#is it love at first sight for Jaq?

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Five: Daryl Dixon + Sweat

Even with guts, dirt, and sweat stuck to his skin he still the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

It was hard finding someone who was right in this fucked up, and wrong world. Maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in this world. The killing was definitely hard, but if it’s you agasint the whole world is kinda hard to tell the difference.

Daryl wasn’t the type of person who I thought everyone was gonna be like. This world was a fucked up one, but Daryl oh he made it all worth it. When I had first met him it was because he was saving my life from a hoard of zombies. Loud, black motorcycle running in to save me from the hoard. I had fallen in love that day with Daryl not that I told him. Hell Daryl figured out before I even had a chance to tell him about my growing crush on him.

He came over to my home in Alexandria. Knocking gently on the door. When I opened it I was prepared for the sweaty, dirt covered man standing in front of me. “Can I come in?” He asked his voice hoarse. “Of course.” I said letting him in, and closing the door behind him. I bite my bottom lip at the sight of him standing in front of me. Sweaty, and sexy all in the same sentence. He stood in my living room. “You can sit Daryl it’s fine I don’t care.” I mumbled as I took a seat next to him.

“What’s up?” I didn’t wanna guess why he was there or what he was thinking right now. “I’ve been thinking…” Daryl started. I nodded, “Thinking about?” The longer I stared at him the longer my mind left the world we were in. Fantasies of Daryl running through my mind. His body pressed up agasint mine as I tried to keep my moans to myself. Nothing felt better then the way that I thought Daryl would treat me. All of that was blown away when Daryl cleared his throat.

“Are… Y/n are you interested in me?” Daryl asked straight forward unlike how I imagined all of this going. I imagined something more romantic on my part, his lips kissing mine softly and everything being under candle light after a good dinner together. But at least here we were the words flooding my mind, and the only thing I could think of doing was leaning into his space and kissing his lips. Maybe a little too forward, but I didn’t give a damn right now.

His lips are soft, but they're slick in salty sweat it makes my thighs squezze together tighter then when Darly just barely looks at me. He takes a moment to kiss me back, but when he does he pulls me into his lap and his body is pressed up agasint mine.

I nearly moan into the kiss, but hold it all back. I just want to have his lips memeorized, imprinted in my head. I don't wanna remember anything else.

"So I'd take that as you are interested in me." Darly mumbles out as we seperate from out kiss. I blush and nod my head. "Good god women, you should'a just said that sooner." Darly mumbles and he passes his thumb over my bottom lip. I take his thumb into my mouth and moan around it.

His thumb sure is dirty, and sweaty but who cares because I'm in his lap and I can feel him pressed up agasint me. Aching to do just more then kiss me.

Completed on: 06/11/23

Posted on: 10/05/23

Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays

The Walking Dead Master List // The Hearts Master List // Kinktober '23

[jumpship90]

wip weekend

Just because I felt like sharing and I'm pleased I managed to get any writing done this weekend, here is Jaq's first meeting with Phineas in the coffee-shop Christmas au I'm working on.

The bell above the door tinkled merrily when Jaq stepped inside, shutting it carefully behind them. Immediately, they were enveloped by a comforting blanket of warmth. A hundred competing scents, each more mouth-watering than the last, washed over them in an instant; coffee, chocolate, baking bread, and a sweetness that seemed to linger in the air and settle in their chest. It was a heady mix and brought crashing into their mind the memory of dark winter evenings spent in a farm house kitchen, playing cards at the dinner table.

The unexpected wave of nostalgia halted them in their tracks until a steady stream of muttered curses roused them. A second later, a head popped up from behind the counter and a wiry, older man appeared, wrestling with a sack of coffee beans near the same size as he was.

“Void-damned suppliers,” he grumbled. “Never read the instructions. ‘Illegible handwriting,’ ha! How dare they?”

Jaq watched as he lugged his burden toward an ancient coffee machine with straining gangly limbs, huffing and puffing as he went. Over a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal flour-dusted forearms he wore an apron in olive green, dotted with political pin badges and coffee stains. Day-old stubble peppered hollow cheeks and his wild grey hair didn’t seem to have ever seen a comb. Jaq was entranced.

“Probably didn’t even check the note - Ahh! Hullo! Are you here for the union meeting?”

