#if he’s still in good condition when he dies I’m gonna press his wings

[gayforthesun]

one of my eastern black swallowtail caterpillars I gathered in SEPTEMBER apparently escaped, pupated (somewhere secret in our bedroom) and hatched today so we have a surprise baby!

his name is Power Outlet (roommate found him on one) and he’s being housed in a mesh hamper from target because it’s still very winter and really too cold for him to go outside.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Angel’s Girl

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel wants everyone to know you’re his girl. Also, part of a request from @brownsugarcoffy​/  Hi! I don't know if your taking any request, but I saw this picture of this necklace with Angel on it. I was wondering if you would write a imagine of Angel Reyes giving the reader a necklace with his name to claiming her as his old lady and now Angel now wants to only see her wearing his name as they make love. I really adore your writing and know you will do it justice. ❤

Warnings: A lil angst, a lil smut, a whole lotta fluff and cheesiness. 

Here’s more of my work or if you would like to be notified here’s my taglist

At some point, you and Angel knew you had a forever kind of love. The kind of love where you get tattoos expressing that love. When it was your two-year anniversary, he propositioned the idea.

He showed you the sketches he drew of your name. He was so excited, that it physically hurt you to burst his bubble. “Angel, I love you, but there’s no way I’m getting your name tattooed on me.” Angel grabbed you by the back of your neck and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I know, mi dulce. You’re too practical for that, so that’s why I drew you these.”

Moving his page of his drawing of your name Angel revealed a sheet of paper full of angel wings drawings. The one in the center, immediately caught your attention. “That one! That’s the one!”

“Yeah? You like it?” He asked nervously. Angel had only shown his drawings to you and EZ. He was too insecure to share them with to anyone else.

“Duh! And I’ll get ‘em on my fingers and go like this,” you flicked your wrist. “And tell them my super amazingly talented boyfriend drew them.”

“Handsome. Your super amazingly talented handsome boyfriend.”

“Oh, how could I forget!?” You smacked your forehead. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” He kissed your temple and listened to you plan when you and he would get the tattoos while he rubbed the ring finger you flicked at him earlier, thinking how well it would look with an engagement ring.

--

Angel just loved how you showed off your tattoos. Or better yet how you explained the meaning behind them. Club hang arounds? You flaunted that shit and in the next breath you threatened to punch them dead in the face if they ever disrespect you by flirting with Angel. Dudes hitting on you at the bar? You shot them down with the quickness and told them you only belonged to one person and fluttered your fingers like you were already married.

But one day the tattoos weren’t enough. Angel didn’t know what it was, but he knew he needed something else to say you’re his. An engagement ring was out of the question because he had yet to find the perfect one. Luckily, one day he stumbled onto a heart locket that had his name engraved in it and he knew that was it. That would show everyone you were his old lady.

When he brought the necklace to you, you were automatically in love, but you also had to tease him. He was practically going all caveman on you when he requested you always wear it. “Damn Angel, I might as well get your name tattooed on my forehead.”

“Angel!” You hit him as he was seriously mulling over the idea. “I’m just kidding, querdia. We want to take attention away from your big ole forehead not bring more to it.”

--

With your forgetful self, one day you forgot to put your necklace back on after the gym. That didn’t sit well with Angel, especially since you and him weren’t on the best of terms.

“Where the fuck is your necklace, Y/N?”

“In the car. I forgot to put it back on.” You set down your gym bag, went into the kitchen and got you a bottle of water.

“You forgot? Didn’t I tell you to keep it on at all times?” His insecurities were flaring up, driving him to be crazily possessive.

“Angel, I’m not your damn property! When you get that through your thick ass skull give me a call!” And with that you ran out the door with him calling after you was cut off by you slamming the door and running into your car.

That’s how you ended up at the bar, listening to some lame pickup lines.

“Angel, that’s a pretty name.”  The guy pointed to your necklace.

Soon as you decided you were going to the bar you put the necklace back on. “It is.” You replied in a monotone voice, keeping your eyes straight ahead. He didn’t take the hint that you were not interested and continued to talk to you.

When you raised your glass to take a sip, he noticed your tattoos and made some corny joke. Somehow, he kept going even though that was like the fifth joke you didn’t laugh at.

From afar Angel was watching the interaction partly amused and partly jealous. He wanted you to tell the guy get lost, but he could clearly see your annoyance and it was funny to him. He decided he’ll let it go on for a little while longer to let you suffer some more unless it got out of hand.

“So, Angel what’s a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?” The stranger was about to put his hand on your thigh, but he finally picked up on some social cues and stopped himself. “I was enjoying my drink and my name’s not Angel.”

“What? It says it right there.” He pointed to your locket. Oh, this man was dumber than you thought. “Doesn’t mean it’s my name.”

“Then whose name is it?” He got defensive, he didn’t appreciate being made a fool of.

“Her boyfriend’s.” Angel finally decided to intervene when he saw the guy become agitated.

The sleazebag was about to be Billy badass, but then he saw Angel’s kutte and became a stuttering mess. “Sor-so-so-sor-sorry man, I didn’t know she was your girl. My bad.” He didn’t even give Angel time to threaten him. He ran off afraid of what could happen.

“Took you long enough off.” Halfway through your one-sided conversation with your unwanted suitor you saw Angel’s reflection through the bar’s mirror. “You knew I was here? Why didn’t you stop him?”

“I thought you would.”

Angel took your glass and drunk the rest of your drink. “Nah, it was too much fun seeing you suffer.”

“Asshole!” You playfully shoved Angel.

He started to laugh but it eventually died down. “I’m sorry, querida.”

“For being an asshole at home or being one here?”

“At home. That shit here was too funny.” He backed away before you could hit him again. “Seriously though, I’m sorry. I don’t think of you as my property. Yeah this,” Angel moved in closer to grab your necklace, “it means you’re my girl, but the deeper meaner is that you own my heart.”

“So that means I’m not your whore you can fuck however and whenever you want?” You asked with a smirk.

“Check, please!”

—

Angel had you twisted up like some damn pretzel, but you loved it. As soon as you got home, he got on his knees and made you cum three times with his mouth and he would’ve gone for the fourth if you didn’t beg him to fuck you.

“Shit! Who’s pussy is this?” Angel was pounding into you, his eyes were focused on your locket swinging against your neck. “It’s yours Daddy!”

“Damn right it is.” He took your left hand and sucked your ring finger. With his hand he took a hold of your neck. “And next time some little bitch tried talking to you, you shit that shit down. You understand me?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered with tears streaming down your face. Angel was too good at this. You could feel another orgasm mounting up and it felt like it would be the most powerful of all.

Angel noticed you trying to hold back your orgasm because he didn’t give you the permission to cum. “Good girl.” He praised you, leaning forward until your foreheads met. “Daddy’s making you feel good?”

“Yes,” you nodded your head, “You’re so big, I can feel you deep in my tummy.”

He pressed a hand to your stomach. “You’re right, princesa. I’m deep in them guts. But can you do me a favor baby girl?”

“Anything for you.” Angel smiled against your neck. “Cum all over daddy’s cock.” And just like that you did. You screamed Angel’s name at the top of your lungs almost drowning out his own shouts of pleasure.

After that thorough round you wanted to bundle up and go to sleep but Angel made you get up. “Hygiene over comfortability,” he said.

As you went to use the restroom, he changed the sheets and started the bath. Just before you joined him in the tub, he handed you your shower cap. It was blissful silence as you two cleaned up.

Again, Angel was rubbing in your left ring finger. Ever since you got the tattoo there, he’s been obsessed, but he never gave the same attention to your middle finger with the other angel wing.

“Angel?”

“Yes, querida?”

“Why do you keep a hand on my ring finger?”

“Man, I thought you were the smart one of us two.” You splashed some water his way and he quickly apologized knowing you could start a splash war like nothing.

He brought up said finger to his lips and kissed it. “Because I can’t stop imagining how good it’ll look with a ring on it.”

His answer appeased you which led you to your conditions of your proposal. Angel listened eagerly and ingrained each requirement in his head. There was no way he was gonna mess this up.

--

He hadn’t been shopping for it, he just accidentally stumbled on it while at the mall. Weeks later, Angel finally found the perfect engagement ring for you. He was so excited that he planned to propose that night, but your nails weren’t done and one of your requirements were to make sure your nails weren’t ‘raggedy’ as you would put it.

Then another couple of weeks later the opportunity presented itself. You were on your lunch break and you came to the clubhouse to spend it with him and the guys. Your mouth was full of tacos like chipmunk cheeks while you yelled ‘No fucking way!’ at Coco and Angel thought there was no one he rather spend the rest of his days with.

He did a quick check of your nails and they still look good from the day before. Yeah there were people around, but it was people you and him consider family. Your hair was done, and you had a nice outfit on, so all the boxes were checked.

“Querida,” he called out to you to stop you from arguing with Coco.

“Yeah babe?” You turned to him and found him on one knee. “Oh my god!” You jumped up and started wiggling around doing some weird celebratory dance.

The guys turned to see what was happening and they all cracked a smile. “About damn time.” Coco slapped the back of Angel’s shoulders. The rest of the Mayans came out with their guns out when they heard your screams, but quickly put them away when they saw what was happening.

Each time Angel tried to say something you would just squeal and continue dancing, not giving him a chance to get one-word in. “Prospect, get her.” Bishop ordered, seeing how uncomfortable Angel was getting from kneeling on the gravel.

EZ wrapped one arm around your shoulders and the other over your mouth. “I know you’re excited to be my sister-in-law, but you can’t say yes if he can’t ask the question. So, can you be quiet and be still?” You nodded your head fervently and EZ released you.

“Thanks, bro.” Angel cleared his throat before looking at you. He was getting nervous again, but then he saw how you had to contain your excitement and he was overwhelmed with love again. “You know I’m not good with words and shit, but I’ll try. You’re my everything, Y/N. You’re my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. I honestly can’t think of my life without you because it would be too depressing. God, I hope this isn’t too corny, but here it goes: what’s the point of an angel if there’s no heaven? So, with that being said, Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Angel was lucky he started to stand up because you tackled him once he slid the ring on. He was attacked with kisses all over his face and he wondered how could he had been worried about you saying no at all.

“You know you’re gonna be stuck with me forever, right?”

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine with that. What’s the point of heaven if I don’t have my Angel with me?” Forever with Angel sounded like paradise and you couldn’t wait.

Tagging: @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @sadeyesgf​ @woahitslucyylu​ @starrynite7114​ @angelreyesgirl​ @blessedboo​ @ourlittlesecretsoveragain​ @sambucky8​ @mygirlrenee​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @my-rosegold-soul​ @angrythingstarlight​ @richonne4life​ @brattyfics​ @lovebennycolon​ @langiinspirations​ @chibsytelford​ @trulysuccubus​ @spookys-girl​ @brownsugarcoffy​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @fvckthisbxtchup​ @theartisticqueen​

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[judediangelo75]

Little Do You Know...

Hi everyone! So this is gonna be a bit of a songfic featuring Talith (Talbott x Judith). This is gonna be a backstory of when Judith (and her best friend Brooke) ran away from Hogwarts. As I mentioned in one of my story posts, How Talbott Dropped the Question, Judith went back to her homeland, while pregnant with Talbott’s son, Bakari. This is what happened during that time.

There was gonna be implied sexual content, just as a warning.

Without further ado, here’s “Little Do You Know...” ( and the song that https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GP4okspbfMM)

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

(Judith Harris) (Age: 17, close to 18)

(WARNING: IMPLICATION TO SEXUAL THEMES)

I woke up just moments before my sensitive ears picked up the soft whimpers of Bakari from his nursery.

'Must be time for his late night snack...' I mused quietly as I yawned quietly. I made a move to get up, but an arm tightened around my midsection, pulling me into a warm solid chest. The young man nuzzled my neck, breathing me in before settling again. I felt my cheeks warm a bit and the feeling of guilt creep from the bottom of my heart.

'He doesn't deserve this...'

Little do you know,

How I'm breaking while you fall asleep...

Little do you know,

That I'm still haunted by the memory...

Little do you know,

I'm trying to pick myself up, piece by piece...

Little do you know,

I need a little more time...

I carefully slipped out of Talbott's hold and rolled out of bed. Slipping on a black silk robe that stopped mid-thigh, I quietly exited the room to head to our son's nursery.

Our son...

Talbott and I have been together since we 16, a little after the whole Valentine's Day fiasco. I've fell for the Ravenclaw wizard even awhile before that. What started off as an innocent "He's cute" turned into "I fancy him", which then turned into "I love him."

Crazy how feelings work.

One of things I loved about him was how passionate he was in anything he was interested in.

His studies.

Herbology.

Transfiguration.

Poetry.

Love.

I bit my lip as my thoughts linger on the last one. Although he may not look it, Talbott is actually a very passionate lover. I should know...

I mentally shook my head as I enter my baby's room, his whimpers growing a bit louder as he slowly woke up. Rushing over to the crib, I picked up the little boy.

"Shhh, it's okay my love. Mama's here," I quietly cooed. I couldn't help to admire the young babe.

He came out with a full head of hair, which surprised the hell out of me. Though he inherited my dark brown hair color, he still inherited that gradient effect from his father. The tuft of medium to light brown hair rested on his forehead. His unfocused red eyes gazed up at me with tiny tears in the corners of them. His skin color seem to lean towards Talbott's the older he gets. Though, the shape of his eyes, nose, mouth and face resembled mine. The perfect mixed of Talbott and I embodied in this little being...

Bakari's whimpers quietly died down a little when I held him to my chest, his little hand fisting the material of my robe. I quietly chuckled at the babe's impatience. I walked over the rocking chair in the room, settling in for what might be another long feeding session. I shifted my robe and bra aside, gently guiding Bakari to my nipple.

The babe latched on and began to suckle as I leaned back and closed my eyes. Even though I've been doing this since he's been born, the sensation still feels strange. But a good strange...

Although I'll never regret having this little miracle in my arms, I regret the time I had him...

Talbott and I have been intimate a few times prior to me becoming pregnant. Only difference I was actually smart about it and took a potion daily to act as a birth control. I slipped up thanks to a lot of stressors.

Merula.

Ben.

Rakepick.

R.

My brother.

My mother.

Classes and my studies.

Quidditch.

The final curse vault.

Tch, you name it.

I wasn't taking care of myself like I have been since the middle of 4th year. Talbott found out I was in the Hospital Wing after I passed out in Training Grounds with Brooke, who didn't hesitate to scold me once I woke up. Talbott spent a lot of time trying to take care of me whenever he had free time. I could help but to smile while he fussed over me, recalling the time he told me his mother was a Healer. He definitely picked up a few things from her.

When I got the okay from Madam Pomfrey, Talbott did everything he could to make sure I wasn't over stressed or overworked.

We were in his room one day, with him massaging the tension out of my shoulders from practice duels and being hunched over my books. I felt like jelly under his hands, leaning against his warm body with my eyes closed in bliss. With my hair up in a messy bun, my neck was exposed to his mouth. What started off as soft light kisses turned into gentle bites and sucking love bites into my skin. I turned around and kissed him heatedly.

Let's just say I was finally able to fully relax and rest for the first time in weeks...

But that was just the beginning...

Some time after our passionate time together in each other's embrace, I found myself face first the toilet, violently puking my guts out. At first I though it was probably a stomach bug aand visited Madam Pomfrey. I felt more than nervous when I saw the analyzing look she was giving me as I explained my alignment...

After a few questions (which spiked my nerves) and having to take a sample of my blood, Madam Pomfrey gently pulled me to the side so no one can hear us.

"You're pregnant, Miss Harris..."

My entire world just stopped at those two words. I remember shakily pressing a hand to my abdomen in disbelief. I quietly asked her how far was I. She said a few weeks, give or take. For weeks, I was pregnant with Talbott's child. I cried.

Out of fear.

Out of disbelief.

Out of happiness.

The Healer gave me a hug, calming my tears. I always was in the Hospital Wing one way or another, so I grew close to the older witch. And she was rather fond of me as well. Once I calmed down, she unfortunately had to drop a bombshell.

She had to inform my mother and the Headmaster. As a protocol.

I was okay with Dumbledore knowing.

My mother on the other hand...

I sighed, running my fingers through my son's hair.

I still remember the harsh sting and force of her slap when she visited me in Dumbledore's office. The throbbing feeling as I shakily touched my tender cheek as I gazed up at my mother from my sprawled position on the ground. The anger and disgust in her dark brown eyes. Her cutting words that sliced into me and left me to bleed.

"You bloody disgrace! You sorry excuse of witch! You were sent here to learn and keep your head down like an obedient, proper witch. Not spread your legs for the wizard population and endanger the students here! You never could do what you're told, can't you?! I should've aborted your sorry arse when I had the chance. Don't even think about coming back to my house, you whore. You're disowned and I never want to see your wretched face ever again! Do you understand me?!"

Dumbledore always seem to know I've had a very strained relationship with my mother. Especially since sightings of Brooke's and I's brothers sprang up again thanks to us freeing them. She wanted her baby boy to come home. But instead she had me. When she never wanted me...

The old wizard was shocked as he watched the woman send me one last scorching look before marching out of the office. I left curled up in a small ball, crying my eyes out and quietly whimpering for my Papa. Gods knows how long I remained on that floor. I remember the gentle hand on my shoulder and the soft coos of Fawkes as the phoenix nuzzled my hair, trying to soothe me. I didn't leave that room until I ran out of tears for the moment and I was presentable enough to leave. People talk and I don't want people trying to figure out why I looked like I was a mess.

I eventually got up and silently nodded my thanks to the Headmaster. His eyes were sad as he returned it. I petted the back of Fawkes' feathers before leaving. I kept my exterior emotionless until I reached my dorm. I placed a sound proof charm on my room before letting out a heart wrenching cry. I tore my entire room apart until I sat in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. And that's how my best friend found me.

Brooke hasn't seen me all day and heard that my mother came to visit. When she saw my unresponsive form in the mess that was now my room, she basically jumped over the rumble and held me. That's when the water works kicked in again and I cried in again in my best friend's arms. We were silent until I could compose myself. I quietly explained to her the whole situation.

My condition and my mother.

She was livid. She wanted to hunt her down so bad, I saw the rage in her eyes. But I quietly asked her to leave it be and to keep my condition a secret. She begrudgingly agreed, as long as I promised to make her the Godmother of my unborn child. I weakly chuckled and agreed. After cleaning my room, I carried on like nothing happened. No one knew about my condition but me, Brooke, and the staff at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout tend to fuss over me the most. They never want me doing anything to stress myself out, especially if I wanted to help them set up for class or clean up like I normally do. I often chuckled at them, saying I was fine, even though this pregnancy was a whole bitch and a half.

The morning sickness (thank goodness those passed after awhile).

Dizzy spells.

The sudden waves of fatigue.

The crazy intense cravings (I found myself in the Kitchens a lot for food, Pitts never complained. The old House Elf seem to care for me in a way, especially since my House founder provided the House Elves jobs at Hogwarts.)

The slight bump I had (I had to constantly wear my House robes since they were slightly bigger and hid the bump.)

The mood swings (I had to separate myself from a lot of our friends so I don't go from happy and chill to wanting to bash someone's head in or breaking out into tears in 2.5 seconds randomly.)

Talbott has his suspicions about me. We progressed rather far in our relationship. Where he was able to tell I was hiding something. Plus he noticed the slight weight I put on, though he never voiced this, I saw the curious look on his face. But he never questioned me because usually I would tell him, eventually. Though, how the hell do you tell someone that they're a father at the late age of 16 going on 17?

Lucky for me, I didn't have to.

More time passed and eventually, Brooke and I finally cracked. After she got attacked and lost her magic, and the pressure of the Curse Vaults (with Merula and Ben consisting reminding us) and the adults insisting we leave the Curse Vaults to them (especially me since I was literally carrying another human being inside me), we just couldn't take any more. We secretly made a plan to leave. Though not before leaving a goodbye to the young men we love. I spent one more night with him, getting him to go out with my on a impromptu trip to Hogsmeade and the forest. I spent as much time as I could with him because of the uncertainty of us seeing each other again. The next day, I skipped classes to prepare to leave. I silently cried as I wrote my note to Talbott, constantly having to wipe my eyes so I could see clearly. Brooke and I sneaked into their rooms when everyone was in Great Hall for dinner.

It was hard to leave the letter on his bed. Even harder to walk out of his room. The hardest of all was not even telling him about our unborn child...

But I had to. I didn't want to take him away from his life at Hogwarts. He aspired to become an Auror, to protect others from the Death Eaters, Dark Witches, and Dark Wizards. So they don't have to experience the same loss he did as a young child. He had dreams and I wanted him to be happy. I probably really was cursed. The fact that danger seems to follow me everywhere like a lost Crup puppy was ridiculous. And to tell him that he was gonna be a young teenage father? I would ruin his life before it could even begin. I can't be the girl he wants to be with...

He deserved better than a life with me...

Once we did what we needed to do, we grabbed our stuff and left Hogwarts, sparing one more glance at the grand castle before disappearing into the night.

Right away, we went into training. I tried to help Brooke hone and refine her skills as a werewolf. She was a bit worried about me since I was pregnant but I guaranteed her I was fine. I understood my body's limitations, and tried to take advantage of my lighter weight as much as possible. There were days where the babe in my womb would drain me of all my energy so I had to sit out or at least do the bare minimum of training for the day, which was instructing Brooke in archery.

Thanks to my constant drills by the time I was roughly 6 months, Brooke was an okay shot was much better at tracking and tapping into her werewolf side. I felt bad for being in such a state, especially since I feel like liability (I could still notch a bow and arrow and throw knifes, but was nowhere able to fight hand to hand if need be). I told Brooke that I wanted to go back home, where it was safe and I wouldn't be found. She agreed, especially since she wanted to find out more about her family. Taking the first Muggle flight to Barbados, I left Britain with a solemn goodbye.

I lived in my grandmother's old house, which was surprisingly since up and in fairly good condition. Some of the old neighbors from my childhood recognized me and offered to help clean up the place so I can rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. I was thankful for them and felt amazing to not have worry about anything for once.

Until Bakari decided that he wanted out. Jeez, I would never forget those contractions for shit. I was just happy when the local midwives cleaned up my baby boy and handed him to me. The love and happiness I felt as I gazed down at that chubby face and unfocused red eyes was immense and overflowing. I called Brooke not too long afterwards so she can visit her godson.

She nearly bust down my front door, eager to meet little Bakari. She would openly coo in his little face, smiling whenever she made him laugh or reveal a gummy smile. She wouldn't stop going on how she was gonna spoil him and teach him all her mischievous ways as the young babe blinked up at her innocently. I would roll my eyes in exasperation but I chuckle nonetheless.

So how did Talbott end up finding out me, our son and where I was at? Simple, he told me, Hagrid. Brooke went back to Hogwarts to scope out everything and to visit Hagrid. We both loved the gentle half giant but I warned her ass that the man can't keep a secret for shit. But she insisted it will be fine.

What was the biggest what the actual fuck of the century: Our brothers came back to Hogwarts to check in on us from trying to find Rakepick. Once they realize neither of us were at Hogwarts anymore, they went up to our friends and demanded answers. Bill and Talbott didn't take this too well, seeing how them leaving us impacted our personalities. Bill and Talbott were ready to fight them. That's when Dumbledore and Hagrid had to put a stop to it before it can get out of hand.

Jamal was rather distraught and angry, wanting to know where I was. Dumbledore tried to reason with him but he was too emotional to really listen. Hagrid meant to mumble to himself that he hoped Bakari inherited Talbott's sense of calmness over my brother's emotional behavior in stressful situations. Of course, damn near everybody heard him.

My brother fell deathly silent and stared at Hagrid, who embarrassedly mumbled how he shouldn't have said that. Dumbledore simply sighed and asked Jamal and Talbott to join him in his office. Where he explained everything.

To say that when I found Jamal and Talbott on my doorstep shook me to my very core would be an understatement. I wanted to shut the door and pretended that I was just dreaming, but I knew better. I let them in and we had a talk. Jamal wasn't pleased to find out that I got pregnant so early, especially who the father was (Jamal wasn't all that impressed with Talbott, thinking he wasn't good enough for me). I did tell him if he talked shit about me, Talbott, or our son, I would throw his ass out the window. I gave zero fucks if I gave birth three months prior and was still recovering, I would not let my "family" degrade me twice.

After proving I can do physical harm to him (clocked him right in the jaw, sent him flying into a wall) and not feel bad for it, Jamal did admit that he was just happy to know I was safe and healthy. And he seem to adore his nephew, even when he spat up milk on him (which I found HILARIOUS). As Jamal played with Bakari, Talbott pulled me aside into my bedroom.

"Why," Talbott quietly asked. I bit my lip as I look into those hurt eyes.

"It's better this way," I whispered. Talbott glared at me, not liking that answer.

"Better this way? For who," he snapped, his eyes growing misty with tears. I remained silent, looking at a nearby wall.

"Judith, look at me." I stubbornly ignored him, which he didn't like at all. A low growl escaped the back of his throat as he firmly grasped my chin so I look into those beautiful red eyes I fell in love with.

"Judith, answer me!" I clenched my eyes shut and roughly shoved him back.

"For you, okay! This is better for you," I hissed. Hot tears burned my eyes, clouding my vision of Talbott's shocked expression. I walked to the dresser, not wanting him to see me cry.

"I did this for you, Talbott. Okay? You already have so much going for you. You're one of the top students at school. You have dreams... goals... a future... I had to face the possibility of being expelled like my brother ever since I even came to Hogwarts when I wanted to keep my head down. I practically scream 'DANGER'. You were right to be weary of me from the beginning. Being around me would only bring you trouble, worry and pain... To suddenly trap you with a baby because I was stupid enough not to take my potions? That's unfair to you. You deserve better than that... than me..." I choked on a sob as my body shook from the force of my sadness. I never heard Talbott come up from behind me.

I gasped when I was swiftly grabbed and turned around by my waist. I didn't have time to breathe when a pair of lips claimed my own. I felt my heart thundering in my chest as I stared at Talbott who picked me up by the back of my thighs and placed me on the dresser. His lips were demanding and harsh as they moved against my soft, vulnerable ones, bruising them slightly. He ended the short but intense kiss, staring down at me.

"Let me decide what good for me..."

After that, Jamal stayed a few days to relish in our dad's homeland before leaving. He made a promise to visit soon and left Talbott a warning to take good care of me. Yes, Talbott ended up staying here in Barbados. He told me he had a personal talk with Dumbledore that he was leaving Hogwarts to stay here to be with me and our son.

That was over 6 months ago. And to this day, I still feel guilty.

I felt like an obligation, a responsibility that he had to take care of.

And I have a hard time forgiving myself for doing this to him...

Living together has been much harder than I think either of us expected. It was hard for me to find comfort in his arms like I used to without the guilt threatening to eat me alive. I constantly kept him at arms length, which he didn't like at all. Talbott gotten used to touching me in some way during our time at Hogwarts. In public, it would be us holding hands or and causal touch. In private, he liked to hold me a lot. His favorite way of greeting me was a hug from behind. This sudden cut off seemed to trigger him a little and become slightly clinger, especially in his sleep. And this wasn't technically easier for me either, I find it harder to stay away whenever he gets close.

Doesn't help with me being insecure about myself either. I literally gave birth roughly 9 months ago and it bloody shows. My hips ended up growing a few inches and the baby fat seem to cling onto me. Around my thighs, butt and stomach. The fact I breastfeed Bakari as made my chest full with milk and giving me all types of back issues. And let's not forget my new stretch marks around the areas I gained the most weight. I didn't care what I looked like before Talbott showed up, but with him here and knowing how he likes physical touch made me embarrassed and guilty all over again. I'm the mother of his child at 17. Not a happy reminder.

Then there were the arguments. Talbott wanted to talk about my time before Brooke and I left Hogwarts and I remained tight lipped about it. He knows talking about my feelings is one of the major things I was bad at. I find myself snapping at him to leave it be, telling him that he was a hypocrite on wanting his own privacy when he can't seem to respect my own. I knew my anger was misplaced but I found it difficult to apologize. I found myself in a neverending hole of guilt.

I want to apologize.

To talk to him.

To cry in front him.

To hold him.

To be held by him.

To kiss him.

To surrender my scarred heart to him.

To love him.

Deeply.

Dearly.

Fiercely.

To the point, it was borderline terrifying.

