#I’ve only got like three set in stone for me currently

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

Would you guys hate me if I assigned an animal to every les mis character. And I mean EVERY les mis character. If they get a name they’re getting an animal courtesy of my intense need to sort everything into animal counterparts by vibes alone.

[khazadspoon]

Not the fic I should be working on but day 2 for superlantern week

Day 2 - Jungle/Accidental Kiss/ Temple

——

“Is it always this hot here?” Clark asked, stumbling over a root as he followed Green Lantern through the dense jungle. The red sun had made him feel week, a little disoriented, and he didn’t quite know how to deal with the oppressive heat.

“Not always, but mostly. The real problem’s the humidity, or so most middle aged men would tell you.”

Hal used his ring to cut through the thicker vines blocking their way to the temple set up in the middle of the jungle. It loomed overhead, spiralling minarets topped with stained glass domes, seeming both moments ahead and miles away all at once.

“Can I have the water again?”

Hal paused, opened the Guy Gardener themed backpack he had brought with them, and passed the bottle to Clark with a little grin. “It’s hard needing to hydrate so much, huh? I’ve got to admit, it’s been a while since I did any jungle training so… don’t worry, we’re both suffering here.”

“Did you train in places like this in the airforce?” He asked. He didn’t know all that much about Hal’s time in the military.

“Not really, just the once. But I spent a bit of time with some British Marines who trained in Belize. One guy said he spent six months with nothing but a few supply drops and a sniper rifle. Said it was the best six months of his life. Not sure he was telling the whole truth…” Hal continued to slash at the vines, pausing every so often to look back at Clark with growing curiosity. “Didn’t know the suit came apart like that.”

Clark had unfastened the cape almost as soon as they landed, the top half of his suit following shortly after they entered the jungle. He felt slick with sweat and it was starting to get uncomfortable. “I try not to take it off when I’m on duty, but it’s pretty useful.”

“I’ll bet.”

He tried to ignore the sensation of Hal’s eyes on his bare skin. It wasn’t a bad one, he liked how Hal looked at him, like he was a three course meal to savour even if he only had a single bite, but the timing wasn’t exactly great. He’d rather be levelled with that look somewhere less… this.

They reached the temple after another hour of slow progress and Clark almost wept at the cool shade inside the building.

“Now we’ve got to be careful. Kilowog said this place was booby-trapped and I’d really rather not deal with that right- ah.”

Clark stiffened as Hal’s tone became strained. “What? What’s wrong?”

Hal sighed, a put upon sound he only made when something disappointed him. “Think I just stepped on something that clicked. Not a good sign.”

Sure enough, a bright shaft of light erupted from the ceiling. The walls shivered and shook, dust falling as they started closing in.

“I’d say that’s a worse one,” Clark instinctively put his hand out to arrest the wall’s movement and frowned as it did nothing. Right; red sun. “Remind me again why it’s me you decided to bring along?”

“There’s some Kryptonian writing Kilowog said the ring couldn’t translate properly, and since you’re the only Kryptonian currently fluent in the language…”

“Fair enough. Any bright ideas on how we deal with the walls currently trying to literally close in on us?”

Hal nodded and Clark watched the transformation of Hal the talkative joker into Hal Jordan the greatest of the Green Lanterns. His jaw was set firmly, posture straight and sure, arm outstretched as he flicked constructs to life with his mind. They hit the walls, two large rectangular barriers, and the steady movement of the stone stopped.

“There’s a switch somewhere, always is with places like this, look out for anything that looks important and we should be good.”

“And if we don’t find it?”

A short, sharp laugh. “Then we spill are deepest darkest secrets and get ready to meet our makers.”

Clark didn’t feel like laughing. His depowered body was starting to shake a little, adrenaline filling him and tension coiling in his muscles.

He scanned the room for anything that looked ‘important’ and found nothing. Hal looked increasingly frustrated as the minutes passed. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and the domino mask had fallen away. Clark could see the concentration in his eyes and stepped closer.

“Anything?”

“Not yet,” Hal replied, “the ring’s trying to find something now.”

“Guess I should start spilling, huh?”

Hal laughed and flicked his eyes up, meeting Clark’s gaze. “Why, Superman; got something juicy for me?”

“Well I always thought it was a shame you wear that mask, you’re too pretty to cover up all the time. Seems a shame to hide it from us.”

Hal stared at him and blinked slowly. A flush started on his cheeks as he cleared his throat and Clark saw the construct barriers starting to shift inward. The walls were winning out, it seemed.

“I always wanted to see if you were as straight as we all think you are. Y’know, grab your ass or kiss you to see what would happen.”

It was Clark’s turn to laugh. “You think I’m straight?”

“That’s what you got from that?”

Clark laughed again and kissed him, firm and hard, knowing that Hal would come through and get them out but wanting to do it all the same. Hal kissed him back with just as much force, moaning into it and biting at Clark’s lower lip. Maybe it was the threat of imminent death, maybe it was the red sun’s influence, but kissing Hal seemed like the most important thing at that moment.

The ring chimed. A loud ‘thunk’ echoed through the temple and the walls stopped dead in their tracks.

Hal kept kissing him, letting the constructs fall away and taking greedy handfuls of Clark’s chest. Clark shivered and pushed into the touch. He couldn’t feel it the same way as usual, not without his heightened senses, but the pressure was almost overwhelming. It felt heavenly, that touch.

When they parted, Hal was panting heavily. Clark wasn’t faring any better. “So…” he ran his hands up Clark’s chest, palms brushing over Clark’s nipples and sending tantalising shocks up his spine. “You think I’m pretty, huh?”

“I’ll be glad to show you how much as soon as we’re done here. Come on, and let’s try not to get squashed, okay?”

“Sure thing, big fella.”

[positivexcellence]

Jared Padalecki Looks Back on ‘Walker’ Season 2 & Ahead to ‘Independence’

Until then, we have this chat with Mr. Padalecki, who offers a little bit of insight into what is coming next, as well as a lot of laughs about this past season, the show’s Independence spinoff and, of course, a certain former costar’s current (and cheeky) gig.

Sir! How is it going?!

Jared Padalecki: Oh, it’s going. I’m here. Been here, there and everywhere. I have a big birthday next month but we’re gonna be out of the country, so [Padelecki’s wife] Gen had a bunch of our friends fly in…I had a pretty overwhelming weekend of seeing friends from like my high school days, my Gilmore Girl days, my Supernatural days, my Walker days and everything in between. It was awesome.

Nice. And now you’re finished filming everything, right?

We finished about a month ago. And we don’t go back to Season 3 of Walker until August, but I think Independence — I don’t know if it’s set in stone yet — but I think it’s gonna be towards the end of next month that we start in Santa Fe.

Are you gonna back-and-forth it?

I’m gonna try and go to Santa Fe as much as I can, but you know how busy it gets with Walker in Austin during the season, so I might not be able to get out there a whole lot. I hope I do. I’m not in Independence obviously, so I don’t have to be there a whole bunch, but I’d love to be there as a producer and as a friend to the cast and crew and what-not.

It helps that Cordi has been kidnapped because you could be missing for a couple episodes while you’re down in Santa Fe

[Laughs] You know? I’ve been trying to pitch that for months now. I’m like, “Hey, maybe I don’t really resurface until like episode five.” And then I’m gonna be Instagramming me, like, from Spain, having a good old time, you know? Eating prosciutto. And then come home with my pants three sizes bigger.

Oh please, you would just sweat it all off in that Texas heat…that final shot of you guys running, I was like “Mother of God, the cruelty.”

We kinda laugh sometimes, looking at the little weather app on our iPhones and it’ll be like, “Oh, it’s only 101…but the heat index is 106!” And that was just a couple of weeks after I was in that big car accident [in Texas, when Padalecki was a passenger in a car that went over a retaining wall and into a utility pole].

Oh my God. That’s right.

And so I hadn’t really moved around and that scene had already been written long before that. So I was like, “Okay, well I’m gonna give it a shot. I haven’t moved my legs in a while but here we go.” I was really sweating and was not used to running; that was the longest I’ve gone without running in my adult life. So yeah, the sweat was real. That wasn’t makeup. [Laughs]

How are you feeling now from the accident?

I feel great, thank you. Yeah. I feel, I feel great. I was a little banged up up but got up and at it, got through the last three episodes. I probably, I dunno if I’ve really talked about this but, unbeknownst to I think a lot of the viewing audience, they had to rewrite a lot of the scenes in episodes 19 and 20 because I couldn’t film for a couple of weeks. I was kind of bedridden, so yeah. Even with episode 218, which Austin Nichols—our beloved Clint West and my dear friend—directed, they had to kind of take me outta some stuff. It was a beautiful episode and a lot of it luckily happened anyways with the hiking and climbing that Stella and Colton were doing.

You gave us a bit of a scare when Jensen revealed the news.

Yeah, I know. Jensen called me before all of that, because it happened on Easter and then he was at the New York convention the following weekend, which I was supposed to be at, too. But you know, I was on medication that makes you loopy so you don’t want to be trying to do appearances like that. And I also didn’t wanna be tweeting to people, because I don’t think I was making much sense. It might have just even been more frightening to people if I had come out and said like, “Hey, so the other day…I blah blargh blech.” [Laughs] But I am all good now.

Thank God. So you got to close out the season with another great curveball. It was like 45 minutes into the hour, and the Davidson situation is settled, so I started to think “Ok, what is happening now?” And then you give us this nice resolution and then the kidnapping twist! I did not see that coming. I was thinking you were all gonna like run up onto a body somewhere.

That would’ve been great also!

How early into Season 3 will we find out who’s got Cordi?

Very early. Certainly in the Season 3 premiere, we’ll get a glimpse of just how much trouble Cord is in, if there’s any way for him to get out or if he’s gonna need help…and how help would even get to him or find him. We find out quick, much to my chagrin. I kind of pitched that like, “Hey, maybe I’m just kidnapped for like 10 episodes and I have a really long summer.” And they’re like, “No, that’s not really gonna work. The show’s called Walker, so we’re gonna need you.” [Laughs]

Yeah, he needs to be back on duty now that Trey is becoming a Ranger.

If he chooses to follow through with it.

And Liam is becoming a rancher. So we’ll get a scruffy Keegan Allen and Jeff Pierre in uniform. You are really giving the people what they want, you understand?

Right?! [Laughs] With Trey having done so many great heroic, wonderful things, like in Season 1’s tornado and just recently in Season 2, seeing him hop outta helicopters and what-not, it’s clear that he has great skills. We did some research and there is precedent of the Department of Public Safety making allowances for [Rangers]. Usually, you have to be in the DPS for seven years before even being eligible to be a Ranger, but they have made exceptions for special circumstances. And I think we’ve all seen over the last two seasons that the character of Trey Barnett would clearly be a fantastic Ranger. And I wanna see him in the outfit. I wanna see if he can fit all those muscles into the uniform. [Laughs]

And I’m guessing Geri needed to break off things with Cordi because Odette needs to go and be pregnant?

[Laughs] Maybe? I think, outside of O’s personal situation and giving birth, the storyline just seemed to make sense that Geri—who’s been so independent for so long—would go on a personal journey of her own. Finding out that her father wasn’t really her father and that her father kind of killed her father and that she’s kind of a Davidson, but kind of a Walker, like she needs to get her head set on straight. Like when she sold the Side Step and drove off last season? Geri is kind of a lone wolf. As much a she’s loved and as much as she’s part of both the Walker and Davidson families, she is also a strong human being who just needs to reset and approach things with a clean slate. And so we’re gonna see her character take a reset, take a hard reset, and then figure out what she wants to do with the rest of her life.

Are the Davidsons sticking around?

I hope so. Obviously, we’ve seen a lot of sparks between Colton and Stella, we’ve seen Dan (Dave Annable) have redemption of sorts. And Denise and Gale have their own sort of redemption, you know. I think part of the whole [theme] of the series Walker, this one, is that no one’s perfect, right? Everyone makes mistakes and everyone can take steps to try and make things better, make things right. So I love the idea of the Davidsons sticking around and us seeing their journey to redemption.

And now Cassie…love her.

Love her. Amazing.

Ashley Reyes is so great. I wanna see you guys work more together.

Me too! And Ashley, as a human being, I just love the shit out of her. She is just an awesome young actress.When we were casting the character, we had seen God knows how many audition tapes. These days in Covid, it’s done via Zoom or you log in to watch test auditions. Finally, when we were getting towards the very end of the casting process, we had a call and they’re like, “Hey, we really like this actress. We haven’t sent her to y’all yet because she’s five-two and Jared’s six-five, but give her a look because we love her.” And so we watched her tape and we were like, ” Damn it, she’s it!” Then we had a Zoom read, Ashley, me and a bunch of the other execs and they were like, “Yep, that’s it. Let’s get her to Texas.”

She’s charming and she’s funny and she brings a nice lighthearted aspect. Ashley, along with Matt Pascua, who plays her brother, are just wonderful people, wonderful actors…they really flesh out the entire Walker world.

That’s what I really love, the way the show’s universe really did expand this season. The way we saw connections among the characters develop…Bonham (Mitch Pileggi) and Abby having that connection with the Davidsons and having that history. It’s like they could have had their own show that would’ve aired 20 years ago and this season was almost like the recap of that.

That’s an amazing way to put it. And yeah, I would watch the Bonham and Abby show, all day, every day. All they’ve been through, their acceptance of each other, their forgiveness and their frustrations. When you have actors like Mitch and Molly, you can have ’em read a phone book and it would be compelling, so what they’ve done, alongside the writers, has just been a special joy to me. And another thing, you know, watching the show in my capacity as executive producer — I’ll watch the dailies and what-not — but a lot of the scenes that take place between Bonham and Abby Walker, I’m not there on set for, you know? I’ve read the script obviously and know they’re shooting that scene that day, but I don’t see it until later when I see it on camera and I’m always like, “Holy s–t, this is good….they’re so good.”

Oh we totally ‘ship them. Now, are you ready to be the lead of a show and the executive producer of that show and launch a second show? Are you ready to juggle it all?

As you ask that question, I started profusely sweating.

Sorry!

[Laughs] No, I can’t wait. Fortunately for me, a lot of the load goes to Anna Fricke and Seamus Kevin Fahey, who’s running Independence. So I just have to kind of be there to go like, “Guys, this is badass. And guys, this is badass, too.” I can’t wait and I’m so thrilled for that cast and crew.

Kat McNamara is an absolute delight.

You know how I was mentioning before, because these days during Covid, that you can’t really cast people in person? So when you’re casting No. 1 of the call sheet, that is who’s gonna to be the person that’s there every day and that’s doing interviews on the weekends and doing photo shoots in between takes and this and that. Well, we did our research. We called other shows she had worked on, other actors she had worked with, other producers and writers and — to a person — they all just sang her praises. They were all like, “Oh my God, she’s wonderful.” And like, in that way of “Please don’t hire her because we want her,” [Laughs]

I just spoke to one of your friends, Mr. Eric Kripke over at The Boys and he said that you have an open invitation to come over and make a cameo.

No s–t! Oh my God, I would love to. I’d have to start doing some squats though so I would be ready to show my naked ass.

Yeah, how about that?! But if it’s a cameo, you probably won’t have to go that bare, but you never know with that show.

[Laughs] Well, I mean, if I’m gonna do it, I’ll have to do it right, you know? I can’t just show up and have a suit on.

You can’t let Jensen be the only one showing off his butt.

Correct. I mean they all get it, so if I’m gonna fly all the way up to Toronto, then I may as well make it count.

Exactly. Again, giving the people what they want.

[Laughs] Well, we’ll see. It’ll be my 40-year-old ass!

Tv Insider

[cutegayorc]

Adopted by a Werewolf Chapter 4

I'm really sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. It turns out writing scenes involving a character having a panic attackc and then lead to you yourself having a panic attack. Fun! Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I've already finished chapter 5, I've just got to finish editing. Also I've been picking up some editing tips from random parts of the internet so if my editing changes from chapter to chapter, that's not random. Apologies for those who like consitency. I'm a bit of a messy bitch that way.

Editor Credits Perky: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/perk0/ Lan the Orc: https://lantheorc.sofurry.com/ ------

Druid’s Falls was far smaller than Bright Rock. Bright Rock felt like three small cities pushed together. The slums, old town and new town. But Druid’s Falls was a small village with one winding road. The small cabins were built up against the nearby woods and a logging camp stood at the end of the road where the majority of the village worked. Parts of the woods had been cleared leaving only stumps. Other parts, there were holes where stumps used to be. Lastly there were areas where the holes left by the stumps had been filled and new baby trees had been planted. Rodrig and Jeremiah passed by all of this. The people waved as they passed. Jeremiah always waved back with a big smile. Rodrig tried to do the same, but it felt awkward. He worried people were judging him for riding on the cart. Even if he did have a legitimate reason to be doing so. Once they had passed the last cabin, they made a left turn from the main road into the forest. Rodrig wondered why they didn’t stop at the inn he saw before. Especially since the place they did eventually stop was far out of the way. 

Four buildings sat by each other. Two cottages, one large and one small, sat by each other and behind them was a barn which currently housed a small horse. Lastly was a circular stone building with a large wood stove next to it, large pipes connecting into the side of the building. 

They stopped in front of the large cottage but before Jeremiah could approach and knock, a tiny olive skinned woman popped out the door and onto the porch. Her face was wrinkled in that way where you know she was the type to always smile and oh when she smiled at seeing their arrival. All of those creases on her face falling into place as she irradiated an energy like the sun. 

“Big wolf!” She called. Her accent was heavy, Over-pronouncing the o in wolf.

“Granny!” Jeremiah called back and opened his arms. She jumped from the porch and landed in his arms giving him tiny kisses all over his face. He laughed and they swung around in a circle. 

“You are back so quick.” She said as Jeremiah set her down. She barely reached past his waist. 

“There were some complications,” Jeremiah began to explain. “Quick extraction was necessary. Have you heard from the Watcher of Bright Rock?”

“I have heard nothing,” She said. “That man is an asshole. He wouldn’t talk to me unless it was for business.” 

Jeremiah's normal happy confident mask fell for just a moment as he showed genuine worry for something. What, Rodric couldn’t know. He was still processing everything that had been revealed. But Jeremiah quickly slipped the mask back on and was back to being a confident and fearless statue. 

As Rodric finally hobbled over, the small woman took notice.

“Is this the boy you were sent to retrieve? What happened? Why is he limping?” 

“Yes and I’ll explain everything in a minute.” Jeremiah said, leading the woman over to where Rodrig was standing. 

“Rodrig,” Jeremiah said, “This is Lama Gajudo. She’s what we call a Watcher.” 

“What does she watch?” Jeremiah asked, looking around for anything of interest. 

“My job is not to watch the forest. It won’t be here much longer with all the logging.” Lama said. She sneered at the mention of the logging. 

