and faded into the wind to become apart of the earth she once loved. The Olympians sealed the Titans away in Tartarus. Zeus was awarded control of the skies, Poseidon the seas, and me the Underworld," he continued.

"And now that the realms are United...this Mother Gothel is back?" David asked.

"My suspicion is that she resides in that magical forest that we don't know much about, as confirmed by the Captain," Persephone answered.

"I guess I did not realize the threat she was or that she could be that powerful. I had no idea she was descended from Mother Earth herself," Killian said.

"It's okay...we will not turn you and your daughter away from a better life. If Gothel is here, then it would not have mattered if you came here or not. In fact, it's better that we know of her now than let her lurk in the shadows and catch us by surprise," Persephone assured.

"I just can't believe she had a child for the soul purpose of getting free and just abandoned her," Snow said, as she cuddled her baby daughter close.

"Unfortunately...Gothel has no humanity. But if she comes here...she will meet an opposition unlike what she has faced in the past," Hades said, as he looked at Persephone.

"He's right...and I won't just banish her like Zeus did. That was the answer to problems he couldn't defeat or destroy," she added, as they watched Alice playing with Alexander nearby, while Tallie, Gideon, and Iris sat with their respective mothers.

"We wouldn't have known Gothel was free if not for you, Killian...so we owe you that. We can now make sure she doesn't get away with whatever she may be plotting," Persephone said.

"Now that she is free...you think she may try something?" Snow asked her mother.

"It wouldn't surprise me. But we'll be ready for her now that we know," Persephone answered, as the hour grew late and they soon returned home to their respective castles for the evening.

~*~

Queen Ravenna huffed in annoyance, as they disembarked from the small ocean liner. She hadn't dared to take one of the royal ships, as all those vessels had to formally log and record their voyages and she wanted this trip strictly off the books.

"I can't believe I had to be subjected to that...how disgusting," she complained, referring to the conditions on board the modest ship.

"It was a perfectly modernized cruise ship, Your Majesty," Frollo reminded.

"The silverware wasn't even real silver!" she complained and he rolled his eyes. The woman was beyond spoiled and ridiculous. He hated that he was enslaved to her and constantly had to put up with this kind of nonsense.

It wasn't hard to hire a carriage to take them from there. It seemed that this land, since they had not made contact with other realms, was still not modernized. It was all perfectly mysterious and though the driver had no inkling about the object they were seeking, Frollo's research told him it was east of the Harbor.

"It will be a few hours until we come to the place you described," the coachman called to them. Ravenna growled, as she looked out the window in boredom.

"You better be right about this," she hissed, as the carriage continued on its journey.

~*~

David opened the door to the loft and showed Hook in, as he carried one meager bag and his daughter in his arms.

"Are you sure, mate?" he asked. He nodded.

"The loft was and is a special place for us. It was our first home together with Emma, besides the dreamscape," he replied. They had struggled with the decision on whether or not to sell it in the last three years and decided not to. They had kept it furnished and hired someone to keep it clean until they could let go of it. But now that Hook had come back with his own family to raise, they knew why they had hung onto it for so long and Snow felt this exactly what the reformed pirate and his little girl needed.

"That's what I mean...this place has a lot of memories for you and your lot," Hook mentioned.

"It does...and we have been reluctant to let it go. I think we've been waiting for the right person and tonight, he came along," David said. Hook looked truly touched by that.

"This will be a good start for you and Alice," he said, as he handed him the keys.

"We'll take care of it and enjoy it, I promise you that," Killian assured. David nodded.

"Oh and since I'm sure you need a job, come by the castle tomorrow. I'm sure I have something," he said. Hook nodded.

"And Alice?" he asked. David smiled.

"I'm sure my parents will happily watch one more," David said, as he left them.

"Well starfish...welcome home," he said, as he ventured upstairs, only to find that the loft was ready for a little girl to live in and he was touched again. It seemed that Snow had arranged it all in a very short amount of time, though she was Queen and had the power to do such now.

"Papa look!" Alice called, as she pointed to the chess set on the table.

"Well, I suppose we have time for a game before bedtime," he said, as he carried her into the room.

~*~

Flashback

Three Years Ago

"Magic…" she growled, as they suddenly watched the entire palace disappear. Next, the clock tower disappeared, then Granny's, and everything on Main Street. The magic swept around them and when it was gone, there was nothing but woods around them, like there had never been a town there in the first place.

"What the hell just happened?" Channing asked. But even Circe had no answers. Storybrooke was gone, without a trace or explanation to offer. And with it, gone was her revenge, leaving her with nothing.

Strangely, just as quickly as the town had disappeared, it started to reappear again.

"What's happening now?" Channing asked, even more confused now, as they watched a bright cloud of magic sweep around them again. This time though, the clock tower reappeared, then Granny's, and everything on Main Street. The magic continued to rebuild the town with the Sheriff's station, the school, and the Toll bridge. Storybrooke was back.

"They're back," Circe observed, as Cronus' palace reappeared. It was as if they had never been gone, but she knew better. She had a feeling whatever had happened was going to have serious ramifications; to what extent, she did not know.

"Madam Circe...something is very different…" Channing called, as she saw what he was looking at. In her very long life, she had seen many things and not much surprised her anymore. But this did.

"By the Gods...what have they done?" she uttered, as there was a poof of magic and her father, Mushu, stood before her.

"Father…" she greeted evenly.

"You must leave here, my daughter," he implored.

"I'm not going anywhere...not until they pay and I destroy magic. If I can't have it...then neither can they," she hissed.

"You cannot win this. Zeus is dead and Persephone reigns supreme. Not even Cronus or the Chernabog will openly and directly challenge her," the dragon warned.

"It figures you would want me to run...it is what you do best," she snapped.

"Please, my dear daughter...they will imprison you if you do not leave and your mother has refused to help me hide you. I do not know how long I can keep them off your trail," Mushu warned.

"We will take our chances," Circe refuted.

~*~

It was the next day and business as usual resumed in the United Realms, which meant Emma and Neal resumed their daily duties at the Storybrooke Sheriff's station. But today, they were sequestered in the bug on a stakeout, because of a tip about suspicious activity at the cannery.

Emma sighed in boredom, as they were six hours in already and Neal returned with a tray of coffee and cocoa.

"Are you sure about that tip?" she asked, as she sipped at her cocoa.

"Yes...I'm sure. This is the hotspot, which makes sense. The cannery is close to the harbor," he replied. She sighed.

"I just...magical smuggling? Really?" she asked skeptically.

"Merida swears that there is a witch in her Kingdom that's fond out that selling her magical goods and items in the United Realms is even more profitable than when she was limited to Dunbroch," he replied.

"Yeah I get that...but why is she so hung up on finding this helm? And if we know this witch has it, then why don't we just go all swat team on her hovel in Dunbroch?" Emma asked. He looked at her skeptically.

"Because she's a witch and invading her turf just means we'd be dodging a bunch of magical traps I'm sure she has bugged all over the woods around her hut," he reminded. She couldn't argue with that.

"As for the helm...no idea what's so special about it other than it once belonged to her dad," he replied, as they saw movement out back of the building.

"Oh...here we go. There's the old hag now," Emma said, as they witnessed the old witch appear in a puff of smoke. But to their surprise, her customer was wearing the armor of a Knight and not just any armor.

"That's Camelot armor," Neal said.

"You think his King sent him?" Emma asked.

"My father does get quiet when Arthur is mentioned," Neal replied, which they both found peculiar.

"There it is...the helm!" Emma hissed, as they slowly got out of the car.

"Yeah...there's something else in her hand too," Neal replied, as he used his binoculars.

"Can you tell what?" she asked.

"No...it's a vial of some sort," he replied.

"Well, the helm is stolen so that's good enough. Let's move in," she said, as he pulled his sword and she moved in with her gun.

~*~

"Just give them to me, you old hag," Sir Percival hissed.

"Mind your tongue boy...or I'll relieve you of," the witch warned in her thick accent.

"Listen...you will get your payment when I get the items I require," he said.

"You mean that your King requires," she said, as she held them up.

"The magical helm of King Fergus and this…" she hissed, as she held up the vial of glittery red sand.

"Say those words, witch and I will cut out your tongue," he warned.

"No one is cutting out anyone's tongues. Hands up," Emma ordered.

"This is none of your concern, Sheriff," Percival hissed.

"This is Storybrooke, so it's exactly our business. Hands up," she ordered. But Percival lashed out with his blade and Neal stepped in to duel him.

"Hands up witch," Emma warned, but the old hag smirked and launched a blast of magic at her. Emma dodged and countered with her own.

"Ahh...the magic of the Savior. How exhilarating! But I have been practicing magic long before you were born...long before your parents were born even," she boasted, as she volleyed magical blasts at her. But Emma countered with one big one and broke through her defenses.

"Give the advantage to youth then," she quipped, as she placed a pair of magical dampening cuffs on her and picked up the helm, along with the small vial of red, glittering dust.

"What is this?" she asked, as Neal brought back a cuffed and disarmed Percival, who gave the witch a hard glare.

"I have no idea," the witch feigned ignorance.

"Yeah right...but it doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure my grandmother and step-grandfather will know what it is," she said.

"And if for some reason they don't, my dad probably will," Neal added, as they put their prisoners in the back of the bug, before getting in and taking back to the station.

~*~

After several hours, they finally came upon the garden that Frollo was looking for and it happened to be at the foot of an old tower.

"This is it...this is where the map the cauldron provided showed," he said, as they got out of the carriage.

"It better be...I'm tired of waiting!" Ravenna complained, as she stomped into the garden.

"You have about as much finesse as a raging bull," Frollo commented. She turned and glared at him, as she extracted a pouched from her dress pocket. It glowed red, reminding him once again that she held the only object that could control him. Not that he needed reminding.

"Watch your tongue and find this flower you keep telling me about," she ordered.

"May I ask how you plan to use it against your enemy?" he requested. She smirked.

"Shouldn't that be obvious? I plan to use it to trap Snow White in some incredibly horrible place. I don't know where yet...perhaps Bald Mountain. Wouldn't that be poetic? I could trap her in the place her parents created to trap you," Ravenna answered.

"An interesting plan, but you don't think the heroes will find someone less desirable to take Snow White's place and rescue her from your captivity?" he questioned.

"You're going to figure that part out for me," she snapped and he rolled his eyes.