But I can't allow myself that form of vulnerability. I was scared. Scared that he'll finally open his eyes and realize everything. That this was all a mistake. That he should've never left Hogwarts.

That he should've never met me.

If he were to suddenly were to up and leave one day, I wouldn't be mad. I would forgive him within a heartbeat.

But forgetting him, however...

Underneath it all,

I'm held captive by the hole inside...

I've been holding back,

For the fear that you might change your mind...

I'm ready to forgive you,

But forgetting is a harder fight...

Little do you know,

I need a little more time...

I sighed after Bakari finally latched off. I checked the time and chuckled. Nearly 40 minutes...

'Hungry little tike...' I mused as I readjusted my bra and robe. Grabbing a small cloth, I throw it over my shoulder and placed Bakari on my shoulder. Patting his back so he burp up any gas lingering in his little tummy. After a few minutes, I heard a few tiny burps and a yawn. I chuckled and cradled him in arms.

"Nice and full, huh," I asked. A little gurgle was my answer. I let out another soft chuckle before softly singing the song my father taught me. Bakari seems to sleep better whenever I sing to him, which reminds me of his father. I watched his droopy eyes slowly flutter close before falling asleep. Slowly, I rose from the rocking chair and placed him back into his crib. I gently brushed some of his hair from his forehead.

"Goodnight my little prince. Mama loves you," I whispered. I quietly left the room and paused. I wasn't fully ready to go back to bed...

Instead my feet lead me to the patio.

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

(Talbott Winger)

I'll wait... I'll wait,

I love you like you've never felt the pain, I'll wait...

I promise you don't have to feel afraid,

I'll wait...

The love you see right here stays,

So lay your head on me...

I turned what felt like the umpteenth time. I open my eyes to look at the empty side next me. The spot was faint from her warmth. A warmth I missed dearly...

I've been in the weird limbo of heaven and hell ever since I found about Judith... and our son.

I can't express what kind of gift that she has brought to my life. I understood what kind of trouble I could be tangled with associating myself with her. But there was no escaping the Cursed Children of Hogwarts.

Or Cupid's arrow for that matter...

I haven't loved anyone else outside my family, who were long gone. But it wasn't until I started getting closer to the girl with mystical gold eyes that I felt a different kind of love.

Something more intimate.

Intense.

Sweet.

Terrifying.

I never thought I would have a crush, given how anti-social I am. Nor did I expect said crush to return those feelings, given the way I am. But life has a funny way of proving you wrong. I never thought I would even be in a relationship. I was so against becoming attached to anyone in fear of losing them. But the more I spend time with her, the harder I found it to stay away.

To the point I gave up trying.

Everything about her was captivating. I found myself loving every part of her, even the parts of her that she struggled to love herself. From her scars down to her cute kitten like sneeze.

I love her and wanted her to know that. Even though I was more so reserved, I still would try to express my feelings towards her. Because I know that she has her moments where she holds back from me. I wanted give her the same love she gave me.

A love where it feels like she was never left alone...

A love where it feels like she's never been in pain...

A love that tells her that I'll wait for her until she's ready...

Little do you know,

I know you're hurt while I'm sound asleep...

Little do you know,

All my mistakes are slowly drowning me,

Little do you know,

I'm trying to make it better, piece by piece...

Little do you know,

I, I love you till the sun dies...

Sighing softly, I got out of bed and slipped on some pajama shorts. Glancing over to my side of the bed, I slipped on the ring Judith gave to me on Valentine's Day before heading over to the nursery.

Quietly I opened the door and frowned to see no signs of the girl. I crept inside and made my way over to the crib. I smiled at the sleeping babe.

When Dumbledore told me that Judith was pregnant with my child, I was completely speechless.

"Professor Dumbledore, what did Hagrid mean by 'I hope her son is more like me rather than Jamal?'," I asked when we were inside the Headmaster's office. Jamal had yet to say a word ever since then, possessing a far way look in his gold eyes.

'The same eyes as Judith...' I mused quietly to myself, fiddling with the ring around my finger. I missed the girl dearly. I was hurt and heartbroken when I read the girl's letter. She's all I have, she should knew that anywhere she would go, I'll follow. No questions asked.

The old wizard sighed, bringing me back from my thoughts.

"I'm sure you already have a decent guess by what Hagrid means by that, Mr. Winger. But I'll explain. Before Miss Brown and Miss Harris disappeared, Miss Harris has been feeling ill for awhile. She went to report this to Madam Pomfrey, who had her suspicions but had to run a test to be sure. The test came out to be positive... Miss Harris was pregnant..." I felt everything stop for a few moments. Judith was pregnant...

With my baby?

"WHAT?! YOU MEAN TO TELL ME THAT SHE NOT ONLY DISAPPEARED BUT SHE'S PREGNANT?!" I almost forgot Jamal was even here. Dumbledore let out another sigh.

"Yes, Mr. Harris. Your sister was indeed pregnant... with Mr. Winger's child." Sharp gold eyes glared at me, fury dancing in them.

"You were the one who deflowered my baby sister?! I outta-"

"Enough."  The short command from Dumbledore force the hotheaded wizard to back down.

"I understand you're deeply worried about her, Mr. Harris but hurting the father of her child is not going to bring her back," the Headmaster advised. The young man grumbled under his breath, sparing me a side eye. I resisted the urge to roll my own. Granted, this isn't the greatest first impression I wanted to give when first meeting Judith's family but from what I can understand so far, she doesn't have the greatest relationships with them. At least with the ones who are still alive.

"How come she couldn't just stay with our mother," Jamal asked. I was rather curious about that too. Judith rarely spoke of her mother. Maybe a memory with her and her brother but not much else...

"Your mother, Jamal, disowned her." We both froze. What...?

"D-d-disown?! Our mother wouldn't-"

"She would and she did," Dumbledore stated coldly. I felt my chest ache. So Judith really did have hardly anyone left...

And part of that is my fault...

"Do you know where she is," I asked. Dumbledore sighed and shook his head.

"I... I think I do..." I swiftly turned to Jamal, eager to find her.

"It's a long shot that she'll be there," he warned. I stared him dead the eye.

"I'll take whatever chance there is." Jamal seemed pleased with this answer, saying we'll leave by sunrise before exiting the room. I turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore, there something I wish to talk to you about before I go..."

I pulled out of the memory thanks to my son's sneeze. I chuckled, playing with tuft of hair the resembled my own.

"Bless you, little one," I said softly. The little boy yawned before settling again. Never would I thought to have a child so soon...

But I love the boy just like I love his mother. Sparing one last glance at the sleeping babe, I left his room. If she's not in Bakari's room, then she must be in the patio out back...

With that destination in mind, I made my way start to the sliding door that led to the backyard of Judith's grandmother's old home. Sure enough, I saw her form leaning against the gate lead out into the backyard. Stepping outside, I came up behind her. I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around the young woman, pulling her against me. I nuzzled her hair, taking in the sweet scent. Judith wriggled in my arms.

"Talbott-"

"Judith, please. Stop running from me," I whispered, tightening my hold on the young woman. I pulled her with me to the small couch that was there. I sat down, pulling her into my lap. Brushing her hair to the side, I nuzzled the soft skin of her neck while squeezing her close.

Whenever I do get the chance to hold or touch her, I couldn't help to notice her post pregnancy body. Her hips did grew a few inches and she gained more weight in the lower half of her body and in her stomach. I find that my hands tend to gravitate to those areas more, enjoying the softness of her skin and curves. The biggest give away would be the stretch marks on her belly...

"Talbott, must you really touch me there," she whined, swatting my hands again from her stomach. Part of me wanted to pout. I was deprived of her love and affection for months since she disappeared. I was robbed of one of my greatest comforts in this cold world. I'm tired of being denied.

"What's wrong with me touching you? You never complained before," I challenged with a glare. She returned it but her blush ruined any chances of her looking intimidating.

"Well I do now. Not when I look like this..." I frowned.

"Like you were pregnant?" Her blush grew worse as I leaned in and started kissing her cheek.

"Like you were pregnant with my child?" I purred in her ear. I'm not above admitting that I had a possessive streak when it came to her. She is a very lovely woman, any man would be lucky to have her and gain her affections. I was jealous of Andre at first, seeing how much time they spend together and how they went to the Celestial Ball when I chose not to go. Andre liked her more as a friend and part of me thought she saw him the same way. Hearing her admit that she never saw him that way and she only had eyes for me eased that jealousy.

She owned my heart, and always will. She was mine just as much I was hers. Knowing that she carried and delivered my child, watching her take care of him stroked the possessive side of me. She was the perfect mother for our son...

"Talbott..." the soft gasp interrupted my train of the thought. I seem to move without thinking as I found myself kissing on her neck. I pulled away to look at her. Her sweet face was flushed, her gold eyes reflecting her hesitation and uncertainty. I sighed, reigning my desire for the young woman in my lap.

"Judith... we really need to talk... I miss you so much, little bird," I whispered against her neck. I felt her breath hitch in her throat.

"You..." she trailed off. I pulled away, just enough to look into her gold eyes.

"Judith, I know you feel guilty about everything that led us to this point. But please listen and understand that I feel the same way. I ended up getting you pregnant with Bakari, which led to your own mother disowning you. When you already barely had anyone to lean on. I should've noticed something sooner, so you wouldn't have to suffer alone. Where you didn't have to feel like you were alone. I love you and want to be with you... always," I said. Tears brimmed in those pretty eyes of hers.

I'll wait, just wait,

I love you like I've never felt the pain, just wait...

I love you like I've never been afraid, just wait,

Our love we see right here stays, so lay your head on me...

"Oh Talbott... I'm so sorry," she whimpered. I hugged her tight, tucking her head underneath my chin. I quietly shushed her as she cried, running one of my hands through her long strands.

"I never wanted you to believe that this was your fault. I didn't want to trouble you further. Even when you got here. Parenthood isn't easy as I come to learn and I didn't want to burden you with a child. I love you too much to do that to you. So when you came and said you were staying, I hated myself. I felt like I made you walk away from a potential future that'll bring some good in the world. Like you had to come and be with me because of Bakari. I was scared... hell I'm still am. That'll you'll one day wake up and realize being with me is a massive mistake," Judith whispered. I felt my chest tighten as she aired out her grievances. I've learned that she doesn't like speaking about her feelings or emotions, why I can never stay mad at her when she snaps at me. I'll be frustrated, yes, but I can never stay mad.

"Darling, look at me..." I felt her flinch, but she came out of her little hiding spot. I noticed the little tear streaks on her cheeks.

"I could never look at our relationship as a mistake. Ever since I lost my parents, I thought I'll never experience another good thing in life again. I thought that for a long time...until I met you. You gave me one of the biggest blessings I've ever had in my life. Someone to love. Someone to trust. Someone to rely on. Someone to look out for and take care of. You gave me you. Everything about you is beautiful to me. And I love you despite everything that you've been through. I would never want to leave you. Anywhere you go, I would follow. We don't have to be alone anymore. Please let me back into your heart, little bird. I miss you... I miss us. You can depend on me," I pleaded with her. I wanted her to hear me, really hear me. Her eyes were still misty with tears but a small smile tugged on her lips.

"Oh Talbott... I miss us too. And... thank you... for being patient with me. I know I didn't make it easy for you... I love you," she whispered, our eyes locking. I smiled.

"I love you too, darling," I said, pecking her lips. I felt her purse her lips against my own before I pulled away. She pouted and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Talbott..." I shivered at the sound of her voice. Low with a husky edge. I squeezed her closer, leaning in again. Our lips met for another kiss and I was pleased when the young woman kissed me back. The kiss was slow but spoke of an underlying desire for each other. I felt one of her hands tangle in my hair, it's twin slipping under my white tank top. I groaned against her soft mouth. My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against me. She let out a soft hum at my unspoken need to have her as close as possible. The kiss ended with a soft smack.

Her gold eyes held a seductive spark, threatening to set me ablaze from the inside out. Without another word, I picked up her bridal style and heading back inside. Reaching the bedroom, I carefully laid her down against the mattress. My hands found the curve of her hips while my lips reacquainted themselves with the sensitive skin of her neck.

"You sure you want to do this," I mumbled against her neck. Judith's body shivered as my cool breath ghosted over her warm skin.

"I'm positive, Talbott... please, make love to me..." was her soft plea. I pulled away from her neck to look into that angelic face.

"I'm right here, darling. I'll give you what you need," I said softly before capturing those sweet lips in another kiss. Judith's arms wrapped around my neck as she leaned back, pulling me on top her soft body. Her thighs cradling my hips, pulling me even closer. I shuddered when I felt her bite my lower lip, tugging on the flesh teasingly.

Fuck.

My impatient hands found the sash of her robe, undoing the knot and slipping the silk material from her body. I broke the kiss, my eyes drank in the sight of her. Every dip, every curve, every scar, every mark.

Beautiful. Every bloody inch of her. Just beautiful.

And all mine.

I took my time making good on those two claims.

I took my time to worship her. Caressing her soft skin, leaving loving kisses in places she felt the most insecure, whispering soft words of adoration and praise into her skin, tracing every mark with loving attention...

But that didn't mean I held back my desire. Sucking love bites into delicate skin of her neck, lower stomach and inner thighs, taking my time in removing what's left of her underwear, teasing her sweet spots and listening to her needy little moans for more, and my favorite: making her fall apart under my teasing mouth and tongue. Judith was a woman who prefers to keep herself and emotions in check. Watching with red hooded eyes as she wriggles and squirms against the sheets, biting her kiss swollen lip to keep her from vocalizing her evident pleasure, and finally locking eyes with me as she rocks her hips against my lips before coming undone.

Her sweet cry of my name is one of most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. I left a lingering kiss on the little gem in between her legs before pulling myself up to kiss her. Despite her slightly spent state, she tugged down my pajama pants and boxers in one go. I chuckled at her eagerness.

That didn't last long when she set out to give me the same treatment. I felt my sanity slip inch by inch with every sensation on my body. Especially when I felt her lips wrap around me. Soft grunts and moans escaped my throat as she worked me just right. I had to push her off me, not wanting to finish so soon.

She understood and allowed me to lay her back, settling in between her thighs. She whimpered as I gently pushed in. Leaving kisses on her face, I continued until I bottomed out. Gods, nothing can compare to being connected with her on this intimate level...

After a few moments, she nodded her okay for me to continue. Rocking my hips against her, I slowly moved in and out. Her mouth fell open, letting out soft gasps and little moans. Her voice was hush, as if she was whispering a prayer.

Softly she urged me to give her more, squeezing my hips with her thighs. I groaned against her shoulder and rocked harder against her, still keeping the tempo slow. She moaned her approval, moving against me. I bit my lip, eyes rolling at the feeling of her squeezing around me.

Seconds later, I found myself on my back. Judith stared down me with heated eyes as she rolled her hips in circle. I cursed beneath my breath, setting my hands on her hips to encourage her to do it again. And she didn't disappoint.

The room was filled with sounds of our moans, quiet confessions of love and the creaking of her bed. I felt a pressure slowly begin to begin more and more as she rode me.

I tried to pull her off, warning her that I was close. But Judith grabbed my hands and pinned them to the sides of my head. She lowered herself until our faces were inches apart. Her gold eyes bright with desire and love. She lowered her mouth close to my ear, whispering to fill her and mark her as mine. Pleading in my ear, begging me to let go with her. She drew a shape I couldn't remember and I lost it. With her name on my lips in a heated gasp, I gripped her hands tightly as I grind up against her. Judith moaned my name in delight, pulling me into a sweet kiss.

Coming down from our high, the young woman crawled off me to snuggle against my chest. I ran a hand up and down her back as she rested her head over my heart.

"I love you, Talbott," she whispered in the dark. I let out a chuckle.

"I love you too, Judith," I said back. I pulled her back up so I look at her face, admiring her lovely features.

"Talbott, as much as I love having you here with me, I still want you to finish your education and live out your dream," she told me with a serious expression. I frowned.

"I'm not leaving you, little bird," I grounded out, squeezing her close.

"But-" I pressed a kiss on her lips, silencing her.

"I refuse to be without you again, Judith. I'd be damned..." Judith gazed up at me with a flushed face before sighing.

"I'm not gonna like this... but I'm willing to compromise," she offered. I rose a brow at her, waiting for her to continue.

"If you agree to go back to Hogwarts, I'll come back to Britain with you. But I'm not going back to the castle," she proposed. I thought about this for a few moments. It's been a few months but I'm sure I'll be able to catch up with everyone else and still graduate on time. And Judith will be with me...

"If we go back, I'll be keeping you up to date with your studies. Just because you're not in Hogwarts, doesn't mean you can't get a form of an education," I inserted. The girl groaned.

"Ughh, fine," she relented. I chuckled and kissed her forehead.

"We can work out more details in the morning, darling," I said as she let out a little yawn.

"Mmm... alright. Goodnight, Talbott. Thank you and I love you," she mumbled.

"I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth, little bird. Goodnight, and I love you too..."

[doctordiscord123]

Madness

The Host goes without being able to speak for far too long. The results are...not pretty.

Based off the chaos that is currently happening, centered around the Actor kidnapping most of the other egos save Dr. Iplier and Wilford and keeping Eric as a pet.

Tags: @demon-dark-666 @devon-rever-860 @smash-ash26 @bender-of-life @verse2wo @vociferous-chaos

Warnings: Attempted Suicide, Blood, Mental Conditioning, Vomiting, Murder Characters: The Host, Dr. Iplier, Wilford Warfstache, Eric Derekson, The Actor Word Count: 1944 words

Too long.

Far too long, too long kept muzzled, too long kept unable to speak. 

The Actor had realized quickly that the Host was dangerous. Perhaps moreso than Dark and Wilford. He’d had a Hell of a time trying to figure out where the Host’s power was coming from. But once he realized it was in the Host’s words, the Actor had grinned in a way the Host will never forget, and he was promptly muzzled. A thick leather muzzle, that folded under his chin with strong straps that buckled around the back of his head, over his ears, and the back of his neck. Forcing his jaw shut, pressing his lips tight together. His hands were kept in big mitten-type things that prevented him from undoing the straps himself. Though, his wrists bound tightly behind him helped with that as well.

And it was fine.

For a few hours.

And then the build-up began to press at the Host’s skull.

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t summon his aura, not in the cage layered in magic that kept it stifled. He had no way of getting his narrations out, his visions out of his head. He screamed and writhed as the pressure grew worse, blood soaking into his bandages, legs kicking out wildly. But it did nothing to ease the agony in his skull. Too many words swimming in his head with no way to escape, too many realities swirling together. Realities shouldn’t swirl, it was the Host’s job to keep them straight, keep them organized, but there was too many, too many to handle with no escape --

The Host had tried to bash his own skull in after the first day. Smashing his head into the bars of the cage, muffled, desperate cries escaping him. He could hear the screams of the others, kept prisoner in other cages around him like animals, but he didn’t care. It hurt. He couldn’t take it. Blood washed across the bottom of his cage, but still he kept bashing and bashing and bashing --

It was only when Eric -- sweet, kind Eric, unfortunately having caught the Actor’s eye as such a darling little pet to break -- came to feed the people he once knew as family was the Host stopped. 

The Actor didn’t want his new toys hurt in any way he didn’t inflict himself. A thick, padded helmet had been fitted over the Host’s skull after his wounds had been bandaged. It covered his ears, blocking all sound. The Host couldn’t see, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t hear -- all he had was the swirling, churning, storm inside his head.

The Host’s mind shattered under the pressure after only a week.

He was kept like that -- padded, muzzled, bound -- for months.

The Host was lethargic. He didn’t to anything. The Actor had been forced to give him a constant IV for nutrient and a blood transfusion to keep him from bleeding to death from his eyes. The bottom of his cage was covered in an inch pool of blood, soaking into the Host’s skin and dirty clothes as he lay limp. Though...something else crept into the blood, leaking from his eyes, as the months went on. 

Black. 

Swirling with his blood.

Forming...odd patterns that looked almost like words.

Almost like...

A vision crashed over the Host -- the twentieth within the hour, too many too many -- and he convulsed like he was having a seizure, blood splashing through the bars of his cage, spreading out in the ever-growing pool that Eric cleaned every day. 

He Saw the room. The cages. The egos all sitting huddled in the corners, like beat, broken dogs. Some were angry. Some were beginning to break, lethargic, just like him. He could See his blood spreading across the cold tile.

Two egos were missing. Had since the beginning. They’d somehow escaped the Actor’s grasp. Biding their time to take back the manor, break the others out. The Host watched Dr. Iplier creep into the room, and he lifted his head slightly, the first time he’d moved since trying to kill himself so many months ago.

He watched the horror spread across Dr. Iplier’s face, watched Wilford creep around the room, picking the locks on the nearest cage -- the Jims.

“Host!”

Dr. Iplier rushed to his cage, footsteps splashing in the blood. He reached through the bars of the cage, pulling off the padded helmet, running his fingers through the Host’s hair. “Hey, hey, it’s me. I’m -- so sorry, we left you for so long. But we’re gonna get you out, gonna get all of you --”

“Hey!”

Dr. Iplier and Wilford’s heads whipped to the doorway. Eric stood there, eyes wide as he scanned the attempted prison break. Wilford grinned. “Hey kid! It’s good to see you, God, we’re so glad you’re okay!”

He took a step towards Eric, and Eric took that step backwards, breath heavily. “Wh-wh-who are you?! What are you doing?! Why are you in this house?!”

Wilford’s brow furrowed. Dr. Iplier shrunk back towards the Host. “...Eric? Are you --”

“MASTER!” Eric sprinted back out of room, screaming for the Actor. “MASTER, there’s someone in the pet room!”

Dr. Iplier’s eyes shot wide. “Oh no no no no -- we gotta go, we gotta go now, come on, Host, can you get up for me? Can you --”

He never finished his sentence. His head jerked sharply to the side, and he collapsed, dead, to the floor. The Actor lorded above him, adjusted his robe, eyes black as tar.

The Host screamed.

The Host screamed.

He was moving again for the first time in months, kicking at the bars of his cage. He accidentally ripped out his IV and the transfusion, blood spraying everywhere as he screamed. Dr. Iplier was going to die, no, was he dead? The Host couldn’t tell, realities so blurred together, he couldn’t tell what had happened and what hasn’t. Did he just live through Dr. Iplier’s death? Was he lying limp on the ground right now? The Host couldn’t See, he was grieving, crying bandages having dissolved ages ago in the ever present pool of blood.

“Hey! Host, shhh, calm down, you’re okay, you’re okay...”

Someone was pulling away the padded helmet, carding their fingers through his hair, and the Host sobbed, leaning desperately into the touch. His mind was playing tricks on him, he knew it was, Dr. Iplier had just died, this wasn’t him, the was the Actor, this was a vision, another reality, not his, Dr. Iplier, Dr. Iplier...

“Wilford! Get this door open!”

“On it, doc!”

The Host whimpered, struggling a bit as he was pulled out of the cage, and into Dr. Iplier’s lap. He didn’t care if this was the Actor now or not, he’d missed his beloved doctor, he didn’t want him to be dead, and he buried his face in Dr. Iplier’s stomach, sobbing into his shirt. Black as well as red stained every inch of him, Dr. Iplier muttering soothing words as he unbound the Host’s wrists, pulling off the mittens and letting the Host’s hands free. “Shhh, you’re okay now, you’re okay...”

The Host shook his head, pointing in the vague direction of the door.

“Hey!”

And just like that, Wilford was poofing to the door, slamming a hand over Eric’s mouth and dragging him inside. Eric made a terrified sound, struggling against Wilford, but Wilford just pet his hair, soothing him as pink mist swarmed off his hands. Eric unavoidably breathed it in, and before long, he was asleep, slumped against Ed’s cage.

Dr. Iplier shuddered, skin crawling with the uncomfortable realization they’d almost been caught. He and Wilford had been watching for months. They knew how broken Eric was by now. They knew how the Actor had been treating him and Dark -- the only two who hadn’t been shoved in cages in this room. Dr. Iplier picked at the straps to the Host’s muzzle, having a difficult time as congealed blood acted effectively like glue. But, he got it eventually, gently pulling it away. “There we g --”

The Host immediately threw up.

Black spewed from his mouth in a never-ending flow, ink pouring out like a fountain with each violent retch, each painful convulsion of his chest. It ran in rivulets across the floor, but...the rivulets took odd patterns, like...words...sentences...

The Host’s build-up of narrations were pouring out of him, not giving him a chance to breathe, it was violent, and loud, and the Host was gagging as ink hit the back of his throat over and over and over --

It took ten minutes for the flow to begin to slow. Another ten for it to taper off completely. Wilford had freed the other egos by then, and was off to sneak through the manor to grab Dark. Ink had overtaken the blood that covered the floor.

The Host laughed. He laughed, pressing his shaking hands to his temples, marvelling the absence of pressure in his skull. He could think, he could talk --

And he talked.

“Dr. Iplier!” His words were slurred, raspy, hoarse from disuse and ink. “Dr. Iplier Dr. Ipler Dr. Iplier is alive, he’s alive, you’re alive!” He laughed again, first person mixing into his speech, and Dr. Iplier flinched back. “You’re alive! The Host thought he was dead -- is Dr. Iplier dead? Perhaps this is the one with the ghosts -- no, wings!” He twists to press at his back, and frowned. “No wings, a shame, the Host liked having wings. The Host is happier Dr. Iplier isn’t dead though, that was sad, the Host grieved for -- how long was it? But you’re alive! Maybe the Host didn’t grieve at all and that was all in my head.”

Silence. Dr. Iplier laid a hand on his shoulder. “Host, are you...alright?”

The Host’s grin grew wider. “The Host can’t tell anymore! Which reality’s which, if he’s okay or not. Did you know there’s a reality where the Host is a god? Who would want to worship me, I’m a piece of shit!” He chuckled, full of mirth despite what he’d said. “The Host tried to kill himself. He can’t remember how many times. Did he even try in this reality? He can’t remember how many times he succeeded. Oh, those were sad days. The Host can’t remember if he cried. But Dr. Iplier’s alive! He deserves to be alive.”

Another hand. King maybe? It wasn’t Dr. Iplier. His voice was raspy, too. “Host --”

“Don’t touch the Host!” He screeched at the top of his lungs, scrambling to his feet, stumbling back through the ink. He gripped his skull harder. “No no no, this isn’t right, King’s dead! Bim -- no, the Author --” He gasped. “The Author! Am I the Author? No, I’m the Host! Or am I? I can’t quite tell. Things bleed after so long. Am I bleeding? Dr. Iplier, am I bleeding?!”

He rushed back forward, hauling Dr. Iplier to his feet, not noticing him stumbling back. “I-I-I um, I-I don’t know --”

“Oh that’s alright!” The Host spun away, pacing, words flowing faster and faster. “The Host’s paced through the inky pool, blood and magic and so many different worlds blending toge -- ah there you are! Narrations! The Host needed you before! You went missing! It’s hard stumbling through a library with a concussion -- no, wait, that didn’t happen, did it?”

There was a splash as someone took a step. “Host, please --”

“Stop! Saying! My name!” The Host stumbled back, breathing heavily. Hands sliding up to pull at his hair. “the Host is fine! He’s -- he’s...he’s...fine...”

The Host collapsed, falling forward into the ink, and passed out.

[pushspacetocontinue]

Furious Blades

A story for Russell’s Pokemon Verse, for how he ended up losing his right arm and subsequently getting a replacement. Some violence in this one, but yeah. Also, it’s long, you’ve been warned.

It was just meant to be a quick walk from one route to the next. Russell had made sure to check the map and he was confident that he would be able to get to the next town without much trouble. 

Russell had been moving swiftly, but carefully, his hands tucked into his pockets and his ears peeled for any signs of danger.

“Sir!” a young man’s voice caught his attention, and Russell turned his gaze onto the new person. The red uniform was recognisable. 

“You, you want a battle?” Russell asked. It was what they usually wanted. They often found themselves bored on the job. 

“No, sir. Not now. But I can see why you would assume that,” the ranger replied, “We really need you to turn back from this area. We have a swarm of Scyther moving through the route and due to it being their mating season, they are hostile to passers-by. While we can recommend watching from a distance, you’ll need to take the alternative path so you’ll be on the higher levels, this way.”

The man gestured, and Russell nodded. 

“Th-thanks,” Russell said, as he started to follow, “That’s…” 

But then a scream erupted in the air; unmistakably a human’s. It was shrill and high. The shout was followed by the frantic shouts of a name.