The man abruptly turned his gaze upon them, great caterpillar eyebrows darting about as he took in their appearance. Jaq suddenly found themself feeling strangely self-conscious under his scrutiny, glancing down at the paint splatters and sawdust across their polo shirt and the tool belt still strapped about their waist. Then the peculiar man gave them a smile that lit up sparkling eyes the colour of winter snow clouds.

“You’re a little early, I’m afraid,” he said, his tone cheerful despite the flush of exertion still lingering about his pale skin. “But you’re very welcome to sit and wait.”

It took them a second to remember precisely why they had come to the café in the first place.

“Actually, I’m just here to pick up coffee for my crew,” they managed eventually.

“Oh, I see.” He peered at them, lines deepening about the most expressive face Jaq had ever seen. “You are in a union though, yes?” he said, a sudden intensity about his words. Jaq nodded and his lips turned up once more. “Excellent! Ten percent discount then.”

Tagging in a few people in case anyone else feels like sharing - @damejudyhench @the-lastcall @kourumi and anyone else who wants to :)

[nevaryadl]

Takeda and Jacqui are new parents cw: trans male pregnancy

"So, how's it feel to be a dad, Tech?"

"Tired," Takeda said, struggling to keep his eyes open. The painkillers were doing him wonders and he was feeling fuzzy and warm all over. Not to mention he had just gone through something strenuous and taxing and his body felt tired all over.

"I mean besides that, nerd," Mister Cage said, holding his new baby girl for him so he could go noodle limbed in the hospital bed. She was swaddled in a pink blanket and Takeda still melted at the sight of her soft little face and just how much she looked like Jacqui. His baby girl... wow.

"Let me work the painkillers off first, head's fuzzy," Takeda hummed, still very fuzzy from the painkillers.

Jacqui, tired from having spent the entire process and having stayed with him afterwards but still trucking along because she was super jazzed about being a new mom, leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. She leaned her head on Takeda's shoulder and just smiled as mister Cage held their baby to give the two of them a brief break from the past few hours. Also they were well aware that, given their extensive found family, there were bound to be lots of people very eager to meet their newest family member and wanting to hold her.

"We'll be super jazzed and probably happy cry when we're both not exhausted," Jacqui smiled.

"I get that," Johnny grinned at the two tired parents. "Still. Proud of you two, and don't take offense to this Jaq-attack, but mostly Takeda since he did the uh 'footwork'."

"Nah, I get it, I'm super proud of him too," Jacqui grinned, lifting her head up to press a kiss to Takeda's smiling cheek.

There was a gentle knock at the door, the three looking up to see Grandmaster Hashashi and Kuai Liang, who of whom were dressed casually given that few civilians reacted well to the fighting gear. They beamed at the sight of the baby in Johnny's arms.

"All is well, Takeda?" Hanzo asked quietly.

"Yep. Just very loopy on painkillers right now, but we're all good," Takeda smiled, feeling his heart warm at the sight of Johnny handing the baby over to a very happy Hanzo, smiling quite warmly at the baby once she was in his arms. Hanzo had been like a dad to him for many years, and he was so happy to let his baby girl meet one of several of her grandparents. He knew what it meant for Hanzo to hold her too.

"What a lovely child," Kuai Liang smiled, leaning against Hanzo's side to get a better look.

"Beautiful as her mom," Takeda beamed, getting a big old grin from his glorious wife.

Takeda had to wait for the anesthesia to wear off, so he had a day of people coming and going. Mostly the many zany kombants in casual and civilian wear coming in for quick visits, wary of stressing himself or the baby with one too many faces. It was good to see everyone still, and glad to see everyone was excited to see the baby. And he absolutely would be with Jacqui in balling his eyes out over their daughter (holy shit they had a kid!). But right now he was very loopy and very tired and just really loving the sight of his family holding his daughter.

Oh yeah, he was super stoked to be a dad.

[betwixtofficial]

UNDERWING CHALLENGE DAY 3

Day 1 [X]

Day 2 [X]

Who is your main cast? Describe as many of your OCs as you can cram into one post.

Character Introduction-  this is by no means the entirety of our cast, not even close.

Leith and I each developed our own characters over many many years and I'm going to do my best to bring Leith’s characters to life as accurately as possible and I promise to love (torture) them like they're my own.