“She watches for possible Sensitives or Adepts.” Jeremiah said. “She’s also a healer. I was hoping she could give you an examination to make sure your leg is okay.” 

Rodrig nodded but didn’t say anything. He just felt agitated for some reason he couldn’t quite grasp. Especially now that all eyes were on him. 

“Until I know the damage, I don’t want you walking on that leg.” Lama said. “Woolfy, you carry him to my exam room.” 

“I don’t need somebody to carry me.” Rodrig grumbled to himself. 

“It’s okay.” Jeremiah said. “It’s no bother. I can handle your weight no problem.” 

Rodrig wasn’t worried about Jeremiah being able to support his weight. He just didn’t like the idea of being carried. When Jeremiah walked over to him, Rodrig tensed up. He was about to try and beat the man away with the makeshift walking stick. Before he could make his move however, Jeremiah scooped him up into his arms. Rodrig dropped the walking stick by mistake. His weapon now gone, Rodrig was forced to be carried like a bride over the veil. He felt his entire face heat up as a deep blush covered his face. He covered himself so that no one could see him turn red. A deep rumble came from Jeremiah’s chest that vibrated against Rodrig. There was a sense of satisfaction in that rumbling growl. Rodrig’s face burned brighter. So did the unexplainable exasperation that was forming in his chest. It spread to his arms and made them tingle. 

Jeremiah carried Rodrig up the steps to the porch and through the door into the cabin. The room was astonishingly tidy. Everything seemed to have its place. There was a small living area with a table with four coasters ready to place a glass on in case company wanted to have a drink of coffee while they sat and chat. In the back was a kitchen kept pristine and a dining table with 4 chairs. Towards their right were two doors. They took the one closer to them and were in another overly well kept room. In one corner was a small desk with and a bookshelf covered in books. In the middle of the room was a flat table with cushioning on it. An examination table like they had at the academy. Nearby was a stool which Lama sat in. Jeremiah carefully lowered Rodrig onto the end of the exam table before stepping back and standing in the corner. 

“Can you put your leg on the table for me dear?” Lama asked. “I need it level to examine it.” 

Rodrig did as he was told, letting her move his ankle back and forth, gauging his reaction as she did. 

“How did you hurt it?” Lama asked. 

“Someone stomped on it.” Rodrig said after a moment's pause. He didn’t want to relive how he got the injury so he kept it brief. 

“Been doing much walking on it?” 

“No, ma’am.” 

“So polite.” She smiled. “I remember the first time I met another young man, he was far less polite.” She gave an over the top stink eye towards Jeremiah. The type where you could tell it was in jest.

“You wound me.” Jeremiah said back. He clutched his chest and made a dramatic grunting sound.

“Hush you!” she said back holding back a laugh. 

Rodrig watched, feeling awkward. Any time he had tried to have a friendly conversation like that, it usually ended with him being ridiculed for trying to join in. So he kept his mouth shut. It was safer that way.

Lama turned back towards Rodrig. Her smile was still there. She kept it on even when she noticed Rodrig wasn’t smiling back. 

“It’s nothing bad. Just a sprain. Stay off it for a bit and keep it elevated. Now let's take a look at what’s under that bandage on your face. Lay down so I can get a better look.” Rodrig did as he was instructed, scooching himself further up the examination table so he could lay flat. The ends of his feet still dangled off the edge but beyond that it was pretty comfy. She removed the bandage. Her smile went away. 

“How did you get this?” She asked. 

Rodrig tried to answer but found that no sound was coming out. He opened and closed his mouth multiple times. Was he going to have to go over everything? Right as it was about to be too much, right when his eyes started to burn with the feeling of tears starting to form, Jeremiah came to his rescue. 

“It was a knife wound.” Jeremiah said. “He also has one on his back. Although that one is from a rapier. It’s not as deep but goes over a wider area. I can go over the how later if need be.” 

Lama didn’t say anything right away, processing the information. She kept her face blank. A strange thought crossed Rodrig’s mind through the depression and the anguish. He thought that she would have made a great poker player. The funny little thought brought a little bit of levity. His own little private joke. It helped to calm him down a little bit. 

“These stitches, were they you Big Wolf?” Lama asked. 

“Yes.” Jeremiah said.

“You have improved since I last tutored you. It seems to be healing well. But I would like to get some salve on it, to speed the process along.” 

She hopped off her stool and went to a nearby cabinet. She pulled out a small handheld jar and came back. 

“This is my own personal healing salve,” Lama said as she popped the top off the jar. Rodrig could smell an earthy scent fill the air. It reminded him of the smell of vines that he once had to pull out of his mothers garden. “A little bit along the cut and then we replace the bandage.” 

She placed her finger in the jar and it came out covered in what looked like mud. As she spread it across the wound, the smell of vegetation grew. It was cold. Once she was  done applying the goop, she applied a new bandage. 

“Okay, now let’s see the one on the back.”  Lama said. “Shirt off and on your belly.” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Rodrig said. “It feels fine.” 

“It’s not.” Jeremiah said. “I didn’t want to alarm you but it smells infected.” 

Rodrig grew pale. Lama cleared her throat.

“Shirt off or I make the wolf rip it off.” Lama threatened. 

Rodrig did as he was told, stripping his shirt off and turned himself over. He re-used his shirt as a pillow for his head while he waited for the old woman to do her work. She had to stand on her stool to see the whole thing. She tisked a few times before prescribing more plant goop. Again she slathered the goop against his skin. This time it stung as she applied it. But then a cooling feeling started to cover his back. She then applied a bandage, replacing the wraps that had covered the cut from before. 

“You’re going to need to keep applying the salve until it heals. I’ll make sure to send some with you.” Lama said before stepping down. Rodrig pushed himself up and put his shirt back on. “Now, why don’t you come and have a pot of tea with me.” 

----

Jeremiah sipped at his tea. It was strong. Lama always made it that way. He watched as Rodrig took a sip and then immediately scrunched up his face. The young man was quick to return his face to a neutral look. Jeremiah had noticed that Rodrig liked to put on a neutral face like a mask. It didn’t do much to hide from Jeremiah since he could hear his heartbeat and smell the changes in his body chemistry. Plus there were the tiny twitches and quirks of body language. But in front of normal humans, it would have been perfect. The next time Rodrig took a sip, the mask stayed on. But there was a twitch along his brow indicating he didn’t like the taste. 

“Thank you for the tea.” Rodrig said. 

“It’s my pleasure.” Lama said to Rodrig before turning to Jeremiah. “I’m assuming you will be staying tonight?”

“Yes Granny.” Jeremiah said. “If it’s not too much trouble, I was hoping we could use your bath too.” 

“I was going to insist.” Lama said. “We need to get the dirt and sweat off your young ward’s wounds. Do you remember how to turn it on?” 

“Yes. I’ll help Rodrig with-” Jeremiah began to say. 

“Don’t pick me up!” Rodrig interrupted, tensing up. 

“Okay.” Jeremiah said. He was trying not to laugh at the sudden outburst. Jeremiah made a mental note that embarrassment made Rodrig drop his mask. Probably not the best way to get him to drop his guard so he would have to keep looking for other ways to get him to open up.  “But we can’t have you walking on that foot. Let me at least be your crutch. Deal?” 

Rodrig didn’t answer right away. But he finally nodded. 

“I’ll have some food waiting in the guest cabin for when you are done bathing.” Lama said. “I’ll also need you to reapply more of the salve once you’re done. I’ll leave the jar with the food. Try not to mix up the food and the salve. Don’t get my wrong, the salve is technically edible. But it probably won’t taste too good. Even if you spread it on bread.” 

Jeremiah had no doubt that she had tried the salve on bread once just to see. She was eccentric like that. He chuckled and headed over to Rodrig, offering his hand to help the young lad up. Rodrig eyed the hand then looked up and met Rodrig’s gaze. Rodrig quickly looked away, a small amount of red tinging his cheeks. Jeremiah didn’t comment, instead hanging him his makeshift walking stick. 

They slowly made their way out the door. They made their way over to the small circular building made of brick. There was a small stove to the side. 

“You can head inside and start getting undressed.” Jeremiah said. “I’ll load the stove with wood.” 

“How does it work?” Rodrig asked. 

“The pipes here are connected to an underground stream.” Jeremiah began to explain. “When you turn this lever, the water flows up and goes into this reservoir. The stove heats up the water and then you turn a nob in there to let the water out of the reservoir.” 

“Won’t it take a while for the water in the reservoir to heat up?”

“Not as long as you would think. Now go on, there should be some towels in there already.”

Rodrig did as he was told. When he opened it, he stopped. 

“It’s really dark in there.” Rodrig said. 

“There should be candles inside. There is a match box on a shelf right by the door.” 

Rodrig stepped inside. Jeremiah heard the sound of a match lighting and then a sudden gasp. Rodrig must have seen the huge stone tub. It had surprised Jeremiah the first time he saw it too. Jeremiah got to work filling the reservoir with water before starting the work on filling the stove with wood. He then lit the flames with flint and steel, sparking a small flame which quickly consumed the wood and became an inferno. Jeremiah closed the stove before heading towards the entrance to the stone cylinder.

Inside and slightly sunken into the floor was a large stone tub shaped like a bowl with a drain at the bottom. Rodrig stood there still dressed. He had just got done lighting the candles tucked away in the sconces on the walls. He waved the match in his hands to put it out before tossing it in a nearby rubbish bin. 

“Why does she have something like this out in the middle of the forest?” Rodrig said motioning towards the tub. “I would expect something like this in some rich man’s mansion.” 

“Well I wouldn’t call her rich but Granny is pretty wealthy.” Jeremiah said. “She’s a famous healer. That salve she gave you is the same stuff used by some royals.” Rodrig had pulled his shirt off half way before he stopped. He looked mortified. 

“You let her use that on me?” Rodrig said. “B-b-but I’m just me!” 

“So?” Jeremiah said, enjoying Rodrig’s reaction a bit too much. “Believe it or not, the bodies of kings and queens are exactly the same as yours.” 

“But if they use it, it must be expensive.” Rodrig said in a whisper. “I can’t even afford to pay you back for everything you’ve done so far. How am I supposed to pay her for world famous healing goop?” 

“It’s fine.” Jeremiah said as he stripped off his shirt. “It’s part of her job to help heal those with supernatural abilities we rescue. It’s all paid for by our organization.” 

“Nothing is free.” Rodrig said. “Somebody is going to want the money for that junk and when I can’t pay, it’s going to be taken out of my hide. I’ve seen what is done to people who can’t pay back their debt. I’m not using that stuff again. No way.” 

Rodrig’s heart rate had become like a war drum. Loud and fast. It almost hurt Jeremiah’s sensitive ears. He tried to think of ways to distract him. Then an evil thought entered his head. 

Jeremiah dropped his pants. 

---

Rodrig was about to give another really good reason why using healing salve was a terrible idea. Images of men who owed money to those more powerful being beaten in the street in front of their own children came to mine. Then for the briefest of moments, his eyes caught sight of Jeremiah’s rather large cock and balls. He immediately turned around, his entire body humming as blood suddenly rushed to his face. There was definitely no denying his worst fears. He was attracted to a man who could turn into a beast. It also meant that bathing together was out of the question. 

“Maybe I should go.” Rodrig said. But he didn’t move, because Jeremiah was standing in the way of the only door out. There wouldn’t be enough room for him to pass by him towards the door. Not without pressing up against the big, hairy, muscly, handsome...Rodrig thought to himself that he was completely and utterly fucked. 

“Nonsense.” Jeremiah said. Rodrig heard the sound of the tap being turned and the sound of water running. The room suddenly jumped in temperature as the warm water began to fill the room with steam. “If we take turns, there won’t be enough hot water. Besides, the tub is more than big enough for both of us. Now get undressed.” 

Rodrig stood still. 

“You’ve got thirty seconds before I come over there and rip those clothes off myself” Jeremiah said. 

“Then turn around, you big perv!” Rodrig said making eye contact and making sure to keep his eye line above the waist. 

“Okay. But if i don’t hear the sound of you hitting the water in the next minute, I'm coming for you.” Jeremiah turned around. Rodrig tried really hard not to take a peak at Jeremiah’s ass. He failed. It was big and had a thin layer of fuzz on it. Rodrig’s mouth went dry.

“Time’s half up.” Jeremiah said, snapping Rodrig out of his daze. Rodrig quickly stripped his shirt off before tossing it to the floor. He dropped his pants next before kneeling down. Getting in the tub with one ankle was an interesting maneuver but he figured it out. 

“HOT, HOT, HOT!” Rodrig screamed as he realized the mistake of just plopping himself down into the water. 

“There, was that so bad?” Jeremiah said. 

Rodrig heard the sound of Jeremiah also lowering himself into the water. Meanwhile, Rodrig was busy taking deep steady breaths, his eyes clenched shut as he waited for his body to get used to the water. Eventually the searing pain subsided and the water just felt warm and comforting. He sighed in relief. 

“Hand out. I’m passing you a bar of soap.” Jeremiah said. 

Rodrig did as he was told, keeping his eyes averted so as not to see his tub-mate. The bar of soap was placed in his hand with a washcloth. Rodrig got right to work scrubbing his arms. 

“I don’t want you to worry about the cost of all this.” Jeremiah said.

“But I-” Rodrig began to say back.

“Let me finish saying this first.” Jeremiah interrupted. There was a sharp authority to his voice that made Rodrig shut his mouth. A feeling of needing to obey swept over him. It was familiar. Like that first night when they met at the bar. A part of him wanted to tell Jeremiah to shut up. To leave him alone. But he held it back and pushed those emotions in a little box in the back of his head like he always did. Nothing but pain ever came from confronting people.

“I’m part of a rather large group of supernatural beings.” Jeremiah said. “We don’t have an official name or anything like that. Originally it was formed out of a need for survival. Different leaders of packs and covens would mee to share information and resources. Help each other to stay safe and prosper in a world where we were hunted. But then, one of our own saved a prince. It was an accident really. The witch didn’t know the person he was saving was royalty. He just saw that someone was in trouble. That random act of kindness spurred a partnership that still exists today.

“The Prince vouched for the supernatural community to his mother, the then Queen. Said that the majority of supernatural beings were just like them, people trying to survive. The Queen, wise beyond her years, saw an opportunity for a partnership. She would offer certain supernatural groups that weren’t a threat protection and land. In exchange they would offer services to the people and the crown.

“My coming to retrieve you is one of those services. Now this next part I don’t say to scare you but to make you understand the why. People like you, Sensitives, if left alone are more often than not taken in by dark elements. Sensitives, because of the nature of their soul, are malleable. They can become hosts to many dark things. Often against their will. Then they become a danger to everyone around them. 

“So yes, there is a cost to all of this. The travel. The food. The medicine. But it’s a price that the crown gladly pays to keep the peace.”

Rodrig thought over all this information. The soap and cloth were forgotten as he sat there processing all this new information. He looked up and saw Jeremiah on the opposite end of the tub. He was sitting watching him. His hair wet and plastered against his body. He smiled at Rodrig, giving him a chance to process the information. A dark thought crossed his mind and it came out before he could stop himself. “Wouldn’t it be cheaper to just kill me?” 

Jeremiah’s smile dropped. The look of sorrow and pity made Rodrig need to turn away.

“I don’t believe you would say something so vile because you have a cruel heart.” Jeremiah said. “I believe you said it because you’re hurting so much that death feels like it would be a release. But hear me now. I would never entertain something so cruel as to murder someone for something they have no control over. So no Rodrig. I won’t kill you. I will not come for you expecting payment for services rendered. What I do, I don’t do so expecting payment. I do these things because I believe in our cause.” 

“But what sort of life will I be able to lead if I’m a danger?” Rodrig said. He felt bitter. Some of the anger he had bottled up pushed through. 

Jeremiah sighed. A moment passed before he spoke again. 

“I used to be a Sensitive too.” Jeremiah said. 

“You what?” Rodrig said. All the thoughts in his head came crashing to a halt as he focused completely on the man opposite him. 

“The hole in your spirit that I mentioned the other day, it can also be inhabited by benevolent beings.” Jeremiah said. “When we save a Sensitive, we don’t just keep them in a dungeon away from society. You’re given a choice. Some choose to remain as they are. For those, we have places where they can stay that are warded against evil beings. Some though, like myself, choose to open their soul up for residency to a spirit to form a symbiotic relationship.”

Rodrig sat there stunned. He slowly sank into the water until it covered everything but the top of his head, breathing through his nose as the water covered his mouth. Jeremiah began to lather up his body while Rodrig processed things. This reminded Rodrig he too needed to start scrubbing himself and grabbed the soap from the edge of the tub and got to work himself. 

“You said you were a Sensitive. Are you not anymore?” 

Jeremiah’s smile returned.

“Senstives in the supernatural community are kind of like caterpillars. They are just the start of what could be. Just like how a butterfly is no longer a caterpillar after it cocoons itself, once a Sensitive takes on a spirit and creates a permanent bond, they turn into something else. For example, when I chose to accept the gift of the werewolf, my soul became one with a wolf spirit.” 

“Oh.” Rodrig said. He was suddenly very curious about all the different types of being out there. Then he realized he had washed all he could that wasn’t submerged in the water. “I need to wash my...lower half. Could you look away for a second.” 

Jeremiah rolled his eyes, but he did as was asked. Rodrig stood up and started washing his legs.

“How were you turned?” Rodrig asked while lathering up his legs. 

“I was bitten while under the full moon.” Jeremiah said. 

“Did it hurt?” Rodrig asked. He briefly wondered if these questions were becoming too personal. 

“A little,” Jeremiah said. “I still remember it to this day. I was scared but excited at the same time. The bite hurt like hell, but right after it happened, my body grew limp and suddenly I wasn’t there anymore. I was somewhere else. Not physically. The witches call it spirit walking, when your senses temporarily leave your body. My soul was taken to a forest and I was surrounded by wolves. The man who bit me was also there. We walked through the forest with the wolves and one at a time I was introduced to the spirits until I found one that my soul resonated with. It was like meeting someone for the first time and knowing this, this, this. This right here is my best friend. My literal soulmate. And then we merged.”

The way Jeremiah talked about the event filled Rodrig with awe. He sounded so happy. Rodrig couldn’t think of a single memory that filled him with that much joy. 

“I still have the scar. If you would like to see.” Jeremiah said. 

“Really?” Rodrig asked. He then scolded himself for sounding so excited. 

“Sure, it’s here on my right shoulder.” Jeremiah said. He came a little closer before turning around, moving his long black hair to his left shoulder so that Rodrig could easily see the bite mark. It was scarred over, multiple little dots on his skin where the teeth would have pierced his flesh. 

For a moment, Rodrig imagined Jeremiah placing his mouth along Rodrig’s neck. He then froze and slowly backed away. He scolded himself for letting such a perverted thought enter his mind. He sank back into the water as nonchalantly as he could. “Thank you for showing me.” Rodrig mumbled.