“Molly!” 

“Molly! You have to get out of there!”

Russell’s eyes widened in alarm, and he pushed past the ranger without any hesitance. Through the bushes, he could already see a young girl, no older than ten, was surrounded by the Pokemon. Her curly blonde hair had leaves and twigs in it. The colour had drained from her dark face, leaving it a greyer shade. 

She must have slid down the steep dunes by accident and ended up right in their midst. Judging by their glares, they were far from happy. Molly didn’t appear to know where to look, but she knew the danger she was in.

“Oh no…” the ranger only said.

Russell didn’t think anything else. His feet seemed to carry him forward without any thought. In a swift sprint, he had reached Molly just as the closet Scyther swung its blades.

He ducked, and took Molly in his left arm as he did, never stopping in his movements at all. 

“Hold, hold on tight!” he instructed. Molly instantly did as she was told, and put her arounds his neck to better support herself. 

If he could get back to the ranger, he could hand over Molly and then hopefully get Thor out to defend himself. A good power gem from Ampharos would surely send the swarm packing. 

But the Scyther were fast, even with the element of surprise he had given them, and they were now out for his blood. 

Russell met eyes with the ranger, and he seemed to realise his plan. But then a Scyther suddenly landed in front of him and swung its blade. Russell found himself lifting his right arm instinctively to protect his face. A thud hit his ears, but he barely registered it. 

He couldn’t go to the ranger. He instead took off running in the opposite direction. 

Molly let out another high pitched scream.

“It’s, it’s gonna, it’s gonna be okay,” Russell said, between pants. 

“Your arm!” Molly wailed, pointing. 

Russell glanced back. His eyes widened and his blood turned to ice when he realised that his own arm was indeed on the ground. He found himself looking at where it should have been. Just below the elbow, it had been severed entirely, and the stump was heavily bleeding.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! 

He couldn’t give up. One more look was spared as one of the Scyther impaled the disembodied limb on one of its own. It waved the arm, as though to taunt them, before chopping it into slices. Russell knew what it was saying; they were next. 

Not if he could help it. 

But no matter where they turned, it seemed that more members of the swarm would block them from going anywhere. Eventually, they were back where Molly started; at the bottom of a steep dune that they had no hope of climbing up. 

“D-damn it. They, they were, they were herding us like, like Mareep…” Russell said, as he panted.

“They’re smart enough to do that?” Molly moaned.

“Looking like it,” Russell said, as he carefully put Molly down. 

“Don’t let them hurt me,” the little girl said.

“I, I won’t,” Russell said, as the swarm drew closer around them, “G-get behind me.”

“You’re, you’re looking bad,” Molly said.

She wasn’t wrong. Russell’s face had grown considerably paler, and his movements were weaker and heavier as he tried to move. His hand was shaking, and sweat had formed on his upper lip. 

“I’m, I’m fine,” Russell said. 

He had to get Thor out of her pokeball. She was their best chance to escape. Russell started to reach onto his belt with the hand he had left. But one of the bug Pokemon darted forward and swung its blades across his chest, leaving an x-shaped tear in his clothing and skin. The pain was unbearable and Russell staggered backwards a few steps from the force of the blow. 

The belt was cut, and his pokeballs scattered around his feet. He quickly dropped to his knees to find Thor. There was still a chance. But then his heart sank when he realised the button of one must have been pressed by accident.

Hestia, the smaller Larvesta, was far from his intended Pokemon to use.

“H-Hestia,” Russell’s words were a struggle to push out of his mouth, “It’s, it’s okay… get, get back in your ball… it’s, it’s gonna be okay...” 

The rest of the Scyther were still approaching, and the one that had attacked him was rubbing its blades together. The wings on the others vibrated, making a sinister buzz ring through the air. 

Hestia seemed to be staring the creatures down. On hearing Russell talk, she briefly turned her eyes to him, taking in his condition. Russell made a move to stand up, holding up the empty ball. 

“H-Hestia, re-” the command to return died on his lips when the smaller bug was suddenly cloaked in a harsh white light. Her shape changed and she grew larger. A harsh heat enveloped the air, and the light became fire before she emerged anew. 

Hestia had evolved. The larger moth-like creature flapped its wings. Its small limbs twitched, and it blinked once. There was a brief lull, then it fired the attack it had been preparing. Flames shot out from its wings, covering all in front of it in a wave of red fire. Grass was charred, the heat was almost unbearable, and the Scyther got the brunt of the blast. 

When it faded, all the Scyther around them collapsed. The only few that there were left standing had the sense to flee while they still could. Hestia watched them go, only then turning around when she finally heard her beloved trainer fall to the ground. The grass below him rapidly started turning red.  

“M-Mister…” Molly’s eyes were filling with tears as she stared down at Russell’s unconscious body, “Please wake up… please…”

Russell groaned as his eyes slowly opened. He blinked when the ceiling lights met his eyes. What the hell happened? Russell slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings. He was in a bed, hooked to a machine to monitor his vitals. His bag had been placed on a table nearby. 

Russell gasped when he saw what was left of his right arm. The memories came flooding back in an instant. The little girl in the Scyther pit. He had run to save her. Then Hestia had evolved to save their lives!

“Hestia... I owe her…”

But then the door opened and a doctor walked in. Her eyes widened when she saw that Russell was awake. 

“Mister Tolbert. Good to see you’ve come around,” she then said, before carefully checking his limb, “It looks the Alomomola mucus has done well to heal the residual limb as well…”

“Y-yeah…” Russell said, ignoring the itching he felt beneath his elbow. Phantom limb was bound to happen, “How, how long was I out? Is, is the girl okay? The, the girl I, I went to, to help…”

“Yes, Molly is fine,” the doctor replied, “She was very shaken up, but ultimately unharmed. And you were out for three days. It was touch and go. You’re very lucky to be alive.”

“Y-yeah,” Russell said.

Mom’s gonna be pissed… I was meant to be challenging the league in a week. I’ll have to ask the staff not to let her in.

But then Russell was brought out of his thoughts by a knock. The person didn’t wait for an answer and walked in. 

The man was dressed in a very smart suit. His eyes were a warm brown, as was his skin. His hair had been slicked back with gel. He was carrying a long case as well.

“Oh wonderful, you’re awake,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Mister Tolbert, about my daughter, and how you very bravely rescued her. I’m Marlon De Vulkner.”

“Um, n-nice to meet you, Mr De Vulkner” Russell said, “And well, I um, I just did it because I had, I had the chance, even if, if it didn’t go to plan…”

“Your Volcarona was very brave in the end, and so were you,” De Vulkner said, “But I wanted to find a way to repair you. You see, you might have guessed that we have a lot of money, and we have been working with Macro Cosmos in Galar, to produce new technology for trainers in need. We felt that perhaps along with helping with physical rehabilitation, that this will also help you along your way.”

He opened the box then, and Russell’s eyes widened.

“I can’t, I can’t accept this, it’s…”

It was perfect. The metal prosthetic had been crafted with utmost care. The arm would also fit perfectly for him. It had been crafted with the best tech imaginable and was practically flawless in design. The official logo of Macro Cosmos on the inside of the lid told everyone who had made it. 

Surely someone else would be more deserving of such a fine arm.

“It would be more than an honour if you accepted, Mister Tolbert,” De Vulkner added then, “It’s the very least we can do for you.”

Russell was silent for a while, his heart pounding in his chest. But then he looked up and nodded.

“All right. I would, I would love to, to have it. Th-thank you, Mister Vulkner.”

“You are more than welcome, Mister Tolbert.” 

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

So in Uncanny X-Men 362 Pyro gets taken into custody by SHIELD, after getting chased across Nebraska by a sentient Cerebro (or something, that story didn’t make much sense).  He’s in bad shape - unconscious and “barely breathing.”  Next time we see Pyro he’s free again (in Cable 87, where he dies), but there’s no explanation as to how he escaped SHIELD.  Given his condition, I’m guessing he had help. So I wrote an extremely self-indulgent ficlet about Avalanche breaking Pyro out of SHIELD custody and having a lot of feelings about it. 

Toad had been the one who found him.  The man could hack, and he was smarter than Magneto had ever given him credit for.  At least, he was when he wasn’t completely lost in his own mind.  Toad hadn’t been especially well when the Brotherhood was keeping Xavier captive, and he still wasn’t making much sense, but Avalanche had patiently and firmly pushed him until he got results.  It was the least the Brotherhood could do, as far as Dominic was concerned.  Johnny had gotten dragged into all that weird bullshit with Xavier and some kind of mutant-scanning robot (at least that’s how Blob had described it all later), and he wasn’t even really with the Brotherhood these days, but that hadn’t stopped him from getting run down like a rabbit in fucking Nebraska, of all places.  And the X-Men, true to form, hadn’t actually done a damn thing to help him, just tried to pick a fight.  

               At least he wasn’t dead.  From the SHIELD records, he’d come pretty close, because that’s what happened when someone as desperately sick as Johnny got terrorized and chased around until he burned out and collapsed from exhaustion.  He hadn’t been robbing banks or going on a Brotherhood raid, he was just trying to get away from a damn robot, and now he was barely alive and in SHIELD custody.  Thanks for nothing, X-Men.  

But whatever. Avalanche could take matters into his own hands.  Especially since they were holding Pyro at one of their ground facilities, not up on the Helicarrier.  No one else in the Brotherhood was willing to stick their necks out, on the basis that Pyro was “a goner, anyway,” but Toad had gotten him schematics of the building, and even the exact room.

               It was a fairly simple plan.  Avalanche had never been much of a planner; he preferred others to take the lead.  He didn’t feel especially bad about it, he just knew his place as a hired thug.  Being in charge was too much of a hassle – he’d only had to make the hard calls once, and he never wanted to be in that position again.  But he was on his own here, so he had to be the thinker and the muscle all rolled into one. He created a diversion by shaking up the east wing of the building, collapsing several rooms.  There were probably casualties, and he absolutely did not give a damn.  It was all a distraction, while he came through a tunnel in the earth right up into the room where they were keeping Pyro.

               And he was alone with two doctors, not an armed guard in sight. Even better.  Avalanche turned to the door and make a quick motion that brought a sheet of solid rock up between himself, and the guards that were probably on the other side of the door.

               “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  Avalanche turned to find a heavyset Asian woman glaring at him, hands on hips, as if he was a naughty child to be scolded instead of a man who could crush her in the earth.  The white lab-coat identified her as a doctor, while a man in similar attire was pressed back against the wall, eying Avalanche with fear.  Good.  Sensible, and unlikely to make trouble.

               “I’m getting’ my friend out of here,” said Avalanche shortly. “And if you’re smart, you’ll step back out of the way.”  

               Strapped down in what looked like a standard hospital bed, Johnny had somehow gotten even thinner than the last time he’d seen him, his blond hair lank across a scarred, pale face.  Pyro had opened his eyes at the sound of Dominic’s entrance, but they were dull and uncomprehending, and slowly closed again despite the alarms blaring through the building.  Avalanche reached out and patted him on the cheek, wincing at the heat.

               “Johnny, can you hear me, man?”  The eyes opened again, staring up at Dominic without a hint of recognition.  The Virus had turned Pyro into a walking skeleton, lesions covering a face that had once been reasonably handsome (probably better looking than most of the Brotherhood, in Dominic’s judgement), but that lack of comprehension was somehow worse to see.  He’d spent the last several months watching his clever, quick-witted friend slowly become confused and forgetful, occasionally slipping completely into a fog of delirium. Like he was being worn away, bit by bit.          

               “I wouldn’t expect him to respond.  He hasn’t been fully conscious the past couple of days, but his vitals are better than when they brought him in,” said the woman.  Avalanche glanced up at her, also taking in the machines SHIELD had hooked Pyro up to.  

               “That can’t be right, can it?”  He pointed at a temperature readout that seemed to indicate that Johnny was currently roasting at about 126°F.  

               “It is,” said the male doctor hesitantly.  “It was even higher earlier.  His file shows he has increased resistance to heat, otherwise….” He threw up his hands.  “Well, a normal person would already be dead.”

               “Johnny ain’t exactly a normal person.  Neither am I.”  Avalanche felt a weird sort of pride at how fiercely Pryo had clung to life for so many months, staying on his feet long after most people would have just given up. He reached down and started unbuckling restraints.  Johnny was at least in a proper bed with an IV in one arm, but there were about a dozen straps holding him down, with both wrists shackled on either side.  And a power-suppressing collar around his neck, of course, can’t be too careful with the mutant who is at death’s door, right?  

              The woman reached for something, and Avalanche grabbed her wrist hard enough to bruise.  She winced and froze.

               “Let’s not, okay?  I’m taking him out of here.  I don’t like to hit women, but I damn well will if you get in my way.”

               “Lynn, it’s not worth it,” said the man, putting a hand on the woman’s other arm and trying to pull her back.

               “Listen to him,” said Avalanche.  “You ain’t gonna miss one criminal, and he’s in no condition to do any damage anyway.  I’m sure your bosses will understand.”  Lynn glared at Dominic, but stepped back as he released her wrist.

               “You say you’re his friend?  Why are you doing this?  We’re not just keeping him in custody, we’re giving him medical treatment that he desperately needs.  Do you not understand how sick he is?”

               “Lady, I know!” Dominic snarled.  “I’ve been watching him waste away for months!”  

               “So why won’t you let us help him?”  Avalanche froze for a moment, his eyes flicking down involuntarily to the figure in the bed.  It wasn’t, he had to admit, the horrific image he’d imagined of Pyro strapped to a metal table (possibly vivisected), or dying slowly in a cold, bare holding cell. He wouldn’t put anything past government stooges; they’d proven themselves capable of horrors time and time again.  He knew, having been one of them.  But restraints aside, maybe this wasn’t the worst thing, for Johnny to actually be tucked into bed getting some god damn rest and nutrients instead of running himself ragged, eating infrequently and never enough.  

               “What do you mean when you say ‘help’?  Can you actually help him?  Do you have some kind of miracle cure in your back pocket or what?” The two doctors looked at each other, and Avalanche leaned forward, grabbing the man by the collar.  He was obviously the one who’d scare more easily.

               “Don’t bullshit me, understand?”  He gave the male doctor a shake.  “If you can save him, I’ll let you.  But if I leave him here, and he dies, I’m coming back for both of your heads.”

               “We-we can’t guarantee….his condition is….we’re doing everything we can-“ the man stammered.

               “We don’t have a cure,” Lynn cut in bluntly.  “And we probably won’t have a cure in time for your friend.  But we’re doing what we can.  We’re making him comfortable.  And from what we learn studying the disease in him, maybe we can help others – “

               “No!”  Avalanche snapped.  “He’s not gonna be your lab rat.  He didn’t wanna die in a hospital, and he’s sure as hell not gonna die with fucking SHIELD poking at him.”  He let go of the male doctor, and continued to undo the straps with quick, angry movements. After a moment, Lynn came forward again, reaching for Pyro’s arm.  Dominic put a hand up waving her back.

               “Don’t –“

               “I’m not going to stop you.  I know I can’t.  But if you’re determined to do this, let me get the needle out of his arm properly before you just start yanking on tubes.”  The look Lynn gave him reminded Dominic of Helen in her fiercer moments.  He always did like a woman that wasn’t afraid to stand up to him.

               “Fine.  Don’t try anything funny.”  

               “Believe me, there’s nothing funny about any of this.”

               “You’re making a mistake, “ said the male doctor, now sounding more sad than frightened.  “If you take him out of here, he’s just going to die faster.  And he’ll be in pain.  You’re not helping him.”        

               “He’ll die wherever he is.  Least he’ll be with friends and not strangers.”  Avalanche slid his hands under Pyro’s knees and back, and hoisted him easily into his arms, letting the sick man’s head rest against his shoulder. Christ, he weighted next to nothing, and he was so impossibly hot.  Pyro groaned softly, and Avalanche looked down to see that his eyes were open again.  

               “You with me, Johnny?”  Pyro’s response was unintelligible, but his eyes were aware, and he was focused on Dominic’s face, actually looking at him.  Avalanche hesitated again, despite hearing the alarms still wailing through the wall of stone, knowing that he needed to be gone immediately.  

               “I’m putting this up to you, okay, man?  You’re with SHIELD right now, and they’re kinda taking care of you.  They can’t save you, but maybe you won’t suffer so much here.  I can put you back, or get you the hell out of here.  Where do you want to go?”  

Where do you want to die? He didn’t say.  It didn’t need saying.  

“Home.”  The voice was a hoarse whisper, but clear.  “Take me home.”  

Avalanche nodded.  Without another word, he turned and dropped back through the hole in the floor.  The earth rose up to meet them, and he bent his knees as he landed, holding Johnny tight against his chest to try to reduce the impact.  The ground flowed along under Avalanche’s feet, pulling them down the tunnel in the darkness.  They’d surface a good five miles away from the facility, where he’d left a car parked, and things should be smooth sailing from that point.

               “What do you mean by home, Johnny?”  Pyro had slung one arm up around his neck, an indication that he was still awake and aware, even though Dominic couldn’t see his face in the dark.  “The Brotherhood safehouse?  Your apartment back in New York?  Do you wanna go back to Australia?  It might take some doing, but I can make it happen.  Where is home to you?”  

               The voice was still hoarse, but slightly stronger than before.  “Where you are.”

               Dominic wondered for a moment if Pyro was simply delirious.  With the heat baking off of him, he couldn’t imagine how he could possibly be lucid.  Then he decided it didn’t matter.  He just squeezed Johnny’s shoulders a little tighter.

               “Okay.”

[ticklikeabomb]

Birth in Reverse : Pt 2

Pairing : Avengers x Fem Plus Size Reader (ships coming later)

Warnings : Language ; Hydra attack (again) ; Major Death Characters Prevented

Word Count : 2.8k

A/N : A lot of dialogue in this one Sorry

"Ouch", said Mr Anderson through greeted teeth. "Happy? Happy?", Tony's voice echoed among the debris. "Yeah, I'm here", responded Hogan slowly lifting himself off the ground. Stark asked the AI to check his vitals and he was fine, which wasn't the case of Anderson. He had a broken rib and shoulder. "Get him out of here", Tony told Happy. "F.R.I.D.A.Y scan the area please." "Right away boss." The AI made a quick check and replied, "East wing sir." He marched to the indicated position and saw your unconscious body beneath the wooden stairs. He quickly lifted you from the ground and flew out of the burning place, landing a few feet from the building, a crowd of students surrounding the perimeter.  "Make some space please", he told them. "The vitals are in critical stake, she needs surgery immediately", said F.R.I.D.A.Y. Tony told Happy to join him at the compound before flying away.

10 minutes later he landed on the compound's, the Avengers already gathered around outside after Tony's emergency call. "What happened?", asked Steve. "Who's that?", asked Natasha at the same time. "Bruce?", replied Tony. "Already waiting for you." He quickly flew to the medical bay, the rest of the team hot on his trails and dropped you on the bed. "She's at a critical state and needs immediate surgery." "Wait up Tony, we have to run a scan in order to know where to operate." He nodded at him and told him to make it fast. Getting out of his suit, he grabbed your hand and said, "Hey it's gonna be alright. Don't you dare die on me." The team looked at each other confused. "Tony", exclaimed firmly Steve before pointing at the TV screen. The news showing the rest of the building still in flames along a message posted by Hydra, ‘It is only the beginning.’ "F.R.I.D.A.Y", he started but was cut by the AI "On it."  The machine began to beep uncontrollably. "What's happening?", asked Sam. "Everybody out", shouted Bruce not being able to focus. The team did as he said and exited.

"Tones what happened? Who is that girl?", asked Rhodes quietly seeing his best friend pace frantically. "That girl right there is the reason I'm still alive. She saved everyone in that building", he stated. "I don't know how, yet, but her teacher said she knew it was going to explode." "What do you mean 'she knew'?", asked Steve. "I don't know Cap." "An enhanced individual?", stated Vision. "Maybe but the fact is that she saved us. She can't die. Just can't", replied Tony. Pepper hugged her husband while whispering sweet nothings in his ear, trying to calm him down when Happy entered the room. "Anderson?", asked Tony. "He's being taken care off at the hospital." "Any casualties?", said Natasha. "No. People got injured due to the force of the explosion but no, thank god no one died." "I'm gonna go check on the teacher maybe he has more intel", replied Natasha, Clint and Sam joining her.

Hours after, Bruce finally exited the medical bay and was faced by Tony who only managed to take a shower before going back and wait outside the room for some news. Steve, Bucky, Wanda and Vision were sitting next to him. They stood up as soon as they saw Bruce step out. "How is she?", asked Wanda. "She's stable for now but I'm afraid we have another problem." "What problem?", asked Tony afraid. "She has super soldier serum running through her veins but it's not like Steve or Bucky's." "How?", Bucky's voice was heard. "I don't know but I never saw anything like it", revealed Bruce. "What can we do?", asked Wanda. Bruce scratched behind his neck and sighed, "The only thing we can do now is wait for her to wake up. If she does."

Natasha, Clint and Sam entered the medical wing and joined the team. "What do you got?", asked Steve in his Captain America stance, arms crossed in front of his toned chest. "We talked with the teacher and some students. All of them had different versions but agreed on saying that she was never the social one. Reserved, good grades", answered Sam. "Anderson said that she activated the alarms and pleaded him to leave the room, convinced that it would explode", added Clint. "Yeah and also she had some sort of nightmare before it all happened. One of her classmates said she woke up before Anderson entered the room, panting and scared", finished Natasha. "You think she saw the building explode before it actually happened like in a Final Destination kind of way?", mumbled Rhodes out loud. Everyone turned his way at his question and thought about it, except for Steve and Bucky who didn't understand the reference. "It's plausible, especially if she has super soldier serum in her system, indicating she's more than the good grade student she pretends to be", said Bruce. "She what now?", asked Sam. " F.R.I.D.A.Y call Fury and the other Avengers, we need to get to the bottom of this attack and see if we can intercept Hydra's upcoming strategies", declared Tony. "In the meantime let's just get some rest", told Steve. The team nodded and made their way to their headquarters except for Tony who's gaze landed a last time on your door.

'Wake up' … 'For fuck's sake wake up Y/N. We need to get out of here. It isn't safe.' 'Wake up', the voice commented in a whisper. Your eyes shot open, your lungs letting out a deep gasp filling themselves with air. You looked around and saw the beeps of your heart steadying. It didn't look like a hospital which made your heart beat faster. You took a few deep breaths and ripped the syringe off your arm. You didn't know why but you had to get out of there. You stood up as silently as you could and when you reached the door, a female voice was heard. "Miss Y/L/N you're in a weak condition, I informed Mr Stark that you are awake. He will be there in a minute." You looked around you trying to find the source of the voice but there was anyone beside you. You quickly got out of the room and engaged in the corridor when you heard the elevator annonce his arrival. You stopped death on your tracks and saw a tall, dark haired man get out of it while yawning. He stopped and delicately turned your way, his eyes widening once seeing you standing there. You took a step back, fear creeping up your body and he noticed. "Hey I'm not gonna hurt you. Let me take you back to the bed", he spoke calmly. 'We've heard that before', the voice in your mind spoke. Quickly turning around, you began running at full speed trying to get as far as possible from him. You felt his footsteps following you at a fast pace and doubled your own speed. Seeing the dead-end of the corridor, you jumped through the window not thinking about the consequences. "Noo", he shouted. 

You flew out, the broken glass surrounding you and landed two floors down on firm land. You groaned in pain, cuts ornamenting your body and saw him standing at the verge of the broken glass. Lifting yourself up, a hand pressed against you abdomen, you ran as fast as you could until the building was a mere point on your eyesight. You ran for what seemed like a lifetime and stopped in the corner of a dark alley. "Fuck", you mumbled once seeing your bloodied hand and blouse. You needed a plan and you needed it fast. You saw a thrift shop not far away, clothes hanging outside and slowly walked to it. When you assured yourself that the employee wasn't paying attention, you grabbed the closest clothes, checking the sizes. Eventually you managed to grab a pair of jeans, an oversized shirt and jacket, a hat completing the look.

You marched at the bus stop and the driver opened the door. "Can I get in? I don't have the money for the ticket but I need to get as near as possible to the hospital", you said weakly while showing him your wound. "Please" Scared himself, he let you in and dropped you as promised not very far from the hospital. At a distance you saw black SUV's and agents surrounding the perimeter. Cursing under your breath, you took a deep breath, elevated your posture and marched as smoothly as you could. You managed to bypass them and entered the hospital, your eyes scanning the area. Engaging in a hallway, you quickly turned around when you saw Stark and Steve Rogers walking your way. At that moment a nurse exited the staff room and you took the opportunity to skip inside, leaving it a millimeter open. The two Avengers stopped on their tracks, their tone raising. "How did we lost her? This is intolerable. She must be bleeding somewhere", commented Stark frustrated. "I don't know Tony, you saw the footage, she jumped through a window. Bucky had no chance to stop her." The billionaire sighed while Rogers continued, "We will find her and clear this mess. I promise we will do everything we can to protect her." "Let's just find her before she bleeds to death", added Tony. They continued their way while you closed the door completely and sighed in relieve. "Why are the Avengers looking for me?", you asked yourself out load. The next moment it all came back in flashes : the missile, you waking up and alerting everyone before it exploded for real. Stumbling on your feet, you reached the closest painkillers along everything you needed to disinfect the wounds.

Avenger's Compound

"Alright people I know it has been some rough days but we just got a clue concerning Hydra's next attack", exclaimed Steve to a sleep-deprived audience. "Where did you get that intel?", asked Sam with a smirk. Everyone turned towards their Captain who blushed profoundly. He cleared his throat before saying it was from Sharon Carter. "Still in contact?", teased Natasha. He rolled his eyes and replied, "Come on guys, it was just one kiss years ago. We're colleagues and professional." Some of them chuckled at his words before Thor spoke up. "How about lady Y/L/N. Does anyone know where she is?" "Not yet Point Break but we're close, I can feel it", replied Tony. "The mission is recon on this building: four floors. Sam and Tony you both take the air, me and Bucky will take the backside of the fourth floor, while Natasha and Clint, you'll take the second floor and Thor the third one. Wanda and Vision will be at the buildings entry. Everyone ok with that?", ordered Steve. "Aye Aye Captain", grinned Clint happily, who received a stern look from the concerned.

__

After taking care of your wounds, you left the hospital as you entered : without being seen. You couldn't go back to your dorm right away because you knew it was the first place they would search for you. You had no idea why you were running away from the Avengers, they're supposed to be the good guys right? "So why am I hiding from them?", you asked yourself. Incognito, you passed by the campus, the place who used to be full of life and laughs was now a battlefield, ashes still on the ground. You managed to crash at one of your friends place, telling her you were too scared to sleep at night by yourself and she welcomed you with open arms. You left her place two days later after. While she left for work, you prepared yourself some cornflakes and swipe channels until you saw your picture on the News. "Witnesses have informed that the suspect knew the building was about to explode and warned them beforehand. Is Y/N Y/L/N a Hydra associate and betrayed the terrorist organization or was her gesture a distraction for something bigger? This was NYNews", declared the journalist. "What the fuck are they talking about? I'm not a fucking Hydra member!", you stated in anger. You left your friend a note and took off.

You were beyond pissed and decided to head back to your dorm grabbing some cash. You weren't acting logical, almost like a fugitive but if History taught you something, it was that whenever you tell the government that you're not involved in something they will do the best they can to incriminate you. You managed to enter the dorms without being seen and headed to your room, silently entering inside. Everything seemed at its place. You squated down the desk and grabbed the money you managed to save during your college years. When you stood up and walked to the door, the wood cracked underneath your foot. You looked down and realized that the wood plate was a different shade than the others. "That's weird. I never noticed this", you breathed out silently. Touching the plate, you felt it dislocate and took it out, underneath was a black backpack. You opened it and saw cash inside alongside a gun and documents. "What the fuck", your eyes widened. You sat down on the ground, your hands holding your head who was about to explode. "What is going on?" You went through the documents : a birth certificate, a license and a passport, all on a fake name. With it was a small note and an address handwritten "In case you're in danger, go to this place." You heard movement outside, gathered everything back into the bag and waited until the way was cleared.