Andi’s characters-

Xavier Alexander Maxwell-   When it comes down to it, this is Xave's story. A small pale faerie-human halfling, with a painfully tragic beginning, looking for love and family in all the wrong places. Xavier has neon, glitter, and more sexual energy coursing through his veins than he knows what to do with. A faerie half he doesn’t always have control over, and between the Fae, the Zaccardas, and his own personal demons- all fighting for a chance to control him, it’s going to be a  long dark journey.    It’s not ONLY pain and dark. It's just MOSTLY pain and dark. ...you know, aside from all the glitter and neon.

Alexander- I wasn't planning on adding Alex to this, I am not sure how I didn't realize he was one of the main characters till now, but he shows up as often or even more often than any of the other characters besides Xave. Alex is Xavier's fae half. They are the very first human/faerie hybrid and though they aren't completely separate, there are some strong distinctions, and they communicate with each other, so they are separate enough for Alex to have his own blurb.

But really it's very difficult to tell where one of them begins and the other ends. They are the same being, They are both magic and mundane, they are both human and fae. Xave tends to lean more human, Alex tends to lean more faerie, they are both real. They do have somewhat distinct personalities, ... Xave is 2010 Bill Kaulitz (especially the blushy giggly interviews) and Alex is Adam Lambert in For Your Entertainment. In either case there is a lot of mascara involved. It's complicated.

Rivet Dragonrail-  A grown up lost girl with dark olive skin and brown eyes,  she has always tried to put her clouded origins behind her, but they never seem to stay put.  With freakish abilities she’d rather not have, a pervasive drinking problem she scoffs at, and an unfortunate talent for violence in the service of those for whom she is unwillingly compelled to play the role of savior,  it seems like she’s always walking a path hellbent on destruction.  She feels the sins she has committed are ceaselessly breathing down her neck, requiring atonement she does not know how to provide.  She would like nothing more than to stand in the eye of the raging storm of the lives lived and lost around her, screaming at the sheer horror of it all, giving a big middle finger to both heaven and hell alike.   But what good, really, would that do?  So she plods on-  her best friends are the knife on her hip,  the beer in her fridge, the damn raven-shifter who has adopted her out of morbid curiosity, the damn chicken she’s adopted out of sheer respect for his will to live....  and Jaq,  her ride or die that she can’t figure out her feelings for,  but it doesn’t fucking matter because that just ain’t happening. Jaq is as gay as it gets.

Ember Skye Arceneaux- He’s too good to be true.  No, really.   His smile is like sunshine poured into your soul.  Golden surfer boy good looks with sunkissed golden surfer hair tucked behind his ears, but his golden tan isn’t from the beach or the salon, it’s just his skin. Kind-hearted and generous.  Plays guitar and sings like an angel with a perfect soulful raspy voice...   And he loves Jaq absolutely and unconditionally, whether Jaq deserves it or not... and he’s Canadian.  His only flaw seems to be that he’s maybe a little too laid back?

Luca Zaccarda-  Since childhood his exceptionally ambitious mother has pushed him to leadership. She grafted her way on to the powerful Zaccarda family tree by marrying a younger son with no ambition past his next perfectly kneaded loaf of ciabatta, and then did everything in her power to see her eldest child reach the heights of power for which she believed he was destined. There’s only one problem- Luca doesn’t share her cut-throat nature. Ambition, power, and the trappings of wealth have never been the driving factors in his life and he’s set his mind to changing the status quo, mama and her scheming be damned.  Oh, he’s just as capable a leader as she believes him to be.  He’s no plump baker happily whistling away his hours in the kitchen like his father.. and he’s planning on taking down his own corrupt family,  one... by one... by one.    ...also... Mafia Werewolves anybody!?!

Teodoro Zaccarda- oh Teo, Teo, Teo.  The black sheep.  The playboy prince.  Constantly in the tabloids,  constantly in trouble,  needing bailed out of this situation or that.  Coming home drunk, or high, or naked.  The family embarrassment.  He just wishes his family wouldn’t expect so much from him.   Like,  the bare minimum.  That’s all they expect Teo.  The bare minimum.

There are about 50 other Zaccardas. I have a family tree of them. Some are more important than others, but the two listed here show up far more often than any of the others.