“No problem.” Jeremiah said. He stood up without warning, giving Rodrig a sudden very close and personal view of Jeremiah’s ass. 

“Welp, I'm getting all pruny. I think I'm done washing up.” Jeremiah said. He stepped out of the tub. Rodrig told himself he should look away but couldn’t bring himself to. He wanted to touch that butt. Those arms. That chest. Jeremiah began to towel off, not worrying about the fact his nudity was on full display. Finally Jeremiah wrapped the towel around his waist and started walking towards him before offering his hand. 

“Here, let me help you out. Don’t worry, I won’t look.” Jeremiah said. 

-----

Jeremiah lied. He did in fact look. In his defense though, the human half of him felt really bad about it. The wolf half did not give a shit and was a lecherous asshole. Or at least that’s what Jeremiah told himself after watching Rodrig get dressed out of the corner of his eye. Rodrig was a bit skinny for his height. Something that Jeremiah had noticed before. Jeremiah wondered if maybe before joining the guard academy, he was malnourished. Rodrig also appeared to have a few scars on his ass and back. They were old scars, having faded a bit. Given that Rodrig was just barely an adult, he would have had to have received them during childhood. A lot of his mannerisms started to make sense. They were defense mechanisms learned from a hard childhood. 

Beyond that though, he seemed overall healthy. Minimal body hair though. Well except for the bush around his balls. They hung low and swung around while Rodrig pulled his underwear back on. Jeremiah couldn’t help but notice the small hard on he had to. A dark part of his mind got enjoyment from knowing that it was his body that had aroused Rodrig. The other part of his mind chastised him for thinking such things at such a time. 

When Rodrig turned around to grab his shirt, Jeremiah quickly looked away and played the part of the innocent wolfman who was not secretly a Peeping Tom. 

“Why do I feel so exhausted?” Rodrig said more to himself than to Jeremiah. “I’ve been sitting in a cart all day. Why do I just want to pass out.” 

“You’ve had a long couple of days.” Jeremiah said. “Your body is still recovering from the physical and emotional stress.” 

Rodrig sighed but didn’t say anything more. The two left the bath to find a pair of crutches waiting for Rodrig. 

“Guess you won’t need me to carry you around anymore.” Jeremiah said in a joking manner.

“That must be a relief for you. Don’t have to lug me around anymore.” Rodrig said completely serious. 

It was in fact not a relief. Jeremiah’s wolf practically purred any time their bodies touched. Just like it had done with his three sons before he bit them. The wolf sensed Rodrig’s compatibility. It wanted to make the man pack. But that wasn’t how this worked. So he held back. 

“You aren’t as heavy as you think you are.” Jeremiah said before giving a well practiced fake laugh. Rodrig grunted.

Jeremiah kicked himself a little for trying too hard. Rodrig was clearly at the end of his emotional rope. His movements were slow. His shoulders were slumped and he had a look of someone who was about ready to pass out. 

“Come on, the guest cabin is this way.” Jeremiah said, leading Rodrig to the smaller of the two cabins.

The guest cabin didn’t have a porch like the bigger one so there was no need to worry about navigating stairs to make it through the front door. The room had two rather large beds against the opposite wall, freshly made and ready for an occupant. In between the space left between the two beds was a small table with two chairs. On said table were two bowls of steaming hot soup, a large loaf of bread, butter and a jar of what Jeremiah assumed was the healing salve Lama said she would leave for them. 

A grumbling sound came from both Rodrig and Jeremiah’s stomach at the same time.

“I think our bodies are telling us they are sick of travel rations.” Jeremiah said. “Come on. Let’s eat.” 

---

Rodrig belched. Everything was delicious. Except the healing salve. They did not eat the healing salve. After dinner, Jeremiah grabbed the salve and popped the top off the jar. 

“Shirt off. Back to me.” Jeremiah said. 

Rodrig grunted but did as he was told. Jeremiah applied the goop to the cut on his back before retying the wrap holding a fresh cloth over the cut. 

“Anything else?” Rodrig said, sounding a little more grumpy then he meant to.

“Just your face. Do you want me to do it for you?” 

“No, I can do it myself.” Rodrig grabbed the jar and peeled the bandage off his face before applying some of the salve on his cheek. Jeremiah handed him a new bandage which Rodrig applied to his face a little less gracefully than normal. 

“Let’s get you to bed.” Jeremiah said, looking like he was trying not to laugh. Rodrig gave him a death stare but didn’t argue. Instead he went over to the bed and got under the sheets. He didn’t even notice falling asleep. 

Not until he woke up and the room was suddenly darker. The only light came from a candle on the nearby table. He was under the sheets. He didn’t remember getting under the sheets. Jeremiah must have tucked him in. The realization made Rodrig feel like trash. He shouldn’t have needed someone to take care of him like that. He should have taken care of himself. This feeling of helplessness was driving him crazy. He told himself he needed to apologize for Jeremiah having to take care of him like a kid.  He looked around the room for Jeremiah, but he wasn’t there. There was a note next to the candle though. Rodrig stretched out his back and legs before grabbing the crutches and hobbling his way over to the table. 

“Went on a midnight run. If you hear howling, don’t worry. That’s just me.” The note read. 

Rodrig sat down next to the note. He wondered if Jeremiah was talking about a regular run or if Jeremiah had shifted. Then he saw Jeremiah’s pants and shirt by the door and realized it was probably a wolf run. Unless  Jeremiah liked to run around the forest naked. That brought images from earlier in the day popping up in his head. Rodrig had to pinch himself to get his mind off of a naked Jeremiah running through the woods naked. 

“No. Not happening.” Rodrig told himself. “Not one bit. Get that out of your head right now.” 

A scratching sound came at the door. Rodrig jumped as the sudden noise startled him. He knocked the table with his leg and the candle began to fall. Rodrig grabbed it at the last minute, putting it back in place. He yelped in pain as a second later his brain registered that he now had burning hot candle wax smeared on his hand. He waved it back and forth to try and get the wax off. 

The scratching came again. Rodrig stood up, holding his crutch above his head ready to strike as he looked towards the door. Then he heard a low canine whine. The first thought that came to Rodrig’s head was that Jeremiah was outside the door. He became worried. Should he open the door? Would Jeremiah be the monster that chased him through the woods? Or would he be full wolf? Was he about to see Jeremiah transform? The idea was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. 

He was distracted by the sound of loud popping and guttural growls that slowly morphed into groans. As the groans slowly morphed from beastly to human, Rodrig began to realize that voice didn’t belong to Jeremiah. There was a werewolf on the other side of the door. One he didn’t know and in a few seconds, it would have the ability to open the door. 

He quickly hobbled over to the door, his crutch forgotten. He slammed into the door and quickly pushed the deadbolt in place. He then slid down to the floor, suddenly finding it hard to stay standing. He sat with his back to the door, covering his mouth and nose to try and calm his breathing.

The popping and grunting stopped and a second later, a fist pounded on the other end of the door. 

“Jeremiah.” an unknown voice said. The accent sounded like it came from one of the countries from the west. “Open the door. It’s Alfonse.” 

The doorknob turned and whoever was on the other end tried to push the door open. The door jiggled with more force than he thought. Then there was silence. And then a low growl. 

“I can hear your heart beating on the other side of this door.” The voice said. A low snarl followed. “Tell me where Jeremiah is or I will rip this door off its hinges.”

Rodrig turned around and started pushing himself away from the door. His arms had goosebumps and his chest felt like it had a weight in it. His forehead was wet with sweat.

“What do you want?” Rodrig finally was able to call out. 

“I want to know where my father is!” The man’s voice roared through the door. “I can smell his scent! He was here! What did you do with him!” 

The door started to shake as the hinges groaned. Rodrig found himself hiding under the table, holding onto one of the legs for dear life. The hinges slowly were ripped from their hinges. The sound of splintering and cracking wood roared through the cabin. The door fell inward and crashed to the ground, shaking the floor. Standing in the doorway was a naked man, but his body wasn’t normal. Large patches of light brown fur covered his arms, chest and legs. His hands were tipped with large black claws. His mouth hung open as it panted for air. His teeth were long and sharp. His eyes glowed a deep crimson red. Rodrig briefly met the man beast’s eyes. The mystery man took one step forward. Rodrig was frozen, his entire body tensed up. There were no coherent thoughts going on in his mind at that time. Just the emotion of pure terror. 

“Alfonse?” Jeremiah's voice said. 

The wolf man stopped in his tracks and turned around. Standing behind the stranger was Jeremiah, also nude. He was looking at Alfonse. Then Rodrig. Then Alfonse again.

“Jeremiah?” the stranger said. The fur and claws began to shrink away as the man returned to a normal human. He ran out of the cabin and jumped into Jeremiah’s arms. 

“What are you doing here?” Jeremiah asked. 

The stranger said something Rodrig couldn’t hear, his face buried in Jeremiah’s shoulder. Rodrig’s body was moving on its own at that point. He crawled to a door he hadn’t opened yet. He fumbled with the doorknob before flinging it open. It was an empty closet. He threw himself in and closed the door before curling into a ball in the dark closet and trembling as he started sobbing.

---

“What are you doing here?” Jeremiah asked his first son. 

“We got the report that Bright Rock had attacked their watcher.” Alfonse mumbled into his shoulder. “They have declared all supernaturals to be enemies to be killed on sight. Nobody knew if you were safe or not. I ran after you as soon as I heard the news.” His youngest son’s voice was moving quickly and was filled with breathy sobs. He hugged the man, patting him on the head. 

Alfonse was about as tall as Jeremiah. He wasn’t quite as muscle bound as he was but still quite large compared to most men. His bright red hair was cut short, otherwise it began to curl into a mop. He had a small amount of stubble on his chin. It prickled against Jeremiah’s neck as Alfonse rubbed his head against him.

The sound of a slam pulled both of them out of the moment. Alfonse let go of Jeremiah and they both looked around. Rodrig was no longer under the table. Jeremiah took a step into the cabin, looking around. He could hear the soft sounds of sobbing and a heartbeat that was beating like a drum at the summer festival. It was coming from the closet.

“Damn it.” Jeremiah said. 

“What is going on?” Lama called out. She was peering out the window from her cabin and was wearing a matching nightgown and nightcap. “Why are you naked? What is Angry Wolf doing here? AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE DOOR?”

“It was...I just–” Alfonse stammered back. 

While Lama proceeded to scream at Alfonse, Jeremiah began to approach the closet door. Rodrig’s breathing was uneven, he was hyperventilating.  

“Rodrig?” Jeremiah called through the door. “It’s okay. It was just a misunderstanding. I promise. You’re safe.” 

Jeremiah grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open as he slowly started to open the door. It suddenly was pulled close. 

“Get away from me!” Rodrig screamed through the door. 

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay.” Jeremiah said, pushing a bit of the Wild into his voice. Trying to push calming energy into the words. 

“Stop it! Stop using your fucking magic on me!” Rodrig screamed. The Wild being repelled back at him. It was laced with pure panic.

“Rodrig, I-” 

“Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up! Get out of my head! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! JUST GO!” Rodrig’s voice tore from the closet. There was a pounding sound on the door, like Rodrig was slamming his fist against it. 

“I’ll be outside if you need me.” Jeremiah said as softly as he could while still being loud enough that Rodrig would hear before backing away and heading outside. 

“Granny, I’ll fix it. I swear.” Alfonse said. He now wore a pair of pants. Alfonse must have brought his wolf pack, a special backpack that could fit on the back of a wolf and carry some clothes and money. It was usually only used when a wolf had to head somewhere quick. Alfonse must have run straight here from their territory. Jeremiah grabbed his own pants and slipped them on before stepping outside. 

“You’re damn right you will fix my door. You’re going to be doing a lot more than that to make up for the fact that you scared me half to death.” Lama was waving a fluffy pink slipper in her hand. If Alfonse was closer, Jeremiah had no doubt that she would be beating the young man with it. 

“Alfonse.” Jeremiah said. “What did you do?” 

Alfonse looked over to his father. He took a step back after seeing the death glare Jeremiah was pointing his way. Alfonse scrunched himself up trying to make himself look smaller.  “After we got the report, we were all afraid you were in danger.” Alfonse began to explain. “I told the others I would follow after you. To make sure you were safe. I stopped by the watcher 's posts along the way to see if I could scent you. When I got here, I caught your scent and figured you were in the guest cabin. So I started knocking. And then there was this unknown scent. I started calling you but got no answer. I panicked and thought that they had hurt you.”

“Why?” Jeremiah said. He was angry. Angry that his son would do something so stupid. Especially when he was more level headed then this. Then it dawned on him. The Watcher was only attacked 2 days ago. The pack territory was still 5 days walk from here. There was only one way that he could have gotten here so quickly.

“Alfonse. No. Please tell me you didn’t use an enhancement potion.” Jeremiah said. 

Alfonse did not answer. 

“Granny, do you have an oral tranquilizer? ” Jeremiah asked. “My son has been traveling nonstop on performance enhancing drugs and probably hasn’t slept for at least a day.”

“Father, I-” Alfonse began to say.

“Not now Alfonse.” Jeremiah said. “You have no idea what damage you’ve done. On top of that, you’re hyped up on a cocktail meant to keep soldiers on the front lines of battle ready to kill for days on end. Now you almost attacked the Sensitive I’ve been charged with protecting. On top of that, you just re-traumatized him after he was bound, gagged and stabbed less than half a week ago.” 

Alfonse did not have a response to that. Lama told the young werewolf to come inside. Jeremiah headed back to the guest cabin. Rodrig had not left the closet. The hyperventilating had eased into a sobbing fit. When Jeremiah’s foot made the wooden floor creak, Rodrig gasped and started to make a sort of whimpering sound. 

“Hi.” Jeremiah said. “I won’t try to open the closet again. But it can’t be comfortable in there. Can I get you a blanket and pillow? I’ll leave it by the door so you can grab it when you’re ready.” 

No answer. 

“Tap once for no, twice for yes.” 

No answer. Then two knocks on the door. 

Jeremiah pulled a pillow and the comforter from the bed. He folded the comforter up and placed it by the door and set the pillow on top. 

“I’m stepping away from the door.” Jeremiah said, making sure to make plenty of noise so that Rodrig could hear him step away. A couple of minutes passed but eventually the closet door opened just a creek. A hand slipped out and grabbed the blanket and pillow before pulling them in and closing the door. Jeremiah sat on the opposite side of the room, watching the door.

“Where is the boy?” Lama asked as she stepped in the cabin. She was still wearing her nightgown but had her leather boots on.

Jeremiah pointed towards the closet.

“He panicked.” Jeremiah said. “And now he won’t leave the closet.” 

“I don’t blame him.” Lama said. “Someone just ripped off a door to attack him.” “I’m so sorry Granny. I’ll pay for all the repairs.” “The door is not what I’m worried about right now.” She said, “I need to make sure he’s not injured.” 

Jeremiah got up and both he and Lama approached the door. 

“Rodrig.” Jeremiah said. “We need to make sure you aren't injured. May we open the door?” 

No answer. Then the sound of shuffling and some grunting. And then the door opened. Rodrig had the comforter wrapped around his upper body. His eyes and nose poked through a small hole at the top of the wrap he had made of himself. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and his body was shaking. Lama offered her hand. Rodrig reached out and took it but his eyes never left Jeremiah’s. Rodrig was terrified. Whatever trust they had built, Alfonse had destroyed in a matter of seconds. 

[pokemon-researcher-corvid]

Week 1: Getting Started

Ok, I’m currently set up in the Eastern Province of Paldea. I’m about three miles away from Levincia. The rest of my research group dropped me off and said their goodbyes, and I’m on my own now. Well, I have my team with me, but I’m the only human I’ve seen out here for a while. It’s the middle of the afternoon, but I’m sort of jet-lagged since I got here yesterday morning from Johto. My plan for right now is that I want to set up some sensing devices (Cameras, sound recorders, night vision sensors, Terra-energy analyzers, etc…) that the Academy has generously lent me, and set up a few observation shelters before nightfall.

The site is located between two riverbeds, so I want to be careful about placements. It would be kind of a nightmare to get the equipment wet and damaged, and moreso if I fell into the water. It’s cold enough as-is at night here, I don’t need a swim! Luckily, most of the equipment here can be affixed to trees so it’s in less danger of being broken by wild Pokémon or damaged by water. The forecast says no rain, so I’m pretty lucky! Pascha and Nikola are Arceus-sends with their mobility and psychic moves to get things set up with me. According to the field surveys I have, this area is habitat to the following species: Kirlia, Mimikyu, Tinkatink, Tinkatuff, and of course the possibility of fairy-type terra Pokémon.

The Kirlia and Tinkatink families are diurnal, while Mimikyu tend to be nocturnal. I intend to spend a week or so active during the day to observe the diurnal lines and then another week active at night to observe the nocturnal Pokémon. Basically, I’m in for the long haul here.

—

Day 2 notes:

Me and my team have set up the equipment and the shelters, and I’m currently on watch for any sightings. While I wait, I’ve been reviewing the survey team’s notes of this area. Soil makeups, mineral deposits, botany reports, all that fun stuff. This place has really rich soil and a lot of tall grass, and a good distribution of woody shrubbery, so it’s a fairly ideal spot for a lot of Pokémon to make their homes. Pokémon in the Field egg group specifically enjoy this type of habitat.

—

Day 3 notes:

Today was the first sighting of one of the lines. Two Kirlia were caught on one of the cameras, and I’ve had Nikola teleport me to the observation den I made (read: a small, camouflaged hollow hidden by undergrowth. It’s dirty and cramped but it helps me see Pokémon in the wild without being spotted myself, so it’s worth the discomfort!) and I’m keeping an eye on their movements. The two subjects are likely both male, based on the length of their horns. One of them is larger than the other, possibly older or higher level.

They appear to be sitting through the loose soil of the ground to search for something. Based on my prior research, they could be searching for evolutionary stones. Male Kirlia can evolve into Gallade when exposed to Dawn Stones, so if they are both male like I suspect they could be engaging in collecting behaviors. Togepi and Togetic do something similar, so this would make sense.

Their diet is something also of note. The sifting behavior they engage in is also effective for foraging. It’s unclear if they are searching for exclusively food, evolutionary stones, or both in equal parts. I’ve observed them collecting nutritionally dense foods like olives, a couple berries, and a lot of seeds. Mostly seeds from the wild grasses from what I can tell. The smaller one also managed to collect an egg- based on patterning it seemed like an unfertilized Dunsparce egg (?) however it’s hard to confirm without getting to analyze the shell pattern up close. The diet seems high in protein and fat, which is important for the health and growth of their horns. They share food fairly evenly between them, however the larger one seems to require more food than the smaller one to support it’s larger body size.