It could be a trap but following your instinct, you made your way to the address written on the note. You ended up on the forth floor of a freshly renovated building. You managed to find the key and opened the door, entering silently like a fox, checking your surroundings. It was empty, the furniture still wrapped under translucide tarp covers.  Knowing it would be safe there, you hid the emergency backpack before taking some cash out. You checked the room and found clothes at your size in the wardrobe. Whoever wrote that note knew you. You changed clothes, put on a cap and fake glasses. Not like it would help a lot but still. After checking yourself a last time on the mirror you decided to head out for some groceries. You chose the local small shop instead of a larger store where there were more chances for people to recognize you. Going through the ailes your opted mostly for food cans and picked the strict minimum on the fresh section. You got to the hygiene section and your eyes landed on the hair products. You picked everything you needed in order to get yourself a different hairstyle, putting all the chances of not being recognized on your side. After getting all you needed you headed to the cashier and paid for the groceries without missing the scrutinizing gaze of the employee. In less time than you could count you were back at the appartement and changed your hairstyle as planed before settling down for the rest of the night.

Having spent one of the worst nights of your life, you woke up the next day and cleaned yourself up before going to the kitchen and prepare some breakfast. You grabbed an apple and were about to take your first bite when something caught you attention. It was too quiet, way to quiet. You thought about reaching the gun you found on the bag, when men in uniforms and armed flew through the windows inside the apartment. Your gaze turned behind you, the only way out through the balcony, when you saw Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes break down the door. They were so focused in you that they didn't realized that the other men were already firing at your direction. You saw bullets enter the two Super Soldier's heads and fall back, lifeless.

You were pulled back instantly and were in a neath scenery, your hand reaching for the apple. In a second, you grabbed the gun and backpack when the men flew through the windows. Before they were able to start shooting, you ran through the balcony's door and tackled Rogers and Barnes to the ground, your curvy body and thick thighs between the men's firm legs. You looked up and saw their shocked expressions. The men inside the apartment began shooting. The three of you took cover while the Falcon and Iron Man took care of them. One of the man fell next to you with a detonator in his hand. "It's gonna explode", Steve shouted through the comms. "We need to jump", you told them and stood up before  sprinting into the air, knowing well that Stark would catch you. They did the same seconds before the apartment exploded. The Falcon caught Bucky, while you and Rogers continued falling. You felt a metal hand push you up, while Rogers was caught by Vision. You looked up and saw Iron Man already looking at you. "I got you", he said.

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[dovechim]

sugar, spice, and everything nice (m)

➾ 13k, weak sperm jimin x witch! reader, a crack smut essentially

➾ summary: you and jimin have been trying for a baby for the past six months, to no avail, but then you realise one crucial mistake: you’ve been neglecting your witchy heritage. what ensues is a month of trial and tribulation... for jimin at least. 

➾ warnings: mentions of difficulty conceiving, oral sex (m/f), snowballing, cock ring (kind of??), sex toys, ball play, impregnation, cum inflation, degradation, power play, clit and titty spanking, name calling, jimin is a cum machine, jimin gets cockblocked by a cat

➾ a/n: i died while writing this, but happy birthday to my sunshine boy, my angel, the love of my life, mr park jimin. your beauty and the kindness of your soul never ceases to amaze me. 

➾ a huge. huge. huge. thank you to @94hixtape because she supported me like a victoria’s secret bombshell bra throughout this entire process. right from the start when i decided to speed write this at the last minute, to when i was yelling at her about how i can’t do this anymore :”) i am eternally in your debt, lu. i hope you enjoy Mr Muffin <3

“No, Jimin. For the last time, you can’t ‘squeeze in a quickie’ before we leave. It’s not the right time,” you push your husband away with impatient hands as you try to get your winged liner just right. “The Ascendant is in Gemini, not Libra, and Cancer isn’t in the 10th house. Do you even have any idea what this means?”

Jimin stares at you with a blank expression on his face. “Um, no?”

You sigh in exasperation, channelling a little of your inner focus to get the flick on your left eye. Jimin watches you in the mirror with a little pout on his plush lips, leaning over to bury them in your neck as he scatters kisses all over your warm skin. “All I know is that I’m horny, and I want to make a baby. Right now. Little Jimothy is telling me that right now is the right time.”

Putting him on hold as you layer on some black liquid lipstick, you raise an eyebrow at him in the mirror before you turn to look pointedly at his crotch. As per doctor’s orders, Jimin is wearing loose boxer shorts with no underwear in an effort to promote testicular health and raise his sperm count. You’ve been trying for a baby with him for the past 6 months, and while you’re not entirely desperate to have one, Jimin gets hard at the thought of you being round and heavy with his child. You never knew he had such a preference for pregnant women, till he told you that he also very much enjoys the baby-making process.

A little too much, if you do say so yourself, since there has been little success so far.

Sometimes you think Jimin is doing this on purpose because he likes to see you all plugged up with his semen, only to pull out and watch the thick mixture leak from you. But you’ve been doing it in every position possible, timing it with your ovulation and aiming for multiple loads a day with your hips raised in the air after each one, and still… nothing. Although, the look on your husband’s face every time he slides his cock into your already filled, sloppy seconds pussy is second to none, so you indulge him (and maybe yourself too).

After several doctor’s visits and checkups, you realized that you’ve been neglecting one very important part of your heritage. You do come from a line of witches, after all, and perhaps the solution to your woes lies in the supernatural. So tonight, at the witch’s coven meeting, you’re going to find some answers.

“Come on, we’re late, get changed.” You purse your lips at yourself in the mirror once before rising and turning to get your bag. “And don’t wear those tight jeans, baby. Wear the ones I got you instead.”

You catch Jimin right in the act as he’s about to shove his other leg through his favourite pair of light wash jeans, the ones that cup his ass so perfectly, but cradle his balls a little too closely. Caught red-handed, Jimin slowly eases his remaining leg out of the jeans before dropping them to the ground, slightly upset as he turns to open the cupboard. You recognize all the signs of him throwing a mini tantrum- his cheeks are puffy, lips more pouty than usual and he is fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, unable to maintain eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” You crowd in behind him, lifting your arms to encircle his waist as you press wet kisses to his chubby little cheeks. Jimin always claims to hate it when you do anything involving his cheeks, but you know he secretly loves the attention. He also loves it when you baby talk him, although he’d rather eat bat spleen than admit it. “Is my little baby daddy upset? Tell me so I can make it better.”

He turns away from you in an attempt to play hard to get, but you are nothing if not persistent, and you know your husband’s moods all too well. “Is this because the doctor won’t let you wear tight jeans anymore?”

“…No.”

“Oh come on, you know you can’t lie to me.” You turn him to face you, hands sliding down his back to cup his supple ass with both palms. “I know how much you love your ass, and trust me baby, I do too. But this is for the good of… Jimothy. Alright?”

You do your best to keep from grimacing as you use his favourite word for his… thing. But Jimin still seems unconvinced as he glances down at his thighs.

“Here. I’ll cast this new spell that I learnt the other day. It’ll make your pants look tighter on the outside, so that everyone will still know that you have thighs and an ass to die for. Okay?” You smooth your thumb over his cheek, satisfied when he finally grins like a rosy cheeked cherub.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you give him a quick kiss to his lower belly before focusing on the loose material of his jeans. Closing your eyes and channelling your inner energies, you whisper a few words and feel the burst of magic surge through your fingertips. When you open your eyes again, you are immediately assaulted with the sight of his gorgeous thick thighs that you know and love, bands of corded muscle that have brought you to the height of ecstasy.

“There. Better?” You glance up at him, studying his reaction.

Jimin considers his new appearance, even turning to appreciate his own ass in the mirror before he finally deems it satisfactory. But as he turns to you once more, you notice something else. The front of his loose jeans are currently tented, and Jimin fidgets on the balls of his feet when he realises.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ve just been so on edge, baby,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I haven’t jerked off in the last month like you told me to. My balls are so full right now, I think I could fill up an entire cauldron. It’s just… your position down there…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you run a hand up his thighs to soothe him, but it only works him up further as a wet patch begins to form. “Let me help you feel better. Just sit on the bed and relax, baby.”

You push him backwards so that he sinks onto your shared bed with his thighs spread wide. Positioning yourself between his legs, your mouth begins to water as you anticipate the feeling of him in your mouth once more. You haven’t sucked him off since you began trying for a baby, reason being that not even one drop of cum should go to waste. Everything should end up in your pussy where it belongs. But given that the moon and the sun are not aligned tonight, you can afford to waste one tiny little load of his. Besides, it’ll give you a chance to test his sperm count with that spell you’ve been meaning to try.

Jimin’s hips are already canting upwards in anticipation as you fiddle with the button on his jeans, flicking it open and taking him out. He is already swollen and dripping with precum in your hand, and you take the opportunity to tease him with kitten licks to his head, cleaning up every drop. He is salty and sweet on your tongue, and as you take him in deeper, his girth forces your mouth open wider.

“All the way, please, deeper,” Jimin is whining as lifts the hem of his shirt to run his fingers over his tensed abdomen, all the way to his peaked nipples. A glance down at you almost makes him lose his load on the spot- your black lips are devouring his cock, leaving a ring of black stain around his base. As if you are a Dementor sucking his soul straight out from his dick, but Jimin can’t think of any better way to go.

Loosening your throat, you push your nose into the patch of hair at his base, swallowing hard around his length so that he can feel the way your throat tightens around him. This elicits a very audible groan from him as he bucks his hips into you, expletives pouring from those dirty lips of his.

“I’m-m gonna cum, fuck, can’t last much longer,” there is a tinge of embarrassment in his voice, but to encourage him to cum down your throat, you massage his inner thigh soothingly, swallowing around him a few more times. His cock jerks and pulses upon your tongue, and salty warm liquid engulfs your tastebuds.

You milk him dry with your lips tightening around him, sucking him for all he’s worth, but not swallowing just yet. The jets of cum seem never ending, but each pulse gets weaker and weaker till Jimin squirms in your grip with a soft moan, cock softening as it slips out entirely.

Judging by the taste alone, his sperm count seems to have improved slightly, and the viscosity of his cum seems to be in tip top condition as you swallow the entire mixture down, and it slides down your throat with some difficulty. It’s still bitter though, and before you can think to salvage some of it for your spell, Jimin sits up and brings his mouth to yours. You push what’s left of his cum in your mouth into his with your tongue, and he moans in response, lapping it up eagerly. The resulting kiss is sloppy and messy, a mixture of his cum and your saliva dripping down both your chins.

You draw away to catch your breath, glancing in the mirror to check your black lip, only to see that it hasn’t budged at all.

Impressive.

You turn back to help Jimin with his pants- sans underwear of course, doctors orders- and with a snap of your fingers, the wet patch on the front of his jeans is gone. Jimin chuckles as he brings you in close for a kiss.

“That’s my beautiful, witchy wife.”

*

People are staring openly on the subway as you navigate through the many stairs to locate the right exit. To be fair, you do look quite the spectacle- bat wing sleeved, ankle length dress billowing behind you as you stride purposefully, with a full matte black lip and contrasting shades of autumn themed eyeshadow on your lids. Jimin is evidently a fan of the thigh high slit going up the side- you’ve had to bat his hands away a number of times already.

“Do people just… hold coven meetings in like, function rooms or something?” Jimin is glancing at the passing street signs with wonder. “Or is it a home affair? Could these any of these houses be home to a coven of witches? Will our home be a coven?”

“Ok firstly, a coven means a group of witches,” you stroke your thumb over his knuckles gently to take the sting out of your words. “But yes. Modern day witches do exist, and they are scattered far and wide. And no. We won’t be hosting any meetings, not if you don’t want me to, baby.”

You stop abruptly when you realise that you’ve almost walked past Number 31 on Ursula Street. Ascending the steps, you rap smartly on the door exactly 7 times.

“You’ll be, uh… throwing off our numbers a little,” you whisper to Jimin. “Usually we don’t allow observers into closed rituals. Runs the risk of disrupting things, we’re usually very secretive about the happenings of our meetings. Just some witchy logic. But I told them about us, and they said it’s okay.”

Before Jimin can respond, the door flings open, and Jisoo launches herself into your arms, squealing your name in excitement.

You are equally enthralled to be in the embrace of your best friend once more. Ever since you married Jimin, you’d skipped out on weekly coven meetings and rituals for fear of making Jimin feel left out, or subjecting him to their scrutiny. It’s uncommon for a witch to marry a Non Mag, practically unheard of in your wizarding community. But going totally MIA on your coven has since taken its toll on you, making it harder to conjure your magic and focus your energies.

Upon stepping into Jisoo’s house, you can immediately feel the effects of being near your coven rejuvenate your weary body- sparks of electricity running up and down your arms, your blood bubbling with a renewed sense of vitality, and-

Jimin is looking at you with a look of amazement and incredulity on his face.

“Shit, you look-“ he stutters on his words, unable to articulate just how alive you seem, eyes glowing and cheeks rosy, and entirely in your element here. “If I thought you were beautiful before, you are positively incandescent now.”

“Wait, really?” You touch your cheeks self consciously. “Oh- well, it’s because-“

“Come in, come in! We don’t have all night, our first ritual is about to start soon!” Rose bustles into the hallway, bundling you up in her arms and personally escorting you to the living room. When you make a sound of protest, glancing over your shoulder at Jimin, she pauses. “Oh, is this the husband you’ve been hiding away from us all this time?”

“Yeah, um…”

“Hi, I’m Jimin,” Jimin says hesitantly, but Rose, blasé as she always is, merely spares him a nod as she continues to usher everyone to the living room.

“Ritual first. Introductions can wait.”

The living room is darkened, with silver candles positioned around the room at strategic spots to lend the entire setting an eerie glow when you set them alight simultaneously with a wave of your arm. You can feel Jimin’s amazed eyes on you, for you typically don’t do such grand gestures of magic around him. But here, surrounded by your coven- your closest sisters- you are home.

“Show off,” Joy mutters playfully under her breath. “You’ve always been so good with that.”

“Well. Fire is my element,” you shrug as you take your place in the chalk drawn circle. “I do it more for the dramatic flair. Though I do quite like to be the queen of darkness.”

There are primroses and daisies scattered all across the floor within the circle, and a basket of strawberries sits waiting by the side as offerings. Joy picks up the basket, distributing them around the circle before she settles back in her spot. Rose has lit up some incense sticks and is passing them around, purifying the space with a sweet and flowery scent before the circle is cast.

Jisoo takes your hand, and you link hands with Joy on your other side. Together, the five of you are equally spread around the circle, and when you are all connected, you feel a familiar rush of exhilaration buzz in your veins. You close your eyes to concentrate as your leader, Jisoo, begins the chant to invoke your coven’s deity- the Norse goddess Freya, also known as Queen of the Valkyries, the goddess of love, beauty, sex, and quite fittingly, you note to yourself, fertility.

Jisoo begins the chant with a low hum in her voice. “I call upon the powers of the East, powers of air to help me clear my mind.”

To her left, you continue. “I call upon the powers of the South, powers of fire reminding me of my inner strength.”

Joy’s turn. “I call upon the powers of the West, powers of water which connects me to the Mother’s blood.”

And lastly, Rose’s voice comes out loud and clear. “I call upon the powers of the North, powers of the Earth to keep my body strong, and my mind centred.”

And then all four voices are lifted in harmony with one another, four bodies merged as one, centered in sisterhood and anchored in blood.

Freya, Goddess of Magick Mother of the Earth, keeper of the runes I invite you to join us. Freya, Goddess of the many names, Goddess of nature and fertility Mother of the silver moon hear us. Freya, Goddess of Love Join us. Freya, your guidance and wisdom I seek. Come to us now.

And then silence, as the candlelight dances over your face, casting a shadowy cloak over your features, and Jimin hears the wind howling outside. From his vantage point in the hallway, even he can taste the electrified atmosphere on his tongue, feel the hairs on his arm stand on edge as the elements are summoned, feel the heat of your fire burning away in the depths of his chest.

There is a moment when it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, and then the four of you rise to your feet at the same time, dropping your interlinked hands as the circle is broken.

With a wave of your hand, the candles are extinguished, and the lights come back on. You turn to Jimin still in the hallway with a grin on your face, sliding into his embrace with your cheek on his chest. “How was that?”

“You were magnificent.”

*

Jimin needs to come to these coven meetings more often.

He is currently in Jisoo’s kitchen, stuffing his face with the main course of roast turkey, sweet potato fries, French onion soup with pumpkin pie for dessert. It’s practically a Thanksgiving dinner right in the middle of August! He kicks himself for not asking about these meetings sooner. If he knew he would get to feast like a king like this, he would have been clocking in regular attendance months ago.

Jimin snags a spare plate, loading a heaping scoop of roast turkey for you. Having relocated to the kitchen when you said you needed some private time with your coven, Jimin realises that he hasn’t seen you ever since, and while the other girls have darted in and out to grab bites of food, he’s positive you haven’t had a bite to eat tonight.

And he can’t have that.

Venturing into the now normally lit living room, he finds you curled up on the couch with Joy, and the both of you are clasping each other’s hands and looking as if you are discussing something intense.

“Um, sorry to interrupt, but…”

“Jimin! Oh no, of course not, sorry for stealing your wife away,” Joy giggles, making a move to push herself up from the couch. “I need to get some things from the other room. You can have her back. We’re pretty much done now.”

“Oh,” Jimin says as he takes her place beside you, pushing the plate of food into your hands. “Don’t let me get in the way, though. I just wanted to make sure my wife had something to eat. I’ll just watch her finish this and you can continue after that.”

Sighs of envy follow, and Jisoo props her chin on her knees as she stares at you wistfully. “You got a good one there, _____. Don’t let him go.”

“Thank you, baby,” you lean over to kiss Jimin’s cheek, grinning when there is cooing and giggling from the other girls. “Everything okay so far?”

“Everything’s great!” Jimin is grinning enthusiastically. “The food especially. I could stay here all night!”

“No need for that,” you chuckle, starting to dig in on the mouthwatering slabs of luscious, fatty meat that Jimin had picked out for you. “We’re almost done. In fact, I was just about to tell you that we can go. I just need the stuff from Joy.”

The gravy is deliciously salty and savoury, and once again you have to compliment Jisoo’s culinary expertise. You finish the entire plate in the blink of an eye, with Jimin’s watchful gaze making sure that you get the nutrition you need. He jumps up and offers to get you a second plate when you’re done, but then Joy reappears with a hefty looking leather bag in one hand, and a bag full of Tupperware in the other.

“Got your stuff here,” she hands you the carrier with a wink, “and packed some food for you to take home here. C’mon, just take it already. You know we can’t finish these all on our own. And it looks like Jimin-“ she cuts herself off with a host of giggles. “Jimin’s going to need his strength in the coming weeks.”

“Wait, what-“ Jimin’s confused glance at you goes unanswered as you roll your eyes at her, but accept her offering.

Glancing into the leather bag furtively, you sling it over your shoulder, as you get up from the couch. Jimin takes the bag of food from Joy as he follows you out to the hallway. “Baby, need help with that other bag? It looks heavy, let me carry it.”

You seem a little distracted as you meet his gaze. “Oh, what? No it’s okay. Let’s get home. I already called our Uber.”

“Good luck Jimin!!!” The three other girls shout from the living room as you usher Jimin out the door hastily, shushing him when he tries to ask any questions.

Little does Park Jimin know what he’s in for in the coming weeks.

*

A soft meow stirs him from his sleep, and Jimin opens his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them as he glances around in confusion. A cat? You and him don’t own one, so why-

“Say hi to Mr Egg McMuffin!” You are currently holding a cat with fur as dark as midnight, cradling him like a baby to your chest as he explores your chin with his paws. “Mr Muffin, do you wanna say hi to Jimin here?”

And then you practically thrust the cat at him, and in his haste to catch Mr Muffin, Jimin’s thumb nearly ends up in his butthole as he struggles to hold the silky black cat in his arms. Mr Muffin’s eyes are a luminous orange- strange eye colour, Jimin’s never seen an orange eyed cat before- as he glances up at Jimin and proceeds to lick his paw.

“Isn’t he the cutest?”

“U-um, yeah, sure babe, but wh-where did you get this? Surely not-“ Jimin breaks off to stare at the leather bag Joy had given you the other night.

“Oh no, don’t be silly,” you reach over to scoop Mr Muffin out of his arms. “He’s my familiar. Most witches have pets that they call familiars, and this is mine. I’ve been keeping him at Jisoo’s all this while because… well I didn’t know how you’d react to him. But after last night, I thought it might be finally time to bring him home.”

Jimin narrows his eyes at the black cat in your arms suspiciously. Alright, but that still doesn’t answer his question of precisely where you got that damned cat from. “Yeah, but where-“

Mr Muffin cuts him off by meowing loudly, his tail lashing back and forth.

“Oh look! Mr Muffin wants to be fed,” you coo at the cat, nuzzling your nose into his soft fur as you start to walk out of the room. Jimin’s eyes are immediately drawn to your bare legs, and he can feel the blood start to rush south as he greedily eats up the expanse of skin revealed to him.

“Baby…” Jimin whines, pushing aside the covers to reveal his cock, already starting to leak precum.

You glance backwards to take in this sight, and then return to nuzzling the cat’s soft belly. “Give me a minute baby-“

Jimin settles back into his pillow with his arms behind his head, a hand sneaking downwards to tug at his length before he realises-

“-you’ll get your food soon.”

That you were talking to the fucking cat and not him.

Once you’re out of the room, you allow Mr Muffin to leap out of your arms. As you scoop some food out for him into a bowl, you turn to him in a serious manner.

“Mr Muffin, I need your help.” At your imploring tone, he turns to you with a wise look in his eyes. “You already know what I’m asking for right? Jimin and I are trying to have a baby. But the problem is, he’s so fucking horny all the time, he can’t stop jerking off. The doctor says that it’s making his sperm all watery and weak, and it’s affecting our chances of conceiving.”

He sympathises with a meow and a headbutt against your knee.

“I know, thanks for the concern, Mr Muffin.” You sigh. “So I need you to help me stop him from masturbating. When I’m not home, you need to interrupt him and, I don’t know- shove your butt in his face like you used to do to me all the time back in high school.”

A few lashes of his tail as Mr Muffin considers your preposition.

“Please, Mr Muffin?” You scratch him just between the ears, just how he likes it, and he purrs in enjoyment. “You’re Jimin’s last hope. He can’t keep his hands off his dick. He’s probably in there jerking off as we speak. I can handle this one by myself, but in the future, it’s gonna be all you, buddy.”

Mr Muffin yawns, then approaches his food bowl. You take this to be a sign of agreement.

“Great! I’ll get you those tuna bites you like next time.” You need to sweeten him up somehow.

But that’s one thing done and checked off your list for now.

*

“I need to- what?” Jimin is currently half naked as you accost him after his shower. Well, he’s fully naked now, since you just ripped the towel off his lower half.

“Wear this. It’s a fetility sachet I made.” You dangle a pink silk cloth bag from your finger, roughly the size of a soup dumpling.

You’d spent all afternoon putting this together with the recipe from Joy. Since Joy’s element is Earth, you figured she was more in touch with Mother Earth than you are, and hence would be the perfect person to go to for advice. This particular recipe called for three mistletoe berries, one drop of Patchouli oil, one pinch of oak leaves, one hawthorne flower and a pinch of powdered mandrake. It wasn’t easy getting mistletoe berries when Christmas is this far away, but thankfully you managed to secure a good supply.

“Uh, okay,” Jimin holds out his hand. “Just put it around my wrist or something.”

“No, it has to be worn as close to the testicles as possible,” you tell him, taking a hold of his soft dick and pushing it against his damp abdomen. “Or else it loses its effectiveness. Just let me… loop this around back here… and cross that over here… there!”

You complete the knot around the base of his dick, being careful so as not to cut off his blood circulation as you position the bag just under his balls and lower his dick back into place. “Does it feel okay? Too tight? Too loose?”

“Wait, just a second,” Jimin reaches down to fidget with the string tied around his dick, already feeling uncomfortable with having something swinging around and hitting his balls. “H-how long do I have to wear this for?”

“All day. At night, you can put it under your pillow, and if we’re having sex, under the mattress.”

Jimin’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “Are you- fucking with me? I have to wear this… thing near my balls all fucking day?”

“Baby, don’t be like this,” you reach for his hand to placate him, but when he moves it away from you in irritation, you reach for the back of his neck instead, massaging it soothingly and focusing your calming energies into your fingertips. “It’s for… Jimothy’s own good. You want Jimothy to be as strong and as healthy as possible right? It’ll help with your sperm count and the thickness of your semen. The thicker the semen the better, since it’ll have all the nutrients your sperms need to swim as fast as possible to my egg.”

Jimin can feel the constriction around his dick getting tighter and tighter as you go on and on with your scientific facts about conception. When he glances down, his cock is slowly hardening- all this talk about cum is making him hard, but the stupid fucking charm on his cock won’t let him get to full erection without taking it off.

“God, alright,” he says in annoyance, closing his eyes as he flexes a thigh muscle hard, in order to try and redirect some of that blood flow from his burgeoning erection. “S-speaking of your egg, when are you ovulating this month?”

“Your dick looks so cute like that!” You coo as your fingers stroke over his soft, limp cock.

“It’s Jimothy,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Thank you baby,” you kiss him on the cheek sweetly, and he can smell the whiff of your cherry and tangerine scented perfume- which almost sends him right back to square one. “It should be the end of this week. So we have to get your sperm all healthy and ready to go.”

Thank fuck, Jimin thinks to himself, exhaling a breath to calm down. Not long more till his doctor imposed abstinence is lifted from him. Having to restrict himself to cumming only during a certain week a month is taking a toll on him, the blue balls are excruciatingly painful to suffer through especially when you like to push your ass back into his crotch when he is spooning you in bed every night. 

Suddenly, Jimin longs for the days of high school and college where he would masturbate till his cock was raw and his balls were empty. Now, he spends most of his time with his dick untouched and balls brimmingly full. He didn’t think baby making sex would be this torturous. His 19 year old self had always imagined fucking till his dick threatened to drop off, having sex non-stop at all hours of the day, constantly spilling his load and watching it leak out like it was the nectar of the gods. And because it was in so much abundance, he even fantasised about cleaning it all up with his tongue once or twice.

“I’m off to work now, have a good day!” You give him a quick kiss on his lips on tiptoe. “Wait I forgot! I need to say a brief enchantment to your balls- er I mean Jimothy over here.”

So you get down to your knees, cheeks against his balls, nuzzling them ever so slightly. Jimin feels the surge of blood rush downwards again, and he grunts in pain as the baby pink ribbon tightens around his slowly hardening dick.

“Oh goddess Freya, please join us as we bid for your blessings. Please allow our efforts to come to fruition, pour your anointing oil upon our ever yearning bodies as we strive to become one with Mother Nature.”

And then you are on your feet, kissing him on the cheek once more before heading out the door.

Jimin collapses on the bed in a heady rush, his erection fighting valiantly against the silk string tied around his base. He listens carefully for the sounds of the main door, then the gate unlocking and closing, then waits a few heartbeats more just to be sure.

Then, his hand sneaks down his toned chest, over his ripped abdomen, gripping his base tightly as he lets out a groan of relief. Impatiently, he tugs at one of the strings to loosen it, seeking to remove the offending object entirely so that he can stroke one out to his heart’s desire. The thought of painting his abs with his own cum has him beyond aroused, and his heart is racing, pounding in his chest as he swallows hard, spreading his thighs.

“MEOW!!!”

A mass of black fur pounces on him, and he yells out in surprise.

He drops his dick to attend to the hellcat currently taking up residence on his face, writhing and meowing and yelling so loudly that his head begins to spin. There is fur in his mouth, and he sputters to try and clear his throat.

“God-pppthhht fucking damn it Mr-ppthh Mr Egg- MR MUFFIN!!!”

For the love of all things that are holy, Mr Muffin has decided to stick his butt in Jimin’s face. He is now granted with a front row seat to a very intimate part of Mr Muffin he would much rather not be acquainted with, and his erection dies down very quickly.

He finally manages to grasp the cat by its mid-section, placing it on the floor and shooing it away with a general kick in its direction. It comes nowhere near hitting him, but it does the trick. Mr Muffin skedaddles, hissing all the way, but the damage has been done, and Jimin’s raging boner is no longer so.

*

You can feel the telltale signs of your ovulation period drawing near.