"Of course I am…" he muttered, as he didn't notice the vine slither out and wrap around his leg. He cried out and quickly took his monstrous form and snapped the vine. Ravenna watched with trepidation, as the vines slowly gathered and formed a cocoon of sorts. It glowed briefly and became the shape of a woman that soon revealed herself.

"Easy there beastie…" the woman with blonde matted hair cooed.

"Who are you?" Ravenna demanded to know. The woman smirked.

"I am the answer to your revenge…" she said softly.

"Are you the keeper of this garden?" Ravenna questioned.

"I am…" she answered.

"Then you have the golden flower I need," the Queen said.

"I do...but the flower isn't what you want," she responded. Ravenna frowned.

"And why not?" she demanded to know.

"The flower will hold your enemies for a time, but inevitably she will escape. However, I can offer you a solution to your Snow White problem if you help me," she tempted.

"And just who are you?" Frollo questioned, as he took his human form again.

"Mmm...you have been bonded to the black God and you possess Prometheus' flame," the woman surmised.

"How do you know that?" Ravenna questioned.

"Because I was there when the Titans were born. In a way, we are related, Chernabog. We have the same mother," she revealed.

"Gaia was your mother?" Frollo asked. She nodded.

"I was her first born, during the times of peace on this planet, long before she had the need to breed the Titans. But we all fell to those deceitful, treacherous Olympians," she replied.

"I am Gothel…" she revealed.

"You would help me get revenge on Snow White?" Ravenna questioned. She nodded.

"If you free me from the confines of this place. I cannot go beyond this tower or this garden thanks to those golden flowers you seek," she responded.

"Then we need someone to take your place," Frollo surmised.

"Correct," Gothel confirmed.

"But why help us? What could you have against my wretched former step-daughter?" Ravenna questioned.

"You mean what do I have against Demeter's beloved granddaughter? Hades' adored step-daughter? Persephone's perfect little snowdrop?" Gothel questioned. Frollo smirked.

"Of course...Persephone sits on the Throne that should be rightfully yours as Gaia's first born," he said.

"What is your plan for her?" Ravenna asked eagerly. Gothel smirked and a vial of potion appeared in her hand.

"If Snow White ingests this poison...it will cripple her heart. It will ruin it beyond repair. Not even her mother can revive her from this," Gothel revealed. Ravenna's eyes gleamed with an evil glint and desire.

"You're sure?" she asked with bated breath.

"Quite," Gothel replied.

"And true love's kiss? It cannot save her either?" Ravenna questioned.

"Not even true love's kiss can overcome this poison. It's the last of my mother's own concoction. She planned to use it on Zeus...but she died before she could. Then I was saving it for a pirate...but I feel it is better used on that demi-Goddess spawn," Gothel responded.

"And any soul to take your place in that tower will do?" Ravenna questioned. Gothel smirked.

"Absolutely," she replied. Ravenna looked at Frollo and the Promethean flame glowed.

"Find me some little waif to trap in that tower," she ordered. He sighed and transformed back into his monster form, as he flew off to do her bidding.

"So, as soon as you are free...I can have that potion?" she questioned. Gothel smirked.

"I cannot reveal my presence too soon. Persephone and Hades will suspect me now that a certain pirate has absconded to Storybrooke. But the potion is yours if I can hide...or rather grow in your garden," Gothel answered.

"Done," Ravenna agreed, as their devious deal was made...

~*~

Flashback

Three years ago

Circe ran toward the Harbor at Longbourne. Her father had been right and in the weeks that followed the reappearance of Storybrooke and subsequently, the United Realms, newly minted Supreme Sheriff and King David made it his personal mission to arrest her and all her followers. She had hoped for sanctuary in Cronus' Kingdom, but he had chosen to shun her in an attempt to make it seem like he was conforming to Persephone's rule. She knew better, but for whatever reason, she no longer fit into his plans and she was on her own. Not even her traitor of a mother, Hecate, would support her and she soon realized, begrudgingly, that she should have listened to her father.

"End of the line, Circe…" David called, as he and his Knights, including Lancelot, cornered her.

"You really think I'm letting some insignificant mortal like yourself take me down?" she challenged, as she fired several plasma blasts at his Knights. One was hit, while the others dodged. She cackled, as the Knight that had been hit was now struggling to stay alive and she fired her blasts at David. But she became truly shocked when he swatted her blasts away harmlessly, as the steel of his blade blocked and absorbed her blasts effortlessly.

"How...is that possible?" she questioned in disbelief. David smirked.

"Hephaestus reforged my blade. It has a few added advantages and strengths now. Hades was specific in the modifications and your weapons are useless against mine," David replied. She seethed. So that was how he and his Knights had easily captured and arrested all her followers. She growled and fired at him wildly, as he advanced on her, blocking every blast, until she was unwillingly disarmed. Lancelot cuffed her and Hades appeared, looking at her with a smug smirk.

"You really think this is over?" she questioned.

"All your lackeys, including Calypso and your blind sheep are behind bars and you're about to join them. I'd say over is an understatement," he retorted.

"If you think that we're all that there is to this...you're sadly mistaken. This isn't over...not by a long shot," Circe warned. But Hades didn't seem concerned.

"Whoever you still have out in the Land Without Magic can't get to us here and we have no plans to venture out there," he said. But Circe's face was marred with a smirk.

"I've waited centuries for my revenge...a few more years is nothing. You'll soon know how wrong you are," she hissed under her breath.

~*~

The United Realms prison was actually a very humane place. They had three meals a day, visitation twice a week, and even a bit of free time outside. But Circe and her followers didn't really get visitors these days, with the exception of an occasional call from her father. Upon her capture, Mushu had escaped the United Realms and faded into the obscurity of the Land Without Magic. And only Circe truly knew the reason why.

Her father, dissatisfied with the rule of the Gods, had taken up her leadership of what remained of the Home Office. Unfortunately, there was some opposition they were facing outside Storybrooke and he had not been able to regain access to the United Realms as a result. But Circe continued to wait patiently. She and her father both were very good at playing the long game and she wholeheartedly believed that someday, she would be free and wage war on Olympus, as well as all the Kingdoms. She would rule or she vowed to die trying.

[nadziejastar]

I know, right? Certain things in the reports went way too far for me to believe. I’m willing to buy that Lea and Isa snuck into the castle and met Kairi, not Skuld. I’m even willing to accept that they may have snuck in more than once and spoken to her a handful of times. Not enough for her to be their girl BFF like they want us to view Skuld. But enough to want to free her, while at the same time thinking she might have been a figment of their imagination. I don’t buy that Ansem had NO clue anything unsavory was going on in the castle if wailing could be heard from the outside, LOL. Nor do I buy that Lea and Isa knocked on the front door and became insta-apprentices. Especially while all the drama with the experiments was going on and after they had been caught trespassing many times. I mean, come on.

Day 172 ~Sound of the Surf~

Roxas: No, I was here on a mission a little while ago. And I ran into this white rabbit in a huge hurry to get somewhere.

Luxord: A rabbit? Really?

Roxas: I lost sight of him before I had a chance to see what the deal was, though.

Luxord: Luck’s like that. A window of opportunity can open and close in the blink of an eye. It’s whether or not you can jump on the chance when it arises that determines a man’s fate. Let’s hope we stand up to the odds this time around.

Roxas: Er, right.

Luxord: Let’s get started.

Other than those details, I think the reports were mostly left unchanged from how they were originally written. I actually think the plot of Wonderland in 358/2 Days was connected to Lea and Isa’s story and sneaking into the castle. The first mission with Luxord in Wonderland is on the day Xion passes out on Day 172 ~Sound of the Surf~. Obviously Lea and Isa meeting Ven was fate. But Ven never learned why Isa was in such a hurry to get where he was going.

Day 173: The Gamble

Author: Luxord

I find myself envying the children. Perhaps some fundamental difference exists between those who become Nobodies as adults and otherwise. The longer you have lived, the more you are positioned to lose with such a gamble. But a child can look forward, unafraid even in the face of immeasurable odds. I doubt they even see life as a gamble the way we do.

Luxord’s report the next day is very specific. There are only a few Nobodies who lost their hearts as children.

The castle was a wonderland to us children. Within its walls, Ansem the Wise conducted his research, and the fruits it bore allowed everyone outside to live in peace and happiness. That alone was enough to stoke our interest, though not all of the rumors that escaped its walls were so benevolent. By night, the muffled sounds of human wails emerged. There was talk of dangerous human experimentation. Lea and I couldn’t help but hatch a plot to steal inside and sate our curiosity.

The way they boys kept trying to sneak in sounds like they didn’t even see what they were doing as a gamble. And Saïx actually calls the castle a “wonderland” in his report. Was that also a clue? If Lea and Isa heard wailing, that would definitely make what they were doing a gamble. But the whole point of Luxord’s report sounded like it was emphasizing their ignorance of the risk they were taking, because they were kids.

Dilan, the imposing guard, picked up a pair of suspicious young intruders and ejected them from the gate.

“Ow! Cut it out!” shouted Lea, the one with red hair.

The storylines of Wonderland and Lea and Isa actually have a really uncanny similarity.

“There’ll always be another chance,” Isa reminded him softly as they walked away. Lea followed after.

“We were so close,” he complained as they reached the residential area.

They definitely didn’t see life as a gamble. They were too curious and it got them into a bit of trouble.

194 ~As It Should Be~

White Rabbit: I’m late! I’m late! I simply must get back. Oh dear! My report is due post-haste! Even if she’s curious, she’s sure to be most furious! For I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!

Roxas: It’s that rabbit.

Luxord: The one you mentioned the last time we were here?

Roxas: Yeah… What’s got him so tense? I’m a little curious.

The next day a story mission takes place in Wonderland is on Day 194 ~As It Should Be~. On this day Axel goes to Castle Oblivion and learns the truth about Naminé and also that Xion is a replica. She almost falls off the clock tower like Roxas did in KH2 when he connected with Kairi’s heart. Then Axel immediately brings up going to the beach.

He was only up at this hour because he’d never gone to sleep, working through the night on his report of the mission in Castle Oblivion. But pulling an all-nighter to finish a report did not gain him a reprieve from missions. He twisted to look up at Kingdom Hearts shining outside the window.

“You’re here early,” said Saïx.

Axel waited a second before rolling over to face him. “So are you.”

“No, I’m not. You’re just usually late.” Saïx took up his usual post.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Saïx looked down at him with distinct displeasure. “Did you hand in the report?”

Axel stretched his back. “Obviously.”