—

Day 4 notes:

Fairly quiet today. There was a lot of fog this morning so I packed up some of the more sensitive equipment in case the condensation became an issue. It’s… very cramped and quiet out here. Glad that I have my team with me. The shelters are claustrophobic and damp, but it could always be worse. I’m going to stock up on better insulated clothing before moving further north, though.

The Kirlia haven’t been around too much today. I suspect that they’re getting ready to move on from this location. I got a very good recording of them performing one of their dances this morning. I want to compare the footage to other examples because, while regional differences and individual preferences do shape Kirlia’s dances, usually you can interpret broad meanings from the choreography. Frantic spinning usually means danger, high leaps tend to be associated with pack-building, all of that type of thing.

—

Day 5 notes:

The smaller of the two Kirlia has located a stone of some kind. Based on what I can see from the observation den and the cameras, it looks like either an Oval Stone, an Everstone, a Float stone, or a Lucky Egg. It’s a round, light grey rock in an oval shape, but I can’t tell exactly what it is from my current position. Either way, the Kirlia have passed it between themselves a few times and seem like they might be taking it back to their nest location. They wandered out about an hour ago, and haven’t returned to the site location since. Based on this, I suspect they won’t return here anytime soon since they didn’t find the Dawn stone they were probably looking for. Still, I got some good notes on their movement patterns, diet, and collecting behaviors, so I feel OK about this data! I didn’t see any Tinkatink during this week of observation, but I’m not pressed about it. The Kirlia provided some strong insights into Pokémon behavior, and there will be plenty of opportunities to see more Tinkatink here in Paldea. I hear that they’re fairly wide-spread.

—

Today makes one week! I’m grateful for the notes and recordings I collected, and I’m going to take a day to rest before switching over to a nocturnal schedule for observations. Every day that passes out here makes me miss hot showers. And beds. A sleeping bag just isn’t the same!

[seldnei]

Got tagged by my fellow Dream Lord, @julcheninred ...

Relationship status: Married. Not currently plotting murder.

Favorite color: Green!

Favorite food: Any combination of bread, tomato, and cheese.

Song stuck in your head: I have music playing, so that’s drowning out whatever’s in there (current song is “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol)

Last thing you’ve googled: “Elden Ring dungeons list.”  I’m stuck on the fucking Elden Beast fight, so I’m taking a break and running through all the dungeons I’ve missed or skipped.

Time: 12:48 PM

Last book you read: When Sorrows Come by Seanan McGuire.  I’m prepping for the new Toby book that’s coming out at the end of the month.

Last book you enjoyed: Not a re-read? The Grief of Stones by Katherine Addison.

Last book you hated reading:  I no longer read books that I hate.  Like, I’ll finish a “meh” book, but if I find myself actively hating the book, I just quit. I believe the last time this happened, it was 21 Lessons for the 21st Century.  I was hoping for something better than the 1am honors dorm room pontificating I got (do not get me started on the section on science fiction).

Favorite thing to cook/bake: I like the process of baking chocolate chip cookies, especially with fresh brown sugar.  I like to have baked bread, because I make good bread, but the process is loooong.

Favorite craft to do in your free time: I don’t really craft much--most of my free time is spent reading or, at the moment, playing Elden Ring.  I do want to learn to make my own notebooks, though.

Most niche dislikes: Jazz?  I hate jazz.  My coworkers find this weird. Oh, I am also not fond of Chicago citation style.  I think its bibliographies look weird and crowded.

Opinion on circuses: Love fictional circuses. Fantasy circuses (MirrorMask’s, as an example), horror circuses (I am quite fond of the Circus of the Other in Magnus Archives), a dusty, 30s-era circus as a setting for a novel.  Have no desire to go to a circus in real life.  (side note: I got lost at the circus when I was small, which was not traumatic for me but was pretty traumatic for my mother.)

Do you have a sense of direction and if not what’s the worst way you’ve gotten lost?: Yeeesss?  Okay, I can’t label my left and right.  If you say “go left,” there are 50 50 odds that I will turn right, honestly thinking I am turning left. However, if I, say, know I am facing north, and you tell me to go east, I will do it. I am pretty good at knowing where the main roads are from where I am in areas I’m familiar with. I’ve successfully navigated people who thought we were lost back to civilization in my hometown and current city.

That said, the worst time I got lost was coming back from a friend’s place in another town where I’d only been once, with the hungry three year old in the back seat.  Ugh.

Last song I listened to: The Mary J. Blige cover of “Stay With Me.”

Last show I watched: She Hulk, Attorney at Law.

Currently watching: I guess that?  It’s coming out once a week.

Currently reading: Nothing, as I just finished a book yesterday, but I’m going to re-read Paladin’s Hope by T. Kingfisher next.

Current obsessions: Sandman has made a triumphant return to my obsessions list.  Still obsessed with the album The Horror and the Wild by The Amazing Devil, but it got interrupted by a desire to deep dive into Panic! at the Disco’s discography.  Elden Ring, god help me. And the cozy fantasy romance refuses to leave me alone, despite the two sets of revisions I need to be working on.

I am tagging @lookninjas, @silver-stargazing, @kaoticspoonie (if you want to, no pressure) and anyone else who wants to do this.

[futureseaempress]

WIP Weekend Tag Game

I got tagged by @hypnostheory tyty bb

Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more). (If you're an artist or other non-fic fandom creator, questions can be found here!)

1. WIP List:

okay bear with me theres a bunch

DAVEKAT -the cowboy one -the waho one and/or the office one -first date/Nastygum -tire trouble part two -the nanny au -the sweet home alabama au -more Silver paint CODA -glory -some princes don’t become kings

FIRST PRINCE -the soulmates au -the omegaverse au -the actor au -the baby one -the hockey one -threes giving - bachelor party -the autism/self expression one

TMA -that last chapter of fanning the flame that was supposed to be about agnes and Jack and I just never fucking wrote anything for it

2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?

here in search of your glory for sure

3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?

so if i ever finish it more silver paint is bound to be the longest

4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?

oooo i love writing the kid fic echoed through my mind is rlly fun tbh i like the drama and doing something ive never written before is rlly fun

5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?

ALL OF THEM but defo the sweet home alabama au bc i think about it allll the time

6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?

-the threesome one bc I have a rlly good idea for it but I’m convinced I’m gonna fall short bc I want it to be kind of long and I struggle with that

7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?

hya usually reads my stuff but uhhh the soulmate au for sure not bc of anything bad but bc it’s almost too quick and I need someone to help me like slow down and set the mood

8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?

ALL OF THEM ACTUALY i kinda just black out and start typing jibberish when i get too stuck and usually it works itself out

9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?

oh uh none of them. i suppose I’m gonna cheat and say the kid fic bc I’m playing with some characters who exist in name only and like I’ve written Philips kids as getting along with Shaan & Zahra’s and his youngest behave like Henry and Bea and June has a little girl who is just like Alex and Alex is going to have a daughter who is just like June

10. Which WIP is the sexiest?

i'm gonna say the actor au but thats just cause i have plans

11. Which WIP is the angstiest?

ooo I don’t do a lot of angst but I’m gonna say the threesome bc Alex is a Dingus in that one BUT MAYBE HOCKEY BC ITS SAD FOR OSCAR AND ARTHUR

12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?

ummmmmmmm. I’m gonna say. The omegaverse one actually it blends canon and fantasy rlly well

13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?

glory. the next chapter has like bits from my favorite concert stuff and I love it

14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?

I wanna say Glory but it could rlly go for any of them I think about them kind of all the time

15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?

the threesome one but that’s bc the idea is rlly good and I want to pull it off college aus are my favorite & should be easy cause I lived in a dorm from age 16-21 but still

16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?

ummmmm no? mb? I think about them before bed to get to sleep tho

17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?

so I like putting different venues of communication in my fic it’s kind of my favorite thing to add and I like writing emotional break downs where the text changes and the vibe becomes rlly frantic

but complexities is a hard stone to lift maybe the hockey one bc they aren’t together yet? and I mostly write established stuff? or the omegaverse one for the same reason

18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?

probs the threesome but that’s just bc hya and I had fun telling each other about it

19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?

NO LOL— maybe I should write something from Pez or Nora’s perspective for the threesome fic but that’s kind of cheating maybe Liam will get a chapter for funnies

20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.

My college au has a fight over the custody of Nora’s Keurig.

I’m not going to be tagging anyone bc I’m dreadfully late but if anyone wants to do it bc they saw it here they should!

[nerdskii]

•• LONG BLOG POST ABOUT LIFE KEEP SCROLLING ON BY or read if you want ••

I have bipolar disorder and thanks to years of searching to truly understand myself I know that I have had it for as long as I remember my feelings. I was officially diagnosed with it in 2008 and took medicine for it all the way until 2018. Ten years of hard fought depression and mood stabilization and I really did get better.

But what bar is better measured by? I no longer randomly explode with bottled up emotions; I can process them in real time and I am capable of calmly explaining what I am feeling to another. I can identify when manic mood has set in and know to make no decisions of any consequence during it. Such as spending money, giving away items, or deciding to live or die. I can play a videogame instead but I do very poorly in that state and get enraged so it isn’t best option but I still choose it sometimes. I can’t really focus on reading or watching a show so yoga, meditation, and listening to music while running on my elliptical is nice.

I think about watching my nieces and nephews grow and how much they love me. How I can be useful to my family or things I can arrange or rearrange in my room. I don’t fall into extended manic moods or depressions. In the year 2015 I was depressed for 11 months and spent three or those months manic while working a job. Oh boy! That was a doozy I mostly felt nothing and when I did it was sadness or anger and I developed insomnia as a little treat for my declining mental health. It was difficult but I never quit my bipolar meds and immediately got on an sleep aid/antidepressant combo after four days of being awake and was sorted.

The bar to measure success by is am I current miserable and the answer is a resounding no.

However. . .

I still have bipolar disorder and that my feeling great no passion in my life due to the medicine has led me where I am meant to be. I feel like I truly have achieved inner peace with how I express my love for my family, the acts of service I give freely, that my lack of desire to achieve or experience isn’t bad; it’s Tao.

All that mental suffering and the process of feeling terrible medicine stripped away my ability to emote from me led me here. Like it was supposed to all along. I am a person that doesn’t need passion it made want to die back then. I don’t need to compete it makes me not want to be around other people. I don’t need to do anything but help others and show them harmony is best through being peaceful myself.

I don’t know why I felt like typing that out but it’s kind of the line some of my meditation thoughts take. I couldn’t meditate for peace when my mind decides to attack me if I never got my prescriptions so many years ago in my 20s. We are all in the process of building the foundation tomorrows us will stand on everyday. What may feel like a pebble today will soon be a stone.

Not quitting my medication when I felt down and couldn’t get out of bed and slept 13 hours, not quitting another day when I said, “This is bullshit I am not even happy” as I laid in bed unable to asleep, not quitting when my only thought was “I’m invisible everyone would get over me dying sooner than they think.”

I know no measure for happiness but what I know I am not this body, I am the electricity that powers it. I know that the brain is a powerful computer we don’t really know how to use, it suggests things simply to let you know it’s something you *could* do. I know I am not my thoughts. I know feelings a transient and are only blowing through but eventually they’ll return so I must welcome them and bid them farewell each and every time, even the negative ones.

I don’t know why I am writing this instead of just meditating but I know I felt like a stream cloudy with kicked up silt when I started but now I a peaceful and the stream has cleared. I hope to read this again one day and find some clarity I missed; meaning I’ve grown more wise.

☯️

[tdcloud]

DVerse Lore + Updates - Triarii, Nicciave, and Loremasters (blog#14)

I seriously can’t believe it’s already March. Am I the only one who thinks the months go by faster the older I get? Well, anyway, there’s no time for existentialism—we’ve got a lot to discuss this time and there’s no time like the present to get down to things!

First order of business: I’m freshly back from Anime Crossroads and ecstatic that the first convention of 2023 went so well! I met a lot of fans, new and old, and managed to hawk my wares to a lot of new readers, all without losing my voice! If you’ve ever met me at a convention before, I’m sure you know how amazing that last part is. 90% of my business is gained by talking to people who stop by my table. I have to give summaries, discuss my writing style, and listen to many aspiring writers, casual readers, and overly-effusive porn enthusiasts for three days straight. It’s a lot on the vocal cords, believe me! But ACross was great, the people were phenomenal, and I’m gearing up for Evillecon later this month with full faith that it’ll be just as good if not better than what I just experienced last weekend.

So, here’s your reminder that I’ll be attending Evillecon in Evansville, IN! Mosey on over to my Schedule page for more information on that, and definitely swing by the table to say hello if you’re going, too. I’d love to see some more friendly faces from that neck of the woods!

Second on the docket: Ossuary. Another novella published, and a whole slew of new readers to traumatize with my particular brand of erotic horror! I hope you all managed to snag yourselves a copy, be it physical or ebook, and if you ordered a signed copy from me, rest assured, the books are on their way if they aren’t already in your hands! Please keep in mind that I offer signed copies of all of my work at all times. Merely mosey over to the Books tab and click on the form link at the bottom of the page, and I’ll personalize a copy and mail it to you myself. 

And hey, if you’ve already got your book and enjoyed it thoroughly, here’s your regular reminder that the best way you can continue to support me after your purchase is to leave reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Seriously, there is no better way to help my work read new readers than by leaving a kind review. It helps boost my work in the algorithm, and helps me find new markets I wouldn’t otherwise reach. So… get to writing if you’ve already finished Ossuary! Just a few sentences can really move mountains on those sites!

And lastly, the third topic of discussion: What’s coming next?

Well, a hell of a lot, to be honest with you! With Ossuary wrapped up and freshly off to market, the next title on deck to be published is Infaust, my Pied Piper inspired dark romance. My artist for this book is currently tied up with some other projects at the moment, but the manuscript itself is fully finished and ready whenever she is. Tenuous plans have this book launching sometime this Summer, if not into early Fall. More details to come as we get closer to June, but trust me, I’ll keep you all informed!

I don’t like making promises on for-sure publication dates. Lord knows there are a million little things that can send a project back several months, and at this point, I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to promising things that aren’t set in stone. But, while I wait for Sun’s time to free up for Infaust, I’m also working on preparing the first of the Vigilante novellas, too! We may see Pride/Stray published late this year, but please, don’t hold your breath. Three publications in one year is the dream, but until Infaust comes out, not much else will. Get excited, though! If it doesn’t drop this year, it will drop first thing in 2024.

Anyway, that’s enough preliminary business for the time being. We have an actual topic of the month to discuss, so let’s get to it and delve into the next category of DVerse clans: the Triarii, Nicciave, and Loremasters!

The Triarii are one of my favorite clans to talk about because they don’t seem like they’ve got all that much going on with them at first blush. They’re the “strong” vampires, the big ones, the jocks as Gabriel in Letifer termed them, but they are so much more than that. Boy howdy, are they so much more than that. They’re a very tumultuous bloodline that has seen great rises and great losses in power. For much of the Dark Ages, they actually stood alongside the Luminaries and were, in some ways, far more akin to a ruling class than their landed gentry contemporaries. 

The first Triarii isn’t known, but exemplary Triarii stand out in history as the leaders of countries, the winners of wars. Most notable of all the Triarii we’re likely to encounter in the DVerse books is Marcu, a Roman Centurion who single-handedly changed the course of European history after a rampant spree of vampiric over-feedings combined with an intense population growth threatened the human species at large. We’ll get into the specifics fully in the final books of the series, but he essentially saw the writing on the wall, realized that there would be nothing left if someone didn’t do something and soon, and took matters into his own hands. The first great cullings began under his watch. Lesser clans found their numbers purged in droves, and prominent families who had the foresight to place their support behind the winning side (Marcu’s) found themselves elevated in the new world order while the rest were left out to receive a last sunrise. 

This was the golden age of the Triarii, and it lasted as long as Marcu did. Marcu lost power in an nebulously understood part of vampiric history known colloquially as The Fall. After he was gone, the Triarii splintered, scrambled, and lost their hard-won supremacy. Luminaries who realized they no longer wished to be puppet rulers behind their muscle-bound pseudo-servants took back control and reinstated the pecking order we see persisting into modern nights.

In modernity, we see most Triarii occupy a tenuous position of power and unimportance. They’re often found in ancillary roles of bodyguards, drivers, hired muscle, and confidants to the high bloods. Nary will you see a Luminary operating in public without a Triarii close behind, and because of this close proximity to power, Triarii enjoy being in the know in ways few are. They seem to be working towards something, accumulating power, contacts, and information, but what, exactly, they’re hoping to accomplish is a secret known only to their ranks, and if there’s one thing Triarii don’t share, it’s secrets that benefit the clan as a whole.

Might makes right to the Triarii. First and foremost, they are a clan built upon the belief that the only way to hold power is through conquest, battle, and proving definitively that you are stronger than the one you’re up against. In a time of constant war, in the time of Empires, it’s easy to see why they would have risen above their intellectual counterparts. Triarii embrace from the ranks of soldiers, generals, hardened veterans, and those who have proven their will is stronger than their foes—stronger than anyone, in fact—and their blood assures that’s true. 

Similar to the Cultists, it can be difficult to survive the transformative bite of a Triarii. It’s strong blood. Only the strong can withstand it, and even then, a will of steel is needed as well. Because of this, most Triarii tend to be big and bulky. They were fighters in life, or soldiers, or thugs. Athletes, hired muscle, the sort of humans who led an active life and have the body to prove it—but that’s just one sort of Triarii. The strongest powerlifter could be felled by a Triarii embrace just as easily as the weakest pencil pusher if they don’t have the mindset, the sheer force of will, to overpower the blood before it overpowers them first. So, any Triarii you encounter demands respect outright. There is no such thing as a Triarii pushover. They all fought to survive in ways most can’t comprehend, and because of that, they’re all worth consideration, no matter the package they come in.

My favorite thing about this clan is that they are, as I fondly call them, “team sports.” What makes the most dangerous isn’t their enhanced strength, their ability to channel ungodly strength and bloodlust through blood rages, or their unbreakable willpower. It’s that they all come into the night with an innate sense of loyalty that is nigh on unshatterable. For most, this loyalty is directed to the clan as a whole. There shouldn’t be such a thing as a Triarii who isn’t willing to lend aid to a fellow Triarii. They are all bloodkin, and in this sense, blood is far, far thicker than water. Triarii talk. They share everything. If one works for a Luminary in Chicago and hears some secrets on the job, you can guarantee every Triarii they’ve come into contact with in that city also knows those secrets too. They rarely if ever act in ways that wouldn’t benefit their fellow clanmates at large.

Of course, there are always outliers. Triarii have to be loyal to something. Most are loyal to each other, but that doesn’t have to be the case. Some are hyper-loyal to the groups they were affiliated with in life (a gang leader may remain loyal to his gang as opposed to the Triarii who turned him, for example). The thing is… this is the sort of loyalty that’s meant to be shared. If it isn’t given to a large enough group, or God forbid, is only given to a single person… Well, there are a few freaks in this world—Rience being one of them, as discussed last month—and there is nothing scarier than a Triarii who doesn’t share. 