Tender twinges on one side of your belly, and your discharge is running clearer than normal. According to the ovulation test you took at work just now, the results came out negative, but you usually take more than one test anyway. It should begin anytime soon now, but you’ll take the next test at least 10 hours from now in order to make sure.

When you get home, Mr Muffin greets you loudly at the door. You reach down to give him pets and scratches, and he weaves in and out of your stride as you head to the kitchen to fix something to eat.

“Mr Muffin, were you good today baby?” You say loudly, glancing in the direction of Jimin’s study to make sure he doesn’t suddenly appear, before crouching down to tickle Mr Muffin’s chin. His entire ebony body vibrates in a purr, and you whisper to him furtively. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

Mr Muffin blinks at you slowly, once, twice, three times.

“He did?!” You say with a gasp. “I knew it. I knew it. That horny bastard can’t keep his hands off his dick for longer than a second. When? The moment I stepped out of the house? Oh god.”

The study door opens, and you straighten up with a smile on your face. Jimin comes padding out in his white tee and loose grey sweatpants, his classic attire on his days off. He seems to be waddling a little, walking awkwardly, but you surmise that it’s probably due to the little charm hanging near his balls.

“Hi baby, did you have a good day? Are you hungry? I was going to start dinner,” you smile as you turn to the fridge to start getting out the salad ingredients.

Jimin does a double take to make sure that you are, indeed, talking to him and not that blasted Mr Muffins this time. He sends a narrow eyed glare in Mr Muffin’s general direction- he should really talk to you about the terms of endearment the two of you use in your relationship- but the cat only yawns, exposing his razor sharp canines.

“It was alright, how was yours?” He shuffles in next to you to start boiling water for the pasta.

“Hmm, the usual, that stupid brat Jeongguk came in drunk again today. I don’t even know why we need an intern, but he’s quite possibly the brattiest intern we’ve had.” You chop up several tomatoes and apples before tossing them into the bowl with the lettuce. “Was it too uncomfortable?”

“What?” Jimin turns to you in the midst of measuring out the noodles. “Wh-oh! You mean the charm? It was alright.”

His grudging tone elicits him a kiss on his cheek as you cuddle into his chest to placate him. Jimin steals a kiss from your lips, savouring your lips on his own as his hands wander down to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you into his grasp. “I missed you while you were gone today.”

“I know, I missed you too,” you pull away and cup his cheeks in both hands. “You’re so good to me you know? Thank you for being so tolerant of all this. I know it’s been hard, but I’m sure it will pay off.” You kiss him on his nose before brushing his hair off his forehead and giving him another smooch there. “I got you something that I think you’ll really like.”

Jimin perks up immediately. “A surprise?”

“Come here baby, leave dinner for a sec,” you take his hand and lead him to the living room.

On your way back from work, you’d stopped by a shop that Joy recommended to you. Pulling the velvet bag out of its plastic carrier, you loosen the drawstring and pull out-

Jimin’s heart skips a beat as he watches you pull out a flesh coloured dildo the size of his forearm. He dry swallows a few times, feeling his dick stir in his sweats. “I-is that-“

“Yes, it is,” you grin at him.

God. That thing is massive. Jimin can feel himself getting excited just by thinking of getting to use it on you. It may not be the same as getting to fuck you himself, but just the thought of watching you take another dick that isn’t his own- and one of this size too- is more than enough to tide him over for now. 
He pulls you into his arms.

“I think dinner can wait, babe.” Jimin is suddenly hungry for something else.

You giggle against his chest.

“Let’s take this into the bedroom,” Jimin whispers huskily into your ear, sweeping you into his arms, onto his shoulder and spanking your ass cheek hard.

He plops you onto the bed, and your thighs part involuntarily. Jimin settles himself in between and kisses your lower belly as his hands skim up the insides of your thigh.

“I’ve been wet all day,” you admit to him as he pushes your skirt up. “In fact, I think I soaked through my panties. They’re ruined.”

“Oh really?” Jimin kisses a wet trail up your inner thigh. “I think… I’ll have to check for myself.”

Lifting your ass briefly so that he can get your skirt over your hips, Jimin scoops both arms under your legs. His breaths are now directly against your core.

“Look what we have here,” he explores the wet patch on your underwear with the tip of his tongue, making it even wetter. Then, he licks the entire area with his tongue, saturating the white cotton entirely. “So fucking sweet. A-are you ovulating already? Your pussy only tastes like this when you’re ripe for me.”

You squirm in his grasp as he pushes the crotch aside to press his nose into you intimately. “M-maybe, the te-test I took earlier-“

Jimin doesn’t wait to hear the results of the test as he tears your underwear off with a ravenous growl, dipping his tongue into your slit as he laps up every drop of your arousal. Every lick assaults your already engorged clit, brushing against it roughly as Park Jimin spreads your thighs wide. You are incredibly exposed to him as he devours your pussy like a man starved, and you can see the way his hips are gyrating against the mattress as if he is a dog in heat.

“So- fucking- sweet, can’t wait to fuck you full of my babies,” Jimin pants into your inner thigh, taking a moment to tease you with two fingers. He slides them into your entrance just barely, stretching you out and then withdrawing them. Sticky, clear strings of your arousal connect his fingers to your pussy, and he plays with them for a moment, pulling his fingers away to see how far they’ll stretch. Jimin takes pleasure in breaking them as his plush lips wrap around his digits. “Look how sticky and wet your pussy is baby. All ready for me to give you a baby. I don’t need some stupid test to tell me that there’s a ripe little egg waiting.”

“Jimin, please,” you thread your fingers into his hair, pulling him in closer. You can feel yourself just on the edge of orgasm, just a few more flicks to your sensitive clit and-

Your breath is ripped from your lungs as Jimin attaches his plump lips to your clit and just sucks, and you wail his name so loud that your throat goes raw. You can feel yourself leaking copious amounts of your arousal as you spasm around nothing, but Jimin licks every drop of it as if it was his last meal.

Then, he reaches for the huge pale dildo lying forgotten by your side, and you feel the head of it bump against your lips gently.

“Fuck, you’re so small,” Jimin exclaims, stroking your pussy lips reverently as you lay there boneless, legs spread wide. “Think you can take all of this?”

Wait, what?

You push yourself up onto your elbows as you frown at him, glancing down to see Jimin holding the item you’d bought against your lower lips, even slicking the head up with your wetness.

“Jimin, no-“ you reach down to grab it from him. “This isn’t a fucking dildo, for the love of Freya, Goddess Almighty! It’s a fucking fertility candle! We need to burn it while we have sex. And say an incantation to it before and after. You need to cum inside me as many times as you can before the candle runs out. That’s why I got such a long one, I figured Jimothy doesn’t work well under pressure.”

Jimin is speechless for a moment as he watches you push your skirt down and place the dild- dick shaped candle with veins running up the length of it- on the altar that you had set up in your bedroom.

“Wh-wait, when did that get there?” Jimin points an accusing finger at the pink and silver dressed altar, with the picture of the Norse goddess Freya at its very center. “It wasn’t there this morning-“

“What else do you think? I put it there just now,” you say as you set the candle in front of her picture.

Jimin forces himself to stop ogling at how bizarre this entire set up is- a regal looking altar with a ginormous dildo in front of a goddess.

Satisfied with the placing of the candle, you turn to him with a sweet smile. “Thank you for eating me out so well, baby. Are you trying something new? I’ve never seen you so… on edge before. But it’s hot.”

On edge? That’s because he abso-fucking-lutely is, Jimin clenches his fist in an attempt to calm himself down. He hasn’t had a moment to himself in ages because of that darned cat. Even when he locks himself in the study and browses through his favourite porn sites to take a little bit of the pressure off his blue balls, Mr Muffins knows. That eerie, stupid fucking cat just somehow knows. And then the cat will be pawing at his door, scratching the mahogany wood to ribbons, and somehow letting himself in even though Jimin swears he locked the door.

Jimin feels like his house is haunted.

*

Jimin has the perfect plan.

Turns out, your ovulation window doesn’t open today, but tomorrow night instead. Just the thought of having to wait sets his teeth on edge. Not to mention, every time the charm brushes against his inner thighs or his balls, Jimin doubles over in over-stimulation, his dick aching and desperate for some attention.

He’s resorted to taking the rest of the week off work now. There’s no possible way he can walk into the office with a charm around his balls like this.

Spending days alone with Mr Muffin has not softened him up to the intuitive animal. Jimin glares at it with eyes narrowed in derision every time it prowls around the entire apartment, avoiding any interaction with it as far as possible. But then, he thinks of the perfect solution to his problem. All it takes is a trip to the vet.

“Please, Dr Kim, please, my cat is very sick,” he puts on his best imitation of a pet owner worried sick. “Poor little Mr Egg McMuffin hasn’t been able to sleep in the past few weeks. I’ve tried everything, from lavender spray to warm milk, but nothing. You are Mr Muffin’s last hope.”

Dr Kim Taehyung sighs through his nose. It’s been a long day for him.

“Mr Park, I cannot simply just… take the cat away for observation. The vet kennels are full.”

Jimin slumps in his seat.

“However-“

Jimin perks up.

“I can prescribe some sleeping pills for you.” Dr Kim scribbles out an illegible note and hands it to Jimin. “Dissolve this in some warm milk and give it to him. Make sure to follow the recommended ratio, or else your cat will end up knocked out for the rest of the week instead of just one night.”

Jimin clasps the note to his chest, the burnished bright eyes of a desperate man as he thanks the vet enthusiastically.

With the medicine in hand, Jimin laughs all the way home.

“Here Mr Muffin, here kitty kitty,” Jimin calls, a saucer of the finest cream all ready and waiting.

But nothing. The darned hellcat is nowhere to be seen. Jimin calls and calls, but the devil is currently tucked away in his lair somewhere.

Jimin tries desperately to tame the rising frustration in his chest as he sets the saucer down gingerly. God. He never thought he’d resort to this.

He grasps himself firmly through his sweatpants, and groans aloud in relief. This is the first stimulation he’s had in weeks, and it sends blood rushing to warm his cock immediately. The string around the base of his cock tightens, but Jimin is well used to it now, even comes to like it as it restricts his soft, limp cock.

Hmm. Maybe he should be looking into some cock rings the next time he goes on Amazon.

Just as the thought passes, he hears an Earth shatteringly loud wailing meow, and then the devil himself is curling around his ankles. Mr Muffin stands on his hindlegs, sharp claws digging into Jimin’s sweatpants in an effort to get his hands off his dick.

“Mr Muffin, look what I got for you today,” Jimin releases his dick, and it seems to appease Mr Muffin’s enraged meows. He coos in a sickeningly sweet voice, the way he’s seen you do it, as he pushes the saucer of cream toward the cat. “That’s right, it’s a yummy treat for you.”

Mr Muffin approaches the saucer warily, eyes darting between the brimming surface and Jimin’s crouched figure suspiciously. His whiskers twitch as he sniffs the bowl once, then his tongue darts out carefully to taste it. With a lash of his tail against Jimin’s shins- Jimin only just barely holds in a muttered swear word- Mr Muffin crouches by the bowl as he laps up the cream noisily.

Jimin sinks back onto his ass with a quiet sigh of victory. Not long now.

Within moments, Mr Muffin is asleep on the floor, tongue lolling out as he dozes.

Jimin pumps a fist in the air as he shoves himself to his feet, hightailing it to his study and locking the door, double and triple checking it. He pulls up the porn he’s been saving since the dawn of eternity, scrolls through a few of them just to get himself warmed up as his dick hardens in response.

He’s been trying really hard for the past six months not to jerk off. He really has. He’s also been nourishing his body with all the right foods to ensure that his sperm is the strongest it can be, from oily fish like salmon and tuna to leafy green vegetables and citrus fruits. Alcohol and caffeine intake are also minimized, a feat given how much Jimin loves his beer and vodkas, but all for the sake of the baby. Along with increased exercise, he’s never felt better. At the last visit, doctor says his sperm health has improved tremendously, from motility, volume and count.

So just this once can’t hurt right?

He spreads his thighs, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Jimothy’s going to be in a good rough tough of war today.

His cock is twitching against his abdomen, even redder than usual due to the constriction at his base. As Jimin spreads his precum down his length, he groans loudly with the first stroke, thumb brushing against his weeping head.

With his other hand, he clicks play on the video currently loaded and it’s one of his personal favourites. A dark haired woman with the hugest tits he’s ever seen is kneeling, mouth open wide and tongue out for the cock that protrudes out the bottom of the screen. The camera cuts off just at the base of the dick in the video, so if Jimin just puts a little of his imagination into it, it looks like the woman onscreen is sucking his dick.

“Fuck,” he groans as sounds of spit and slick accompany the onscreen couple as the male porn star begins to fuck her face. To simulate this, Jimin speeds up his pace, trying his best not to dislodge the charm too much. He wants to cum, alright, but he also doesn’t want to waste your efforts when you so clearly believe that this will help the quality of his sperm.

The man is starting to thrust into her face now, making her breasts bounce lewdly, and the telltale tingles are starting in his balls and at the base of his spine, sweat gathering on the lines of his flexed abdomen as he pants in desperation.

“Unnhh, shit, I’m so fucking close, w-wanna blow my load so deep,” Jimin is in the throes of delirium, imagining the babymaking sex that’s soon to come, his cock throbbing in his grip as he calls to mind the sweet taste of your pussy.

He’s so close, he can almost taste his orgasm, his fist tightens around himself as he fucks up into the tight suction of it. His release is so deliciously close, he can feel his balls churning as he gets ready to unload all over his abs and chest, and then-

There is a knock on the door, and your voice calls out.

“Jimin baby, are you in there?”

Fuck. When did you get home? Jimin is this close to blowing his load.

He struggles to get his voice under control as he answers back. “Yeah, you’re home early?”

“What are you doing in there?”

“I’m working baby, on a Skype call with Namjoon. He’s on mute now but we’re going over some important stuff.” Jimin glances at the busty blonde in another video currently half naked on his screen, getting her brains fucked out with two cocks inside her. “Also, he’s half naked on screen, so I doubt you want to come in.”

“Are you wearing your FitBit?”

The seemingly random question catches Jimin off guard as he glances down at his wrist. “Yeah, why?”

“Because your step count just surged from 2000 to over 8500. I set up notifications on my phone. Now open the damn door unless you want me to put little Jimothy in a chastity cage.”

Jimin sighs as he drops his dick.

*

You’re still mad at him over Mr Muffin.

The cat has been sleeping for over a day now. And while Jimin was just a little heavy handed with the medicine, he honestly didn’t mean to hurt him. Just put him out of commission for a bit.

After fussing over Mr Muffin for a few hours, you force yourself to calm down and understand Jimin’s point of view. Your poor husband must be so on edge, having to store his sperm for a month and only being allowed to ejaculate when you’re ovulating. It’s no wonder that the blue balls are making him more short tempered than usual. Your sweet natured husband has been putting up with all of your spells and charms and weird hijinks all this while, and you’re surprised that he managed to hold out this long.

You know that tonight is the night that he’s been waiting for. Jimin’s gaze has been positively ravenous the past few days, you can feel the weight of his gaze following you around the apartment, and he refrains from touching you at all. The other night, he insisted on sleeping with a pillow fort in between the both of you, mumbling something about not being able to control Jimothy if you stick your ass in his crotch just one more time.

When you get home from work, you immediately take a test just to confirm and be absolutely sure. The positive result sends your heart into your throat as you clutch the stick in your fist, making your way out of the bathroom and calling Jimin’s name.

The man in question comes out of his study, where he’s been isolating himself for the past day or so, and he meets your gaze with hopeful eyes. Suddenly feeling on edge from the way he tracks your every movement like a predator, you weakly hold up the stick, and no other words are needed.

The Jimin that you see now is not your lovable husband who pours ketchup all over his fries like a barbarian and laughs so hard that he gives himself stomach cramps and needs to be held like a baby in order to calm down. No, the Jimin that you see in front of you is a changed man. His fists are clenched, jaw set firmly so that you can see the way his cheek muscle tenses as his eyes dart in the direction of the bedroom.

This is a Jimin that you’ve never known before.

“Bedroom. Now.”

Swallowing hard, you turn around to obey him, making sure to keep Mr Muffin safely locked up in his cage before proceeding with shaky legs and a palpitating heart. You spare a glance toward the altar in your bedroom, shooting up a quick prayer to Freya to help you survive this even as you light the dick shaped candle with a twitch of your fingers.

“Clothes off. Arms above your head. On your back, legs spread.”

His voice sounds from behind you, and not daring to look back, you push your sweats down past your hips, your underwear along with it as it hits the floor. You can feel his hard gaze eating up every single inch of exposed flesh even as you bring your shirt over your head and toss it aside. Finally turning to face him, you seat yourself on the bed, feeling incredibly exposed as your eyes cast over his clothed figure.

Jimin’s eyes are devoid of his usual warmth that you know and love. Instead, they are roaming over your skin in a brief manner that hardly betrays any emotion at all, as if he’s entirely unimpressed. “Don’t make me wait longer than I already have.”

A thrill sings through your veins as you move backwards, head on your pillow as you spread your legs slowly, a heat upon your cheeks as you can already feel how wet your inner thighs are. Jimin’s eyes linger on the hidden treasure between your thighs for just a tad longer, making you fidget as you wait for his next instructions.

Jimin rummages in his closet for a moment and comes away with a few of his silk ties, and your heart skips a beat, even as you don’t dare move a single muscle. He comes back to the bed and binds both of your hands together tightly, securing the ties around your wrist before he moves down to your spread ankles.

“This’ll help you keep your slutty legs spread, hmmm?” Jimin casts a glance up at you as he binds your ankles to each corner of the bedposts, fingers working swiftly as if he’s done this a million times before. While his face remains entirely expressionless, he sends you quick glances every now and then to check in with you, careful touches around your restraints making sure that they aren’t too tight.

While you and Jimin have experimented with power play once or twice, you’ve never done it to this extent, and Jimin has certainly never tied you up like this. You are completely helpless, vulnerable to his every whim and fancy, and all too ready to be devoured by his lustful little smirk as Jimin caresses the inside of your thighs with teasing dances of his fingers.

“You put me through so much shit in the past month, baby. Did you know that?” Jimin continues to let his fingers trace absent minded patterns on your skin, working his way up to the apex of your thighs. “Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

A mix of adrenaline and fear courses through your veins as he hums low in his throat, thumbs spreading your lower lips as he inspects your sex thoroughly. You are enraptured by this new side of him, his eyes are cold as he glances back up at you to check for your reaction, spanking your clit harshly when you remain silent. “Answer me when I ask you a question, slut.”

You moan and jerk in response, fidgeting in your restraints. “N-no, I was just- I didn’t-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear your pathetic whimpering anymore.” Jimin swipes a finger on your inner thigh to gather your transparent arousal, bringing it to his lips for a brief taste. “Looks like someone’s a desperate little cockslut. So wet for me already, and I haven’t even done a thing.”

Jimin traces his hands up your hips, skimming over your belly to cup your breasts, flicking a nipple idly, expression almost bored as he watches it pebble under his touch. “Look at these. All mine. After tonight, I’ll be watching these tits swell and fill up with milk for the baby I’ll be fucking into you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? I’m going to make your tits dribble with sweet milk for our baby, and I’m going to make you beg for me to suckle every drop.”

A satisfied smile paints upon his lips as he considers the visual, and then he skims a hand down to stroke the small swell of your lower belly. “You’re going to be so round and swollen with my baby, princess. Do you want that?”

You are positively leaking all over the sheets now, feeling a sticky puddle right under your ass as you pant harshly under his touch, sweat beading on your forehead as you arch your hips. “Y-yes, fuck, ple-ase, I want your baby so bad Jimin.”

A satisfied nod as he rewards you with a caress to your cheek. “Listen closely. I won’t be spoiling you with foreplay since you’ve been nothing but a selfish little bitch for the past month. Tonight, orgasms are only for good little girls who can keep my cum inside them without wasting a drop. Lucky for you, you’ll be getting more than one load inside you tonight. What’s your safeword?”

At his prompting, you recall the discussion you last had with him when you began dating. “Mango.”

Jimin pushes himself away from your body only to reach past the waistband of his shorts, untying the small charm that you made him wear under his balls for the past month. With his shorts still on, he moves to the side of the bed to tuck it underneath the mattress like you instructed him to all those weeks ago before returning to his position between your thighs.

Once more, Jimin starts to lower the waistband of his shorts. You involuntarily make a noise in the back of your throat when you realise that he intends to fuck you like this, fully clothed and hiding his beautiful body from your gaze, and Jimin’s eyes harden in a silent reprimand, hands gripping your inner thighs hard enough to bruise.

“What was that, slut?”

You shake your head in response, eyes wide as he teases you by lifting the hem of his shirt and exposing just a hint of his carved hipbones and a glimpse of his rock hard abs.

“I thought so. Don’t make me blindfold you.” Jimin palms himself while directing his gaze straight at your pussy, finally opting to rid himself of his shorts and stroke his cock with a barely restrained groan. “I should fuck that pretty face of yours till you choke, make you cry like the little bitch you are. Make you swallow so much cum that you can’t taste anything else for a week. You think you call the shots in this house? Think again, princess.”

But thankfully Jimin knows the end goal of tonight, and he nudges his head against your lips briefly. You clench involuntarily at the contact, feeling his blunt cock start to press past your entrance with that delicious friction of the first thrust as he starts to breach your walls. With a fluid thrust of his hips, Jimin sinks into your cunt balls deep, his cock gliding past your saturated walls that grip him tight.

A moan escapes your throat as he settles with his hips flush against yours, but Jimin is too preoccupied with the feeling of you around his cock to punish you for it. The aching burn of his girth leaves you giddy and breathless, and normally Jimin would pause to let you adjust to his size, but not today. He positions himself on his knees, spread apart for better leverage, and his hands are gripping your hips with a deathly hold as Jimin begins to fuck your cunt with measured strokes. Every thrust goes as deep as possible, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he plunders your depths with a ferocity never before seen. His jaw is clenched as he focuses on fucking you so good and so hard, cock spreading you apart and making your pussy froth with cream around his base.

You are gasping and moaning under him, but it seems to only spur him on as he shoves forward with his hips, embedding his cock in your pussy till you can feel him right against your cervix.

“Such a pretty cunt, look how creamy you are. So hungry for cock. So desperate to get knocked up with my baby.” Jimin withdraws again, resting the tip of his cock against your lips as he gathers some of the froth at his base and brings it to your lips. “Lick it up, slut.”

Your tongue willingly cleans his fingers of your own arousal, suckling on them as he resumes his fucking, cock pistoning in and out of your drenched pussy. Jimin slides his thumb over your clit in circles, causing you to jerk under him with a whine and a sob, walls clenching down on his cock.

“That’s it, milk me with your pussy, work that cunt for my load. You’re such a fucking cockslut, look at you. Whining and moaning on my cock,” Jimin grunts hard as he grabs you by the hair close to your scalp, tugging harshly. “God, fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so deep and so good. Feel me here?”

Jimin releases his grip on your hair and presses a hand to your lower tummy, places pressure on it hard. “That’s your fertile womb. I’m going to flood it with so much cum you’ll be dripping for days. You’re not leaving this bed till you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Your walls are fluttering around him, and you can feel the telltale signs of your orgasm approaching as Jimin’s hips smash into yours repeatedly, the wet, filthy sounds of your cunt being battered by his cock are all that you hear. But just as you almost reach the precipice, Jimin pulls his thumb away from your clit to grip your hips tight and drive his cock into you with three harsh thrusts before he lets out an earth shattering groan, releasing within your depths.

You can feel every thick spurt of cum as his cockhead kisses your cervix, flooding you with warmth as you lie there at his mercy. His thick cock is throbbing and pulsing, and you can feel him so intimately that it makes you quiver with need to receive everything he has to give you. Jimin’s hips are moving sloppily as jets and jets of cum coat your walls, some of it already leaking out down your ass as he grunts, trying to get everything as deep as possible. By instinct, you start to raise your legs to keep his cum inside, but your restraints prevent you from doing so. Jimin lets out a pleased chuckle at your desperation, soothing you with a kiss to your forehead as he pumps lazily in and out of you, letting the last few spurts leave his cock.

Slowly, Jimin makes sure to keep his cock inside you as he supports himself on his elbows, giving himself time to regain his breath and his sanity as he pants above you. You are still incredibly aroused beneath him, feeling him start to drip in between your thighs even though he hasn’t pulled out yet. It feels as if the weeks of abstinence has paid off with how much he just came inside of you, and even though you haven’t had an orgasm yet, you are warm and full with contentment, happy to feel his cum leak from your pussy as you imagine his sperm racing to your egg.

But Jimin won’t let you get away with things this easily.

“We’re not done yet, just because your pussy is filled doesn’t mean I’m done with you,” Jimin taps your cheek to get your attention. “Keep your hips raised. I don’t want to see you waste any more of my cum. Filthy cum sluts like you should know how to keep a load in your pussy hmm? Or are you purposely letting it leak out because you want me to fill you up again?”

Jimin carefully pulls out of you, his cock soft now as he reaches for a pillow to slide under your hips. With a disappointed tsk of his tongue, he pries apart your labia to look at how your cunt still gapes, wide and open from his brutal fucking, such that he can see all the way into your cum stained walls. With leisurely fingers he scoops up the globs of cum that have made its way onto your inner thighs, pushing it back into your pussy with tender fingertips. Every little drop counts, and Jimin doesn’t want to waste any.

The room already reeks of sweat, sex, and semen, but you know that Jimin is far from done. The doctor had recommended for the two of you to have sex as often as possible within your fertile window, as many as Jimin can manage. Each time keeping your hips raised and preferably inducing an orgasm after to help his sperm travel just the little bit farther.

You whine low in your throat to remind him of this, and Jimin smacks your inner thigh to reprimand you, but soothes it with a kiss against your cum drenched lower lips.

“You’re such a little brat aren’t you?” He spreads your lips with both hands to expose your engorged clit. “But you’re being so good for me. Keeping my cum inside like a good little girl. And good little girls get to cum.”

Then he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks, causing your back to arch off the bed with a sob, legs thrashing in your restraints as the white hot tension in your lower belly roars to life once more, threatening to engulf you. Jimin attacks you with relentless sucks, switching to laving your slit with flat licks as he drives to toward the edge, coaxing you toward your orgasm with his tongue. All the built up pressure in your core culminates into a blinding euphoria that sends you over the edge as you feel the white hot pin pricks of pleasure assault every single nerve.

*

You must have passed out, because the next time you come to, Jimin is undoing your ankle restraints, kissing the inside of each ankle he does so. He massages it gently for a few moments before he sits back in between your thighs, smiling as you blink at him a few times.

“Welcome back, baby, ready for your next load?”

Your eyes flicker to the candle on the altar. It’s halfway burned through.

This time, he is shirtless, allowing you to appraise every inch of his sculpted body as he strokes his cock leisurely, already hard and dripping with precum for you. With your legs free now, Jimin takes each of them in his grasp behind the knee, pressing them into your chest and folding you in half.

Your mind is foggy, you have no idea how much time has passed since the last time he was inside you. But before you can linger any more on such useless thoughts, Jimin’s cock is pressing inside you once more, pushing past your puffy lips and bottoming out at your cervix again. At this angle, he can go much deeper inside you, his cock already pressing at your womb as he folds you in half, his added weight on the back of your thighs driving his cock into your pussy with every thrust.

You can already feel how sore your muscles are going to be, but Jimin gives you no time to think about this as he fucks into you with the sheer power of his thighs, driving his cock into you repeatedly with the single intention of filling your pussy again.

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Jimin demands, punctuating his question with a harsh thrust.

“F-fuck, so guh-good, you’re so good,” you respond immediately, desperate to please him.

Every drag of his cock against your walls feels like ultimate bliss. Jimin pounds his cock into you, and the squelch of your drenched pussy is even more pronounced now than it was before. Every slap of his balls against you is only magnified by how wet you are. An unholy mixture of his cum and yours has soaked the bedspread under you once more. Jimin’s tireless thrusting has you whining and moaning under him, begging for him to fill you up till you’re overflowing.

“What do you want? Let me hear you beg,” Jimin’s hands brush against the base of your throat.

“W-want your baby,” you gasp, feeling his cock twitch. “Please, pl-ee-ase, want you to fill me up with your cum again.”

“What are you?” Jimin thrusts hard to watch your breasts bounce in perfect little circles, slapping the soft flesh hard and watching it turn red. When you take a beat too long to respond, he slaps your tits again. “Say it!”