Saïx is still a lot like the White Rabbit in the novel. He is always in a hurry and wants to turn the report in post-haste. He lives in fear of the Queen of Hearts—er, Xemnas.

Luxord: Well, curiosity is essential to carving your own path through life. Get too curious, though, and it’ll be a short walk. No one can say whether following that rabbit’s footsteps will be your lucky charm…or get you killed.

Roxas: Isn’t that a little dramatic? Following him won’t change anything. We’re still here to hunt Heartless.

Luxord: Heh heh. Well, if you’re that certain… Let’s go after our harried little hare, see where he takes us.

Roxas: You’re okay with it, then?

Luxord: Following him won’t change anything. You said so yourself.

The day before this mission is Day 193 ~Memories~. Xion wakes up and goes on a mission with Roxas and Axel in Twilight Town. She passes out again and three scenes flash in her mind. Kairi’s heart entering Sora, Sora turning the Keyblade on himself to return her heart, and Kairi giving Sora her lucky charm.

Queen of Hearts: You STILL haven’t found them!? Someone’s head will roll for this!

Luxord: All the searching in the world won’t help them now.

Roxas: So it was the Heartless, then.

Luxord: I think our luck beat theirs today. In the end, your curiosity paved us a shortcut.

Roxas: They key to carving a path through life, huh?

Luxord: And all the way to the grave.

Roxas: Cheery thought…

You could say that Lea following Isa’s curiosity did pave a way straight to the grave for them both. Interestingly, white rabbits are said to be shamanistic guides who help souls navigate the lower realms where time does not flow. The Dark Realm and the Realm of Sleep are based on these shamanistic realms. So maybe Isa was also his lucky charm?

Day 117 ~Secrets~

“He and Xigbar will be taking a look at another new world.”

“Huh.”

There had to be some purpose to Saïx’s directives. He didn’t just pair up members at random. Partnering Axel with Xion and Xigbar with Roxas was part of a plan.

Axel couldn’t think of what it was at the moment, though.

I think there is significance to the white rabbit being likened to a lucky charm. But there are some things on Day 117 ~Secrets~ to bring up first. This is a weird day. Saïx tells Axel he needs to go back to Castle Oblivion and tries to tempt him by mentioning that Naminé and Xion are from there. When they’re assigned their missions, Axel is sent with Xion and Roxas with Xigbar.

Day 117: Him and Roxas

Author: Xigbar

Roxas is maturing at an impressive rate. His face, the way he handles the Keyblade, it’s all exactly the same. The worlds seem so divided and alone, but there’s always that steady thread there to connect them. And we Nobodies can never escape the things we did as humans. So it goes.

Xigbar also talks about how he can’t escape what he did as a human in his report. It’s obviously referring to Ventus who is inside of Castle Oblivion. But it could also be a hint at his actions during the experiments. There’s always a steady thread to connect things.

Suddenly, Xion’s face went hazy in Axel’s vision. He rubbed his eyes. What was that…?

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Uh, nothing…”

For an instant, he thought he’d seen Naminé.

Xion already looked like her but not completely identical. Their hair wasn’t the same color. But just now—just for that split second—Xion’s hair had turned blond, like Naminé’s. What was going on?

On this strange mission, Axel sees Xion as Naminé for some reason that’s never explained.

“When I sit here watching the sunset with you guys, I get the strangest feeling…like I used to watch the sunset and talk about nothing with someone else.” She’d never brought this up before; her gaze dropped as she gathered her thoughts. “…I get the same feeling when I look at the sea.”

After the mission, Axel and Xion have a conversation and Xion brings up her memories.

The sea… A seashell. To Axel, there was only one person that brought to mind. Sora.

He thought he knew a thing or two about Sora’s memories, scattered as they were by Naminé’s handiwork in Castle Oblivion. You could hardly get away from the sea back where he was from—the Destiny Islands.

And that good luck charm, the symbol of Sora’s promise to Kairi… Wasn’t it made of seashells?

So it wasn’t just Sora. It also made him think of Kairi, a Princess of Heart.

Axel knew that the seashell was significant because it represented Sora and Kairi’s promise.

If Xion had some connection to Naminé, then naturally, that memory of hers pertained to Kairi somehow. Naminé was Kairi’s Nobody, after all.

Or maybe it meant that Xion was related to Kairi herself.

So whose Nobody was Xion?

Now that he was thinking about this, he had to wonder if seeing Naminé in Xion during the mission was more than just random hallucination.

“But, Axel, you have memories, don’t you?” Xion asked.

“More or less. Not that they’ve ever done me any good,” he replied, looking over at her. Xion seemed unsure.

It was not just a random hallucination. Axel saw Naminé for an important reason that is of course left a mystery. There’s a special connection between Axel and Naminé. She only lured Sora to Castle Oblivion because she was lonely, but wound up switching sides. Axel also switched sides in Castle Oblivion. And Naminé followed Axel in KH2 because she could tell that he was lonely, too.

Axel: Congratulations, Sora! You’re ready now—ready to take on Castle Oblivion. You will need to follow your memories. Trust what you remember and seek what you forget. Then you will find someone very special.

Goofy: You mean King Mickey and Riku?

Axel: You will just have to give some more thought to who it is that’s—most important to you. Our most precious memories lie so deep within our hearts that they’re out of reach. But I’m sure that you can find yours, Sora.

Sora: Why me?

Axel: You have lost sight of the light within the darkness. And it seems that you’ve forgotten that you forgot.

In Castle Oblivion, Axel went through a very similar process that Sora did.

I don’t have a single friend in this place. All these people on my side—and his and the organization’s… But I don’t know if I can say that we’re really on the same side.

I’m alone here.

He’s nobody—no one at all—and yet he is somebody.

Shards of emotion, fragments of memory. So alike…but they’re completely different things.

Even if we can hold on to a few fragments of memory, we can’t have the smallest shard of emotion.

But Axel was feeling all alone after his sleeping memories awakened.

Sora: What… What are you saying? What’s gotten into you? Weren’t we inseparable, always together? But then you had to go away… I came here so I’d never lose you again!

Naminé: Was it really me you wanted to see?

Sora: Of course it was! I know I’ve forgotten a lot of things in this castle, but never anything about you!

Sora: Look! You gave this to me, didn’t you?

Naminé wasn’t the person Sora was inseparable from. The lucky charm changed when he remembered Kairi. She was alone, too.

Naminé: Think, Sora. Think just one more time. About who’s most special to you. Call out to that piece of memory that glimmers faintly deep inside your heart. No matter how far away the light gets, your heart’s voice will always reach it.

The lucky charm represents Sora’s light in the darkness.

Naminé: A promise… Huh… Sora, some of your memories’ links are deep in the shadows of your heart and I won’t be able to find them. But don’t worry—You made another promise to someone who you could never replace. She is your light. The light within the darkness. Remember her, and all the memories lost in the shadows of your heart will come into the light.

Sora: Another promise…

Naminé: Look at the good luck charm. I changed its shape when I changed your memory— But when you thought of her just once, it went back to the way it was.

Naminé reminded Sora of the promise he made to someone else who was special to him.

Day 118: You Changed, Not Me

Talking to Roxas and Xion always brings back memories of my human life, back when I was a kid. It’s a weird sensation. I ought to be able to share all this with Saïx, but I just don’t feel like it anymore. It’s strange, but I’m content with just missing what’s gone. I’m not the one who changed. You did.

Maybe Axel saw Naminé for a similar reason? On the Oathkeeper Keyblade the keychain is shaped like Kairi’s lucky charm. Saïx’s Moon Rabbit is the only weapon that has a Keyblade-like charm hanging from it. It’s shaped like a heart.

Sora: Kairi, remember what you said before? I’m always with you, too. I’ll come back to you. I promise!

Kairi: I know you will!

Isa’s heart is Lea’s lucky charm and his light in the darkness. It’s why he never became corrupted by darkness like all the other test subjects. Isa is always with him and will come back to him. Axel is struggling to see the light, though. His precious memories are being manipulated and he’s being misled by an illusion. Smoke and mirrors. The day Axel tells Roxas about Xion being smoke and mirrors also takes place in Wonderland with Xigbar present.

255 ~The Longest Day~

Luxord: Yet another mission here.

Roxas: Let’s hope things go as smoothly this time around.

Luxord: Heh. Don’t tempt fate. You’ll send Lady Luck running with talk like that. Time to ante up and play.

This is a very important day in the game. Xion runs away. Axel tells the audience why the sun sets red. Roxas tells Axel he’s late. He says Xion is late too and then checks his popsicle stick for another WINNER. He also mentions the trip to the beach. And the mission takes place in Wonderland again.

Xion: Axel, I’m remembering things… About who I was.

Axel: Well, stop remembering. Nothing good will come of it.

Xion: I have dreams every night. You’re in them, Axel!

Axel: Then they sure ain’t memories. How could I be part of your past? Use your head, Xion.

Xion: You can’t fool me. We’ve met before, Axel, right here in this castle!

I definitely don’t think Xion telling Axel he’s part of her PAST meant nothing.

On the day we finally secured our entry, we descended the long spiral stair at the heart of the castle to find a dark space below it, lined with cages. There wasn’t light enough to see if they were inhabited, and we were in no position to call out to any occupants within. Yet we could feel it. A definite presence, there in the black. Terror washed over us, and we immediately regretted coming. But just as we turned to flee, we heard the faintest of voices. The urge to run was nigh overpowering, but someone or something beckoned us on. There, framed by a tenuous sliver of light, we found her.

I still think the girl Lea and Isa wanted to rescue was Kairi.

Queen of Hearts: STILL nothing!? If I lost my temper…one of you will lose your head! Understand!?

Roxas: Are they still searching for the Heartless we took out last time?

Cheshire Cat: You might say they’ll look for absolutely nothing until they find it. And if they don’t find it here, perhaps they’ll find it there…in the next maze. Unless, of course, they decide to look for the new shadow that’s appeared. But that seems unlikely to me, does it to you?

Roxas: Wait… The next maze? There’s more than one?

Cheshire Cat: Oh, didn’t you know? Here, a maze is a maze of mazes. Isn’t that amazing!?

It coincides with what happened in Wonderland on this day, too.

Day 257: In the Cards

Author: Luxord

The air is charged. I can feel it. You go out on a big gamble at a time like this, and you’re going to lose big. That said, it’s betting against the worst odds that nets you the biggest win. I’m eager to see how this hand plays out.

And Luxord’s report a few days later also feels connected.