We’ll get into that in the next novel, Philaimatos, and believe me, it’s fucking wild.

Triarii Power breakdown:

Insanely enhanced strength, speed, and physical ability.

When hurt/angered/triggered, can engage in a “Blood Rage” and essentially go full primal instincts. Become a killing machine with no sense of pain or consequences until their blood lust is satisfied.

Enhanced loyalty to the clan/group of influence. Fixations occur if this need for camaraderie/kinship isn’t disseminated to a big enough pool.

But let’s move on to the exact opposite of the Triarii. No more jocks—let’s move onto the nerds, namely my favorite clan, the Nicciave!

I’m not sure who the progenitor of the Nicciave was, but I can guarantee they were a paranoid bastard who probably wasn’t well liked. They were instrumental in the Triarii’s rise to power during the Dark Ages and select Nicciave benefited greatly from sensing which way the wind was blowing during that initial conflict. Many were culled, but those who aligned themselves with Marcu early on saw unprecedented prestige, status, and power placed upon them as they sold out their fellow kin, clanmates and strangers alike, all in the hopes of receiving a good seat in the new world order Marcu built off the bones of the culled. We’ll see a lot of that in the story of Cassius, another key player in the final books of the series. No spoilers here though. Just know it’s a doozy.

When I describe the Nicciave, the best analogy I’ve found is that they are rats fleeing an eternally sinking ship. They are the most Type-A neurotics you can imagine, and they have good reason to be that. Unlike most clans who are gifted with physical abilities, their claim to fame is purely mental. No one in the vampire world has a stronger mind than a Nicciave. They can compel humans and vampires alike without breaking a sweat, mesmerize as easily as breathing, and destroy minds on a whim. On top of that, they’ve got one hell of a self-preservation tactic under their belts: minor precognizance. If there’s a fist being thrown in their direction, they’ll know about it before it happens—or before it could happen. 

For better or worse, they are grossly aware of how dangerous the world is. They have the unique ability to know exactly how bad things are about to get just before they happen, and because of that, they are constantly doing everything in their power to better their positions. It’s not paranoia to think the whole world is out to get you when you know that it is, and in a world built on shadowy politics, back alley alliances, and cutthroat bargains, the only true safety is found in power—absolute power.

Nicciave are opportunists. They are shadow brokers, spymasters, kingmakers, and power hungry to a fault. There’s no other way to attain security than to know every single danger out there and have it under lock and key—or better yet, have it owe you so you hold the leash and direct what direction the danger points. Beside every great leader are a dozen Nicciave lurking just behind the seat of power, whispering in the King’s ear to guide him this way or that. They are loyal only to themselves, and even then, that loyalty is a fickle thing when their own minds tell them they’re constantly under threat. 

No one trusts a Nicciave: they are a resource to be used carefully, and always at a cost. 

Nicciave have a wider pool in which they sire from than most clans. They don’t look at scholars or athletes or royalty—they look at everyone and choose based on their own set of standards. And even after a fledgling is turned, whether or not they live up to their sire’s standards is another matter entirely. Some watch a single individual for years to weigh whether or not they’ve met some arbitrary set of standards, some invisible check-\list that meets their expectations for a good lackey. Others treat it more like a job interview with the human unknowing what, exactly, that job will entail until it’s too late to turn it down. Some employ “tests'' that range from innocuous to utterly inhumane just to see how the prospective fledgling bounces back. 

Regardless of how they get there, Nicciave sires are… difficult mentors to impress. It’s hard to tell who has it better, those with micromanaging sires or utterly detached ones. 

Despite their typical unsavoryness, Nicciave remain in high demand to those also seeking power, prestige, or a leg up over their rivals. Most Nicciave have a price they’re willing to sell just about anything for, and their loyalty comes at a figure most couldn’t scarcely begin to afford. Anyone who’s anyone has the number to a few prominent Nicciave on their phone, and if you’re smart, you can benefit greatly from a relationship with one. Just be prepared to lose a few secrets in the process, naturally.

What I love most about Nicciave is that while every bloodline has some flaw or facet of their personality cranked up to eleven, these bastards prove to be their own worst enemies 99% of the time. They are self-destructive in their need to climb the ranks, and even those who seem level headed have at least one trigger topic (or person) that will send them spiraling. Anxiety, OCD, unsavory fixations, and paranoia are prevalent, and no Nicciave has the exact same flavor of brain rot. I adore shadow lord type characters, but they’re always so much more fun when they’ve got some kind of Issue that keeps them from fully achieving domination. They don’t seek power for power’s sake—it’s a self-defense mechanism, and the thing that might provide them with true safety, happiness, or satisfaction will always take a back seat to the thing they perceive will keep them ahead of the dangers they see around every single corner. It makes for very interesting characters and dynamics, something you’ll see in our next duology of novels!

Nicciave Power breakdown:

Enhanced mental acuity—compulsion, mesmerism, mental dominance, and control. Can compel humans without effort and almost all vampires with ease. Only Luminaries would present a challenge.

Minor pre-cognizance (mental “vision” of incoming danger/threats).

Exacerbated anxiety/paranoia. Will distrust instinctively.

Our final topic of the month comes in the form of the other nerds of the vampire world, the Loremasters. In some ways, these are the truer form of “nerd.” They seek knowledge for the sake of knowledge and not for some desperate grab for power, dominance, or security the way the Nicciave do. They’ve got their own issues, but they’re far less dramatic, and there can be an argument made that these bastards are the saddest of all the clans. I sure as shit know my editor thinks so XD

For as long as there has been history, there have been those dedicated to recording it. Vampiric history may transpire in longer epochs than most history, but there are still record keepers, or in this case, Loremasters. Built from enclaves of scholars from every order under the sun, the Loremasters navigate the centuries with the marked goal of recording its passage as accurately and unbiasedly as possible. If there is a progenitor of this bloodline, they would know it. They try to know everything they can as quickly as they can because unlike all other bloodlines, the Loremasters do have an expiration date. 

Yep, you heard me right. Loremasters are not immortal. The average Loremaster has a lifespan of roughly 900 years, and for every decade they exist as such, they age. It’s slow at first, but persistent, compounding until their bodies fail them while their minds—the lone aspect of their bodies untouched by age—continue on. 

It’s common practice for younger Loremasters to mercy kill their elders once they reach the last stages of bodily autonomy—and once they’ve finished conveying the bulk of their own knowledge. No one wants to exist as a sentient brain on the floor, which is what tends to become of them if they’re not dealt with when their bodies begin to break down. 

There’s definitely some possibility of some weird sci-fi shit with this clan once technology catches up to the Futurama heads-in-a-jar concept, but I’ll leave that to you guys to postulate on.

These guys don’t solely live just to die though. Some believe that the fact that they do die gives their longevity more meaning. You would be hard pressed to come across a single Loremaster that doesn’t give their duty 100% of their focus, and that duty is vast, varied, and fascinating. While Loremasters tend to all maintain some contact with their order in whatever area they may inhabit, Loremasters have a variety of positions within vampiric society. Their number is few and always has been, but their worth is undeniable to those with the common sense to appreciate it. Luminaries who desire uncontested proof of their claim over an area always have at least one Loremaster under their employ to attest to their historic legacy, and those with fledglings in need of guidance are often assigned younger Luminaries to document their growing deeds as preemptive guarantees that their rises to power go uncontested. 

You can view Loremasters as counselors, scribes, and historians all in one. Most remain situated in one area for most of their lives, but others, typically younger Loremasters, travel frequently, gathering new sources of information for the clan as a whole while their bodies are strong enough to facilitate travel. A common coming of age task for young fledglings is to venture away from the enclave alone and bring back the truth regarding long-held folk beliefs, rumors, or events that have gone uninvestigated by frail elders. The acquisition of new knowledge is paramount to the clan, and the best way to prove your worth is to bring back something juicy.

Older-but-still-spry Loremasters oftentimes have ongoing research projects under their belts. Sometimes they’re pet interests, and other times they’re assigned duties they’ve been tasked to delve into. The quintessential Loremaster is an unbiased observer, a witness to the events of history as history is made. Most subscribe to this mentality. Most. It’s uncommon to see a Loremaster engaged in any physical or bloody feat to uncover secrets. It’s even more uncommon to find a Loremaster engaged politically in any capacity other than as an apolitical advisor/historian. But there are exceptions to every rule, and like all exceptions in the DVerse, it’s those individuals who leave the most ripples in their wake.

While writing this series I’ve found that the most fun vampires are the ones who don’t fully fall into their clan bias. All three of this month’s clan spotlights will get that proven true in the next duology, so trust me, y’all are in for a treat.

Loremaster Power breakdown:

Photographic and eidetic memories. They never forget, and no other bloodline can say the same.

Longevity, not immortality—they age roughly a decade every 100 years after they’ve caught up to their physical age (someone turned at twenty will look twenty for two hundred years and age 10 years physically every century after that).

Enhanced strength, speed, and senses are average in terms of most vampires. Nothing to write home about compared to anyone else under the vampiric sun.

That’s enough of all of that for the moment. Let’s open things up to a question! I only got one this month from Twitter, but that’s fine. I’m a bit pressed for time at this point in the month, so I won’t complain.

Do you have a list of character names or words (made up or otherwise) you’ve set aside as title words or scene inspiration that you want to use in future works?

This is a fascinating question! I don’t typically have lists of names stored up—I’m really more of the “picks a name when I absolutely have to because choosing names is like pulling teeth half the time” but I do have a few names I came across while reading this big ass text book on horror cinema history that I decided to store for a rainy day. I think I’m going to use them for a future polyam erotica I want to write. The names are Zattiany, Diodati, and Aloysha. 

When it comes to stories set in fantasy spaces where I don’t have any real-world applications or correlations, I tend to make up names based on how they sound phonetically, and those are always in-the-moment type choices I make while looking at my keyboard and Frankensteining syllables until a name emerges. For real-world based things, I usually look up census records from the time period/location for inspiration or I pull up the various family trees my mother has researched and find fun names from there. Some examples of the latter could be seen in the pirate story I want to write sometime: Rook Sinclair, Avery Tremaine, and Olivier d' Aubrecicourt (father’s name)/de Malet (mother’s name). I’ve also got a Lyde and Nikita on deck, a Lucas, Pierce, and Ilya for a spy novella, and a whole range of various vampires (Felix, Jericho, Eden, Blair, Asher, Ricca, Naoya, Nebraska, Charon, etc.)

As for title words, lord, where do I begin? We already know I almost exclusively title my stories with obscure, one-worded things. I usually find words for that kind of thing by using obscure word dictionaries or online resources like the Haggard Hawks twitter (if you don’t follow this twitter you are missing the fuck out). I also keep a running list on a desktop sticky note of words I come across that I’m fond of and might potentially use if I come up with a premise that suits the word. The DVerse novels in particular required a lot of long hours of research and digging to find Ancient Greek/Latin vocabulary that fit the overarching themes of each book without sounding jarring or bad as title words. For those I’ve got things like Thanatoses, Skiamakhia, Aletheia, Nepenthe, Dakethumos, Philaimatos, etc. 

Current words on my list I’d like to write stories around/for would be Philamot (the brownish orange of dead leaves) or Aiteall (a fine spell of weather between showers of rain), with that latter one being one of the few reasons I’d ever consider doing a sixth Tempest book, simply because it fits the overarching title theme of that series.

As for words that may inspire scenes, that’s trickier. I do have one example that sticks out in my head. When it comes to the sequel to Ossuary, Reliquary (oh look, another title word teaser), a large part of what made me want to write it came from the idea of “infestation.” I don’t want to go into a ton of detail since Ossuary only just came out and I’d hate to spoil the ending for anyone, but as I was working on the notes for it, that word just stuck in my head and wouldn’t let go. The idea of something inhuman and wrong “infesting” a mundane, domestic space, worrying away at the once-comfortable trappings and existing within its confines in a way that is just patently WRONG wouldn’t leave me, and it’s become a large feature of what makes that sequel so horrifying. In Ossuary, the horror of Thierry’s surroundings was obvious. He’s in a crypt. He’s surrounded by the dead and dying; it’s simply human nature to recoil from dead things. Domestic horror, though, and the idea of the once-comforting domestic setting becoming “infested” with something that shouldn’t be there… 

Well, that’s a hallmark of lots of horror, and it helped me define what sort of terror I want the audience to feel as they read it. 

I think that’s the only concrete word I’ve currently got influencing any specific scenes or themes in a story right now. Typically, I’m more guided by “feelings” or specific energies I want to convey to a reader, and a lot of that isn’t so easily captured in just one word. 

Only one question, which means we’re going to wrap things up a little shorter than usual this month. There’s plenty to make up for it though in terms of upcoming events and projects, and on that note, I hope I get to see some of you guys at some conventions this year—lord knows I’m going to be attending and tabling at a lot of them—and that you’re enjoying Ossuary. We’ll finish up the last of our clan deep dives next month and move on to some more fun things come April, and not just in our blog rotation! But more on that later. I’ve rambled on long enough here, and I’d hate to spoil the surprise.

Until next time,

T.D. Cloud

[mikumanogi-blog]

2023-01-18  “C→G→Am→Em→F→C→F→G #TereBlog” ENG

Hello, I’m Teresa

Thank you for opening my blog once again （＾‐＾）

Currently I don’t know how long this blog will be but please read until the end 🤜🏻😵‍💫｡ﾟ

Well then let’s go

 The little bit of red sunlight as the sun is setting 🌅🤍

Click, a beautiful picture with Aya.

Recently I haven’t had the opportunity to see the setting sun and so being able to see it was refreshing.

C→G→Am→Em→F→C→F→G is the cord progression of a canon.

I don’t know anything about music but… living 20 years, the keyboard of a piano was really heavy and I couldn’t push down the keys and the music teacher laughed at me, and so the only song that I have in my repertoire is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

 During the recording of New Nogizaka Star Tanjou! I saw the chord progression of the song Iroha and Io-chan played on the guitar. I wanted to know the true magical secrets of their guitar playing skills, and so I looked it up.

 Apparently there are a lot of songs that use the canon chord progression. Even the song “chis ana koi no uta’ ‘Ito’ that we sang on New Nogizaka Star Tanjou have it. I was reminded of ‘Tsubasa wo kudasai’ from the last scene of Evangelion: 2.0.

 There are probably Nogizaka songs that use the same cord progression, I want to know so I’m going to look it up. If any of you know please let me know.

〜〜〜

The 15th of January was the day of our national online meet and greet

ﾆｷﾞ(  ◜ᴗ¯)🤝🏻(¯ᴗ◝  )ﾆｷﾞ

This time I was put together with Saa-chan and Iroha in the same lane 🤍

For some reason Ikeda was like a top batter.

The people who were had Satsuki-chan and Iroha oshimen towels I welcomed like I was a cast member at Disneyland (*ˊᵕˋ*)ﾉ" 

In a small corner of my heart I was hoping for some Ikeda ones? Is what I thought and so I hope that my feelings of gratitude and love were conveyed to everyone that came.

 It was only after I started working as an idol that I’ve been able to understand how hard it is to keep the people you love loving you （´-`）.｡oO

The reason that Hii-chan pulled me away from the fixed camera was because of this darn fruit sandwich🍓

The 15th of January is strawberry day, and so I had one as a snack. Harassho

 Playing Othello with Hii-chan the other day I got into a really good spot, I was so close to winning and…? Due to a connection error the game was void. Tears, tears.

I’ll definitely win next time! ！٩(´･ω･`)وおー！！！

She realized the lipstick that I got as a present recently and gave me one! ( ᵒ̴̶̷̤◦ᵒ̴̶̷̤ )I’m so glad

 Oh that’s right. I’ve recently been thinking of a slogan 𓈒𓂂𓏸💭

Teresa-panda hakken! I still like but also don’t  

🤍Love me Teresa! 😳😳😳

　

🤍Ike-daisuki Tere-rabu

 🤍Anpan Shokupan Terepan! ( 'ч' )ﾓｸﾞﾓｸﾞ

Who thinks↑are great?

If you have any good ones I want you to let me know in the comments, I’ll also happily accept them during the meet and greets as well 🤲🏻⸒⸒

I’m going to try my hardest at making a slogan ( ｰ`дｰ´)ｷﾘｯ

 I’m always researching movies and music

When I read through the comments I always imagine that ‘when you’re not with me do you think about this, do you think about that’. After that I thought wouldn’t it be great if we could always be together.. But next week there is the individual meet and greet, and for the next three weeks in a row I’ll be able to speak with all of you directly!!! It’s going to be such a wonderful time 😭

 Until we meet then （◝𖥦◜）

〜〜〜

Here are the tv shows I am participating in📺

　

“Kotoge Eiji no nante Bi da!”

Every Tuesday at Midnight!

This week’s topic is “carvings and sculptures”

 The sculptures that I’m most familiar with are stone busts. There are also big fully body sculptures but I’m always scared that they’ll fall over… sweats. During an earthquake they all held down… 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

Every time I’m on ‘Nante bi da!” the outfits are super cute （///＞-＜///）

Even at the meet and greet some people come to the meet and greet and say “I wore what Ikeda was wearing!” and every time they do I feel glad that I got to wear those clothes.

If I never joined Nogizaka I think I would live my life wearing a track suit and it reminds me of how happy I am that my world has expanded.

I’ve come to realize recently how much I like big collar tops.

However I’m still more jealous of what others wear compared to myself😤😠😡💢

Also on the previous ‘slogan/catch phrase’ episode coming up with catch phrases for other people has become my addiction

For example… “aya can live as this countries little sister” ( •ω- )ﾊﾟﾁｯ

I think that she has the ability to open the eyes to everyone of the country to be her big brother and big sister. Ichinose Mikuu-chan remembers giving birth to her but… sweats, but the incredible aya still has that daughter energy.

But in reality I’m the oldest of all of the 5th generation members aren’t I, but I’m just Aya’s miso soup.

 “Nogizaka Under Construction”

Every Sunday at midnight!

 Last week was the b grade news episode.

I couldn’t really say anything (regretfully) but I still appeared ☺️

 Hyacinth…Hyashinoki…I can’t get it out of my head……….

Kuromi-san was really concerned about the 5th generation members. Even recently “How are you” is something she must say like how you’re body won’t feel refreshed if you don’t bathe properly.

 Kuromi-san was seated next to Kaki-san, speaking of which I think she’s also like a mantis

I’m a pillbug and so I need to be weary of being eaten by a predator (ᵒ̴̶̷‪-ᵒ̴̶̷ )

It’s ok, there are no 5th generation members that have their name end in ‘ka’ so I can be at ease

(TL Note: Ka 蚊 means mosquito so I think that is what she is getting at)

 “Kanari no top me toreru Kana?” Every second week on Saturdays at midnight!