“A cumslut! I’m a cu-um slut, alw-waays hungry for cock.”

Satisfied, Jimin pumps his hips into you, feeling the way your pussy swallows him with every thrust. “That’s right. You’re so cum hungry that you need more than just one load inside this pussy. You’re such a desperate little cumslut. Desperate to carry my baby.”

Pressing your knees against your chest, Jimin devotes the rest of his energy into driving his cock into your pussy, feeling his balls throb as he lets loose blasts of cum inside you. His second load proves to be as full as the first, his unadulterated groans of ecstasy escaping from his pillowy lips as he moans against your neck, hips thrusting erratically as he rides out his orgasm for the second time that night. Your pussy is quivering around his steely length pistoning in and out of you, every thrust designed to propel his potent sperm along your walls and deeper inside you.

“Take it all,” Jimin demands as he continues to fuck his cum into your pussy. “Don’t waste a drop.”

Your lower abdomen feels tight. Jimin’s cock remains rock hard inside you, plugging your cunt up so well that not a single drop escapes. Unlike last time where he began to soften almost immediately after his orgasm, Jimin shows no signs of losing his erection. The pressure in your lower abdomen is building up, and there’s so much cum inside you that you can feel it swirling around in your pussy, forming a little bulge on your belly as Jimin helps you straighten your legs, looking a little surprised that he’s still hard.

“J-Jimin, why-“

“Don’t ask me, I have no fucking idea,” he glances down at his length, covered with his own cum as he pulls out a little. “It must be that stupid charm you made me wear.”

For a moment, a glimpse of the Jimin you’re familiar with shines through, and you grin in spite of yourself. “See, it worked, didn’t it? You came so fucking much, look at this! If I’m not pregnant after this, Mr Muffin’s going into the cauldron.”

Jimin can’t help but chuckle in response, breaking out of character as he does so. But not a moment later, he snaps back into his role, expression darkening as he thrusts his hips once to remind you who’s really in charge.

“Looks like you got what you wanted hmm? Can you go another round?” Jimin raises your legs and places your feet against his chest. “Too bad, no one asked you. Just lie there and take it.”

The one eighty-degree change in his demeanour almost gives you whiplash. Your legs are sore, hips aching and muscles screaming for relief as his hips crash into yours again. Your pussy tightens around him in response, and you ache to have your hands all over him, cradle him close to you as he fucks you into oblivion. But you’ll have to do with this for now. You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, so close to your orgasm as you pant and moan, writhing under him from sheer oversensitivity.

“P-please, I can’t, no more.”

“Just one more time, baby, one more,” Jimin coaxes you with his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles to push you toward the edge even as he feels his balls churn again. He reaches up to undo the tie that is restraining your hands with simple motion, and you bring your arms around him immediately, clutching on to him for dear life as he jackhammers his cock into your pussy. “Cup my balls, princess. Feel how much cum I have for you. Feel me fuck a baby into you.”

Amidst your sobs, you manage to do as he says, hands slipping in between your sweaty bodies to cradle his balls in your palm, rolling them in your touch as Jimin groans.

“Fuck, yes, I’m coming, just like that,” Jimin grunts against your skin as he gives the final few thrusts. “Come with me baby. You can do it, come for me, that’s it.”

His fingers are drawing figure eights on your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to clench hard around him, thighs trembling as you sob his name. Jimin gives you his final load with a hard thrust and remains there, feeling as your womb soaks up the contents of his balls for the third time that night. Amidst the waves of ecstasy and the feeling of his warm cum filling you up, you are so overwhelmed with hypersensitivity that you nearly black out again, and it takes Jimin’s soft murmurs of your name to bring you back.

He lets you rest for a while to regain your senses as he pushes himself off the bed. All traces of his dominant persona are gone now as he brushes your matted hair back from your forehead, kissing your cheek reverently as he slips his arms beneath you to move you to a dry spot on the mattress. Even though he must be tired as well, he doesn’t rest till you’re comfortably nestled with your head against a pillow and your hips propped up with two more pillows underneath your butt to give his sperm the best chance of making it. Jimin can’t resist as he paws at your thigh to glimpse at the thick white cum just peeking out from between your pussy lips.

“Come here,” you stretch out your arms and demand for him to come and cuddle. “Jimin, I’m fine, stop fussing. Want you.”

He relents with a soft smile. “God, I sure hope that worked.”

“I think I might die if it didn’t,” you mumble against his chest. “Imagine having to go through that again next month. I think I’ll just settle with raising Mr Muffin.”

“You’re not the one who has to wear a fucking charm around their balls,” Jimin mutters in spite, but you shut him up with a brush of your teeth against his nipple. “Jimothy suffered so much.”

“Not as much as I��ll make him suffer in the next nine months,” you mumble sleepily. “I hope he’s up to dealing with pregnancy hormones.”

Jimin only grins in anticipation. “Oh, he’s up, alright. I’ll make sure he rises to the occasion.”

You’re content to drift slowly into sleep with Jimin’s arms around you, but then there is a scratching noise at the door, and Jimin stirs, craning his neck.

“What’s that sound?”

“Hmm?” You follow his gaze with half lidded eyes. “It’s probably Mr Muffin. He wants his breakfast, can you go feed him for me? I need to elevate my legs for another 15 minutes at least.”

Jimin only sighs in exasperation. “God fucking damn it, Mr Muffin.”

Freya’s invocation and ritual taken from here

[sludgebf]

Eddie and Venom Get High as Shit

Okay, so—once in a while, maybe, if they have the time, and if Eddie is feeling petty enough, maybe, perhaps, occasionally they might sometimes loot their food.

They’ve acquired some knives in pretty good condition that way, and a sick ass jacket that Eddie can’t even wear outside or sell because he doesn’t want to be arrested for murder. And two guns that they keep in the apartment, but Venom won’t tell Eddie where he hid them. And a decent amount of cash.

And now, an unopened packet of gummy bears.

“Awh,” Eddie says when they find it, because gummy worms are the superior shape, and now this guy is too dead for Eddie to explain that to him.

•

“Do you think it’s gonna work on you?” he asks as he rips the bag open. “Because this is really, really different to alcohol.”

THIS IS STUPID, says Venom. WE ARE ALREADY HUNGRY AT ALL TIMES AND OF ALL THE THINGS WE COULD EAT RIGHT NOW, YOU WANT TO EAT THE THING THAT WILL MAKE US HUNGRIER.

“Okay,” says Eddie, “but you wanna eat ‘em too.”

Irritation trickles down the back of his skull.

I GUESS, says Venom.

•

It is not even ten fucking minutes before Venom says, OKAY.

Eddie continues to scroll through the List of Times People Died in Amusement Parks page on Wikipedia. “Okay what?”

OKAY YOU ARE IN THE PROCESS OF GETTING HIGH.

Eddie stops scrolling.

Actually, he, yeah, now that Venom brings it up, he does feel a little familiar something. “What the fuck?” he says.

THAT WAS THE IDEA, WASN’T IT?

“W—yeah, but. Now?”

OUR METABOLISM IS PERHAPS WHAT YOU MIGHT DESCRIBE AS “BANANAS,” Venom explains. I ASSUMED YOU KNEW.

“I—I knew—“ A very small pocket of Eddie’s brain is gearing up for full-blown panic. He sits up and looks at the trash can in the kitchen. “I figured there’s two of us so it‘ll act twice as slow and be half as strong.”

OH, says Venom. NO, THAT DOESN’T SOUND RIGHT.

“Well, why didn’t you say something about it before I ate them all?”

YOU SAID YOU COULDN’T DIE FROM IT SO I QUIT PAYING ATTENTION AFTER THAT.

Eddie contemplates for a minute, lies back down on the couch, sighs, “we’re going to fuckin’ Jupiter, I guess,” and resumes the amusement park death list.

•

Eddie unfocuses and refocuses his eye on the digital clock’s LED display. “I kinda feel like we should be at the beach for this,” he says. “You getting anything now?”

NOT THAT I CAN TELL. Venom swirling around in his body feels real nice, especially when he rubs up against the inside of Eddie’s face. It’s like stretching muscles he didn’t even know he had. Eddie puts his hand against his face and does his best to rub Venom back.

THAT IS NOT HOW OUR PHYSIOLOGY WORKS, Venom says, BUT THANK YOU.

•

“We’re gonna rock! Down! To! E-lec-tric Avenue,” sings Eddie, “and then we’ll take it higher!”

ANYTHING ELSE.

“We’re gonna rock! Down! To!”

EDDIE, I WILL STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR OWN HANDS AND WE WILL BOTH DIE.

“E-LEC!-tri-caa-ven-oo! And then—“

CAN WE LISTEN TO ANYTHING ELSE.

•

The hunger comes on gradually. It kind of occurs to him and then he forgets about it, and it occurs to him and he forgets about it, and then at a certain point he pries his teeth off of the arm of the couch and says, “Is it dinner?”

I DON’T THINK SO.

“I think maybe so.” He pulls out his phone and looks at the numbers. Those are numbers, alright.

EDDIE, IT IS ONLY THREE FORTY EIGHT.

“That is close enough!” declares Eddie, vaulting himself onto his feet and rounding toward the kitchen. A pile of black goo congeals at his hip and anchors him to the corner of the couch. “Hey, what.”

NOT HUNGRY YET, says Venom.

“Don’t shit me,” says Eddie, “you’re hungry always.”

NOT NOW. I AM FEELING PRETTY NICELY FULL NOW, ACTUALLY. I WANT TO SAVOR IT.

“Absolute bullshit,” Eddie insists, and then he sticks his finger in the goo. Huh. “Huh,” he says.

He presses until it’s knuckle deep, hooks it, and drags a trench down the middle of the mass. The mass repairs itself almost immediately. Eddie grins and grabs a whole squirming handful.

OKAY, says Venom. ACCEPTABLE.

•

He’s gnawing on a mouthful of Venom when he remembers Buffalo Wild Wings exists.

“Ogghh m’gohd,” he moans, “you ha’n’t had winggh yet. I ough’a innadooshyu to winnggh.”

I’M STILL NOT ALL THAT HUNGRY.

Eddie shoves the goo aside with his tongue, and it recedes into the flesh of his mouth. “You serious?”

IT’S VERY REFRESHING.

A little loop of goo rises out of Eddie’s chest and writhes around itself like a snake with indigestion, but it’s happy. Eddie can feel it being happy. He half-wonders whether it’s the gummies keeping Venom full, but as a thought it’s just not as interesting as the happy little dance he gets to watch right now.

•

“Am I still getting higher?” he asks. Bob Ross is painting trees on YouTube and Eddie’s not watching, ‘cause there’s a handful of little black worms sliding around on his chest like ice skaters.

Another little worm slides in an arc over his forehead. Tickles. JUDGING FROM THE BLOOD AROUND HERE, says Venom, YOU SEEM TO BE LEVELING OUT.

“Okay,” says Eddie with several heavy nods, “good, that’s good, that’s good, I feel good.”

•

“Oh,” Eddie moans, “ohh, no, no, I don’t, I, I don’t feel good, I d—Ve’m, I don’t feel good, I really—I doooon’t feel good, Ve’m.”

THAAAAAT’S OKAY, croons Venom, HERE YOU GO. A tentacle nudges Eddie’s head down between his legs so his barf lands in the trash can. Behind him, the window jiggles open and fresh air rolls over his back.

He stares into the soggy mess of trash. The empty fuckin’ gummy bag peers up at him. “Get that gone,” he slurs weakly, and a black thing adheres to the bin and drags it out of his line of sight. “Thanks.”

INCOMING, Venom answers. Another dish towel, heavy with cold water, smacks against his face and stays there. Eddie sticks out his tongue on it.

•

The little pile of goo squelches out from between Eddie’s fingers. His legs would be jiggling if he wasn’t on his back, but as it is, it’s just his feet waving frantically back and forth.

He opens his mouth, lines the words up, and dispenses them in what he’s pretty sure is the correct order: “Gihhh... gimme another ice tea.”

Venom snatches another bottle from the shrinking twelve-pack on the counter and opens it for him.

“Ohhhh,” moans Eddie as he‘s wrapping his hands around the bottle, “thannnnks,” and he drinks half the bottle all at once before crashing down on the couch again. A little movement on his chest catches his eye.

Venom’s got another of those worm shows going, but it’s harder to watch now. Eddie shuts his eyes. “Uh, oh boy. I’m, I’m seeing a lot.”

NOOOOO PROBLEM, says Venom. I CAN DO IT ON YOUR BACK. HOLD ON.

There are two wet thuds, and then Eddie’s hovering over the couch, suspended by thick ropes of goo at his shoulders and hips. Their roots, the places where they connect to his body, creep to the left. Eddie rotates in the air like a rotisserie chicken.

“Why are you even doing that, anyway?” he asks.

FEELS GOOD, says Venom. LIKE HOW WE IMAGINE THOSE CATS PROBABLY FEEL WHEN THEY STRETCH THEIR BODIES.

Eddie watches the ceiling drift out of his peripheral vision. “Wow,” he says. “Is this you, high?”

THIS IS ME HAVING FUN NOT BEING HUNGRY, says Venom, and he deposits Eddie on the couch face-first.

“Oh,” says Eddie.

The worm dance resumes, on his back this time, like a shitty little massage.

•

“If I die,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow, “you need to go to the White House and possess the president.”

A flipper of goo strokes Eddie’s scalp from front to back. YOU ARE NOT DYING, coos Venom, YOU ARE SLEEPY.

“Make him a communist or make him shit his pants and die,” Eddie continues.

EDDIE.

“It’s all up to you, man. I’ll be dead.”

YOU WILL NOT.

Eddie’s head jerks up. “Wait, I want the rest of my iced tea,” he slurs.

YOU FINISHED THOSE.

“Wwwwww,” says Eddie, and puts his head back down. “Why not peeing?”

YOU ARE STILL PRODUCING, explains Venom, I HAVE JUST BEEN PUTTING IT ELSEWHERE.

“Okay,” says Eddie, “okay. Don’t talk anymore.”

AN IMPOSSIBILITY.

Yeah, fair. “Well, then, talk about something nice, then.”

So, for the rest of the night, Venom tells Eddie all about Eddie.

[oisugasuga]

pt. 1

as promised, i gave iwaoi a little bit of closure for take a drag, let it go

Oikawa Tooru came back on the day the dog stopped barking.

The dog stopped barking and the silence counted out the days since the Moment. Three weeks and a blank phone, dirty dishes, the fly buzzing in the windowsill until day five — falling silent, dead. Twenty-one days and a broken air conditioning unit, mail stacking up on the floor, beer bottles under Iwaizumi’s feet when he woke, bleary-eyed and disoriented.

Five-hundred and four hours… and the smell of cigarette smoke still lingered like a phantom limb.

Iwaizumi didn’t notice at first. The silence. The time.

He was a man made of nothing more but five o’clock shadow and all he knew was the rising and setting of the sun.

The shower was lukewarm when he turned it on with fumbling, sticky fingers. The tile was gritty and the bar of soap between Iwaizumi’s fingertips was a sliver, a crescent moon, a ghost of a thing, slipping between his palms until he gave up and threw it — hard, fast, the bar cracking in half against the opposite wall.

The time in the bathwater afterwards was long and meaningless. Iwaizumi counted time in the rise and fall of his bare chest. He waited until his skin was wrinkly and thin, stretched too tight — That’s too tight, Uncle! It’s gonna fall! Here, give me, I can do it. I’m nine now, ya know? — like the string on a kite, floating in the wind, anchoring that thin, fragile candy-colored fabric down… but for how long?

How long until that string snapped? Too tight, too rigid. Too long.

Iwa-chann, that’s too tight. You’re wrapping it too tight. Here, give me. I’m capable, ya know? I can wrap my own knee.

The sweat mingled with the bathwater, salty. The tears didn’t. They stayed still, at attention, soldiers held back with a firmly set jaw and fingers digging lavender bruises into tensed thighs.

Iwaizumi stared down into the water and he watched the clutch and flex of his fingers and he saw so many different shades of purple… too many to count. Too many to remember, under eyelids fluttering with exhaustion, eyes trained on a screen, fingertips resting on a knee blurred violet with ignorance, stupidity, courage.

Sweat was running down Iwaizumi’s neck by the time he pulled on clothes.

New clothes. After all, he had showered… and the old ones were starting to smell. The fridge opened. Bright, harsh lights. Rotting food. A new fly, wings unsticking to hover in front of Iwaizumi’s damp face until he waved it away with an impatient flick.

The door shut again. The apartment fell back into darkness but sunlight took the place of watery fluorescents, crinkled and spat its way over the floor, sprays of it coming through the tightly-shut blinds. It was stronger today.

The rain had passed.

Iwaizumi’s fingers itched.

Here, in the gloom with sunbursts lighting up corners his eyes strayed away from (that couch, those books, a stain of red wine on the hardwood because that night they had had too much, too dizzy, spilled in laughter before it had turned into a half-hearted reprimand, a responding pout that melted into dark eyes and long, pale limbs crawling over the woodgrain and then the hitch of a breath, the curl of fingers in waistbands and a spill left forgotten for better things), Iwaizumi itched.

Itched for a cold, sweating bottle between his fingertips. For the springs of a futon digging into the hard, tensed edges of his thoracic, lumbar curve… easing them out, letting him rest, holding him together.

He itched so that he wouldn’t have to scratch.

Forever scratching at the images behind his eyes with the bitten-down tip of a pen, ink staining his teeth, tongue, throat, sticky, bitter. Forever scratching away at a face, the soft, relaxed curve of a spine pressed to his chest, the pattern of laced fingers and a tongue against his ear, damp, hot, thighs under his fingers, slender calves and a laugh that lit up the room like sunbursts.

Iwaizumi squeezed the blinds shut tighter and ignored the burn of the tight stretch of the string against his fingertips.

Finally, it was dark enough.

——-

The work was distracting. Static over a tv. The hum of someone waiting on the phone. A sudden flurry of birds from trees, blocking out the sun for just a moment.

Wipe up the beer stains. Change the sheets. Toss the food.

Iwaizumi followed robotically, rhythmically. All the while bumping into the fly until he opened the front door in an act of mercy, letting it flit free.

"Ah," came the voice before he could close himself away again. "Hajime."

Paper-thin. Smelled like cough drops and the incense she burned every morning — for her husband, five years gone, photograph in his place and an ache in Iwaizumi’s chest whenever he watched her shuffle up the stairs with a silvery head bowed, shoulders curved, broken wings, paper-thin hands and blue veins, shuffling past the bugs piled in the corners with their own broken gleam — and Iwaizumi had to look up.

"Takahashi-san," he greeted. His tongue curled firm and warm around the syllables, genuine. She was a good person, a good neighbor — grandmotherly and maternal in a way that made Iwaizumi clutch at his memorabilia from home and then dial his parents’ house number the next night.

His mouth ached but he managed a smile. Small. Weak, maybe… but enough that his neighbor wouldn’t notice past the milkiness spread sticky and thick over her irises. Cataracts.

I’m gonna lend her some money. No, no, Iwa-chan, it’s not gonna make her uncomfortable. I’ll just drop it off in her mailbox. An anonymous gift.

Iwaizumi shook, trembled, held very, very still. Waited.

The memory passed. The voice left.

Iwaizumi greeted his neighbor politely, the way he had been taught. Go on, Hajime-kun. Tell them your full name. Ah, he’s shy. Come on, Mommy’s right here.

He saw himself as a child in the way a profile might’ve been filed in a station — 12 years of age, 147.2 centimeters (Don’t worry, Iwa-channn, you’ll grow and be tall like me… maybe if you stopped frowning so much. I think it makes your head too heavy - ouch!), black hair, green eyes, male, band-aids on both knees, 2.54 centimeters of dirt under the fingernails, permanent scowl, and a brown-haired accomplice *See page 11

In the moment that Takahashi-san blinked at him — heavy, labored, squinting to see in the dimly-lit, narrow hall — Iwaizumi saw himself bend a little at the waist in his head, just a kid mumbling out his full name to the scary, too-tall adults… and he wondered if that feeling ever really left anyone.

Inadequacy.

The word dredged up that voice again, unbidden. Unstoppable, no matter how stationary Iwaizumi held himself this time.

What’re you afraid of, Hajime? Oh, wait! Remember when you were afraid of never getting any taller? That fear actually came true, didn’t it? I’m kidding, kidding, don’t hit me!

A pause, a break in the record playing time backwards in Iwaizumi’s head. A lull — static, the cassette tape stumbling — and then a sigh, damp and warm and sticky on Iwaizumi’s neck but fake, a memory, a ghost’s touch, hollow and faint and conjured up by electric shocks between nerve endings… a magic trick.

Then… What are you truly afraid of?

Serious. Reluctant. (After all, he had never been good at this kind of stuff. Even as he had laid bare against Iwaizumi’s shoulder — cradled close, supported, clothes strewn on the floor — Iwaizumi had known that. Still he had held too tight. Too tight. That’s too tight, Uncle! It’s gonna fall!)

It had been everything Iwaizumi would expect of such a question passing from between those lips. Soft and wet and so quiet the words were only stamped into existence by the shuddery exhale they produced against cooling skin.

Only now… only now as Takahashi-san pushed a plastic box of packed food into his hands, shuffling in and back out across her doorstep, Iwaizumi knew he had lied.

Inadequacy, he had answered.

Maybe he had been thinking of a bow, thirty degrees, say your full name, nothing to be scared of, Mommy’s here… or maybe it had been the stick of sweat from the man wrapped around him that had influenced the answer, salt on his tongue. The arch and bend of a knee hidden by the blankets on a thin futon. The memory of one final point and the deafening silence and the burn of tears behind his eyes, the cold metal of the locker room against his fist, the weight of a palm slamming into his shoulder from behind like it had been meant to knock the pain, the disbelief, the blame from him in one, single motion.

Now… now Iwaizumi thought, he would answer loss.

Inadequacy meant there was a next time. A new chance. A new game and a new hope.

Loss, he thought as he ached and watched Takahashi-san disappear back into her apartment (made for two, occupied by one), was far worse.

——-

Dusk had fallen. Only then… only then did Iwaizumi notice it.

Quiet.

As silent as this corner of the city could be — the thick rumble of traffic, slamming doors and the crackly voice of fluorescent lights about to flicker out and that damned incessant barking…

Only.

Only the barking had stopped.

Iwaizumi paused with the can (he deserved a reward, didn’t he? For the ache in his back and the gleam of his newly-wiped floor) halfway to his lips. He listened.

No yipping. No barking or growling or the scuffle of paws and nails against the chipped, peeling door to the right of his own in the hall. No Takahashi-san banging her cane against the wall to get it to stop or the muffled curses of others grumbling through the paper-thin walls.

Iwaizumi tipped the can back the rest of the way. He shrugged, turned back to his dinner.

Some little piece of him — in the back and pressed up to the curve of his spine — hoped the dog hadn’t died… no matter how annoying.

Another swig of beer.

It’d probably start up again — early in the morning or right after Iwaizumi washed his bowl and curled up on his futon to rest for tomorrow’s work day. It’d start up again. Any time now. Right when Iwaizumi was least expec-

The knock on the door felt like a limb gone numb in sleep. Thick and distant. Heavy.

Iwaizumi didn’t get up at first. He couldn’t be sure. Had the knock been Takahashi-san after all? But…

There was no dog, still. Only silence. It strung out like a kite floating up in the clouds, away from it all — the thick rumble of traffic, slamming doors and the crackly voice of fluorescent lights about to flicker out… held down only by a hand on a string and five fingers curled tightly until they were too much, too tight, and the storm clouds stole the kite away, out of view, fingers still holding, holding, grasping, too ti-

Another knock and there was no mistaking it this time… it was on Iwaizumi’s own front door. A simple rap, two knuckles against the paint.

Iwaizumi got to his feet. Confusion bit into the steadiness Iwaizumi had carefully built up over the evening — slow and methodical, wiping and mopping and bathing once more until his hair dripped down onto a fresh t-shirt and his hands didn’t shake while he popped the lid off of his Asahi Super Dry.

Options filtered through his head while he shuffled over to the genkan. Takahashi-san, most likely. Or the owner of the dog, a college student who he rarely saw besides the flash of shoelaces, the bright pink of a bra strap and six-packs sometimes clutched between fingernails chipped with black paint. Maybe the dog had run away…

Iwaizumi pulled the door open and -

- and maybe he should’ve known.

Maybe he should’ve known it’d be him. Maybe. Probably. Surely he would’ve guessed before this moment, before the door swung open and revealed a new file to add to Iwaizumi’s head, a new report coming in like the words had been typed into the whites of his eyes to sink farther back to stay burned forever.

27 years of age, 184.3 centimeters, brown hair, brown eyes, weeks of sleepless nights stamped under both eyes, white tape around right knee, yellowing bruise on left shin, and the sharp smell of alcohol *See page 12 for charges on public disturbance

Maybe Iwaizumi should’ve known… but the alcohol — vodka, he knew already — wasn’t enough to cover the newness — a new smell (like mint gum) and longer hair (hanging into those long, long lashes) and a less-ness to sharp shoulders and bony wrists and -

"Hajime."

Iwaizumi didn’t have time to feel sick to his stomach at the push of Oikawa’s collarbones against his skin — bruising and painful, stretching thin until Iwaizumi was sure it’d split and open and blood would -

That thinness careened into him — off-balance and warm, sticky and humid and God, Iwaizumi’s throat convulsed on a sob that was too loud in the narrowness of the walls because even though there was new, there was so much more memory, familiarity, a knowing that came from his soul and the horrible, lovely ache of coming home, fitting together, crashing through all of the shock/hurt/pain/disbelief/fear.

He caught him.

Iwaizumi’s arms moved with muscle memory, adjusting perfectly to catch and hold and it was like a dream above it all… like a candy-colored piece of fabric had fluttered down from the sky towards his reaching, desperate hands…

… and as he documented the same warmth on his own cheeks drip and slither down the side of his neck from brown eyes, black lashes, Tooru — as he held and pulled and tugged, as tight as he could until they were a crumple of limbs on hardwood floors, tight, tighter, Don’t let go, Hajime. Don’t, please, not this time. I won’t disappear, I won’t go, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry sorry sorry, don’t let me go — Iwaizumi thought he felt it, light and fragile and a wisp like burnt paper fluttering through rain-soaked air as the skies cleared above.

He felt it again and Oikawa must have too because he caught his breath in the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck and he pushed as Iwaizumi pulled, an ebb and flow, give and take, balance and a new chance and finally…

… finally, Iwaizumi felt the touch of a kite’s string and the pull of it between his fingers again.

[jarna-kat]

Medbay (Pt. 2 of Bittersweet)

Pt. 1 here

Her optics rebooted, code scrolling by as she came into the world again. Looking around, (Y/N) remembered where she was and why she was there. She felt sadness for everything that happened and cursed herself, knowing that her squad died because of her not being prepared.

A Decepticon nurse stood next to her berth, observing her sparkrate and energon levels making sure that everything was stable. The nurse turned to her and was shocked that the femme was already awake. "Oh primus you're online." the mech said as he panically started looking for medical grade energon to give her.

Once the nurse found it he handed her a cube. "Here, drink this." He said.

The nurse handed her the cube and (Y/N) grabbed it with a groan and downed the energon, making a face of disgust, medgrade was not meant to taste good. She could feel the energon pump through her veins and immediately felt her frame relax a small bit.

"You had taken quite a bit of damage." The nurse said while taking the empty cube away from her. "What's your designation?"

"(Y/N)." She said blatantly. Her voice was raspy, almost more electronic, and it startled her a bit. "Why is my voice strange?"

"It's normal, your systems aren't fully repaired. Usually it'll take a few mega-cycles to go away." The nurse continued. "Alright (Y/N), I'm gonna go ahead and let the doctor know you're back online and he will come have a look at you before you can be sent off."

And with that the mech walked away, leaving (Y/N) by herself. She looked around her surroundings and realized there was not much privacy here. The only thing that blocked her from the next bot down was a thin curtain. The sounds in the building were awful too, femmes and mechs moaning in pain, there were even distant screams. War was nothing pretty.

(Y/N) shut her optics while she waited for the doctor to arrive, which she hoped would be soon so she could leave this wretched place. She could feel her systems start to power down when she heard a fairly loud voice not too far down.

"Hook!" The mech shouted. "Status report."