277 ~Searching~

Roxas: …So who are you, anyway? If you’re going to help me, why talk in riddles? Are you a friend or an enemy?

Cheshire Cat: Neither…or both… It’s quite up to you.

Roxas: Up to me?

Cheshire Cat: Why, yes. Once you believe, the truth and a lie are quite the same thing. Let your heart decide–it’s in your heart you must confide.

The last story mission in Wonderland is on Day 277 ~Searching~. It fits Roxas’ situation.

It was too dim to make out her features. We spoke to her in hushed whispers. Who was she? Why was she imprisoned here? She had no answers for us. Had no memories at all. She was an enigma, but I knew I wanted to help her. And so we continued our infiltrations, most of them stopped short at the castle gates. When we did manage our way inside, we spoke with her. That was all the comfort two children like us could offer. But Lea had other ideas. He was determined to free her. We slipped into the castle that day knowing only that we wanted, with all our hearts, to save her.

And it fits Lea and Isa’s past as well as their present. They were following their hearts.

Roxas: Ha ha, you don’t know?

Axel: It’s gotta be something good, if you’re a WINNER!

Roxas: Right.

Xion: Heh heh heh… Wow. The sun sure is beautiful. I know we’ve seen a lot of sunsets, but today’s puts them all to shame. If only things stayed like this.

The WINNER stick subplot started when Axel left for Castle Oblivion. And it was finally brought up again on Day 352 ~Sunset~. The sunset is a symbol of Xion’s promise to never forget. Lea saw Xion in the sunset in KH3 while struggling to remember something he forgot. Xion’s final boss theme is called “The Other Promise”. She helped him remember his promise to Isa. And Isa helped him remember his promise to her? Then they can both rescue Isa together? Xion also helped Ventus. Days’ Oathkeeper is the only one with two keychains. One looks like Aqua’s wayfinder. Ventus’ Lost Memory Keyblade also looks similar to Oathkeeper. Aqua made a promise to Ventus to wake him up. Aqua had a special connection to Kairi and her ability to wield.

Xigbar: The house is looking pretty empty, huh? I thought I’d get a little enjoyment watching Axel throw one last tantrum, but he went a lot quieter than I thought.

Luxord: Perhaps he was ready for it. Perhaps he put his existence on the line and won what he’d been longing for.

Xigbar: Wait a minute. How would that even be possible? We don’t exist, remember? What you’re saying goes against the laws of nature.

Luxord: Then perhaps he bet his NON-existence. Either way, he came out a winner. Oh, Axel. A grifter to the end.

Saïx: That’s absurd. He won nothing and is nothing. He couldn’t stand the emptiness of being without a heart, and that led to his demise. He was foolish and weak.

And I always got the sense that the WINNER stick should have come up again, too. I think it was also a reminder of the other promise Lea made to his best friend a long time ago. Meeting Ven and Roxas was what changed Lea’s fate from someone who lost everything on a poor gamble, into a WINNER.

[jokerfan99]

An Armor For Ruby (RWBY/RVB) Crossover by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

Sarge- "Front and centre on the double! It's time for you ladies to meet our new recruit."

Three of the other Reds took their positions in front of their commanding officer as they all panted heavily after dodging several barrages of tank fire outside. Sarge isn't worried for his men being blown to smithereens for he sees that attack as a good wake up call for these three idiots and reminding them they still got a war to win!

Sarge- "Good, you're all here. Now before we unleash our counter attack against the diabolical Blues, I want you all to introduce yourselves to... wait a minute. Where's Lopez?" Simmons- "I think he's still... PHEW!... outside, but we haven't seen him during the attack."

Outside Red Base

Lopez- "¡Oye! ¿Ahi alguien ahi? ¡Todavía estoy atrapado debajo de esto!"

Inside Red Base

Sarge- "Ahh don't worry, Lopez is a smart robot. I'm sure he'll be alright."

Before Sarge could say another word, Grif feebly raises his hand.

Sarge- "Yes, Grif?" Grif- "Permission to... GASP!... lie down and take an hour's... GASP... no wait, three hours... GASP!... rest." Sarge- "Permission denied! Now introduce yourselves to our new private. Miss Ruby Rose."

Grif, Simmons and Donut turned their head to the new face in the base. Each of the three have different reactions upon seeing her. Grif groaned in annoyance as he had enough having new girls coming to Blood Gulch, his sister's enough. Simmons doesn't mind although he does have a mixed feeling about it. For Donut's case, he's very excited to see her the first time so he introduced himself first.

Donut- "Oh hey there! Pvt. Franklin Delano Donut at your service." Ruby- "Hello, Franklin! Pvt. Ruby Rose, nice to meet you." Donut- "Why don't you call me, Donut. The folks around here prefer to call each other by last name, sort of like a long time tradition." Sarge- "Not bad for a good introduction, Donut. Now let's see how these two numbskulls greet her. Simmons!" Simmons- "What?... oh... Hi, name's Richard "Dick" Simmons. Private First Class. You can just call me Simmons." Donut- "And he's a cyborg." Simmons- "Yeah thanks Donut. Okay, Grif, you're turn." Grif- "Grif, private, goodbye!"

Well that was quick. Grif ran out through the entrance to go who knows where he'll be sleep at. Sarge, as always after seeing Grif's unnacceptable attitude, wasn't very happy before he pumps his shotgun.

Sarge- "Grif, where do you think you're going? Get back here or I'll give you some 'discipline'!" Simmons- "Oh don't mind him, he's always a jerk.

Just before Sarge leaves for the Great Grif Hunt, he says something to Simmons.

Sarge- "Simmons, while I'm off hunting, give this girl one of the bodysuits Sister left and once I get Grif back here, continue to strip his armor off!" Simmons- "Ro- wait what?"

Sarge left.

Ruby "Wow, talk about colorful personalities you guys have." Simmons- Yeah it's always like this here for the past four years. By the way, why did Sarge ordered me to strip Grif, the orange jerk you just met, off his armor. What's up with that?" Donut- "Well from the looks of it, Rose isn't wearing any armor. So I guess the rookie forgot to wear it before she left and Sarge decided to make Grif's armor as a substitute before she get it." Simmons- "I doubt it'll perfectly fit her. Ruby- "I don't need armor." Simmons- "What!" Donut- "Yeah, I know. This armor's sooooo last year. I can't keep the dust off it." Simmons- "She's not talking about that, she says she doesn't need armor!" Ruby- "That's right. I've already told sergeant before and I'm perfectly fine without one." Simmons- "But that's a violation of J0HN-117!" Donut- "I don't remember reading that back in bootcamp." Ruby- "Me too! My supervisors never even talked about it back in training." Simmons- "It is! Why don't you want to wear armor?" Ruby- "It's because I got superpowers."

(Cricket chirping nearby, on this PLANET?)

Simmons- "Oh no, not another idiot! CRAP! Ugh, Donut, get Sister's bodysuit." Donut- "Okey dokey. I painted some of them so they may look nicer. Be right back!"

Donut leaves.

Simmons- "Superpowers? Yeah right! If you have 'powers' then I take it you have an AI that can turn you into a thirteen foot giant." Ruby- "Uhmm... uh... ugh... what superpowers?" Simmons- "You said you got 'superpowers' seconds ago. What do you mean 'what'?" Sarge- "Simmons, I need help out here, pronto! Grif's struggling like a stubborn mule and Lopez's underneath a pod door!" Lopez- "¡Sácame de aquí!" Simmons- "Ugh, I'll be back. Why does command keep bringing more idiots, this canyon will be full of them if this keeps going!"

Simmons leaves Ruby as he goes out to help Sarge  outside. With herself alone, she slams her berrett onto her face in order to muffle one angry response.

Ruby- "I... AM SUCH... A DUNDERHEAD!!! Why did I said that? I know it was too early to say I got powers, but my stupid mouth won't keep shut! Oooohhh, I just embarrased myself in the first day. Don't worry, let's just hope he'll forget what I said and won't tell everyone else. Eep! Let's hope not! Okay Ruby, just calm down, calm down. I'll show my powers later. So long as they don't freak out. And besides it's my first day and I'm sure it won't get any worse later." Donut "I'm back! Hope you don't mind the colors."

Donut came back from retrieving Kakaina's bodysuits, all painted in lavish color. Ruby upon seeing the bodysuits blushed to see how tight they looked.

Ruby- "I'm seriously going to wear that in front  of a team full of men?!" Donut- "Woah, woah, woah, don't freak out Rose. You're dignity will soon be protected once you wear an armor." Ruby- "But it looks so tight! Even if I wear armor, it's still an embarrasing sight!" Donut- "Yeah it's a bit tight, but it still gives you additional protection from any bullets and it even absorbs explosive shockwaves. I once got a grenade stuck to my head and survived without a scratch." Ruby- "Really? That must be traumatizing." Donut- "Not at all after I made some payback. Here, take the unpainted if you like black" Ruby- "I'm not going to change in front of you! Is there somewhere private?" Donut- "Well you can use my room, nothing bt a few blings to keep the blandness away." Ruby- "Thank you. If what you say is true about the suit, it's cool! Also I won't have to worry so much if I double its protection with my Aura." Donut- "A what?" Ruby- NOTHING!" Grif- "Sarge, what are you doing? Get off me!" Sarge- "Hold still, I need to take off your armor. It's URGENT!" Grif- "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Simmons- "Sir, I don't want to be rude. But it sounded like you want to rape him." Sarge- "What? I won't go that far! Not yet."

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

[blog-in-a-corner]

TSOTBL - Words, Words, Words

Kim, Aaron and Lucinda sat around the fire, chatting as the time passed.