 Ikeda will appearing on January the 28th.

I’m looking forward to wearing with Nakada Kana-san for the first time 🀄🤍

“New Nogizaka Star Tanjou!”

Every Monday at 25:29-25:59!

On the previous episode our guest was Tsuruku Masaharu-san!

We sang Checker-san’s “Kanashikute jealousy” 🤙🏻🤍

The coreo was very cute and comical, I really liked it (*´`*)

Because of this recording I found out that Checkers songs repeat excessively! I really like the part in Kanashikute Jealousy when the sax comes in.

I was really shocked when I heard that this song came out in 1984( °_° )

It’s well refined and cool… I didn’t think this was a song that came out 40 years ago, sometimes tastes are ahead of their time.

 We also got to wear Checkers-san’s trademark outfit of checkered clothes!

I really love this outfit （◜𖥦◝ ）︎💓I looks good if we’re all wearing checkered outfits, the beret hat was also cute! Please make sure to CHECK out the styling 🤲🏻⸒⸒

 On next week’s episode their will be a special project! For two weeks in a row we will be holding a NogiStar Uta Gassen 👊( ¨̮💪)

The guests will be the 4th generation members!!!

 I’ll be performing Candies-san’s “Heart no ace ga detekonai” ♥️🃏

4th generation members: Endo Sakura-san, Shibata Yuna-san, Tsutsui Ayame-san.

5th generation members: Kuu-chan and Aya and me, it’ll be a collaboration performance with the senior members!

 This will be the first performance of a Candies songs since May’s “Hohoemi Gaeshi”!

I hope I’m able to show how much I’ve grown since then, I’m going to do my best 🍬

 〜〜〜

An introduction of the magazine’s Ikeda has been in:

 “BOMB” February issue

The country’s little sister Aya and I are in it!

On sale January 7th!

The 4th generation Member Tamura Mayu is on the front cover 🛸

Here is a behind the scene’s picture

Balance

The ginkgo trees here are really beautiful and they’re almost like a rug!

 Do you see a cute little sister and her big sister in this shot? I wonder if you can see it… (..)

Opinions on the magazine, I was praised a lot on Aya’s caricature (#^.^#) The parts to pay close attention to are the dignified eyebrows and the triangular mouth! I used Kuuppi pencils for the first time in 10 years.

 “20 ±SWEET 2023 JANUARY”

On sale Friday January the 13th (ˆ꜆ . ̫ . ).ᐟ.ᐟ

There were many people I saw bring it to the meet and greet on the 15th.

 I wore a smart stylish retro furisode and a mature knit one piece 💐

This was my first time wearing a kimono for a photo shoot and I was really nervous but because I was in the care of B.L.T who did the 5th generation member publication in September I was able to feel relaxed (●︎´▽︎`●︎)

Here’s an offshoot of me on the move🐙

A fluffy Teresa wearing a Furisode + down jacket + shawl, the wind by the shore felt really good.

 While wearing the furisode I rode a bike, sprinted on the beach while flying a kite, the camera man and the staff ran with me while constantly taking picture after picture while I was running 三/ ˙꒳​˙)/

It was a lot of fun

 The blue sky was spread out above us and the sea was sparkling more than usual.

 〜〜〜

Music I’ve been listening to recently

“Dai zero kan”

This song has been on repeat ever since I watched the SLAM DUNK movie ⛹💨

That reminds me, a long time ago during practice matches there were schools that would play music when they were up. It definitely increases performance doesn’t it! I wish we did that.

 “Taiyou no Hana”

Honna Yoko-san’s voice is one that I really like ( *´꒳`*)

The gentle melody from the guite also really soothes you

 “My graduation”

I often heard it said that the hook of the song makes you feel good when you listen to it!

I really like SPEED-san’s styling, it reminds me a little bit of NewJeans.

 I think right now Y2K is popular, by popular I mean it’s going around, I hope that one day I feel nostalgic enough for the popular things of the younger generation 〜(ノд-｀)

〜〜〜

💌Q&A corner

🐇What’s your favorite muscle?

(Blog name: Kokumin no Otouto)

🤍Hamstrings! They look so delicious ( ´ ཫ ` )

My least favorite muscle is trapezius muscle

🐇When did you have your biggest growth spurt?

(Blog name: Yamori)

🤍There’s no way I was even 150cm when I entered Middle School… I can’t believe I grew like 15cm in my 6th year! I think I grew the most in Middle School, the 160cm barrier is huge |🐽・)ｼﾞｰ

When I was in middle school I was always in the ranking for the third shortest and now, somehow, I’m one of the 3rd tallest. I’ve grown! (≧∀≦)

🐇I have the ultimate date plan! You know about the all night movie theatre right, you watch movies there late into the night!!! It only cost 2500 yen!! Let’s go!!

(blog name: Denshi Renji)

🤍You know Denji, I always thought his name was short for Denshi Renji.

I mumble incomprehensibly when I sleep, and it’s really annoying (other members told me) so wake me up if I fall asleep ✋🏻

🐇Who’s beside you right now? Do you have a recent story of Oogawa Aya?

(Blog name: Sarari toshita Sarariiman)

🤍I’m lonely on my bed writing my blog alone (..)

The country’s little sister Aya-chanman, yesterday she stacked 46 pancakes in a game, I can cook pancakes at least 🥞

 🐇Teresa-chan what’s a food that you suddenly want to eat?

(Blog nam,e: chibimashiko)

🤍Meat

I want to go to Churrasco one day🥓🥩🍗🍖

🐇I recently took a mock exam just like a real one, in the morning and afternoon I had an hour to spare, in cases like that what do you do Teresa-chan?

If you have a food that you always eat before a practice test or an actual test what is it! Or give me your recommendation!

(blog Name: Tsuribori)

🤍It would probably be napping 😪😴💤

Supplying me with sugar makes me sleepy so I’m not sure.. the people around me had Ramune!

🐇Was the green cardigan that Iketya was wearing for Nogisatsu itchy? I like the color so I was interested!

(blog name: i)

🤍It wasn’t itchy but it was airy and fluffy ( ♡_♡ )

I’m currently in the process of adding more greenish clothes🕊‪🌱

🐇Please tell me your recommended way for getting over the cold. I’d be happy if you were to respond💗

(blog name: kuri gohan)

🤍I recommend getting leg warmers

Last year I stayed in a gorge and it was so cold that I thought I was going to die but when I wore my leg warmers (this is what I wanted to say…!) is when I wore them.

I also recommend ear muffs, a scarf to go around your neck is good too 👂🏻"

🐇Tere usa-chan if you were to have any Nogizaka Member model for a wood carving who would you get? Senior member, 5th generation member ect…

(Blog name: Kingdom)

🤍That’s a tough one…( -᷅"-᷄ )

Making a sculpture of Kubo Shiori-chan would be the most trouble-free to get through! Her dance and cheek lines look really smooth💭

🐇Which is better individual or national meet and greets?

(Blog name: Live mint)

🤍I wonder which one has more regulars? Is what I think unconsciously then get sad, would you be mad if I said come to as many as you can? (ᵒ̴̶̷‪-ᵒ̴̶̷ )

🐇I always plan to say something every time we talk but Teresa-chan is so cute I always forget everything, suk…is what it becomes, is this because of the Tereru disease?

(blog name: Naruhodo)

🤍hmmmmm, this seems like a really severe case. Let’s gets you an injection yay yay 💉💉💉 ´-

🐇Nikuman, anman, pizzaman, out of these three which do you like most??

(Blog name: Nikki)

🤍You don’t even need to ask, meat of course it’s meat

Recently on New Nogizaka Star Tanjou! Live in Kobe, the pork bun I ate there was really good 😋I wonder where it came from…Go ask Io-chan

🐇What is your favorite drawing in manga and anime?

(blog name: Curry Rice no Shinseki)

🤍Manga →Togashi Yoshihiro’s works

Anime →Sailor Moon

When it comes to anime I really like cell animation(ᵒ̴̶̷‪-ᵒ̴̶̷ )

🐇Do you treasure and carry your fortune? Or do you tie it up at the shrine? Last year I put mine in my wallet and when I finally took it out of my wallet I felt like I really worked hard last year and it felt really good 😊

(Blog name: Takosu)

🤍If I get excellent luck then I’ll take it home with me! If not in order to make it excellent luck I tie it up and go home. When it comes to fortune slips I also put them in my wallet, sometimes when I see it I’ll open it up and read it but I’m never sure on how I should say goodbye to it…

🐇Bread is bread but which bread is best? 🍞、🥐、🥖

(blog name: Nikoyaka)

🤍The soft parts in French Bread

Rather than fluffy or crumbly I prefer a strong doughy texture.

🐇Teresa-chan if you were to live the world of any manga or movie which one would you like to live in?

(blog name: Negative Samurai)

🤍The world of Harry Potter! When I was in elementary school I wanted to attend Hogwarts(ᵒ̴̶̷‪-ᵒ̴̶̷ )

I don’t think I would like to live in the world of Attack on Titan or Evangelion…

🐇Have you ever played any RPGs?? 🌳⚔️🛡Is there are game that you’ve been wanting to try recently? 🎮📺

(blog name: Mikan omikuji)

🤍Is Undertale an RPG? I want to try it but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to clear a boss :( ;´꒳`;)

I was addicted a RPG called Dera Quest, the hero’s name is Teretsa (3 characters)

🐇Teresa-san is there something that you wish you could do forever? →I’m going to guess! Sleeping!! Lol

(blog name: Karashi/renkon)

🤍Corrrrrrrrrect!

So let’s sleep together（  ֊  ̫ ֊）

🐼Tere-pan, if you could name a new panda in Japan what would you call it?

(blog name: Nekofunjyaata)

🤍Teretere

🐇Recently your family got a dog but if you were to live with any animal while you are living by yourself what anime would you buy? Or are you the type that likes to be alone?

(blog name: Terepin oiru)

🤍I don’t wanna be alone anymoreeeeeeeeee😭

I really want to get a dog, a big one!

🐇ONLY TERESA!!! Out of all the 5th generation members you’re the only person I wanted to see and support and so I applied for the birthday live and didn’t win a single ticket 🥺Can you make aʃʃ( ´👁∀👁` )ﾉ゛ﾖｼﾖｼ for me

(blog name: oo! Kamiyo)

🤍Please love me more (●´^｀●)

In other words please come see me

There there

🐇Winter is really dry and it makes my skin rough, Teresa, do you have any way of overcoming this?

(blog name: Iwashimizu)

🤍Moisturizing is important! Make sure to have Vaseline with you when you go out, you can use it both your lips and your finger tips (*´³`*)

Apparently puckering does the opposite and dries out your lips so be careful

🐇Are you fussy when it comes to people giving you food?

(blog name: Bonjour)

🤍Recently I’ve been addicted to eggs, things like tamago kake gohan🍚🍳 𓈒𓂂𓏸

I like it when the yolk has a deep color to it is what I thought but apparently that has nothing to do with how fresh it is but it changes based on what the chicken ate.

When the yolk (is this really yolk?) is an egg that I really want to try!

🐇After eating something sweet I find myself craving something salty…what should I do? Lol

(Blog name: Hachimitsu ni mitarashi ni satoshoyu)

🤍The other day when I was eating French toast Satsuki-chan said the same thing. I told her “why don’t you try licking salt”

The current kind of popular thing for the 5th generation members is Truffle salt

You can buy it at the supermarket, Hii-chan brought it to our Christmas party and when we tried it we really liked it. Iroha has it with chicken.

🐇What kind of hairstyle did you have for you coming of age ceremony? I want to use it as a reference for when I participate in the ceremony!

(Blog name: yumeyume)

🤍I asked for a side bread with the long side hanging beside my face ⸜🌷︎⸝‍

As an accessory the hair and make up stylist said that a flower would suit it and so they chose one for me, the big point is the lively braids!

🐇Are you type of person that invites members out or that gets invited out?

(Blog name: GIGABYTE)

🤍I’m a longer

When I go out with Aruno and Hii-chan…before I know it there are a pair of chopsticks in front of me.

🐇For the 20±SWEET when you were doing the kite flying, were you able to do it right away? 🪁

(Blog name: Shitsurei, mamimamita)

🤍This is very difficult………..:( ;´꒳`;)

On the day of the shoot the weather was really good, clear blue skies, but since the weather was so good there was no wind.

I sprinted as hard as I could on the sandy beach and I ran until I was so tired I couldn’t run anymore but because I’m so slow the kit never lifted off the ground.

 Finally the staff managed to get it in the air and they gave it to me and I started running ε=ε=ε=┌(     '-'  )┘

🐇Do you prefer checkers or stripes?

(blog name: Tereyaki niku! Jyuu Jyuu💭)

🤍I like to wear checkered clothes, but I think I wear more stripped clothes. Ikeda’s usual casual clothes are plain….

🐇Let’s fail some courses!!!

1, Teresa- 🍞meet and greet was so fun!! Is it ok if I go again?? 🥺

2, For breakfast do you prefer 🍞or 🍚?

(Blog name: Kanneru tere ojisan)

🤍Please do your best at school! Teresa-power injection 💉💦

1, I’ll be waiting (≧∀≦)

Please come and see me soon 🤲🏻⸒⸒

2, I want to say brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrread… but I’m Teresa-han (rice)

🐇Do you often get confused on when to find a good time to talk to some? I kind of know when it comes to my sister….

(blog name: ???????(  ˙-˙  )???????)

🤍The other day I found a time when I asked Aruno which Nogizaka MV they liked and the MV they like is….a secret but I’m super glad that we like the same thing

 THE END!

〜〜〜

The other day I watched the documentary of the third generation members of Sakurazaka46-san. Watching it reminded me a lot of when I took the 5th generation member auditions.

At the same time, both then and now I realized my feelings hadn’t changed. At that time I was desperately pursing the goal of become a member of Nogizaka46, and seeing how everyone is so far from the ideal self that I envisioned makes me feel better.

However, since joining Nogizaka through all the jobs I’ve done and through all the care I received from all the staff members and with the help of the others I’ve been appearing alongside I believe they’ve given me a lot of strength.

More than anything, if I didn’t debut nobody would know about us but it is thanks to the fans who found me and cheered for ne is how I are currently being supported. If the fans weren’t here, I wouldn’t be anywhere close to where I are now.

 I currently have nothing.

Even when compared to the other members there is so much I can’t do. I can’t dance or sang, I can’t even talk to the senior members (seeing the other 5th generation members getting close to the senior members gets me down) I don’t have many redeeming qualities, I know not having confidence isn’t good but I can’t help it.

However the reason I can be proud is because of my fans. The reason I can be confidence is because I’m cared for by all of these amazing people. Thank you all so very much.

 Within all of the help I’ve been given, I need to work a little harder so I can repay all of you. I’m going to keep doing my best.

Let’s meet again, I love you all

23.01.18 #Terepan blog #25 (I’m going to give your heart a zukkyun and make it niko niko, otherwise I’ll Tere-punch it 🤜🏻😵‍💫｡ﾟ)

https://www.nogizaka46.com/s/n46/diary/detail/101065?ima=5630

[doyouevermakeasound]

The Homeland Senators

This is the start of my whump story centered around my OC’s.  Fair warning, it will end up with more political whump than what’s shown now.  Also, it might be more of a slow burn.  I’ve got quite a bit written for this character so if you would like to get tagged when there are updates, let me know!  I’ll create a masterlist soon and when I post the second part I will link it.

CW: Political whump, knife mention, kidnapping

The Homeland Senators

There was the usual hustle and bustle around the camp.  They were lucky that they found this abandoned city; sure it had been mostly blown to bits but some of the concrete structures still stood.  The Insurgents were gaining more people day by day and this place was a gold mine.  They had multiple base camps that were under the radar from the government of Ropral and this one was quickly growing to be one of the larger ones.

Noah was sitting in one of the common areas trying to keep his mind preoccupied.  For the most part he tried to stay in the more secluded parts of camp, if he stayed in the more populated areas he tended to be inundated with questions about different plans with the Insurgents.  Ones that he either didn’t know the answers to or it was classified between him and the other higher ups.  

“Hey, some of us are talking about going to town.  You want to join us?” Caz asked. 

Noah looked up from working on sharpening his knife as he mulled over the question.  “Where are ya headed?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I think to one of the outer markets.  Not one of the nice ones though, one where it would be safe for you to go too.”

He cracked a smile, “How nice of you to think about me.  Those are the markets where you’re most likely going to get ripped off though.”

“Well yeah, but less likely to report you.”

He waved her off, “You can go without me.  I should probably stay close to comms anyways.”

She began to turn, “Okay, suit yourself!”

Noah went back to focusing on sharpening his knife after he brushed some of his moppish black hair behind his ears.  He had other things that he could be doing today aside from this.  After a few more moments he put away his sharpening stone and looked around before getting up to go to their surveillance building.

There were a few people standing guard outside of the building who nodded towards him as he walked by.  The first room of the building didn’t have much but as soon as he crossed the threshold into what used to be a den to where their communication center was set up.  

There were others who were crowded around a set of various screens and computers.  They were listening in on a mission that was currently working on spying on a camp East of here.  Wildlands Work Camp housed some political prisoners that were detained by Ropral, mostly those who showed support for the Insurgents.  

Only one person looked up as Noah entered the room.  He looked over the screens until he found the one that was associated with Kylan.  He pulled up a chair to watch the video feed coming through a small badge cam from his feed.  

“-like there’s a blind spot with the towers on the North side.  Still heavily fortified though.”  Some hand gesturing could be seen on the side of the camera.

Isa leaned forward and pushed a button to speak over the comms, “Can you see how many are up in the towers?”  Her robotic prosthetic finger remained hovering over the button when she was done speaking.  Her prosthesis extended up towards her elbow. 

There was a moment of silence, save for the gentle breathing coming over the speakers.  “Hard to say, maybe three?  They’ve definitely upped their numbers from the last camp we liberated.”

Isa restrained herself from showing a look of disappointment, the last liberation was possible because they grew too comfortable.  This one would be more difficult to pull off.  “How many people are at the front gate?”

There was some shuffling coming from the screen, “Let me get a better look at that front gate for you.  Give me a minute.”  Kylan was climbing down from his spot that he found up in the trees.

Noah looked at the two other screens as they silently followed Kylan around the perimeter of the camp.  The three of them were being careful to remain deep in the tree line to avoid being seen.  

When the three of them moved closer to the front gates Noah felt unease grow within him.  He went back to watching Kylan’s screen, there were a large number of guards waiting outside.  

“Looks like they’re waiting for something.”  Isa noted.

They waited until an armored truck began to make its way towards the waiting guards.  The car pulled around so that the inside of the truck was pointed away from the three of them hiding in the tree line.  The doors were opened and they couldn’t see who was being led out of the armored truck.