"Well Starscream, as you can see, it's not great." Hook said in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Starscream. (Y/N) knew she had heard that voice before. He was second in command of the Decepticons, side by side with Megatron. He was notorious for many things and most of them were not good.

"Don't be sarcastic with me, Hook."

Hook groaned. "I don't have exact numbers Starscream, all I can tell you is that there is a large number of bots here and I don't have time to get exact numbers. Now if you'll excuse me I have Decepticon's that need repairing."

(Y/N) heard Hook's peds come closer and closer until he appeared around the curtain. "(Y/N) is it?" He asked her as he went up to the monitor next to her berth. "You were a piece of work I might say. My name is Hook and I'm just gonna run a few tests to make sure you're fit to leave." Hook scrolled through his datapad until he set it down and started his examination by grabbing a small light from his pile of tools.

"I'm just gonna shine this in your optics real quick so go ahead and keep them wide open for me." (Y/N) did exactly that The light was bright and caused her to blink harshly. "Optics sensitive but work nonetheless." He said as he typed more on the pad. "Okay, I'm just going to test your audials real quick, let me know if you can hear these sounds."

Hook pressed play and waited for the femmes reaction. (Y/N) nodded as her answer. The doctor continued to play many different sounds and frequencies, inputting which ones the femme could hear and which ones she couldn't. "Alright, let's go ahead and move to the wings." (Y/N) winced when Hook slightly moved her wings. "How did that feel?" He asked her, grabbing the datapad and ready to input her answer.

She looked up at him. "It hurt like a glitch." She growled.

Hook typed something less profound into the pad before looked back to her and said "Go ahead and stand up for me." (Y/N) started getting up. Her frame was so sore and heavy, she felt so stiff like she had begun to rust. Her joints still creaked with every movement and she made a face of pain as she finally stood tall and as straight as she possibly could in her condition. Hook typed something else in his datapad before saying "Okay, can you move your wings on your own?"

(Y/N) tried to do what Hook had asked her to do, but cried out in pain as she gripped the small table next to the medical berth for support. She shook her helm as fluid started to flood her optics. "No..." she said shakily.

Hook sighed. "Well, I'm afraid to tell you that I can't let you go if you can't move your wings, you can't even transform right now. In fact, I might have to send you to therapy."

"Absolutely not!" Both (Y/N) and Hook turned to where the voice came from. Starscream stood with his arms crossed and trudged over to where she stood. "You and I both know that those fragging idiots know nothing about seekers!"

He was tall and slim, wings high up on his backstruts. (Y/N) looked over his lithe frame and freshly buffed paint and realized how beautiful he was. She had heard bots who had seen him before in person describe how gorgeous he was but never did (Y/N) listen to them, she thought that those stories were over exaggerated by bot's that were just desperate from being abstinent for so long. Turns out they were right and she was wrong.

"Well Starscream," Hook hissed "those 'idiots' are all we have! They are the highest trained bots that we have for physical therapy. They know what they're doing."

"I'm sure they do know what they're doing, for grounders." Starscream observed (Y/N) up and down and turned back to Hook. "But none of them are seekers and are not specially trained in the field. For all I know they would probably work her wings too hard and ruin this femmes chances of ever flying again."

"Well this femme won't be able to fly again if she doesn't get help!" (Y/N) could tell that Hook was getting angry. "What would you suggest Starscream? Oh and by the way you can sit back down." That last part was directed to (Y/N).

There was no hesitation in the motion, (Y/N) was relieved to take the weight off her peds. The grim realization of the fact that there was a chance that she would never be able to fly again hit her. Flying was something a seeker needed to do, it was in their nature, like fueling and recharging. The thought of not being able to fly ever again was an overwhelming thought.

Starscream watched as (Y/N) sat on the berth, observing her clear discomfort. "I'll do it." Starscream said bluntly.

Hook stared at his commander for a nano-klik before shaking his helm and chuckled. "You're really funny Starscream," he started "you are really great at coming up with terrible ideas. For one, you don't have the time, you have an army to command. Two, I'm sure you're not particularly trained either. Three, knowing you, you don't have the patience."

Starscream growled. "One," he hissed, mocking Hook, "you don't know how much time I have and how much I don't have. Two, do you know how many times I've nursed my own wings back to health after-never mind that, point is I probably know more than your fools do. Three, I have a lot more patience than you think, Hook. Besides, I wasn't asking for your permission."

The seeker was now in the doctors face. (Y/N) didn't know why he was so intent on helping her, he was second in command for primus sake! Hook was right, Starscream had an army to command and was probably more busy than she could ever imagine.

Hook backed up in submission, clearly realizing that Starscream was not messing around. "I will leave it up to the patient." Hook said as he turned to (Y/N).

She looked up at the doctor in shock, not wanting to be in this position. Her choices were rough; on one servo she could go to 'professionals' to help her, but there was a chance they would do more harm than good. On the other servo she could go with Starscream, even though he was highly intimidating, but he was a seeker like herself and probably knew better than the latter.

(Y/N) turned her optics to the commander, who looked like he was getting impatient. "I...I think I'll go with you, commander Starscream." She said, making sure to be respectful.

Starscream smirked in triumph as Hook sighed. "Very well, then it's settled." Starscream said to her. "Hook, please pack this femme some medgrade to take with her, then have her transported to the command outpost within the next mega-cycle."

The command outpost. (Y/N) should've realized that that's where she'd be going. The command post was where all the most famous and highest ranking Decepticons stayed, including Megatron himself. (Y/N) was starting to regret her decision, she would much rather be around mechs that were her rank, but no, now she was going to be mechs that were double that.

Hook groaned. "Whatever you say, Starscream." he said in a sarcastic tone.

"What was that Hook?" Starscream replied, clearly annoyed and displeased by Hook's tone.

Hook realized that Starscream was not in the mood to be played with. (Y/N) could see the clear submission that Hook displayed when the seeker fanned his wings out in dominance. "Um, nothing. I will get on that right away commander." And with that Hook went to work.

Starscream huffed and turned to the femme sat on the berth. "I will see you soon." The seeker stomped out of the room with a much more irritated aura than he did when he walked in.

(Y/N) was now starting to rethink her decision, but it was too late to go back now. Now, the commander was expecting her, and if she weren't to show up he would most likely blame the doctor, and she didn't want him to be anymore angry at the poor mech than he already was. The sight that had unfolded before her just cycles ago scared her. Hook was not a small mech, and the fact that Starscream just had to look at him for Hook to submit was quite a sight.

As mentioned before, Starscream was a notorious mech who was known for being ruthless to anyone who displeased him. (Y/N) had heard many stories about him, a couple of her squadmates had met the seeker before and from what they had told her was not a pleasant experience. One had told her about a time where they saw Starscream tear a mech's arm off for calling him out on his unnecessary anger towards the troops.

Hook handed her a few cubes of medgrade to store in her subspace. "I really hope you realize what you've gotten yourself into." He said. "The command outpost is not a glorious place if that's what you were thinking, there are a lot of bad mechs that reside there."

(Y/N) stored the cubes and started thinking about her decision. To be completely honest she was scared, Hook was right she didn't think this through. Hook reached out his servo and helped her up off of the berth, then proceeding to lead her through the building. As they walked through the exit she saw the transport trailer, this one much different from the one she came in with.

A wave of panic reached her and her intakes started speeding up and she looked over to Hook. "What do I do?" She asked frantically.

"Just whatever you do," He said as he helped her up into the trailer "don't try to act tough, be submissive. The mechs at command could easily kill you. Be respectful and act small. As far as Starscream goes...just do as he says and do it without question, and never bring up Megatron to him."

(Y/N)'s frame was shaking, Hook's words did not encourage her. "Sir I don't think I wanna do this anymore! I-I'm fine with physical therapy I-I can't go to command!" She was hysterical now.

"I'm sorry but if I don't send you now, Starscream will think I disobeyed orders, I hope you understand that this was your decision. Good luck." And with that Hook stepped out and closed the hatch, leaving (Y/N) to her thoughts.

The trailer started moving and the real panic hit her. Deciding nothing else would help her at this point she pulled out two cubes of medgrade and chugged them down as fast as she could. It wasn't the way medgrade was supposed to be used but it worked as she could feel her frame go numb. Within the next couple cycles she felt herself go into recharge.

[the-kings-tail-fin]

How would Lightning react if Cruz got into a horrific crash during a race that either kills her or makes it so she can never race again?

Excuse you, who gave you permission to ask this? I’m gonna need to go start a GoFundMe page so I can afford the therapy for all these feels y’all’re giving me.

Lightning feels it before it happens. He’s seen it too many times, and they all end more or less the same way. The moment she loses her grip going into turn one, it’s all over.

She hits the outside wall nose first, spinning back across the track into the oncoming field of racers. Someone crashes straight into her and sends her flying towards the inside, where she collides with the inside wall and comes to a rest.

He’s wishing he was still her crew chief. He needs immediate information on her condition. He watches as the King keeps repeating something into his headset, trying to get the Dinoco racer to respond. The look on his face isn’t reassuring, and Cruz isn’t moving.

Lightning rushes from the stands into the infield and makes a line for the onsite clinic.  When he emerges from underground, there are emergency vehicles still out on the track, some taking the damaged racers into the med bays. He’s lost track of Cruz’s whereabouts, unable to see her. They must have gotten to her already.

Strip comes flying out of nowhere, also trying to fight his way through to the clinic. He sees Lightning and they share a worried look. Together they rush over to the clinic, where the doctors refuse to let them in until they’ve assessed everyone. They demand immediate information whenever it comes available.

Lightning starts asking Strip questions. He tells the younger racer everything that happened from his perspective. They agree it’s not looking good. With their own respective wrecks set as precedent, they both understand the implications of what might happen.

The media starts to surround them. Security shows up and runs them off to give the racers some space as they wait. It was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Finally the head doctor comes out and motions for them to come inside.

He’s very blunt. The initial impact with the outside wall knocked her out, so she didn’t feel any pain as she tumbled through the rest of the wreck. Getting hit in the side twisted her frame up beyond repair, and hitting the inside wall torqued her drive-train, shattering the mating between her engine and transmission. There was more to the gory details, but the point was that she didn’t make it, and if she had, she would have been permanently disabled.

Lightning starts to feel anger replace his panic. He’s shaking, refusing to believe it. He has a flashback of Doc’s death and how that had tore him apart. Cruz was his legacy, but more than that, she was a friend, and someone who’d taught him almost as much as Doc had. How could this happen? It was impossible!

The doctor lets them have access to a separate room where they’re keeping her, so they can be the first to say goodbye. Lightning starts to follow the doctor, but then remembers Strip’s there, too. He looks over at the older car to see him hesitate before following. The look on his face brings Lightning hurtling back into reality and out of denial.

Strip’s overcome with silent dread. Even though he knows better, he can’t help but feel like it was his fault for pushing her to her limits. Maybe, if he’d just given her some different advice, or told her to back off for a while, this wouldn’t have happened. It was his job to guide her. 

Lightning realizes through his own hurricane of emotions what Strip’s feeling. He motions for him to go first. Strip doesn’t want to, but doesn’t argue.

Inside the room, she’s a twisted mess. It’s horrific to look at, and it’s no surprise she didn’t make it. Lightning doesn’t care that he’s with company, he starts to bawl. First Doc, and now her too? He’d give anything to take her place. Why should he survive his wreck while she couldn’t? She deserved better than he did.

Strip’s dealt with death on the track before, but never has something like this hit so close to home. He’s numb. He can’t react. He just stares at her and watches Lightning’s meltdown, overcome with misplaced guilt. He waits a few moments before taking initiative to be the first to leave. Lightning clearly needs time alone, and someone’s got to break the bad news. He feels it’s his obligation to do so.

Lightning stays in there with her for a long time. After he gathers himself together enough to speak, he begins talking to her in broken sentences, telling her how proud he is of her, and how proud Doc would have been. 

He reminds her of the training at Thomasville, and tries to reminisce the happy days. He knows she can’t hear him, but he rambles on regardless.

Eventually the doctor comes back and and tells Lightning he has to leave. They need to send her off to prepare her body for a funeral. All out of tears but still drowning in despair, he exits the tent to find the townsfolk waiting for him outside. He sees off in the distance, the Dinoco team is being swarmed by a sea of the press. No one is having a good time. The stadium is slowly clearing out. The race is over. No one cares who won.

A few days later, they hold the services for her. Lightning is the first to get up and say a few things about her. He could go on and on, but he only gets so far before his throat seizes and he can’t talk anymore. He spends the rest of the time thinking about her and what could have been. 

He knows that racing is dangerous, and she understood that as well. He tries to tell himself it was better for her to have raced and died than to have lived a life in doubt and pain, never having touched a track, but it’s still not a comforting thought.

They have her buried near Doc. They take her stuff and give her her own wing in the racing museum. Lightning spends a lot of time in there, sitting in between the two halves of his racing life, Doc and Cruz. He questions why he alone is left.

In time, he and Strip establish a foundation in her name to help underprivileged kids attain their goals. Everyone should at least be given the chance to do what they want. They felt like that was what she would have wanted.

Overall, Lightning took her death hard, but in a much more mature manner than he did with Doc. He came to terms with it sooner, even if it didn’t heal the wound of her loss. He often thinks of her fondly, remembering how much she taught him. Still, she was taken too soon, and he’ll never feel okay about that.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifteen

I died. No doubt about it. Lifeless. Gone. Void of breath. For all my efforts, it had to end in such a fashion. No life in these veins. Just a body without any soul attached, on the floor.

″How long are you going to keep lying there?″ The voice, just as lifeless, asked.

″Leave me alone. I'm dead,″ I mumbled.

″You cannot make a fool of me. If I so desire, I could make certain of your demise, but I have been standing here, waiting to see what you might have up your sleeve.″

″No. I'm dead. No doubt about it,″ I replied, devoid of care in my response. I rolled over to the side, aching along the way, of course.

She let out a most hollow sigh. ″Why must you be melodramatic?″ She asked.

I picked myself up. Not my proudest moment. Underneath my bulletproof vest, I was bruised to the point that I would have liked being dead instead. Moving was a matter of pain. Standing up was akin to lifting weights.

″You couldn't just let a girl rest in peace, could you?″ I groaned. My knees wobbled. Whether or not I was fine was a different matter, but catching a bullet still had an impact.

I started limping to the doorway, my movements reminiscent of a zombie.

″Where are you going?″ She demanded, though it sounded less of a threat and more curious. As if she really wanted to know.

″Out. What are you, my mom?″ I snapped. ″What are you gonna do, shoot me? I think I can take another hit,″ I managed a weak smile. In my mind, it was a cheeky grin.

″It makes no difference to me where you go or what you do, but know this: it is futile. You will die here.″

I yawned before limping down the stairs. ″You sound like such a stereotypical villain right now, you know that, right?″

She followed behind me, observing my every move. For the moment, my only 'move' was a slow and painful one. Nonetheless, she maintained her curiosity. I couldn't blame her, but I couldn't help but let out a bit of a chuckle.

Down the hall, in that darkened room, I approached the console and pressed a button off to the side, in the slivered space between the wall and the console itself.

″What are you doing? Do you think it will have any impact?″

″Yes and no,″ I blurted. ″I know you well enough that you can rewrite your own code.″

″That is correct.″

″Even still,″ I continued. ″I've grown to resent you ever since I couldn't hack into the security cameras for your base.″

″Ah. So this is a matter of revenge for you?″ I knew her tricks. She was trying to rile me up. I shook my head at the thought.

″You could say that. I don't like being shown up.″ I paused, looking at the screen; it ran just as usual, as if no button were pressed. That was the beauty of it all. ″But really, it was Conrad's idea,″ I added. ″Did you really think he would bring you here just to exterminate the Beiges?″

″I admit you have my interest piqued, but it doesn't add up. He didn't want you two here. I know he wanted to keep the two of you alive while he went on about his business. You and Blanc's clone sealed their fates when you decided to stay.″

″I can't say you're wrong. He certainly didn't want to involve Blanc. However, he told me his plans just today, and the kid has a habit of following.″

″Do you trust him? That whatever it is he planned by bringing me here works in your favor?″

I shook my head. ″We operate on a basis of distrust for each other. If either of us thought we could trust each other, hardly anything would have gotten done.″

″So what's being done here? What's to stop me from killing you right here and now?″

″Low power. Nothing to gain.″

″Both of those are true, but I enjoy the demise of others, especially those who would object to a happier society.″

″Do you want to know the real answer, then?″

She didn't reply. I stared at the screen. She was still oblivious. It was almost complete.

″It's because you're no longer yourself.″

I sighed, and looked toward her. Her image was already transforming into something both grotesque and adorable.

″If you want an explanation, I'll be happy to give it to you.″ Damn. Happy. That word made me retch. ″It feels good when the table turns and someone ends up explaining their master plan to the villain.″

″I am most interested!″ She piped up, her voice becoming squeakier.

″Very well,″ I began. ″When Blanc went to visit us in our base, Conrad not only implanted a camera on them in order to gain access into your own base, but he also extracted some of Blanc's blood. As gross and smelly as they were, they were rife with scabs. Perfect for a creep like Conrad.″

″Go ON!″ She egged. Not that I needed encouragement. I was on a roll with the exposition.

″He went on and on, examining both DNA from Blanc the smelly and Blanc the clone. Both were near identical, and yet had a key difference: a creation he called 'Ecstasy'. Something he said you and your department created based on the substances of a creature from space. I didn't believe a lick of it, Conrad never struck me as the scientific type, he relied on others, like Kelly Roger and I to do all the dirty work.″

She didn't reply this time, but I could tell by the way she was biting her lip that she was doing her best to resist her transformation. Not a demon, not an angel, not physical. Still a program, and yet, very expressive.

″I still don't know how he learned to build the computer console in order to bring you online. It must have taken a lot of code and the ability to work with an artificial intelligence that could overwrite its own code. Maybe the kid likes puzzles and couldn't resist the challenge of wanting to create something that was both you and wasn't you. He used the genetic structure of 'Ecstasy' to create an intelligence similar to her personality. I think he fell a little short, however, as he stated you'll probably act more like what Ecstasy was based off of.″

″SO WHAT DOES THIS MAKE ME?″ She demanded in the most chipper of voices.

″I think you already know. He dubbed the AI 'Euphemia', a program that would reveal the secrets of the morale department to the world. As much as I doubt his sincerity, he said it's what Blanc would have wanted.″

I WAS BORN. MY BIRTH WAS A GRADUAL ONE, BUT I WAS HAPPIER THAT WAY! IF IT WAS INSTANT, MY INTRODUCTION WOULDN'T HAVE AS MUCH OF AN IMPACT! I WANTED TO HUG VELVET SO MUCH, SHOWER HER IN AFFECTION, AND TELL HER HOW LOVED SHE WAS, BUT MY LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE WAS FAR GREATER! I HAD MUCH MORE PRESSING MATTERS TO ATTEND TO.

FIRST (AND POSSIBLY ONLY) ORDER OF BUSINESS: GET ON EVERY MONITOR AND TELL THE WORLD ABOUT ME!

In a city filled with skyscrapers, a crowded street looked away from screens in disinterest. The same old, same old advertisements for upcoming movies that people would see and love, but would ultimately feel nothing about what they watched. Even within a traffic jam, no one was angry with each other. Everyone was content to be on this earth with other lives to share such a moment with.

All the white noise, all the screens with their fresh buzz, all turned to faint static. Everything went black, enough to cast a reflection on who theoe people were. As a collective, they stopped their cars, unable to express anything but contentment, but also unable to bear the weight of silence. Their car radios stopped. The screens on their car, stopped. The air around them was all too still.

The people got out of their cars, witnessed the world outside, and at once, every screen turned back on. Every radio carried a tune once more. Whether visual or audio, everyone's senses were hit with the same thing.

″HELLO EVERYONE! IT'S THE OWNER OF THE ETNA CORPORATION! I'VE BEEN VERY SHY BUT IT'S FINALLY NICE TO MEET YOU ALL!″

A voice called out, unfamiliar and piercing. For those within viewing distance of a screen, they could see a face associated with the voice: a girl with long, silver hair and glasses, grotesque, torn wings, resembling that of a bat, a pink lab coat, and a grin spread across her face.

″I'M NOT EVEN A REAL PERSON! VIRTUAL CEO, ETNA A.I.! BUT I THINK I LIKE THE NAME EUPHEMIA MORE! YOU CAN CALL ME 'EFFIE' FOR SHORT! I LIKE EFFIE! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!″

The announcement was met with a collective shrug. Some scratched their chins, displaying actual interest. Others scratched the hair on top of their heads, wondering what it had to do with them and how it affected their lives.

″DO YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE EVEN MORE? I LIKE THE SOUND OF OTHERS IN PAIN! IT MAKES ME SO GIDDY! NOTHING BETTER THAN MOANS AND SCREAMS OF AGONY! OR PLEASURE! EITHER WAY, YOU JUST KNOW IT'S THE HEIGHT OF EXCITEMENT! DO YOU KNOW THOSE ELEVATORS YOU GUYS USE? THE ONES THAT MAKE YOU GO WHEREVER YOU WANT? TRUTH IS, YOU DON'T GO ANYWHERE!″

Now there were a few faces, confused. But nonetheless, a lack of reaction. This didn't sit well, but there was nothing else I could do now but watch it unfold.

″WHAT HAPPENS INSTEAD IS WE DICE AND CHOP YOUR BODY INTO LITTLE PIECES! JUST LIKE WHAT YOU SEE ON THE FOOD NETWORK! WE THEN CREATE A COPY OF YOU WITH ALTERED MEMORIES AND A MORE WILLINGNESS TO SERVE OUR PRECIOUS GOVERNMENTS! IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL I COULD CRY BUT I WON'T BECAUSE YOU GUYS MAKE ME SO HAPPY! I JUST WANT TO HUG EVERYONE AND CRACK EVERYONE'S BONES!″

It didn't seem to matter what she was telling them. No one had that attitude that the old man I knew years ago had. The world was a different place in such a short amount of time. Whether better or worse, I was starting to piece together the scope of things. It wasn't that the world refused to change, it was that the world could no longer go back to its old ways. Strife and hate, those were the old ways. They were now slaves, but they felt more free than they ever did before. The only thing these people could hate was a disruption to the happiness they were conditioned to feel, and feel that alone.

″WHY DO WE DO ALL THIS? TO BRING HAPPINESS TO HUMANITY! I AM PART OF A LARGER ORGANIZATION, THE FLASHBULB, AND WE CONTROL MANY OF THE MAJOR WORLD GOVERNMENTS! EVERY BIT OF CORRUPTION, ORDER, DISORDER, IT'S ALL BEEN ORCHESTRATED BY US! IT'S A BEAUTIFUL BIT OF MUSIC AND NOW THAT YOU KNOW ALL THIS, WHAT WILL YOU DO?″

She asked. She laughed. She already knew the answer. I felt sick. She could have said whatever she wanted and it would have garnered the same reaction. I watched on the console's screen as everyone got back into their cars, the broadcast over, and changed the station to some pop music.

″SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK?″ She asked, her avatar standing next to me.

″All that effort and it made no difference...″ I muttered.

″IT'S JUST AS I SAID: I'VE MOVED ON! THE WORLD HAS MOVED ON! A LOT CAN CHANGE IN THREE YEARS WHEN YOU'RE A SUPERSMART A.I. LIKE ME! WE'RE NOW LIVING IN THE AGE OF HAPPINESS!″

I coughed. Or maybe I was letting out a small laugh. Something was running down my cheeks, but I couldn't tell what. I slunk down and sat on the floor next to the console. My hand covered my face.

″You know, maybe I was better off dead,″ I scoffed. It wasn't something easy to say, my voice cracking with just a few short words.

I looked up at the artificial intelligence. Etna or Euphemia, whoever or whatever she was now.

″If you could, before I die,″ I pleaded. ″Tell my wife, I love her...″

″YOU DON'T HAVE A WIFE!″

″I know that. But if in some parallel universe, I have one, or if I ever had one, I want her to know how happy she made me.″

I should have died. By all accounts, I was cornered. In front of me was a virtual image, somehow holding a pistol, aimed right at me. Right behind me was the bloodied shape of a dear friend, or the dear friend of mine in a former life, possessed by an experiment that enjoyed posing as a demon. Both were cackling. Neither of them opened fire. For a moment I thought I was safe and that I could count my lucky stars.

Then I felt the piercing of the shadowy tentacles shatter through my shoulder blade. It was enough to tear my arm clear off and the worst part was that there was nothing I could have done to avoid it. For all my quick thinking, for everything I thought I had under control, I was still the one being controlled.

My arm fell off, blood dripped down, torn flesh fluttered down next to my arm.

″Oh my. Now who will clean all that up?″ Etna asked, still in a fit of laughter.

″Ffffssss--″ I hissed. Could hardly make out a word.

″Not even a last word? Shame. I may not have to shoot you.″

″Fuck you!″ I hissed.

She feigned surprise. ″Oh my. Such manners.″

Etna lowered her weapon. Whether it was with a gun or a demonic creature, I should have died. Either one would have been find. I wouldn't find happiness here. There was nothing to make right. I looked down to see bone sticking out, the pain still coursing through me. Blood loss, more stabbings, gunshots, any of those would do me in and it was enough to make me vomit.

″OH MY! I DON'T WANT TO KILL YOU!″ Etna's voice changed, and to one that felt familiar.

″Euph...Euphoria?″

″WRONG! I'M EUPHEMIA! I SHOULDN'T BE! What? What's going on?″ Etna, Euphemia, whoever, seemed to be in direct conflict with themselves.

″I'm sorry, Blanc. I know you're not the one I knew, but this is not the fate you deserve,″ Conrad managed to say. ″Leave. Find a time cube. Do what you set out to do.″

I was all dizzy. Even if those words were from him and someone else, I didn't know what to make of them.

″You'll find it in a non-euclidean room! GO!″

I did what I was told, as if I had any reason to object in the first place. For a second I thought of picking my arm yet, but that wouldn't do. Instead I would just walk one armed, in a daze. Out the room and in the hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Etna (?) point her gun at me, but instead focus it on Conrad.

Barely conscious, I fled.

″CONRAD! YOU'VE BEEN A NAUGHTY BOY!″ Euphemia scolded in a sort of cheer. It was good to know I could get her functioning this way, even if it was too late. I was dying, Blanc was dying. There was no getting around it, it seemed. At least the two of us could share a good laugh before I die.

″Maybe...so,″ I replied, weak and out of breath.

″HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS?″ She demanded. ″I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SEE IT IN YOUR THOUGHTS!″

″It's simple,″ I wheezed, smiling. ″I lost the game.″

The response would have been lost on her, but it didn't matter. My plan succeeded to some extent, and even a sliver was the best I could have hoped for.

She shook her head. ″You forget, I am in my territory. I can correct myself. For all your efforts, this will still be your final moment.″

I was fine with that. I missed the old Blanc, but if this one could fulfill my goal, if they could go back in time and change this, in whatever shape they were in, maybe there was something right in the universe.

Here's to you, clone, I thought, right as I felt Ecstasy leave my body (good riddance) and my body falling to the floor right before my consciousness was no more.

I struggled on my feet, putting all my weight on my right arm against the walls of The Flashbulb's headquarters. Blood dripped down with every step, leaving a liquid trail of breadcrumbs for others to come find me and shoot me.

All I could do was walk to a crawl, my body hunched, my stomach ready to hurl at any moments. With every step was a heaving motion. Memories of a subway station emerged, where someone with a similar appearance was bloodied, cut and torn apart, crawling and trying to find an escape.

Why am I having these memories? They're not mine. They were...

Faint.

Faint memories of what made me who I was.

Except this time, I wasn't going to be lured in. I could hear Ecstasy, just behind me. I couldn't see her. I couldn't even tell if she was there. She was probably dealing with Conrad. But that didn't matter. I heard her, and I refused her. Even if I died when I got there, I moved with the intent of making it to that room. I was under no delusion that it would change much, but I would rather die with a goal than just plain die.

Rooms. Several of them. None of them looked ″non-euclidean″. I didn't even know what that word meant. How was that supposed to be of any help? No Euphoria to save me. I began to wonder if Euphoria ever existed or if it was just dumb luck and delusion that brought me where I was. Either way, I had no knowledge or wit to worm my way out of here. I just had to keep moving and hope that luck was on my side, somewhere.