“No, I wouldn’t kill the other guy on the moon with a rock if the situation ever happened to come upon me.” Aaron stated, after some deep thought. “I told you Lucinda!” Kim teased in triumph. “Hey! I was just thinking of the best solution to your question.” Lucinda responded in a defensive manner. “Still! We aren’t block characters Lucinda, this is real life.” Kim asserted. Everyone stared blankly at each other for a moment. “So all of that aside,” Aaron said aloud, scooting closer to the fire. “Where is everyone else? The entire time we’ve been here I haven’t heard a peep from Aphmau, Garroth, or Zane.” “Well Aphmau and Zane went down to the kitchen to have lunch earlier. I don’t know where they went after that.” Lucinda replied, trying to recall anything else. “Zane had lunch again? That little rat turd….” Kim said under her breath in annoyance. “If that’s the case they’re probably hanging out in one of the rooms. Zane can’t stand anything moving or breathing that isn’t Aph and she probably doesn’t want to leave him alone.” Aaron elaborated. “Ugh, I’m glad, I’m not very fond of him…” Kim admitted, in an irritated tone. “Not too many people are fond of him to begin with.” Lucinda claimed, proceeding to lie down on the floor. “He’s fine by me, but I’m one of the few people on his good side, so….” Aaron explained. “Exactly. But I guess we really shouldn’t be saying anything, it’s easy to be critical of others.” Lucinda thought aloud. “Yeah….” Kim muttered, staring into the fire. “Oh I almost forgot, what about Garroth? Where is he? He usually hangs out around here.” Aaron asked. “He and I had lunch earlier, we talked for a bit, and then he went to give Zane his phone back after he accidently left it in the kitchen. I bumped into him some time afterward but he was acting a little off, I wanted to ask him about it, but I don’t know Garroth as much as you guys do…” Kim explained, adjusting her glasses. “I’m sure he’s fine. I’ve never seen him not happy, the only times I’ve ever seen him cry or even be upset is when we get to the sad part of a disney movie.” Lucinda assured nonchalantly. “I don’t know….” Kim muttered, somewhat doubtful of Lucinda. “He’s fine. Trust me.” Lucinda stated, gesturing to herself. “If you say so.” Kim responded, still in a bit of doubt. “By the way, are we going to do any cleaning today Aaron?” Lucinda asked, looking over to Aaron. “No, I think we could all use a little break. Besides, we’ve already gotten a lot done, having Zane and Aphmau over was a much bigger help than I thought it’d be.” Aaron answered, proceeding to lie down on the floor with Lucinda. “Yeah, I didn’t think cleaning up this place was going to be such a pain…” Lucinda sighed wearily. “Don’t forget that whole thing with the cars breaking down.” Kim added. “Yeah, that too” Aaron groaned, putting his arm over his face. “At least we were able to buy food right?” Lucinda reminded everyone. “That reminds me, aren’t we supposed to have dinner soon?” Kim mentioned. “Oh yeah, I think it’s Aphmau’s turn today.” Aaron remembered, sitting up. “Then let’s go remind her before she forgets and we all starve to death and BunnyHill is known for its haunted lodge not its bunnies.” Lucinda exaggerated, getting up alongside Aaron. They got up from where they sat and began to rush upstairs and ran into her room.

“Hey Zane do you think giraffes remember when they were little” Aphmau asked, slouched over the bed. “What kind of question is tha-” “APHMAU!” Kim interrupted Zane, busting the door open. “HELLO?!” Aphmau screamed, rushing to sit up on her bed. “WHAT THE HELL?!” Zane shrieked, jolting up from the floor. “MAKE US FOOOOOOOOOOOD!” Aaron joined, yelling dramatically. “Before we starve to death and haunt you for the rest of your life!” Lucinda shouted from behind Kim and Aaron. “Okay, Okay just stop yelling at me!” Aphmau yelled, still confused with the situation. “Irene! I swear you guys are complete ass clowns.” Zane hissed, annoyed with the others. “And you’re not because you have no funnybone or an ass.” Lucinda retorted. “You little-” “Hey! No fighting! It’s dinnertime.” Aphmau scolded both Zane and Lucinda. “Hmph!” Zane uttered angrily.

Everyone went downstairs and waited out in the lobby as Aphmau began to prepare dinner in the kitchn. Aphmau did need some assistance from Aaron to cook, as they didn’t have a lot of common ingredients that she was used to working with.

“You don’t have to help me cook, it’s my turn and you need rest anyway.” Aphmau insisted. “Yeah but we don’t have a lot of ingredients to use, a liquor store doesn’t exactly have the most diverse grocery selection, and uh, not to be rude or anything, but you don’t cook a lot, so...” Aaron replied, taking some bread and canned meats from out of the cabinets. “True...but still! I’m sure I’ll figure something out, trust me I don’t need any help.” Aphmau stated, taking the bread from Aaron. “Don’t worry it’s no trouble at all!” Aaron persisted, grabbing the bread back from Aphmau. “I mean uh, unless I’m bothering you, I wouldn’t want to-” “No you’re not bothering me at all! I just don’t want to bother you with this.” Aphmau explained. “You’re not bothering me either.”

They shared a small moment of silent awkwardness.

“Erm, why don’t we just get to cooking?” Aphmau suggested quietly. “Yeah let’s do that.” Aaron agreed, quickly getting to work with Aphmau.

After about an hour Aphmau calls out.

“Dinner is ready!” “Sweet!” Lucinda cheered, heading to the kitchen with the others.

Lucinda, Kim, and Zane all walked into the kitchen and sat down around the table. Zane then seemed to have remembered something and began to look around the kitchen.

“Looking for something Zane?” Aaron questioned, plating everyone’s food. “Yeah, I just realized I don’t have my phone on me. The last place I remembered leaving it was in the kitchen.” Zane answered, putting his hand on the kitchen table in reminiscence. “You don’t have your phone?” Kim asked in confusion. “I don’t? Wow totally not like I just said that.” Zane replied sarcastically. “Odd, I found your phone in here earlier and Garroth told me he was going to give it back to you when he was done cleaning the kitchen.” Kim stated. “Knowing the dumbass he probably broke it somehow and tried to cover it up.” Zane sneered, rolling his eyes and sat back down. “Speaking of Garroth, Kim, could you do me a favor and find him so he can come down for dinner?” Aphmau asked, passing everyone their food. “Sure thing!” Kim responded, getting up from her seat. “Because unlike some people I like to keep my promises.” Kim said under her breath, glaring at Aphmau. “Didja say something Kim?” Aphmau questioned, looking back to Kim. “I said I’ll be as quick as I can! I don’t want Garroth to miss dinner.” Kim lied, heading out of the kitchen.

Kim looked around the lobby for a moment, in case Garroth was already there.

“”Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it!” What a load, if you didn’t want to confront someone on their crummy behaviour all you had to do was say it.” Kim muttered angrily to herself. “Well, I guess I’d better get a start on finding Garroth.” Kim sighed. “Hm, I should go upstairs, I doubt he’s where the supply rooms are, otherwise he’d have probably heard Aphmau call everyone for dinner. If anything he’s most likely in his room.” Kim thought to herself, proceeding to walk upstairs. “Okay so let me see...i’m in room 118….Lucinda’s room is right next to Zane’s, being 117….Aphmau’s is next to mine and across from Zane’s…..gah! I wish I had a better memory...okay so Zane didn’t want the room next to Garroth’s but all of our rooms are really close together so….Garroth’s room should be 115!.......I think.”

Kim went up to room 115, she tried to open the door but it was locked.

“Locked…? Hey Garroth! You in there?” Kim called aloud, pressing her ear against the door to see if she could hear anything from inside the room. “Do you need something?” Garroth answered from inside the room. “Dinner’s ready! Aphmau sent me to come find you.” Kim replied. “Oh okay give me a second!” Garroth shouted, proceeding to exit his room. “Why were you in there for so long? I haven’t seen you since lunch.” Kim questioned, walking through the hall and down the stairs with Garroth. “Oh I was just….resting. The whole broken shoulder n’ all kinda gets me tired sometimes...” Garroth answered, looking at his arm. “Ah okay! I was worried it might’ve been something else.” Kim said, relieved. “Heh, yeah…..” Garroth muttered, walking alongside Kim. “I hope it's good, from what I've heard Aphmau isn’t that great of a cook.” “Irene have mercy on our souls and stomachs. Unless Aaron helped her like he tends to do, then nevermind that, he's a real good cook.” “Is that so? Then I guess we don't have to worry about dinner anymore huh.” Kim thought aloud, walking into the kitchen. “Oh good you found Garroth!” Aaron said quite happily, as Garroth and Kim sat down. “We made some reubens, except uh, without the sauerkraut, because there wasn’t any at the liquor store, and some weird canned version of corn beef.” “Looks yummy!” Garroth stated in delight, proceeding to take bite out of his sandwich. “Oh by the way, Zane.” “What is it?” Zane replied in annoyance. “You forgot this in the kitchen earlier.” Garroth said, handing Zane his phone. “Tch, why didn’t you give it to me earlier then you moron?” Zane asked, taking his phone from Garroth’s hand and putting it beside his plate.” “I couldn’t find you, I figured I’d give it to you later, and then…...it just slipped mind I guess.” “Typical.” Zane said with disdain. “I’m pretty stupid, what'd you expect.” Garroth uttered, looking down at his plate. He really wasn’t hungry, and he didn’t feel like being around Zane, but he didn’t want to bother his friends with his personal problems, so he just sat and ate with them, acting like everything was normal. Kim gave Garroth a quick glance of concern before returning to her meal.

Nothing new under the sun.

[chalantness]

I love your batcat smut! For the kink meme, can I get batcat, at a party, with 32, 49, 117 and/or 163? Thank you so much!

“117, 124,149,160 please for batcat( also Selina should be the bottom ;).  )” requested by an anon

“If you’re still taking requests: 17,49,72,99,115,124 for batcat ;)” requested by another anon

17. Begging or offering + 32. Coming in or on one’s partner + 49. Exposure + 72. Hand fetishization + 99. Messiness and markers of arousal + 117. Possessiveness or jealousy + 124. Rough sex + 149. Submission + 160. Urgency for sex+ 163. Vaginal penetration (kink meme)

also inspired by this post and this gif (nsfw)

She’s felt his stare all evening, and more than once, she’s caught his eyes from across the room, her lips curving at the corners as he sipped on his glass of scotch and openly watched her. She wanted to be annoyed by it, wanted to be annoyed by the charming lines he’d no doubt given to anyone that realized his attention was elsewhere. He’s never had a problem making conversation at these galas before, yet he’s taken to simply staring at her, acting every bit the smitten fiance and getting away with it while she indulges in questions about venues and centerpieces and silverware. She’s never been a fan of small talk, and especially not when it involves people attempting to pry in her life, but the annoyance she keeps expecting to come - just doesn’t.

She’s actually a little bit charmed by their attention, by his attention, and honestly, that’s when she knows she’s kind of screwed right now.

She feels someone come to stand behind her, a large, warm, calloused hand sliding over the small of her back and up her spine, bared by the low dip of her dress. She bites on the inside of her lip, fighting off a shiver. “I missed you,” he murmurs against her temple, and her lips curve into a smile as she rolls her eyes, his comment drawing a few giggles from the young socialites that she’s been talking to for the better half of the hour. They were genuinely interested in discussing the art being featured in this gallery opening, at least before they’d started asking Selina about wedding preparations, and it’s been refreshing.