“Wait here,” Kylan said to the others.  He moved closer to the edge of the tree line.

“Don’t get caught Kylan,” Isa said sternly through clenched teeth.

He gave a thumbs up to the camera, he worked to situate himself so that he could see who was now being led through the gates.  

“That’s Senator Rihanni.”  Isa noted, a line of worry began to cross her forehead.  “What did she do to get thrown into the Wildlands?”  She murmured to herself.  It was a few moments before she looked over at Noah, “Noah, I need you to get in contact with Blue Bird.  See if they know why Ropral is throwing a prominent senator into a work camp and why they aren’t saying anything about it in the news.”

“Yes sir,” He stood up and looked at Kylan’s screen once more before grabbing his own earpiece and leaving the surveillance room.

Noah walked with a purpose towards one of the places that he and Kylan set up a room at.  He wanted to grab a few extra weapons and send a signal before going into Barrat.  After climbing a set of broken stairs he walked into their small room before going over to a radio transmitter and sending a single tone over a channel.  He waited.  

A few moments later a short note came over the radio. 

“Great.”  He turned the radio transmitter’s volume down and placed it into his bag.  He then left for Barrat to meet up with Blue Bird.

He kept his head down in the city, no one would notice him while he was in the crowd of other displaced citizens.  He turned down an alley and took a few turns before leaning against a wall at the end of the way.  He could easily see if anyone was following him or Blue Bird when they finally arrived.  He knew others would avoid looking their way, they wouldn’t want to be a witness to anything.  Information was a liability.

He waited a while until she turned the corner, her cloak pulled tight around her, she walked with great purpose.  

“Shit’s going down.”  She spoke in a hushed tone.

“Do you know anything about Senator Rihanni?”  Noah was quick to ask.

She nodded, “Yes, senator’s are being taken.  Not a word is being released to the public.”

“Which ones have been taken so far?”

“Rihanni.  Baz.  Parker.  Charlotte.  Notice the trend here?”

Noah groaned, “Fuck, they’re taking all of the ones in the Homeland Party.”

“Yes,” She hissed.  “The only one that’s left is Renato, but I doubt he’s got much time left.”

Noah placed a finger up to his ear and pushed a small button.  “Isa?”

It was a moment before he could hear her voice, “Yes, what is it?”

“Rihanni isn’t the only one who was detained.  They have all of the Homeland Senators except for Renato.”

Another pause, “I’m sending some others to watch over Renato.”

“What are the senators from the Uniformity party doing?”

“They’ve been in meetings all week.  They won’t even let service workers or note takers sit in on them.  I’m in the blind here.”

There was a moment of silence between them before Noah spoke up again.  “I’m going to check in with someone else.  If I find something out that is useful to you I’ll let you know.”

She nodded, “Thanks.  I’ll signal if I figure out what the fuck is going on.”  She walked away with her head down, hands plunged into the pockets of her cloak before she blended back into the crowd.

He sent out another signal to a different contact called Proto and waited.  No signal was returned.  He tried once more.  Nothing.  Noah left the alleyway and began walking.

Senator Rihanni, she was the one that led the Homeland Party.  They were focused on reducing the power that the Uniformity Party held.  The Uniformity Party were the ones who began the work camps and they were the ones who worked to suppress the people that the Insurgents worked to protect.  Ruby Knowles was the ringleader of it all.  She was on a quick path to becoming a dictator, something that the Insurgents kept trying to prevent.  The removal of the senators may have been the final nail in the coffin.

He walked by the shop that his other contact worked at.  He refused to go in, he didn’t want to be tied to any one of their locations that they frequented.  They weren’t working today.  He reached in his bag and signaled again as he walked.  Still nothing.  

He kept trying to signal Proto.  When a few hours passed he had to accept that Proto was now compromised and left to go back to camp.  He didn’t feel like he had accomplished anything that day.

Next

[twenytwenytwo]

Oct 15 2022 (7:15am)

Had a bit of a rough sleep last night, though I was mostly snoozing from like 9:30ish to 6:00am, so I did sleep enough, I think. lol. But yeah I kinda wound myself up with negative energy last night/eve.

Loosely made plans with the guys, like last weekend, and they never materialized. This frustrates me because I can’t help but notice how infrequently I see my friends. During this period of my life, seeing them is a little more important to me than it has been in the past, when I was busy busy busy (and seeing them frequently). I see one of them like once a month at best. Puts me in a vibe where I need to consciously work myself out of being like “wtf, do i even keep trying?”.

Long story short, I really savoured the negative feelings and brought them to bed, where they swelled into formless life panic in my half-conscious state. It’s funny, when I open my eyes, it instantly sobers up and I feel my normal “well, it’s not that big of a deal” return. I feel like this morning, too, maybe a bit groggy.

But yeah, that’s annoying. Moreso it disrupting my sleep. What does that mean? I dunno. Nothing?

(2:44pm)

Lawson came by with Travis and got his synth. The three of us jammed for a little, twas okay. I tagged along with them to Tania’s for food. Came back to my place and they left.

Still have the weird, uninterested vibe from Law. Oh well. There are two ways to take it: that he’s avoiding me because it’s unpleasant to hang out with me, or that he experiencing a time in his life where hanging out with me isn’t top of the list.

I am pleasant to hang with. I don’t make people feel shitty. Maybe I put pressure on people, but that’s inevitable when you’re in a co-ambitious relationship.

No one has harmed me. People are experiencing they’re own confusing plot line, navigating their own mysterious mental make-up, experimenting, making mistakes. Nobody every set out to hurt me in subtle ways or large ways; if they did it’s because they were confused and hurt themselves, trying to deal with challenging emotions.

I am not behind. My circumstance is adequate. Any shortcomings are inevitable lessons and stepping stones that provide nuance and realness to my life. I’d like to make more great music. I’d like to make a good living. I’d love my friends and family and have everybody feel good and at peace.

I am skilled in the very field that I set out to be in years ago. My circumstance is an extension of a good choice I made in the past to develop myself as an artist first. Here I am. A capable artist. Success. But now, there are other things I have come to value in the process. Having an enjoyable job, I’ve learned, is something I want. I’ve learned other things too.

***The only way to honour the good times gone by, the good ideas, the good changes, is to continue the process of creation in the present moment with an equal amount of passion and fearlessness. That is the only good option. Maybe that’s why it’s so easy and satisfying to reminisce; because when we look back on the good times, we see the good distilled from the other randomness, and we can see and feel the spirit with which we wish to imbue our current moment with, and future moments. That is nostalgia, an acknowledgement of what we’ve loved, more precisely the form it took on. We musn’t fixate on the forms when we reminisce, but the feelings. We must bring that feeling forth into now by acting with excitement, love, fearlessness, lightness, and fun. To discover the future the same way we did when we were younger, with nothing to be afraid of departing from. That is nostalgia reanimated into the present.

[books]

Tumblr Exclusive: Forestborn

Do you like shapeshifters, epic quests, magic, dark forests, and obstinate princes? Well, have we got an exclusive excerpt for you!

Forestborn is an upcoming @torteen novel by debut author Elayne Audrey Becker. Becker graduated from Vassar College with a BA in classics and history. She is currently continuing her education at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland after time spent as an editor with a New York publisher. She grew up with a lake and woods as her backyard, spending long days outside and visiting national parks with her family.

Forestborn will be available at bookstores everywhere from August 31. Read the exclusive excerpt below, and thanks again to Elayne for sharing her inspiration moodboard with us!

Forestborn By Elayne Audrey Becker

One

I find her deep in the Old Forest, facedown in the dirt. 

Sharp pain needles my palms where I’ve balled my fists so tight, the nails have carved half-moon marks into the skin. Snaking across the twig-strewn ground, gnarled roots press against my boots like a warning as I roll the young woman onto her back. Best to be sure.

No, she is certainly dead. Cold, stiff, and hungry like the rest; even with forest debris masking much of her shirt, the threadbare cotton dips in unmistakable rivulets across her bony frame. I swallow my disappointment and push her eyelids shut, wanting to spare her kin the sight of those empty, pointless eyes.

“Sorry,” I murmur, sitting back on my heels. “I’m guessing you didn’t deserve this.”

Around us, the trees lean inward and down with ominous uniformity, leaves and branches straining against their holds, drawn to the dead woman as if tethered by ropes. The sway, the humans call it. I ignore the prickling in my belly. They’ll straighten out soon enough when the magic leaves her body. 

With a final nod, I push to my feet and wend my way back to the forest’s edge. It’s a close wood, with broad oaks in summer bloom crowding the grassy floor, their leafy canopy admitting shafts of sunlight that glitter like crystal chandeliers. All in all, too peaceful a setting for someone driven to madness to die alone. I breathe it in deep to savor the scent while I can, grateful that for whatever reason, these trees never seem drawn to the magic in my own blood. I’ve had enough of vengeful wilderness to last a lifetime.

“Well?” Seraline asks, her knuckles nearly white where they clutch the hem of her shirt. 

I shake my head. “Dead.”

Her shoulders sink. Though Seraline is sturdy as iron when she’s in her aunt’s tannery, shaping leather into draft horses’ yokes, standing a determined two paces behind the tree line now, she seems shakeable as snow.

“Come on,” I say, nodding to the stony town just across the open fields. “You’re going to be late.” I don’t ask if she plans to examine the body for herself. Seraline may have insisted on coming as a show of support, but our friendship has many limits, her discomfort with the dead and dying the least of them. 

After a brief hesitation, Seraline falls into step at my side, sweeping her seeing stick across the ground in broad strokes. “Poor thing.”

I nod, my jaw clenched tight. 

This time of year, the late summer air hangs heavy even in the early morning, enough that the back of my neck is already slick with sweat. The barley fields remain mercifully empty as we pick our way through the dusty rows, but still I plow forward with my head down and shoulders bent, half from habit and half spurred by the hour. Seraline isn’t the only one who’s running behind. 

“Will you not come with us?” she asks, her head tipping to the side as we near the town. “Aren’t you due back in Roanin, anyway?”

“I can’t,” I reply, making it sound like an apology. I’m not really sure why we still play this game when we both know it’s futile. “I have a few things to take care of first.”

“Today of all days,” she snorts.

“You know how it is.” In truth, I’d give my right arm to stay away from the capital today. But there’s no help for it.

“Her husband deserves to know,” Seraline adds after a while. “The two of them were inseparable.”

“He will know. The trail wasn’t hard to follow.”

Seraline is always trying to persuade me to talk to the deceased’s families. She believes I have a softer manner than many in uniform, and once she even called me heartless for refusing. That time hurt the most. But it isn’t my job to report any deaths I uncover to next of kin. Only to the king. And it’s not like she’s stepping up to volunteer, anyway.

Briarwend is a humble farming town that stretches all of three streets, a collection of squared off stone shops that deal in necessity rather than charm. Its weather-worn residents are the same. When I began seeking intel here four years ago, long days tending the surrounding fields made the people lazy and open over a couple of pints. Lately, they’re just hungry, poor soil and rising taxes leaving gaping holes that only tempers seem to fill. 

Each night under dwindling lamplight and over stained, sticky tables, the pub dwellers deal out anger and judgment like tossing seeds across the earth. The battered forest walker I helped home last night is not the only magical person I’ve found bleeding on cobbled streets. The humans’ anger is growing fists.

Seraline’s family is fixing their horse’s harness to an old wooden cart when we reach their cottage home. Most others have long since departed.

“Where have you been?” her mother demands, tightening the leather straps. The roan mare stamps a hoof, ears flicking nervously in my presence. “We should have left hours ago!”

“Lela needed my help. And you’re not ready, anyway.” Seraline shrugs.

“Nor are you. Breakfast is gone, so you’ll just have to wait. Go get changed.” She studiously avoids my eye, as if I’m not even there. 

Seraline bids me farewell with a light touch on the shoulder, which causes her little sister to quickly interlace two pairs of twisted fingers and pull them apart. The sign to ward off bad fortune.  

“You shouldn’t indulge my sister,” the dreadful Arden says once she’s gone, stomping over and swiping a greasy hand across his forehead. By far the weakest sibling in this family of four. “Seraline is delicate. She can’t be tramping about the kingdom with the likes of you.”

Which is ironic, really, since he was eager enough to sidle close last year, when he thought empty flattery might earn him a kiss. That was before a too-often empty belly soured his tongue, before he learned who and what I was. And though I truly could not care less what this boy thinks, I’m dismayed to find my stomach still burns with anger and something close to shame. My gaze drops to his pant leg, which bears splotches of dried blood from the night before. 

“Problem?” Arden sneers, white skin burned red from long days in the sun. 

A slow tingling feeling bubbles up from my core, threads of numbness that tiptoe across my arms and legs. I force myself to breathe deeply, to beat the threads back. “I know it was you,” I mutter. 

He traces his chapped lips with two fingers, beady eyes darting to his mother before he leans forward, his smile stiffening. “You know nothing,” he hisses.

“You forget I have certain resources at my disposal.” I raise a hand in front of his flaking face, where my nails have sharpened into claws. “And that I know where you live.”

I stare until a satisfying trace of fear tinges Arden’s expression before stomping away toward the town’s single inn, which is little more than a guesthouse with four creaking rooms. If Helos were here, he would tell me to not take the bait, that I’m better than that. What he never seems to understand is that I’m not better than anything at all.

[landinoandco]

A Game of Chess

Carlos Sainz x reader

Request from @leesuhnakamoto-krys "Carlos Sainz x reader fluff"

Warnings: fluff, a slight reference if you squint.

Word count: 2.2 k

Requests are open :)

This year - due to the current pandemic - there were to be two races in Austria, however to keep with the theme of ‘no two races the same’ they were to be called different things: the Styrian grand prix for the first race and the Austrian Grand Prix for the second. This weekend saw the first of the two and your boyfriend Carlos Sainz finished a respectable 6th place behind his former teammate and current best friend Lando Norris. 

The majority of the grid had decided to stay in the surrounding area, making the most of the time they had - not only to keep on training but to explore. 

Travelling the world with Carlos was a dream come true and you were so lucky to be able to do your job on the move - you were a travel blogger/vlogger and were pretty well known for it as well. A large following of people that enjoyed watching your weekly lifestyle and travel vlogs alongside the photography that came with it. 

It was the Monday following the race so Carlos had taken it as a rest day, you had woken up that morning in his arms, tracing circles on one of them as you both spoke about your plans for the day. 

“And a haircut is what I really need.” He said to you, as you moved a strand that had fallen into his eyes. 

“No, I like it long, you look more -” You paused. “Mature.” Giggling, you moved your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. He shook his head at you, a large smile plastered onto his face. He leaned forward onto his forearms, connecting your lips together for a brief second before pulling away and rolling out of bed. Leaving you, still huddled in all of the covers, watching him as he strode across the room to the hotel chest of drawers, pulling out two t-shirts; one of which he put on and the other being chucked in your general direction. 

“So, cariño, what is your plan for today?” Carlos asked, flopping onto the bed and looking up to you.

“I think I’m going to go and explore the town, some of my followers have recommended a few places so I think I am going to check those out, take a few photos-” You trailed off as he began to draw patterns onto the palm of your hand. You smiled fondly at him, you had met just before lockdown completely by chance after you bumped into him in a train station. He had asked for your number and feeling like he had given you no reason to say no, you did and as it turns out, it was the best decision of your life. “What is your plan for the day ahead, mi Amor.” 

“I think I am meeting Lando this afternoon at a café down the road. I’m going to teach him to play chess.” He said proudly, emphasising the word ‘chess.’ 

“Chess?” You questioned, reaching over for the top and putting it on. It was one of his old team McLaren t-shirts, you scoffed at his still apparent loyalty to the team; admittedly it was your favourite but Ferrari didn’t need to know that. 

“Yes.” Carlos stated, he then pointed at the t-shirt you were wearing. “I would recommend not leaving the hotel room with that t-shirt on. I don’t want to get into trouble.” He fought to keep the smile off of his lips. Your eyes lit up, “I wouldn’t even dream of it, mi Amor.”

You had agreed with Carlos that as soon as you had finished what you had set out to do that morning, you would meet him in the café alongside Lando. “Do you fancy playing a game of chess with me, later?” You had asked before you went your separate ways. 

Carlos gave a lopsided grin and kissed your forehead. “We will see, cariño, we will see.” With that he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked down the street. Styria was a beautiful town, a handful of buildings situated in the mass of rolling hills and mountain tops that covered the landscape for as far as the eye could see. 

You had walked up to a stone viewing point at the peak of the town, a small bench that overlooked the south past Styria and into the Austrian countryside.

You loved this time you got to yourself, it allowed for you to sit and reminisce; bathing in all of the memories that lead up to this point in your life. You thought back to the day Carlos asked you to move to Italy with him - due to him changing teams. It almost broke your relationship, the thought of leaving all of your family and friends behind in England but in the end you decided it was an adventure too thrilling to pass on...

It was a breezy summer evening in London, the clouds had blanketed the city and a faint rumble of the traffic could be heard from your apartment. Carlos had messaged you earlier that day, asking if he could talk to you when he got home - for the remainder of that afternoon nerves had settled comfortably in the pit of your stomach. At last you heard the unlocking of the door, your head whipped around to see a tired looking Carlos to fall through the door with a sigh. As soon as he looked up and saw you sat on the sofa, his eyes gleamed. “Mi amor.” He said tiredly, his brows knitted momentarily before he nodded his head. “Right, my text message.” You nodded unsure of where this conversation was heading. It was early days in your relationship so anything was possible. 

“I got an offer from Ferrari-” He started, making his way over to you, you watched him intently, nibbling on your lower lip. “It’s an offer that in this industry you don’t turn down, obviously there is a lot to consider because it would mean leaving McLaren and-” He sighed, “This country behind.” 

A line appeared between your brows, you didn’t speak for fear of interrupting his train of thought. He took your hand in his. 

“If I signed with Ferrari, I would have to move to Italy-” Your mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Which is why I wanted to ask you if you would come with me.” 

You definitely didn’t expect him to ask this, any expression that was on your face before had been wiped as you took to staring. “I’m asking a big thing and obviously you don’t have to answer straight away.” He rushed in response to your dumbfounded expression. 

For the next few days - after that conversation - the atmosphere between the pair of you had become tense, you had decided to call your sister and explained the whole situation to her. In a nutshell she called you an idiot for not saying yes immediately.  

“I’ve been thinking-” You began to Carlos that evening . “I would love to move to Italy with you. It’s a good opportunity to really write our story, explore the world - together. It will be such a great adventure.” Carlos didn’t need to ask you twice and he enveloped you into his arms and span you around, meeting your lips with his. 

“I love you.” He said, placing his forehead on yours. That night was also the first time those three words were exchanged. “I love you too.” You replied sweetly, your lips brushing his as you did so. 