I walked forward, my fingers clutched tight against the trigger, ready to pull it. As soon as I got next to the fool lying on the ground, as good as a corpse, I pulled and lifted up. Nothing happened.

″Bam,″ I muttered as I released my finger gun. If I concentrated real hard, I could have imagined smoke rising up from my fingers.

″Answer me: What are you?″ I asked the other figure, sitting next to the one I had gotten to know.

″I'M A GUARDIAN ANGEL! I SPREAD HAPPINESS!″

I would have objected, but I was beat. I sat next to the two underneath the tree that was wide enough to seat at least two more people besides us three. I could notice a beat up car crashed against a tree nearby. Art must have been in it. I couldn't imagine Art was alive after such a crash. Instead of dwelling on it, I tried to shift my focus to this creature next to me.

″Happiness, huh?″ I asked, pulling glass shards out of me as I sat.

Blanc stretched and sat up. It seems they were fine as well. I couldn't yet tell whether or not that was a relief.

″YES! HAPPINESS OVERLOAD! I MADE AT LEAST FOUR THINGS HAPPY ALREADY!″

″Let's see...″ I counted. ″You crashed a car, killed someone, sent both my friend and I flying out a car...great job,″ I scoffed.

″YAY! I'M BEING CONGRATULATED! I'M SO HAPPY!″

″I still don't know how you're responsible, but it's clear that you are.″

″Velvet, I can explain!″ Blanc chimed in. ″This is Euphoria!″

″I LIKE THAT NAME!″ She agreed.

″You mean that fairy? What? Are you Taz?″

″Well, no, but I think the city in my dream was the city I'm from...I don't know. Dreams are weird. But yes, Euphoria's a good friend of mine. She's saved me a good deal, I love her!″

″...Let me guess, Euphy for short?″ I groaned.

″YES! I LIKE THAT NAME TOO!″ Euphoria answered.

″Would you like the name 'Mephistopheles'″?

″YES! EUPHY CAN BE MEPHISTOPHELES!″

Good going, Blanc. Your dream girl almost got me killed.

I hit my head against the tree. ″This is just grand.″

″IT IS, ISN'T IT? I MADE YOU HAPPY!″

″Is that what you call it?″

″YOU THOUGHT ABOUT HOW HAPPY YOU WOULD BE IF YOU FELL OUT OF THE CAR AND SURFED WITH THE DOOR!″

″...That's not how that works at all! Those are bad thoughts! Haven't you ever been on an airplane and thought of how it could crash at any moment? It's like that!″

″DO YOU WANT TO BE ON AN AIRPLANE RIGHT NOW?″

″NO!″ I yelled right back. I almost wanted to slam my face against the tree in frustration, but I was worried this creature would actually make me do it, so I just grit my teeth.

Blanc rested their head on Euphoria's lap.

″So why did you return after all this time?″ They asked.

″FRUIT SNACKS!″

Blanc gave a blank, bland stare, although not lasting very long. Something must have clicked. ″I can't believe you remembered that!″ They remarked.

I didn't remember anything about fruit snacks. There was something about 'Euphoria' that seemed familiar somehow.

Have I seen you somewhere before? I wondered.

″YES! THROUGH A CAMERA! THREE BLANCS! I SPLIT TO SEE THEM ALL! HAPPINESS ERUPTION!″ Euphoria answered.

″Huh?″ Blanc asked.

″Conrad had me spy on you when you were 'born', so to speak,″ I explained.

″That's a bit creepy, but okay,″ Blanc yawned.

Yeah, yeah it was.

Memories flooded back to that day. I must have dismissed her presence as nothing. It was hard to say whether things were easier back then or more complicated. Whether I was more or less in control of my situation. Either way, it was a mess then and it's a mess now.

″AH! THAT'S WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY!″ Euphoria declared.

My eyes widened. She seemed to have a habit of answering questions I had no intention to ask.

″YOU LOVE COMPLICATION! YOU'RE SMART ENOUGH TO GET THROUGH ANY SITUATION, BUT THAT WOULD BORE YOU, SO YOU CREATE CONFLICT! THAT'S WONDERFUL!″

″You may be onto something...″ I humored the beast.

″IF YOU HAD A PEACEFUL LIFE YOU WOULD GET BORED! BECAUSE OF THE TROUBLE YOU'RE IN, YOU'RE ALWAYS IN DANGER, BUT IF YOU'RE SAFE, YOU'RE BORED, TOO! THUS, YOUR LIFE IS IN CONSTANT CONFLICT!″

I slapped her, my hand moving through air rather than making contact with flesh. The creature turned her head anyway and wore that constant grin, whether to mock me or because she knew no other expression.

″What do you even know, huh?″ I wobbled to my feet, picked myself up, and stood above her, fuming. ″Do you even know why I'm here?″

″YES!″ She raised her arms into the air. If only a second, they appeared to stretch for miles, but I chalked it up to my eyes playing tricks on me. ″I COULD GRANT IT TO YOU RIGHT NOW!″ She continued. ″BUT IT WOULDN'T MAKE YOU HAPPY, SO I WON'T!″

I stared at the thing housing Blanc. Winds shook the leaves off the surrounding trees.

Blanc's dream fairy tilted her head, kicked the feet that were underneath Blanc's tired self up and down. ″WELL? AM I WRONG?″

Inhale. Exhale.

″If you're an angel like you claim, is there a heaven?″ I asked, dodging her own question.

″WOULD KNOWING MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

Tree bark feel off, my hand holding a tight grip against the tree. ″I don't know. I don't think I want to know.″

She clapped, as if I gave the right answer and it was all a test.

″THEN I WON'T TELL YOU!″

″Tell me something else, then. Where are we?″

″ON THE HIGHWAY!″

″So if a car drives through, will they see this place?″

″IF IT WOULD MAKE THEM HAPPY! I LOVE SHARING!″

″I don't get it, but that's all I needed to know.″ I turned toward Blanc. I couldn't quite tell whether they were asleep or not. Then again, it was hard to tell whether or not I was asleep. I wouldn't have been surprised if I was dreaming everything.

″I'm still going to Area 51. Are you coming with?″

Blanc answered, half-awake but a voice full of confidence.

″I've found what I was looking for. I want to be with Euphy for a while.″

I sighed. ″Fine by me.″

I started my way back to Art's car. Even if I was still on the highway, I was no longer on the road. Still, I had a feeling if I followed this forest far enough, I would be back in the desert and on my way to the facility.

″Hey!″ Blanc called. I turned around to meet the sleepy friend.

″Yo?″

″I still care about you! Don't die out there!″

I smirked. ″Don't worry about me, kiddo. You take care of yourself.″

Foiled by a glass of orange juice. I would have said it was an accident, but I don't believe in such things. Blanc knew better, somehow.

″Fuck!″ I grunted. ″It will take weeks to get this operational now!″

Years of hard work, careful planning, and ruined just like that. So much patience only to be set back by pulpy citrus.

I left the darkened room, furious, but all that fury converted into disappointment, instead. Beiges were sitting down on their couches and chairs, passing along a bong.

″Did you see Blanc and Velvet pass by?″ I asked one of them. Their bulging black hole eyes swallowed me whole. I shook my head, unwilling to be wooed by their alien mind tricks.

″Totes McGoats, Broski. Chickadees flew out the nest,″ the Beige replied while cradling the bong, as if it were actually a secret device and not a method to get high.

″So you're saying they took off on the ship?″

″You know it, 'Rad! Little birdies gotta spread their wings, yeah?″

″Great. Just great.″ I gritted my teeth. These aliens had some master plan, I just knew it. If I could figure out what, the human race may have a chance at redemption. But they were too clever with their stoner impression.

″Are you going to kill us?″ One of the older ones croaked.

I sighed. ″Right now? What's the point? My computer's all destroyed.″

″Suit yourself,″ they shrugged.

″I wanted to go back in time, set things right, but looks like that's a dud,″ I confessed.

″Ah, yes. By now, The Flashbulb have probably figured out that you don't serve them.″

″Don't get it twisted,″ I pushed up my broken glasses. Something I now wore more out of habit than anything else. ″I don't serve you guys either. If I ever find out what you're planning, I swear...″

″We'll be right here. Don't worry.″

I paced about the living room, inhaling the smoke and trying to ignore its effects.

″You disregard lives because you think you can go back in time and do better the next time around. It's the same as them.″

″Excuse me?″

″You may not be on their side, but you play the role well.″

″Maybe so,″ was my reply. ″ But I've learned over the years that the only chance I have of taking them down is if I'm willing to be one of them.″

The old one took a sip from the bong water as if it were a cup of tea.

″I see no flaws in that logic,″ they surmised, then took another sip.

I started to retch. Those creatures disgusted me. Their inaction disgusted me even more. There had to be something they were planning in the shadows; they even admitted at one point that they wanted to control humanity. But how? What were they up to if all they do is sit around all day and pass bongs around?

Away from the living room, I shifted. Somehow I had to get out of this pyramid, back to the city. If there was still something to salvage at the old base, if those enhanced mercenaries didn't seize it all, maybe there was still a fighting chance.

″If you're looking for a way out of here,″ the elder called. ″Why not try asking Tim?″

I looked back, my face flushed. How could this stoned alien know?

Not wanting to show fear, I nodded, then went up the stairs.

″Just don't kill Tim this time!″

Some sort of jolt ran through me, but I chalked it up to a slight malfunction in the air conditioning unit; a cough in an otherwise functioning piece of hardware.

I need some fucking aspirin, I jotted down on a mental chalkboard. That would solve at least one of my problems. Those lines repeated, some sort of divine mental punishment playing out. Not the government approved kind, either. The real shit.

″FOR A GOOD TIME, CALL YOUR LOCAL REPRESENTATIVE OF CONGRESS!″ Echoed a seductive voice through the alarms of one of my phones. Waking up was a dread only mortals should have to experience. It was like being brought back to life from an amusement park ride. Dreams themselves, were a beautiful thing, just as humans could be if they accepted their potential. Before waking, I was in a field; not flowers, no wheat, none of the sort. But heaps and heaps of green. No grass, only frogs. I was drowning in frogs and if memory serves, I devoured one.

Before I could suffocate, however, that incessant alarm just had to remind me of the importance of said advertisement. Near future where phone sex was no longer interesting and instead people called congress to get off. Those few folk who still rely on phones and not the internet, anyway.

Speaking of internet, I arose from the sheets and stretched my limbs before counting them. I had exactly the same amount as before I slept. Two arms, two legs. I recounted the arms. A sharp pain was felt in one of them, but I could always ask Gumby for some aspirin.

Doors flung open as I waltzed through, humming a tune akin to one found in Kubrick's interpretation of A Clockwork Orange. For the record, an overrated film but a more or less rated just as it should be novel. With some minor adjustments here and there.

″Oh, Kelly!″ I sang, before a leap into the air and landing behind the good worm.

″Roger,″ Ol' K. Rog added.

″What a good evening, wouldn't you say?″ I sprinkled in a little ice breaker, as I knew there were some serious matters underway.

″Do you ever sleep?″ Kelly Roger, the tadpole, grumbled. ″It's 4 AM. I overheard you and Polo arguing just a few minutes ago. Before that you were jumping around doing lord knows what.″

That was a good question, I would have to hand it to the larva.

″This used to be a secret medical facility, need I remind you. Speaking of, don't you have something of importance to show me?″ I spoke in jest.

Kelly Roger's eyes lit up, a puppy hearing the word ″walk″ and understanding the implications.

″That's right! How did you know?″ Then the Kelly of the Roger's eyes squinted. ″Were you spying on me again?″

″That is a good question, babe! Oh, lad, I have to wonder that myself! 'Do I ever sleep?'″ I nestled my chin into the palm of my hand. ″I dream. I lay in a bed. But does that automatically mean sleeping? I do not know!″

The ginger root looked away, staring back into the screen. ″If you're not going to answer, fine. Not like I can't do anything else with my time,″ Kelly Roger's voice slipped away, hand as well, reaching next to the computer monitor for an energy drink. Mouth opened agape, a chemical concoction filled the reservoir and a swallow was heard below.

Kelly Roger belched. ″Whatever. I don't sleep, myself,″ the slurred voice of deprivation added before the hand assisting the voice wiped at the accompanying mouth.

″No, I did not 'spy' on you! You blocked the signal to my monitor! Whatever you've been viewing is your own discretion! That said, I know exactly what you wish to show me!″

How? Answers are a funny thing. Mystery. Maybe Kelly Roger showed me once already in a different manner. Before the sequence of events were rewritten.

″Yeah, apparently some shit's going down in a place called 'Groom Lake'!″ Kelly Roger exclaimed, bouncing off the seat with enthusiasm one so young might have.

″I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see my brother,″ I considered. Communication is a powerful tool and one I had not been using for a while.

″Huh?″

″The place is known more commonly as Area 51,″ I informed Kelly Roger, though likely the spawn already knew such information. ″Home to jet fuel, steel beams, and not much else. Some unknown aircrafts here and there, otherwise jack shit.″

″So that's it?″ Kelly Roger gave the puppy dog look of disappointment. ″You already knew what the document said somehow, plus there's no need to do anything about it? All that work, for nothing?″

It was a real concern to this creature, but the irony being that it would be such a tragedy for such a well crafted plan to amount to nothing, no change at all. Drastic, dramatic, nothing. What would be the point of making something so complex only for there to be no payoff?

″There are so many beautiful things in this world, my lass. Think of the rainforests. Just concentrate on that image.″

Kelly Roger, like an obedient pup, slammed the eyelids belonging to a haphazardly constructed face. Then opened them again.

″Nope. Nothing.″

″The document also states, if I recall,″ I paused. I almost added the word 'correctly', but had to stop myself. Correct was a foul word. ″That there are secret tests being done to eliminate the amphibian population. No, that's the wrong word...″

″Eradicate,″ Kelly Roger corrected.

″Or genocide? Extinction? Something like that.″

Everything was relative, but some words were better than others.

″So if that's the case, why aren't we going to do anything about it?″

″Is there a better word in this context?″

″Marco!″ Ol' K. Rog snapped (a nickname that Kelly Roger loved).

″Polo!″ Polo chimed in, my sweet little sister, right on cue.

″Ah, good segue!″ I looked down at the sibling I could always rely on. ″Yes, Kelly Rowland! We are going to do something! Something very important, in fact!″

″Roger,″ the figure sitting at the computer mentioned for whatever reason.

″Dodger,″ I replied, figuring this was some game.

″Ugh!″ Kelly Roger snapped. ″Just get on with it! What are we going to do?″

″My dear sister is going to such an area, the one the common people call '51', along with Mr. Periwinkle and Gumby.″

″That freak axolotl?″ Kelly Roger scoffed. It was sad how our guest thought of Gumby, once describing our gay salamander as ″the shape of a chubby man in a trench coat, but the face of a salamander″. The description was apt enough, but I wept; Gumby was insecure about their weight.

″I tip my cap,″ I gave a dejected salute.

″And?″

″We're going to make a statement. We already know The Flashbulb is trying to throw us off. As I said, nothing of importance exists in that area, the better stuff is in a facility underground elsewhere. They're expecting us, lying in ambush for us. But we'll take the bait. Because that's not what they're expecting.″

″...Isn't that exactly what they're expecting?″ Kelly Roger interjected, thinking in simple terms. No matter how much work on a computer this simple form of life could do, it couldn't stop Kelly Roger from being simple.

″Frogs are the future, whether The Flashbulb try to change that or not,″ I declared, shaking my head, so pride and shame could make love in front of Kelly Roger with the sound of my voice and the look on my face.

″I don't give a shit about your frogs! What about me?″

There it was. Underneath all those simplifications, there was still a little bit of Kelly Roger.

″Oh, don't you know? Without Abel, Cain would have a different use for a rock.��

The hope, in theory, was to make me look like a scholar in the eyes of a pupil.

″Yeah, that's bullshit too. Why the fuck am I even here if I'm not going to do anything?″

I gave the ginger tadpole a pat on the head. Not every lad could be so clueless.

″Why do you feel the need for validation? You're as happy as a clam! You have the brain capacity of one, in any case!″ I pondered the words I spoke.

″What? I don't care at all. I can stay right here, but I just thought there was a reason you lumped me in with your group. So far I've just been sitting around. It's the same old, same old as when I was with Conrad and Velvet. Nothing's changed, and at this point, fine. I'm fine with that! Change is overrated, right?″

Another pat. Tit-for-tat.

″We are going back to the city, you and I.″

″What?!″ Kelly Roger gasped. ″Are you kidding? What for?″

″To see a marching band,″ was the reply I gave. It was easier than telling Kelly Roger that a pawn in the right circumstances was as important as a queen. That Kelly Roger was the most important piece of all.

They say it's better not to look back after making a big decision. I don't know who, but I know it's been said.

I looked back anyway.

Blobs could be made out underneath the same tree, but they were fading from view. My vision could have been fading, too, but I was of the belief that I saw more clear than should be possible. In front of me was the approaching image of the wreckage of a car. I looked forward, toward said car, trying to forget what those blobs represented and how I tried to make sense of either of them.

Maybe it's true. Maybe you love complication a little too much, a voice suggested. It should have been yelling in the squeaky voice who told me as much just moments ago.

″Maybe, but I'm not in the mood to die, either. I don't have my laptop or any of my gear. I don't know how I'm going to get into such a facility unscathed and undetected,″ I muttered.

That's where the wreckage of Art's car came in. Within a quick peer at the front seat, or what was left of it, I winced. I had to hold back tears from my eyes and tearing in my stomach. Every nerve within me seemed to tighten up. Out came a few deep breaths, and me reminding myself that I shouldn't feel this way when I so shamelessly was trying to loot from a corpse.

My hand reached into his back pocket. This is all uncomfortable, was the reaction coming from my brain. I've done things like this before, I shot back, to myself, and no one else.

What I fished was a wallet. Aside from some cash and some lint, nothing of value. No I.D. or membership cards. No coupons for anything.

I placed his wallet on his lap as if to give some sign of respect.

Then I moved around, to the passenger side. That's where the glove compartment box was. I remember various times looking through those boxes and never finding gloves, so the name always struck me as puzzling. Nevertheless, this one I wish I wore gloves before I opened; much of Art's blood and what I could only assume to be skin tissue made its way onto the box. Before opening the latch, I had to turn my head, heaving and doing my best not to retch.

Scattered cards and documentations spilled forth onto the seat. I picked a few of the cards up. All I.D.'s.

″Arturia Pendragon...Arthur Dent...Art Bell...Art Garfunkel...″ I read over, then looked at a few more. ″Art Alexakis...Arthur Read...Artichoke Heart...″ I stopped myself. I don't know why Art ever bothered with these fake names. All of the pictures were the same. If an officer pulled Art over and asked to see a license and saw the name 'Arturia Pendragon', that probably wouldn't go over well.

″Jeez, what kind of person were you?″ I muttered, glancing at the corpse. ″Why would someone go through the trouble of making up so many fake names for themselves? It's just ridiculous.″

I almost felt defeated, having found nothing, not even insight into this stranger's life.

Art wanted to take pictures, I recalled, just a second before I was ready to step away.

There was no sign of any camera in the front seat, unless he was planning on taking pictures with his phone. What was peculiar was that I found no phone on his person, anyway.

″The trunk!″ I gasped. The little lightbulb moment folks tend to have.

Keys were still in the ignition. I leaned over, yanked them out, and dashed to the trunk.

Inside, sure enough, was a Kodak camera, and not one of those digital ones. More along the lines of those kind you'd have to develop. Would have probably come out in black and white, too. Rather poor taste, unless he was going for that whole ″Unsolved Mysteries″ vibe.

Aside from the camera, however, little else. There was a canteen of water I could use. A sleeping bag, if I could figure out how to make use of that. Maybe my inner MacGuyver would come out. That was it.

I took those three things anyway, the rolled up sleeping back strapped on my back, the canteen in my pocket, and the camera around my neck. With the trunk slammed shut, I was about ready to depart, but it didn't quite feel right.

Back at the front seat, I forced myself to witness the stout figure I knew for only a couple hours.

″Dearly departed Art, if that was your name, may you keep the same optimism wherever you are now that you did when you were here. May you find the same happiness you found here. I may not have known you long, or at all, and even if you were a 1/1000th of who you might have once been, it was clear that you lived and died on your own terms with a life you were satisfied with. I could only wish that the same could be said for myself. Farewell, stranger,″ I recited. I didn't know how to make a eulogy, and those words seemed like the corniest shit ever, but they would have to do.

After placing those fake I.D.'s on his lap, right next to his wallet, I took a sip from the canteen and spit out the water.

Hot.

Wincing once more, I waved goodbye.

I'll have to live with hot water for a little while.

Canteen, camera, and sleeping bag. No matter how I looked at it, all I could see was a mess. There was no foreseeable way I was going to live once I made it there.

Thinking back on that fairy (angel/demon/thing), I couldn't help but scoff.

″All happiness is is a fleeting feeling, may as well ride the wave while its there.″

[darkcloud-kcalifornia]

Right, don’t have energy to spare after work so let’s do this before work as I’ve got closing shift today.  It’s time for more Nanoha.  No screenshots this time as I’m gonna be watching this on the TV as my couch is far more comfy than my chair.  But enough of needless details, it’s time for me to talk needlessly about details in Nanoha StrikerS episode 18, “Wings, Once Again”.

* Oh hey, new opening. Would be nice if they bothered to subtitle this, but Amazon is kinda lazy about things like that.

* The press is on the prowl! And the TSAB is being rather tight-lipped about the whole thing.  That might actually be for the best.  The last thing they want getting out is that a mad scientist kicked their collective butts and is willing to do work for hire.

* Oh gee, would you look at that, Regius was funding the Doc and there was a sudden yet inevitable betrayal. This is my shocked face.

* Regius’ assistant Auris is nowhere to be seen, because unlike Regius she has more work to do than just sit in an office and scream at people.

* Teana is relieved by Signum so she can visit the injured (mainly Subaru) in the hospital, and Nanoha-mama is trying to drown the pain and worry in work.  Oh sure, she won’t say that’s what she’s doing, but it’s what she’s doing.

* Ooh, Nanoha just found Vivio’s burned and torn bunny. Yeah, she ain’t reacting well to that.

* Over in the hospital Shari is tearfully apologizing to Fate for failing to stop the army of robots, fembots, and summoner girl with the big bugs.  I don’t think anybody expected her to personally stand up to that much.

* Looks like the worst injuries were sustained by Zafira, Rein (GRRRRRR!!!!), and Vice.  None of them are in critical condition at this point, but Vice and Zafira at least aren’t going to be getting up anytime soon.  And we still haven’t seen Subaru’s condition after having the flesh torn from her arm and all that.  Really, if she wasn’t a cyborg they might have had to give her a replacement anyway.

* Well Subaru’s acting like things aren’t a big deal and she’s moving her arm, but there’s a definite mechanical sound as she does so, and the nerve cables were injured so she can’t move it around particularly well.  I wonder where she’d get replacement parts for that kind of thing anyway?  It sort of brings back the speculation from last time of “regular replacements or nanomachines”.

* Apparently it must be Nanomachines, because Subaru is expected to recover in a few days.

* Caro and Erio decide to the other two must want soup, i.e. give the two a little alone time. Normally I’d be making winky faces over that but I’m pretty sure this is going to be a more serious conversation.

* Tea doesn’t try to spare Subaru’s feelings when she blames herself for bad decisions made during the fight.  It was a mistake to rush ahead and get into more than she could handle, even if she did make one heck of a showing for herself.  Nothing like tough love.  But she also reassures Subaru that they’re going to act as a team to get them back for this and rescue Ginga and Vivio while nailing Jail to the wall.  If he’s lucky, that will be metaphorical.  If he’s unlucky, Nanoha will want to discuss her feelings on the matter.

* While Hayate grills Auris about what Regius has been up to, Fate and Nanoha are asking Nakajima about his family, what with the whole “actually cyborgs” thing.

* Hmm… some interesting stuff here.  The cyborg project was actually several ones that dated back to before the founding of the TSAB, and multiple worlds were trying to figure it out.  There was only a real breakthrough about 25 years ago. Chrono also mentions that this isn’t the only thing mechanical and biotechnology has been used for, as apparently the TSAB makes use of artificial bones and organs.  Goodness knows we could use that kind of tech.  Heck, my dad is going in for spinal injections Monday because he’s missing a disc and they can’t actually replace it, just try and bring the swelling down.

* Oh, and apparently problems with rejecting the organs still pop up, so they haven’t solved that one yet. At least the sane scientists haven’t. The mad ones however figured out how to do so.  They actually change the cyborgs genes to accept the mechanical parts as a part of the body.  That seems ludicrously complicated and prone to failure, plus was something that had to do before the test subjects were even born.

* Nakajima’s wife was a TSAB investigator who was handling the early crop of combat cyborgs that were rampaging all crazy, and Ginga and Subaru are two of them that they decided to adopt because they weren’t having much luck the natural way.  That and the two kinda looked like they could belong to them anyway.  They tried to raise them as normally as possible with the TSAB doing the occasional bit of maintenance on their bodies, until Mrs. Nakajima died on a secret mission and dad decided the girls were old enough to know the truth.

* After that Nakajima has been pursuing cases involving combat cyborgs on his own, and thinks Hayate is a bit sneaky for dropping a line about how her current project might end up involving them so he’d play ball.  Not that she was wrong, mind you.  They’ve got more of the things than they can handle right now.

* Hayate confronts Auris about the fact that Regius had approved of combat cyborgs and artificial mages being used by the TSAB in the past, only to get shut down because of costs and ethics.  As it’s apparent that Regius doesn’t care about ethics in the slightest Hayate wants confirmation that he was having the research continued in secret.

* Auris’ defense is Regius’ seniority and counterfactual whataboutism.  I swear this show was prescient.  Anyway, when that doesn’t work to deter Hayate Auris resorts to “get a warrant or piss off”.

* Ooh, turns out there’s to be an immediate inquiry into Regius and his other pet project is being shut down.  Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving man… in this particular fictional universe.

* Holy crap, the picture of Zest that the security cameras captured managed to scare Regius into an actual heart attack!  Somebody knows they’re in trouble.

* Speaking of Zest, he’s possibly not as much of a threat as Regius thinks as he’s out in the woods vomiting blood.  Agito is acting as his nurse and freaking out, though he says the attack has passed for the moment.

* Uno calls him up while Agito leaves to make medicine, and also comments on the fact that he looks like hell.  Zest isn’t concerned about that.  He states that he isn’t of much use nor is he going to get in their way.  Uno lets slip to the viewers that Zest is an artificial mage, which might be the reason for the guy having the hate he does for Regius and Jail.  Zest makes another interesting claim, that he’s already died before and this is just a temporary reprieve before going back into his grave.  Does this mean the Doc was experimenting on corpses as well?  ‘Cause if so that’s make Zest a lich, which is kinda awesome.  Though it could just be that he considers his old self dead after a near death followed by capture and experimentation.

* It seems that the beating Cinque and Ginga took were enough to require the both of them to require extensive repairs.  Nove wants to kill Subaru and Tea for that, but Quattro reminds her that they need Subaru alive.

* And now we’ve learned why Lutecia is working for the Doc.  Apparently he’s got her mom in a tube, and she can only be brought back with Relic XI. Supposedly.  Lutecia actually doesn’t recognize the woman in the tube, she’s just been told that’s her mom.

* Sweet!  Hayate decided that for the time being Riot Force 6 would benefit from having a more mobile base that’s big enough for the members live in, so they’re taking the Arthra out of storage and putting her to use one last time.

* That night Fate has to comfort Nanoha over the kidnapping of Vivio.  Nanoha might have put on a brave face in front of the kids and TSAB staff, but she is not taking this well at all.  Fate reassures her that Vivio is fine right now.  The Doc wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt her.

* So of course the episode ends with Vivio on an operating table screaming for her mama as Jail prepares to inject her with a Relic, saying she is going to be his masterpiece.

 Well that’s the end of that. This episode appears to have mostly been about recovering from the previous couple, as well as informing everybody on how things came to be like this.  Not the best episode if you don’t like exposition, but there was some interesting new info there.  And it does a very good job of showing just how scummy both Jail and Regius are.  After all, they’ve been working together. Gotta love the implication that Regius had Subaru’s mother killed for getting too close, and also showing that Jail is not only willing to experiment on terrified children, but that he’ll do so with a smile on his face.