“Please.” She tilts her head to meet his eyes, finding them dark and hazy. Hungry. “It’s only been an hour.”

“An hour and twenty-four minutes, actually,” he corrects, earning a few more giggles from the girls, and Selina really shouldn’t be so charmed right now. Not when she knows that he’s saying things like this - playing the doting, enamored fiance - in hopes of getting them out of this evening as soon as possible.

But the thing is? She also knows that he means it. That he’s been keeping track of the time since they were whisked away from each other to mingle, and she would be lying if she said she hasn’t been counting down the minutes until it was appropriately acceptable for them to leave. If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all, really. And as much as she loves putting on something silky and sexy for Bruce to peel her out of later, she’d much rather have stayed home.

(God, she’s becoming as much of a home body as he is.)

“You were supposed to be paying attention to the artwork, not the clock,” she teases, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. He rubs a small circle in her skin with his thumb and she hums, just low enough for only him to hear.

“Mm.” He brushes his lips to her temple. “You were being distracting.”

“I was talking.”

His breath is warm as it fans over her ear, making her feel tingly, hazy. She vaguely remembers to say goodbye when the girls all giggle and say that they’ll catch up with her later, and then Bruce brings his hand around to her stomach and presses her flushed against him, nipping at the shell of her ear. Her gaze slides across the room, and no, no one is paying them attention right now. But still. Bruce has never been one for public affection, but right now, he doesn’t seem to care at all about where they are, who might be watching.

He tucks her under his arm, swiftly guiding her toward one of the back exits of the gallery, and her heels echo against the marbled floors as he guides her down the shadowed hallway. Technically, they’re not allowed to stray past the gallery and into the rest of the museum for the rest of the evening, but she knows that there’s a private, family bathroom at the other end of this hallway, and she’s not at all surprised when Bruce pulls her into it, clicking the lock into place behind them.

“After this, we’re going home,” he tells her, his tone firm.

She arches an eyebrow. “Why not just leave now?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer. She still wants him to say it, though.

“Because I can’t wait that long,” he growls, reaching her in one long stride and pinning the small of her back against the edge of the sink counter as he kisses her, hard and hungry and deep. She lets out this little noise from the back of her throat, winds her arms around him and parts her lips when he licks at them.

One of his large, calloused hands is smoothing down her back, his fingers trailing over the curve of her spine, and her lips tug into a smirk at the touch. She’d worn this dress on purpose, knowing how much it drives him crazy when she bares her skin like this. Part of it is because of jealousy, though not out of genuine belief that she wants someone to flirt with her, or that she’d even entertain the idea. She knows that he just doesn’t like all of the attention that it brings, and the fact that men think they can get away with saying something shady and almost always shitty simply because of what she’s wearing.

But part of what drives him crazy is because of how much he wants to touch her. She knows he’s spent all night staring at her back, imagining his nails dragging across her skin in that way that she loves, imagining how soft and warm and pliant she always feels under his touch,

He draws his lips from hers, kisses her cheek, the bridge of her nose, the top of her eyelid. “Turn around,” he tells her.

Her heart sort of skips in her chest as she holds his gaze. His eyes are bright and almost mischievous, and she bites on the inside of her lip to keep from smiling too widely. He’s always so damn composed, so damn serious, but she kind of loves it at the same time. She loves that she’s the only person he’ll be this playful with.

“Turn around,” he repeats after another moment, and, other than a challenging arch of an eyebrow, she doesn’t try to resist.

She turns around slowly, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, and she presses her palms flat against the cold, smooth marble and bends forward a little, bracing herself against the counter. His gaze flicks down the dip of her cleavage at this angle, his lips twitching at the corners, and she feels a warmth shoot through her veins. It’s kind of ridiculous how she could feel so turned on by this - so vulnerable yet empowered all at once, knowing that she has this kind of hold over him, even as she’s bent over at his command.

Slowly, teasingly, he reaches down and gathers the hem of her dress in his fingers, lets his knuckles drag against her thighs through the thin material of her stockings as he pushes her dress up higher. He bunches it just over her breasts, and she shivers lightly as he pushes her now-bared torso flat against the counter, then reaches for the lace waistband of her panties and drags them down the curve of her ass. She’s wet, and honestly, she can’t even pretend to be embarrassed by it. Not with Bruce.

Her hips jump as he brushes two fingers over the slick folds of her sex, rubbing gently, and he bends himself over her to kiss the back of her neck.

“The next time you try to talk me into being social, remind me to say no.”

She breathes out a laugh, which tapers off at the end as his fingers find her little bundle of nerves, massaging it gently. Fuck, she’s so wet that he has to wipe some of it off on the inside of her thigh before finding her clit again to tease it. “I’d just leave you at home and come by myself,” she taunts, and because she knows the man she loves, she’s not surprised when he gives her little bundle a soft pinch, making her suck in a gasp.

“I’d make sure you were too exhausted to leave,” he promises, and her heart flutters, her eyes falling closed. “I’d make sure you couldn’t get out of bed.”

“Promises, promises,” she breathes out, and then her spine is arching off of the counter as he sinks two fingers into her without warning, her nails scratching at the marble as she catches his gaze again in the reflection. She looks just as desperate as she feels, and, judging by how hard the front of his slacks feel pressed against her hip, she knows he’s wound up just as tightly.

He knows her, knows her body like the back of his hand. He knows that toying with her clit is the quickest way to build up her pleasure, that constant circles and just a little bit of pressure will have her shaking, biting back pleas of more. She rolls her hips back, trying to find his rhythm, but he’s toying with her, never quite letting her find it, and it’s driving her crazy.

“Fuck.” She lets her forehead fall against her forearm. “Fuck me, Bruce.”

She hears him groan softly, and she very nearly whimpers when he pulls his fingers out, circles her flit once, twice, three times, and then sinks three fingers back into her. She lets out a soft, sharp cry, and then his thumb presses against her bundle of nerves, circling, and she’s right there, right there–

His lips brush against the back of her neck in another soft, feather-light kiss as her orgasm bursts over her, his mouth lingering, nipping at her skin as he stills his hand, letting her rock back against his fingers, her sex tightening around them. She can feel her wetness sliding down the inside of her thighs, and it’s a good thing she wore a floor-length gown, because her stockings are probably ruined now.

She mewls as he draws his hand back, and she lifts her head, catching his stare in the reflection as he wraps his lips around his fingers, sucking her release off. Her heart stutters in her chest, and, even as the tremors of her orgasm ripple over her, she knows she wants more. Fuck, she always wants more from this man. She rolls her hip, pressing back against the hard front of his slacks, and draws his hand from his lips and reaches for his belt.

“I don’t have anything with me,” he warns.

“I don’t care.” She practically hisses it in frustration, and honestly, she can’t even be bothered by the amused twitch of his lips. No, this wouldn’t be the first time they’ve gone without protection - because they’re both so damn impatient - but she still gets the same sort of rush at the idea of it, at the anticipation of feeling him bare against her, stretching her, pressing against her folds.

He undoes the buckle of his belt and tugs the zipper of his slacks down, and she can’t quite help the way she licks her lips when he pulls his length out. Then her eyes dart up to his, and a stupid warmth spreads across her cheeks.

“Hi, Cat.”

She wants to laugh. “Hi, Bat.”

He guides his length to her folds and rolls his hips slowly, sliding through her slickness. He leans over, kisses the top of her hair. “I love you.”

“Sap,” she teases, and he smiles - soft and small, but stupidly, giddily bright - and her heart flutters in her chest. “I love you, too.”

She reaches back, hooks a hand over the back of his neck and pulls his lips to hers as he presses right at her entrance, and then he’s pushing into her, licking into her mouth when she parts it in a moan. The counter is biting into her hips but even that feels fucking amazing right now, her muscles quivering, tightening in pleasure as he pulls out and then back in, faster, deeper.

He presses one hand against the flat of her stomach and slides up and under her dress, fingers fumbling to squeeze one of her breasts, like he can’t quite help but want to touch her, to feel every inch of her skin against every inch of his. His other hand tucks under her lacy garter belt, finding the spot just over her left hipbone that always, always makes a shudder of pleasure roll down her spine. She feels dizzy and light and weightless, and even the hard edge of the counter pressing into her skin isn’t enough to cut through the haze of arousal.

She arches her spine, nails scratching at his neck, digging into his skin. He drops his face into the curve of her shoulder, muffling a groan.

“Fuck,” he growls, pressing his hand flat against her thrumming heart.

She’s close, and she knows he is, too, and he slides his hand from her hip and between her legs, finding her slick clit and circling, making her cry out.

White-hot pleasure pulses over her as her body arches against his, trembling and shaking, and he kisses the racing pulse in her neck with a groan as she flutters and tightens around him. He thrusts in a little harder, scratching down her stomach in a sharp bite of pleasure as he chases his high, following her over that edge a few thrusts later. She whimpers as she feels his warmth spill inside her, making a fresh burst of pleasure ripple through her veins as their orgasms wash over them.

She feels as if her muscles are melting, feels weightless, boneless, and the only thing really keeping her from sagging against the counter is Bruce’s arms wrapped around her, holding her against his chest. She feels his lips brush against the shell of her ear, feels his teeth playfully nip at her lobe.

Her eyelashes flutter open as she starts to float back down from her high, their heavy breaths filling the small space of the bathroom, and she feels a tingle in her stomach as she catches sight of herself in the reflection. Her skin is flushed all over, her lips a little puffy and swollen, her dress bunched and twisted around her torso, and she knows that she must look as wet and filthy as she feels where Bruce is still inside her, their wetness slowly sliding down her legs.

She looks fucked. Truly, thoroughly fucked.

“We’ll have to skip our goodbyes,” he says, his voice rough and a little bit raspy as he lifts his hand, traces the curve of his cheek with his knuckles. “Because the sight of you like this will no doubt upstage every piece of art in that exhibit.”

She breathes out a laugh, turns her head to kiss the line of his jaw.

“Then take me home, darling.”

[dramaqueeenamby]

Family Counseling (8)

Family Counseling (8) - Drabble

MASTERLIST

A/N: It’s literally 3am here, and I’m so exhausted, but I said Wednesday and damnit you guys are gonna get a chapter on Wednesday!