You smiled fondly at the memory. You were so lucky to have found Carlos - actually you found each other - you like to believe that it was the universe who had a hand in it. Carlos was your soulmate and you were honoured to be able to call him that. 

Deciding it was time you made your way back to him, you started on your journey back to the main town - down the steep, winding path, birds darting overhead and the chirp of crickets sounding in the hedgerows. 

You reached the café and as soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the smell of warm coffee, you went over to the counter and ordered yourself a latte - casting your gaze around the old fashioned shop, you were surprised to see that only a few people were sitting inside; an older couple, who had taken extreme interest in the pair you were here to see. You chuckled to yourself as the barista placed your drink onto the counter in front of you. 

“Drew quite the crowd earlier.” He leant over the counter, pointing to the pair, they were stuck in an intense game of chess and by the looks of it - Lando was winning. Carlos looked up, shaking his head as Lando moved another one of his pieces off of the board; as he did he noticed you standing there and waved you over. 

“Yes, I bet they did.” You chuckled, taking the drink and nodding ‘thanks’ to him. Carlos pulled a chair up for you and motioned to the chess board in anguish, “You will not believe it, mi Amor. He is beating me.” Lando was sat on the other side wearing a cocky grin and his arms crossed onto the table. 

“So what you are trying to tell me, Carli , is that you taught Lando too well and now he is beating you.” You pointed out, the corners of your eyes crinkled. Carlos only glared at you, sighing dramatically. Lando played incredibly well and did take the victory, punching his arms in the air as he called out ‘checkmate.’ 

“The student becomes the master.” He cheered, high fiving you and offered to shake Carlos’ hand but Carlos pouted and pushed it away with his index finger. “No. How on earth did you win? I’ve only just taught you.” He cried out. 

You looked at Lando as Lando looked at you, both fighting the urge to laugh. You couldn’t hold it in as you held onto the table - both doubling over. 

“I love you, Carli, I really do but - boy - are you a sore loser.” You managed to say. 

“Well, cheers, mate.” Lando said getting up, wiping the tears from the corner of his eyes. “I’m going to head off now. Dinner with Jon.” You waved as he left, fist bumping Carlos on his way past. 

“Do you fancy a game with me now?” You asked, your elbow was resting on the table so you leant on the heel of your palm. 

“On one condition.” Carlos said, setting the chess board back up, “As long as you promise not to beat me like Lando just did.” 

“Of course, mi Amor.” You said, a hint of mocking in your tone. You admired the way he scrunched up his nose as he concentrated, working out what his first move was going to be. 

“The aim of chess is to be in control of your opponent, you want to be able to trick them into doing exactly what you want them to do.” Carlos said, moving his first piece. “You have to play with dominance.” He added theatrically. 

“You want me to be dominant?” You repeated incredulously, a smirk toying with your lips. “Well, why didn’t you say so. After all this time-” 

“Mi Amor.” He gasped, lowering his voice. “Not like that -” He stammered, a pink flush rising up his neck. You only winked in reply and made your move. 

“Go on, tell me more about chess.” You urged him on, watching as he went to make his move. He paused, met your gaze and narrowed his eyes. You shrugged innocently and he carried on; his gaze softened as a reminiscent haze coated his eyes. 

“You know,” Carlos began, placing the chess piece down and resting both of his elbows onto the table. “When my dad first met my mum, he taught her how to play chess and they used to sit in the kitchen on a Sunday morning after church and play. It was then my mum who taught me, on the weekends when my dad was away racing; we used to sit in the kitchen together on a Sunday after church and play. It was always the highlight of my weekend.” You watched as he fondly spoke about his family, warmth filled your chest. 

“You teach me well then and maybe we could turn it into a tradition.” You spoke gently, reaching over the table to take his hand in yours. Awe transformed his face as he gazed at you. 

Many years later you would end up making it a tradition, as you taught your daughter how to play on a Sunday after church as she watched her daddy race. You would tell her the story every time you would go to play and every time you would think about how lucky you were to have bumped into that stranger in the train station. They say that you will find your soulmate when you least expect it and after all these years - you would have to agree. 

[sassyhobbits]

rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺

ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!

~~~

In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.

He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.

It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.

Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.

Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.

He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.

The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.

“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.

“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”

Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.

Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.

Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”

Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.

Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.

Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.

Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.

Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.

A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”

“No more so than you.”

Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”

He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.

“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”

Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.

Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.

It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.

“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”

Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”

She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.

“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.

He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”

“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”

He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”

Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”

“Who the hell has ever told you that?”

“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”

“Of course, Fireheart.”

They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.

…

Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.

Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.

“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”

Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.

The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.

It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.

However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.

Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.

Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.

“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”

Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.

Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.

“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”

And then, something amazing happened.

Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.

Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”

And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.

Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.

Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.

“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”

He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.

“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.

“As you often are, my love.”

She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.

“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.

“You think?”

She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”

“Like her mother.”

Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”

“Maybe a little.”

They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.

Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Three: Bye Bye

Warning: This series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader relationship.

Summary: After freeing the widows from chemical subjugation and destroying the red room, you and Yelena finally settle down.

Part 1 & Part 2

The widows welcome you, the ones you trained with and the ones you didn’t. After Dreykov was gone and you had nothing but time. Melina and Alexei go to work on replicating the antidote. Creating enough to free all chemically subjugated agents.

It’ll take time. But the more you free the more are willing to help. Some of the widows just leave once they are given freedom. Ready to wash their hands of all of this and start living. You understand that more than anything. Eventually the operation is running on such a large scale they hardly need you at all.

Natasha hasn’t reached out since you separated after the red room. Probably off with the Avengers trying to save the world again. No one blames her, for her inability to be still. Not even Yelena.

“So,” you plop down on the couch beside Yelena. “What’s the plan now?”

“I don’t know.” She admits, staring up at the ceiling. “To be honest, I didn’t think I was going to make it this far.”

“Yeah.” You tug at a loose strand of her dirty blonde hair. “That makes two of us.”

“We could pretend to be normal.” Yelena offers. “What would a normal person do?”

“Don’t know,” you shrug. “I’ve never been one.”

“Maybe...settle down.” Yelena’s eyes are far away.

“Would you have wanted to-“ You break off, trying to sort out the words. “I mean if you could…would you have a baby?”

She raises her brows, “I never thought about it.” A long pause. “I wouldn’t know how to be a mother.”

Neither would you. You’ll never be right. Whatever that is, was, or might have been. Always a little too guarded and rough around the edges. “You never waste time thinking about things you can’t have.” You sink farther into the cushions, her pinky skates over your own. Taking the invitation you twine your fingers together.

“I thought about you.” She lowers her eyes to the coffee table. “Everyday. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“I-“

“The red room took that from me too.”

You shake your head at her. “They can never take anything from you or anyone else ever again,” you whisper. “And to be clear you can have me.”

A laugh rumbles out of her chest at the news. “I can?”

“I mean if you still want me.” You tease, “I know that the chase is half the fun for you. So I can keep on running. I’m one foot out the door-“

“I am tired of running.” Yelena murmurs, curling up against your side.

“Me too.” Your chin rests atop her head.

“Then stop doing it!” She scolds, slapping your arm playfully in retaliation.

“I will if you will.” You know why she runs. The same reason you do. Because you’re afraid. That maybe some parts of you are too broken to love.

She mulls it over for a moment. “Truce. I don’t run. You don’t run.”

“Deal.” You give her fingers a squeeze.

“Except into the face of danger.” She clarifies, only half kidding. “Then we run, straight ahead.” Yelena motions with her free hand. “But together.”

“Together.” You agree, with a soft smile.

“We could get a dog.” The tone of her voice tells you that she is invested in the idea.

“I wouldn’t mind a dog.” You prop your feet up on the coffee table.

Yelena hates anything but a straight answer. Still feeling the need to convince you, she presents the facts. “Dogs are really cool! They have special powers.”

You chuckle, “dogs do not have powers.”

“Yes!” Yelena argues, “they can predict natural disasters and judge character.”

“That’s a special power?” You quip, “I can do that too.”

She grumbles under her breath.

“I want one.” You sigh. Feeling all the tension leave her body.

“I knew you did.” She smiles, contently.

———————————————————————

Dogs might have powers, but the only thing your puppy currently seems to posses is the ability to chew up anything in her path.

“Yelena have you seen my-“ you pause, taking in the scene before you, “shoes.”

“Don’t be angry,” Yelena holds up a hand.

The tiny puppy beside her squeaks, not quite a bark yet. Your demolished sneaker tumbling to the ground.

“What happened?” You run both hands over your face.

She sweeps the dog into her arms. “I told Fanny we could go for a walk once you got out of the shower. She was excited, Y/N! She was trying to bring your shoes to you. But she got distracted, only a little.”

“A little?” You can’t help but smile.

“Look at this face,” Yelena waves Fanny’s paw at you. “You can’t be mad at this face. Tell her girl. Say, you can’t be mad at me Mom, I’m trying my best.” She brings the dog closer.

You raise a hand to pet Fanny lightly. Yelena’s right of course, there is no being mad at that face. “Let me find a pair of shoes that isn’t mangled. Then we’ll go for a walk.”

“I’ll wait with Fanny.”

“Of course you will.” You retreat to your bedroom. Rummaging through the closet in search of some sort of footwear. You’d settle for slippers at this point. Fanny joins you after a moment. Nuzzling at your ankle as she whines.

It’s not everyday that she follows you, she is Yelena’s dog and never lets you forget it. “You’re really excited aren’t you?” More whining. You scoop Fanny up. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

You huff, finally locating a pair of sandals. Slipping them on quickly so you can return to Yelena and gloat about being Fanny’s favorite. “Hey baby, I don’t know what you did, but look.” You smile, gazing up as you present the dog…to an empty room. That’s odd. Maybe she’s waiting outside.

You grab the leash Yelena abandoned on the countertop, securing it to Fanny’s collar. “Come on girl. Let’s go find Mama. Where’s Mama?”

Fanny follows you out the door, onto the walkway.

“Yelena?”

Nothing.

You scan the area, no sign of her. “Ok…” Back into the house, you check the bathroom next.

“Yelena!” You shout, knowing you’ll feel stupid once she replies. But she doesn’t.

A buzzing from the cell phone in your back pocket draws your attention. You set Fanny down gently, accepting the call and moving the device up to your ear. “Alexei?”

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” His voice booms through the speaker.

“Are you ok?” You ask immediately. Leaning down to grab the television remote, turning to channel thirteen, still broadcasting it’s usual gameshow.

“I am alone.” He cries through the speaker. “Melina left me with her pigs.”

“What do you mean she left you?” Something is very wrong.

“She disappeared.” He says somberly, “didn’t even say goodbye. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” The dramatic monologue continues. “I give her back rub every night and then-“

“No,” you cut him off. “Absolutely not.” Under no circumstance is he going to tell you what happens next.

“I have made mistakes, but this! This is cruel.” Alexei, clearly distraught begins cursing in Russian.

“Alexei, I know you’re upset but I need you to listen.”

“What?” He asks. “What is it?”

“Yelena is gone too.” You inform him. Your eyes flicker over the words at the bottom of your tv screen. “People disappeared all over the world.”

You fall back onto the couch, feeling all the air leave your lungs.

More hysteria on the other end of the line. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m gonna find Natasha. Maybe she knows something.” Assuming that Natasha is still here.

“What about me?”

“Come to Ohio. You can dog sit.” You offer, familiar numbness seeps into your limbs.

“I have nine pigs!” Alexei shouts back.

“We have a backyard, don’t worry.” You hang up before he has a chance to argue.

You return to the call screen. Scrolling to find a different contact. Pressing the dial button beside her name.

It rings. And rings. And rings. “Hello.”

“Natasha,” you let out the breath you’ve been holding. “What the hell happened?”

——————————————————————

The Avengers fortress isn’t exactly how you imagined. Not very homey.

You park your car in the lot. Removing your keys from the ignition and stowing them in your back pocket. The clear rectangular keychain with a picture of you and Yelena inside sticks out. Clinking when you round the vehicle to retrieve Fanny from the passenger seat. “Come on, Fanny.”

She wags her tail, waiting expectantly to be carried.

“You’re spoiled, you know.” You sigh, taking the puppy into your arms and closing the door behind you.

The front gate is open but Natasha takes a moment to locate. She cut her hair up to her shoulders, dyed it blonde. “Hello stranger.”

“You got a dog.” She says, in greeting.

“Yeah.” You reply, not in the mood for small talk. “It was Yelena’s idea.”

“I knew she’d sucker you into that.”

“It’s not like she could make me do anything I didn’t want to.” Your finger slides along the edge of the metal table Natasha’s seated behind.

She barks a laugh, “that’s a lie.”

Maybe so. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Still cool. I like the hair too,” you motion toward her blonde locks.

“That’s not really mine either, is it?” She remarks.

“Is anything ever really ours?”

“No.” She frowns. “I guess not.”

“What happened?” You ask again.

“It’s a long story,” Nat crosses both arms over her chest. “You might want to take a seat.”

You clear your throat, pulling out the chair beside her. Fanny curls up in your lap, curious eyes darting about every now and then. You tell yourself it’s because she’s in a new place, but part of you knows, she’s looking for Yelena.

Natasha stares down at her hands. “Have you ever heard of infinity stones?”

You shake your head. “Must be an avenger thing.”

“There were six of them, scattered all over the galaxy. If a person has all six they can use them in anyway they choose. Thanos, used them to eliminate half of all living creatures.”

“Are you the only one left?” You lean in.

“No.” She sniffs, blinking away tears. “There’s others.”

“So where are they?” The place looks abandoned. “Why aren’t you charging into battle?”

“Because we lost. Probably the worst we’ve ever lost.” Natasha clenches her jaw. “By the time we found Thanos again he already destroyed the stones.”

“We’ll try again.” You decide immediately. This isn’t over.

“Will we?” Natasha shakes her head with a smirk.

“If she was gone for good I would know it.” You tell her truthfully. “I would feel it, in my heart and I don’t.”

“You didn’t see it happen. I saw him snap his fingers and-“

You lay your hand over hers, squeezing tight.

“Did you see her go?” She asks, voice just above a whisper. “Yelena. Did you see her?”

“No.” You confess, “I didn’t see.”

Natasha closes her eyes. “That’s why you still have hope.”

“Look maybe you’re right.” You shrug, “even so, now seems like a really stupid time to give up.”

The corner of her mouth twitches. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Fanny.” You inform her.

“Come on.” She rolls her blue eyes. “You’re kidding right? Tell me you didn’t actually name a dog after one of those stupid aliases Rick made me.”

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“I guess a dog’s better than a pig.” Natasha reasons. “Are they still here?”

“Not Melina.” You break the news quickly. Like tearing off a bandage. “But Alexei and all nine of her pigs are on their way to our house in Ohio.”

“Sounds crowded.”

“Always room for one more.”

——————————————————————

You stay like that for a long time. Hopeful. Sure that this was all some nightmare that you could wake up from; fight your way out of.

And then five years passed.

Now you come to see Natasha twice a month, just to check in. Alexei and his pigs have taken up permanent residency in the home you bought with Yelena. As for you, you bounce around. Never staying in one place too long.

“Any news?” You wonder, leaning against the doorframe of Natasha’s meeting room.

“No.” She bites out. Kicking her foot up on the desk. “You should move on.”

“Is that what you call this?” You flick your wrist in her direction. “Crying into a peanut butter sandwich.”

“It’s therapeutic.” She waves the bread at you. Tears welled up in her eyes. “You should try it sometime.”

“Nah.” You take a seat, reaching across to make a sandwich of your own. “It’s not the sandwich’s fault.”

“Am I interrupting the pity party?” Steve says, announcing his presence. Captain America is as self righteous as ever.

“Didn’t you grieve for a century over a girl you kissed one time?” You arch a brow at him, licking wayward peanut butter from the pad of your thumb. “Five years is just a drop in the bucket.”

Steve purses his lips, you have a point. “It wasn’t a century.”

“Close enough.” You mumble around a mouthful of your dinner.

“Want a bite?” Natasha offers half of her sandwich to him.

“No thanks.” He takes a step closer. “I’d offer to make you a real dinner, but already look pretty miserable. Where’s your dog?”

“Visiting her granddad.” Everyone and their mother loves that damn dog.

“Oh yeah, my great adversary.” How could he ever forget. “Is he still wearing that stupid suit?”

“I’m pretty sure the suits are stowed away. But it’s been a while since I’ve been there.” Your mind wanders to the vest. The one Natasha returned to you after Yelena was gone. The one you retired because it doesn’t smell like her anymore. Nothing does.

Most things remain untouched in the Ohio house. Your pictures. Your memories. Your plans. You can’t get rid of them. Can’t stomach being around them either.

Someone, a man, alerts the security cameras, pounding on the front door. “Hello? Is anyone home? Hello! Can you hear me?”

“How old is this video?” Steve asks, cocking his head to the side.

“It’s the front gate.” Natasha breathes, enlarging the image.

“Do we know him?” You squint at the man in question.

“It’s me, Scott Lang, Antman. I met you guys at the airport in Germany a few years ago. I had a mask on, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.” He rambles on.

Natasha presses the access panel, opening the gate.

You straighten yourselves out, before he makes it down the long hallway into the common room.

Scott paces, a lot. Nervously rubbing his hands together.

“Scott.” Steve finally cut in. “Are you ok?”

“Have any of you ever studied quantum physics?”

“Only to make conversation.” Nat says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ok. Alright so, five years ago. Right before Thanos. I was in the quantum realm. The quantum realm is like it’s own little microscopic universe. To get in there you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she’s my uh-“ he trails off. “She was my…she was- she was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened and I got stuck in there.”

“I’m sorry that must have been a long five years.” Natasha apologies.

“That’s the thing, for me it wasn’t.” Scott replies. “It was five hours.”

“What a trip.” You snort, absently toying with your belt loop.

“The rules of time are different there. See everything is unpredictable.” He explains, getting distracted by the food in your hand. “Are you gonna finish that?”

“I guess not.” You hold it out to him.

He accepts, gratefully stuffing the bread into his mouth.

“Scott! What are you talking about?” Steve demands.

“So what I’m saying is time works differently in the quantum realm. The only problem is we don’t have a way to navigate it. But if we did, if we could somehow control the chaos; to enter the quantum realm at a certain point in time and exit at another point in time…like,” Scott locks eyes with you then. “Like before Thanos.”

You nod.

“Are you talking about a time machine?” Steve sighs, running a hand over his tense forehead.

“No. No of course not. Not like a time machine but like a…yeah.” There’s no other word for it. “Like a time machine. I know it’s crazy. But I can’t stop thinking about it! There gotta be some way.”

“Scott,” Natasha calls his attention. “I get emails from a raccoon. So nothing sounds crazy to me anymore.”

“So who do we talk to about this?” His eyes flicker between the three of you.

“Don’t look at me.” You hold both hands up. “That’s way above my pay grade.”

Part 4

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