So, this one is strictly backstory because I figured it’s time to partially answer the question as to why T was out here being a F Boi for all those years. I say partially because it is my belief that people can make their own decisions and take control of their own lives. But that’s all I’ll say on that. (: 

This one skips around a bit, but it’s all in the past, goes in chronological order and ends with the events that occur in CACW. Also, if T seems too OOC, remember, my interpretation of him is a hypid of Comics and MCU.

No lines from the comics in this one ( I don’t think. Again, it’s mad late. Literally typing with droopy eyes). However, I like aesthetics and visuals so here are some pictures to words for this chapter. I.e. how I imagine ‘her’ looking and her outfit for this chapter.

Hope I didn’t miss anyone in the tagging! If I did, I apologize! Let me know! I’ll be sure to get you next time!!

Seeing all the love really makes my day! <3

@janellemonaenae | @ruminationsofaraven | @dreamer7black | @hutchj | @onyour-right  | @iamimanim | @groovybbyyy

Words: 3106

They didn’t fight that often, but when they did, things got ugly.

Partially because both of them were so strong-minded and neither were willing to back down.

Especially when it came to the Sokovia Accords.

“How could you agree to this? It is wrong! It is a violation of basic, human rights, T’Challa, and you know it!”

“You are missing the point, Y/N. How many more innocent lives must be lost before these people are finally reigned in?”

“These people? You mean people like myself?”

“You know that that is not what I mean. The Avengers-“

“The Avengers save lives, but I suppose they only need to be reigned in when it is Wakandan lives that are lost, hmmm?”

Up until that volatile exchange, they’d had an interesting relationship, one not even she could explain. They were friends, but they were also lovers.  She would visit him in England while he finished getting his Ph.D at Oxford during her breaks throughout her own graduate school experience at NYU. Sometimes he would come visit her, it all just depended on who could make it work.

She knew when he and Nakia were on because boundaries were kept with the war dog sometimes being there when she arrived, T’Challa sometimes not even bothering to inform her prior to her arrival.

Then there were the times that the prince of Wakanda and the spy were off; those were her favorite and the easiest to decipher. They’d barely make it halfway into his loft before he had her up against the door, thrusting so forcefully into her, the pictures up on the wall often falling and shattering.

And she hated that. She hated that uncertainty that accompanied their arrangement, that “alternative” that always floated above her head because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that T’Challa lover her the way she loved him, she knew that wasn’t the case.

He would have permanently ended things with Nakia and made her his girlfriend, but he didn’t, she was simply kept on the back burner, called for when he needed council and a set of legs to go in between.

At least, that’s what it felt like for her.

Nevertheless, she accepted it because she loved him, and love is truly blind.

+++++++++

“What troubles you, my son?”

T’Challa looked over at his father.

“Nothing, Baba.”

King T’Chaka laughed and looked out the limo’s bulletproof window. “Surely, you do not expect to engage in diplomatic relations with a troubled spirit?”

T’Challa revealed a small smile, almost embarrassed to think that he could hide anything from his father. “It is…It is y/n.”

The older man stilled. “I figured it was.” He took a deep breath. “I gather she is not in agreement with your acquiescence to the Accords.”

T’Challa exhaled deeply and ran his hands over the pants leg of his suit. “She believes them to be invasive.”

“And what of you? What do you think?”

He paused and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

“I have a duty to my country, to my people, to always put their safety first,” T’Challa spoke with the utmost conviction, but he was unsure as to who he was trying to convince.

T’Chaka nodded slowly. “Being King…it requires difficult decisions, sacrifices, and certain situations arise that not everyone who is not of our culture will understand.”

“Y/N is Wakandan, Baba.”

“Hodari is of Wakanda, but her mother was not. My son, you must understand that the trace and influence of the mother can never nor should ever be erased from a child.” T’Chaka advised. “Y/n cannot help who or what she is; however, it is vital that we, that you, also take heed to these moments to remember why she can never be your queen.” A beat. “Wakanda must never allow an outsider to sit on the throne.”

The words cut deep, a reminder of his father’s closeted view on their ways of life. A reminder as to why he could never give the woman he loved more than what he currently did because, in the long run, he would end up hurting her.

But he already was, toying with her emotions, with her heart. It wasn’t fair, not to her. But he couldn’t give her up, and he knew that was selfish of him, one of the few times in his entire life that he was selfish, but he wasn’t ready to accept the fact that he could never be with Y/n in the way that he truly wanted.

If only he could find the strength to tell her that.

+++++++++

She’d just finished up Maladaptive Behavior & Psychopathology when she noticed the other students whispering among themselves, sharing their cell phone screens with one another. She’d learn that could only mean one thing.

Something had happened whether in the terms of actual importance domestic, foreign, or in the entertainment field.

Knowing the students in her class, she tended to believe it was some superficial news revolving around a family who was famous for Bast knew what considering they had absolutely no talent.

However, as she passed the lounge, she happened to glance up at the television where she overheard the last bit of the correspondent’s statement.

“…..and among the dead, King T’Chaka of Wakanda.”

“What?” She whispered.

Or so she thought.

“Yeah.” A student came up behind her and shook his head, a sad look in her eyes. “Terrorist attack. Bombing in Sokovia. Representatives for 117 nations were there for the signing of the-“

“Accords.“ She breathed, eyes still glued to the television as she clutched her phone.

The brunette nodded. “They’re still conducting a search for possible survivors, but the king is the latest to be confirmed dead.”

“What of the others?” Y/n snapped her head to turn to look at the young woman. “The other Wakandans. Prince T’Challa and the other representatives?”

He mouth opened, but nothing came out but stutters. “I didn’t realize that there were others. Like I said, this literally just came out within the past hour or so.”

“Thank you.” She spoke abruptly and practically sprinted to the nearest restroom, locking herself in the largest handicap stall. She grabbed her phone and hit the third favorite in her contact list. “Come on, Baba.” She started to pray to Bast, as each ring made it harder for her to breathe.

“Y/n!” Her father finally appeared as the call switched over to FaceTime, a few cuts and such on his face but other than that he appeared to be fine.

“Glory to Bast.” She released a shaky breath and shut her eyes. “Baba, I just heard….King T’Chaka…”

“I know…” His head dropped, and her heart sank. The nation had just lost its leader, but her father had just lost one his dearest friends.

“I am so sorry.” She whispered, and when he said nothing, she finally garnered the courage to ask. “Baba…where is T’Challa?”

“He is safe.” He confirmed, and she leaned her head back against the wall. “But he is not holding up well.”

“He just lost his father, Baba.” She reminded with a grimace. “This is not something-“

“You do not understand, daughter.” He interrupted with a newfound sense of urgency to his voice. “The pr-the king has made a vow to kill the man responsible for T’Chaka’s death.”

“What?”

“He was….he was right there when the blast occurred…I fear that seeing it happen has had opposite effect on him.”

Y/n grew quiet. Her mother’s murder struck absolute grief into her….

“He is blinded by rage….” She spoke lowly before shaking her head. “You must speak with him.”

“I have tried. He is beyond reason. At least, with me….”

She diverted her eyes. “We…we are not on good terms right now, Baba.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek.

“He listens to you.” She sighed. “Please. If he kills this man-“

“Wait, he already knows who it is?”

He paused. “I will start the preparations for your travel arrangements. It is not safe for me to share such sensitive information over the airway.”

“Baba-“

With that, he disconnected the call.

+++++++++

Along the ridiculously long flight to Sokovia, Y/n learned that not only had T’Challa gone after the culprit, an alleged Bucky Barnes in Romania, but had been apprehended for interfering with an international case and was being detained in Berlin along with Captain America and Falcon.

Being redirected twice allotted her a lot of time to get caught up on everything.

She felt the eyes on her, most judgmental, as her father argued away with a certain Agent Ross who continued to grill her father on “what the hell she was doing there.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Wait in there, please.” Agent Ross instructed as he lazily motioned to a room that contained Steve Rogers and an African American man.

She was momentarily starstruck by Captain America but soon recalled that not too long ago a certain lover of hers was involved in a battle with America’s favorite superhero not too long ago.

She turned to look at her father.

“Baba?”

“I will handle this. Do not worry.” He spoke in Xhosa as the two disappeared down the hall.

She took a deep breath and entered the room.

“Well hello,” The black man with a charming smile and suave voice was the first to talk. “How you doing? Perhaps detainment ain’t so bad, after all?”

Y/n squinted her eyes in recognition. “You must be the Falcon?”

His smile faltered as Steve chuckled. “Okay. What happened to secret identities? Break a couple international laws and all of a sudden due process is thrown out of the damn window.”

She smiled. “Relax. No one told me anything. It just makes sense. You being in here with…” She turned around to face Steve who was sitting down at the edge of the table. “Captain.”

“Please.” He gave a slow nod. “Call me Steve.”

“And I’m Sam.”

“It is an honor.” She extended her arm and shook their hands. “I wish the circumstances were a little different.” A beat. “I am Y/n.”

“So, Y/n,” Sam took on a flirtatious tone when he said her name. “What they got you in for?”

“I am here of my own volition.” She said vaguely, not wanting to reveal that she was specifically there for T’Challa.

She was enjoying the conversation and had a feeling that letting them know her true intentions would ruin that.

Steve gave her a strange look. “Your accent…”

She withheld a frown. So much for reminding incognito.

“I am Wakandan-American.”

“Ah,” Sam muttered, a disappointed expression on his face. “You’re here for the cat.”

“Sam.” Steve scolded, before turning his gaze back to Y/n. “Are you his…

“I am here to try and reason with him. T’Challa is….the man you see now is only a shadow of who he truly is.” Again, she was careful with her words, unsure of how much she should reveal. At the end of the day, they were still on opposite sides of the battle.

“Sounds like you two are pretty close,” Sam noted.

A small smile crept on her face. “He-“

“Y/n?”

She looked over at the door to see him standing there, a surprised look on his face. She didn’t know what came over her, but she suddenly forgot where she was, forgot about their last shouting match, forgot everything.

She pushed herself out of her seat, moved across the room, and threw herself at him. He immediately latched his arms around hers. She mumbled into his chest I’m so sorry in Xhosa, hating how she felt him tense from her words of consolation.

They stayed as they were for a few more seconds before pushing her back and cupping her face.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes kept darting from her eyes to her lips and she could tell that he was fighting the urge to kiss her.

She placed her hands on his wrists and looked at him. “What are you doing, T’Challa?”

He sighed and kissed her forehead, lightly trailing his hands down her sides. “Come with me.”

She took his hand as he led her out the room. She didn’t realize until they were halfway toward his private room that she didn’t say goodbye to Sam and Steve but that seemed trivial in the grand scheme of things.

“You should not have come here,” T’Challa warned as he closed the door to his private room. “It is not safe.”

“My father is worried about you.” She slid her bag off her back. “I am worried about you.”

He avoided her eyes. “All will be well soon enough.”

“No.” She shook her head and marched up to him, forcing his face into her hands as she made him look at her. “You do not get to do that with me. Fool these Americans with this aloofness, but do not think for a second that your charades work on me.” A beat. “He would not want this, T’Challa.”

She saw it for a moment. A spark of the old T that she knew return at the mention of his father, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

“The dead have no wants.”

He gently pulled her hands from his face and walked past her.

She pushed her lips together and looked down. “Killing Barnes will not alleviate your pain, T’Challa. It will only plant a seed of rage that will eventually consume you.”

“Do not pretend for a second that you understand-“

“Of course I understand!” She spun around and matched his loud tone of voice. “You know that if anyone should know that it’s me!” They stared at each other before she asked him a question. “Why do I feel like you’re pushing me away?”

He furrowed his brows. “What?”

“There once was a time where I could get through to you, where you would at least contemplate my advice, but it seems as though as of lately you continue to put up this wall between us.” A beat. “I suppose I am only of use when you need your sexual appetite appeased.”

“Y/n-“

“No-“ She put up her hand and grabbed her backpack. “I love you, T’Challa, and it is because I love you that I cannot stand here and watch you do this.” She turned to walk out the door, hand on the knob. “I will not stand by and watch you lose yourself to hate.�� She shut her eyes. “Bast be with you.”

+++++++++

Y/n didn’t like tears. She just didn’t. She thought them healthy, but a waste of time. She much preferred to talk about the cause of tears rather than actual crying.

That’s why she tended to hop in the shower when she felt a good cry coming on.

So after her not so pleasant exchange with T’Challa and after asking her dad to book her a ticket back home, she headed straight to her hotel and went straight to the shower.

She was currently on her third shower. At that point, her skin was so red and warm, she hadn’t bothered to put clothes on, just settling on a towel.

Each shower was accompanied by a good sob.

She cried for the loss of her king, she cried for T’Challa, and she cried for herself.

She hated that she wasn’t more patient with T’Challa, knowing how stubborn he was. Then she hated how she always seemed to give him chance after chance. It was as if nothing he did was terrible enough for her to cut him off, for her to finally let him go, and move on with her life.

Would this be enough?

Would killing a man be enough?

She had a sick feeling in her stomach that the answer was no?

That made her cry even harder.

She had exited the bathroom and was tightening the towel and looked up to find him sitting on the edge of her bed. “What the-“ She grabbed her heaving chest. “For Bast sake, how did you-“

“How did you do it?”

She sighed. “Do what, T’Challa?”

“He was…there…alive….and then he was just…gone..”

She licked her lips and slowly approached him. “The first thing is you cannot blame yourself.”

“I was right there.” He said more to himself than her. “I should have noticed sooner. I should have-“

“And I should have killed my mother’s murderer’s with just the thought,” she interrupted and placed a hand on his chance. “The only thing that contemplating hypothetical scenarios do are create cognitive dissonance. You will destroy yourself if you do not forgive yourself.”

He looked down at her, a vulnerability and passion that she’d never seen before burning in his brown eyes. “I can only do that in the event of his demise.”

“His death will not fill that void, T’Challa. Nothing will because it never goes away. It just gradually gets better over time, and with the love and support of family, friends, and the people that you love.” She spoke with honesty while tugging on the sides of his shirt.

He gave her a questioning gaze but pulled the shirt over his head and allowed her to lead them to the bed. “What are you-“

“You need an outlet.” Was all she said.

He grabbed her wrists as she started to unbuckle his jeans.

“No.” He shook his head. “I won’t take advantage of you. Not after you have made your feelings clear-“

“T’Challa-“ She sighed and shut her eyes. “It is not taking advantage of me if we both want it. You need an outlet, and I need…I don’t know. I just know you well enough to know when your mind is made up, and you have already decided that you’re going to kill that man, and I don’t know where that will leave us.” She allowed the words to flow freely and without a filter. “So tonight is just about….release.”

And release he did, he’d always been an attentive and adaptive lover, giving her whatever she wanted.

But that night was different, he was aggressive, forceful, not so much as to cause her pain, but as to where she could feel his pain.

It was almost lovemaking on an empathetic nature, and it scared the shit out of her.

But when she woke up that morning and saw that he was gone, empathetic mattered not, she realized that something had to change, she had to change.

She couldn’t do it anymore.

She had some decisions to make.

She just hoped that he could live with them.

She just hoped that she could live with them.

[papermoonloveslucy]

LIZ’S INFERIORITY COMPLEX

February 3, 1951

“Liz’s Inferiority Complex” (aka “Liz Develops an Inferiority Complex”) is episode #117 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on February 3, 1951.

This was the 19th episode of the third season of MY FAVORITE HUSBAND. There were 31 new episodes, with the season (and series) ending on March 31, 1951.  

Synopsis ~ After messing up a joke, bombing at bridge, and lousing up George's breakfast, Liz develops an inferiority complex.

Note: This program was the basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode "The Inferiority Complex" (ILL S2;E18) filmed on September 6, 1952 and first aired on  February  2, 1953.  Much of the dialogue is repeated verbatim from the radio program. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) had worked with Lucille Ball on “The Wonder Show” on radio in 1938. One of the front-runners to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” he eventually played Alvin Littlefield, owner of the Tropicana, during two episodes in 1952. After playing a Judge in an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in 1958, he would re-team with Lucy for all of her subsequent series’: as Theodore J. Mooney in ”The Lucy Show”; as Harrison Otis Carter in “Here’s Lucy”; and as Curtis McGibbon on “Life with Lucy.” Gordon died in 1995 at the age of 89.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricardo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) does not appear in this episode, although she is mentioned. 

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Alan Reed (Dr. Auerbach) is probably best remembered as the voice of Fred Flintstone. He started his acting career in 1937. He played a cafe owner in “Lucy Visits the White House” (TLS S1;E25) first aired on March 25, 1963. In 1967, he made an appearance on the Desi Arnaz series “The Mothers-in-Law”. He died in 1977 at the age of 69. 

Bea Benadaret (Iris) played Betty Rubble on “The Flintstones” with Reed.  The character was likely named for comic actor Artie Auerbach. In 1938, he announced plans to marry Cleo, Lucille Ball’s cousin. Ball intervened because she was underage, but the couple later married anyway.  Like most psychiatrists on TV and radio, Reed speaks with a German accent, no doubt inspired by Sigmund Freud.  On the television version of “The Inferiority Complex” the psychiatrist was played by Gerard Mohr and the character’s name was Dr. Henry Molin.  

THE EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “Let's look in on the Coopers. It’s evening and they're entertaining George's boss, Mr. Atterbury, and his wife Iris. Dinner is over and the group are now in the living room.”

They discuss what a wonderful meal Liz prepared for them. Mr. Atterbury ate a 17 oysters! He's even got a joke to accompany the oysters, about a deep sea diver and a mermaid, but Iris won't let him tell it in mixed company.

LIZ: “Iris, this company isn’t mixed, it’s married!

Liz decides that she'll try to tell one instead, but she's not very good at telling jokes. She cannot decide whether it is about a man or a woman - or a restaurant or a cafeteria.  Liz can’t remember the punch line, but George impatiently interrupts and tells the joke for her. 

GEORGE: “The woman said I’ll take two pork chops and make them lean. And the waiter said ‘yes, ma’am, which way?’” 

Everyone agrees that Liz can’t tell jokes. She dissolves into tears. 

To change the subject, they decide to play bridge instead. Nobody wants to partner with Liz.  This fuels her feelings of inferiority. 

At breakfast the next day, Liz confesses that she’s not so bright and that she doesn’t do things well.  The breakfast is undercooked, so George tells her to talk to Katie. Liz is in tears again - it is Katie’s day off and she has prepared breakfast herself. She can’t tell jokes, she can’t play bridge, and now she can’t cook. She challenges George to name one thing she’s good at.

GEORGE: “You’re very good at....  Well, your wonderful at... You’re really great at, uh...” LIZ: “Waaah!” GEORGE: “What are you crying for?” LIZ: “I can’t think of anything either.”

Later, Iris drops by and find Liz in bed, depressed. Iris refuses to believe that Liz is a failure.  

IRIS: “You can...  Well, for one thing you’re the best at.... Well, you’ve always been tops in...” LIZ: “Those are the same ones George came up with.”

Iris says that at the very least that there isn’t another person in the world who gets their hair the color Liz does! George comes home from work and is surprised to find Liz still in bed.  He takes Iris aside and says that he will take Liz to a psychiatrist.

At the psychiatrist's office, Dr. Auerbach (Alan Reed) examines Liz. 

DOCTOR: “Lie down on the couch.” LIZ: “Why?” DOCTOR: “I dunno. That’s what they do in the movies.”

Liz can’t find anything interesting about herself to tell the Doctor, so she ask him to tell her something about himself. It isn’t long before he is the patient and she is the therapist. 

In the television version, Ricky convinces the Doctor to pretend to be an old friend, and brings him home instead of Lucy going to his office to provide his ‘treatment’.  Ricky gets jealous of the Doctor’s attentions, but Lucy reminds him it is all part of the “Treatment, Ricky!  Treatment!” 

Later, George invites the Atterburys over to tell them the results of Liz’s exam.  The Doctor suggests they try to restore her confidence by building up her ego.  George tells them that whatever Liz does, they should ‘lay it on thick’.  

MR. ATTERBURY (gushing): “Liz!  Dream girl!” 

Earlier, George also called Liz ‘Dream Girl’.  In 1947, just prior to starting “My Favorite Husband,” Lucille Ball starred in a revival tour of the Edgar Rice play Dream Girl.  

Everything Liz says or does, the others break out in laughter and compliments.  Liz is emboldened by their enthusiasm and keeps telling story after story - until the entire room is nodding off from boredom and it is 2:30 in the morning. 

Liz finally tells them to give it up - she heard George on the telephone with the psychiatrist and she’s been on to their scheme the whole time.  Why did she let them go on for so long?

LIZ: “Because this is the first time in my life I’ve gotten to be the center of attention for the whole evening and I liked it.”

End of Episode