Leith’s characters-

Wynter Primose Dean - The physical embodiment of anxiety, standing at 6ft 9, built like a brick house, with a heart of gold and a difficult stutter. He fell in love with the right person at the wrong time, felt heartache like he had never before and after an extremely traumatic breakup he discovered his true nature, under a full moon, alone and afraid in the middle of nowhere - a werewolf. With a love for nature and all things wild, he spends a lot of his time isolated out at his cabin, crafting beautiful wooden furniture and spending more time with trees than with the people he calls family.

Jaq Knox - Dealing with childhood trauma and serious mental illness that messes up his perceptions of reality, he rarely trusts people. For the few he has let in it’s a constant battle with communication and understanding, for both parties involved. He struggles to understand the absolutes of right and wrong; he does have a moral code but often, especially in the past, he’s just been a thoughtless asshole as it was easier that way, easier to keep people at a distance. Throughout his struggles with his mind, encounters with the law and various substances, he’s been pushing  boundaries in the art world and is slowly learning how to be a better person, realizing that people actually do care about him and that maybe having a found-family isn’t so bad after all.

Eden Knox - He seems perfect, standing at 6ft tall with soft, pale blonde hair and clear skin, dressing in white and pastel colors, carrying an expensive purse and smelling like a walking Bath and Bodyworks. But as with everyone he has his demons, his just happens to have a name - Jonah. He was swept off his feet at the tender age of nineteen and carried off into a life that was a very far cry from his upbringing in a group foster home. But his perfect life with his handsome husband is nothing like what it appears from the outside, and life gets very dark before it begins to get light again.

Aspen Merrill - The younger of the Merrill brothers, he started a family at a young age with a woman he didn’t truly love - after a very amicable divorce they now co-parent their two children. He was lost for a very long time, wandering between jobs he didn’t really enjoy, women he didn’t really love, friends he didn’t really like, until he met Luca and he found his calling. He is Alfred to Luca’s Batman, from straightening ties before important meetings to organizing decoy cars to get Luca out of dangerous situations, he is extremely calm and collected and a haven of stability.

Jonah Merrill - The king of his own castle, the only person that matters in his world is himself, oh and sometimes his husband, when its convenient to him of course. Never one to shy away from threats or violence to achieve a goal, he’s not only unstoppable in his personal life but in business, using his many connections to overpower and intimidate anyone who gets in his way. Once he discovers magic and the power it can bear he’s even more unstoppable than before, and uses his husbands complete loyalty for his own very dark plans.

The cast is a pride rainbow flag. We’re all queer here. Well, except for Aspen, he might be one of the only completely cishet character in sight.

[meet-the-technician]

For an character blog, I don't talk too much about the character. So here's some trivia:

When Tech was young, she once had a pet mouse. She named him Jaq after the one in Cinderella. That little mouse was her whole world and she treasured him like he was her best friend. Sadly, mice don't live long, and after 5 years of special care, he passed away naturally. Tech was inconsolable and mourned Jaq for a long time. She never got another pet after that...

...Until 1968, when she was helping some of the others buy supplies at the pet store. She wandered off, just to look around, and came face to face with a small, young, light brown mouse. It was love at first sight, and despite her experience last time, she couldn't pull herself away. Hearing Medic's offer to work to extend the mouse's life, Tech, after making him promise not to use the mouse as a test subject in any experiments, took the little rodent home. I'll think of a name later.

(Also 100th post yay)

[sugar-and-pearls]

Carl and Ellie, Buzz and Jesse, Thomas O’Malley and Duchess, Jaq and Mary, and Oswald and Ortensia! With whichever f/o you’d like!!!! :D

Thank you Joanna!!

Carl and Ellie: What sorts of pictures would you and your f/o put in a scrapbook together?

John and I have a scrapbook that we keep at his place. It has lots of my baby pictures, pictures of John’s punk band days, pictures of when he lived in England and a few really old pictures of his childhood in Liverpool. Its funny to see him with his spiked up hair and band tees holding this tiny toddler dressed in bat print onesie and pigtails. 

Buzz and Jessie: Who fell in love first, and were they the first to confess?

Dominic fell first, as well as the first to ask out and the first to confess. He was very open about how he felt about me and always talk about how the first time he saw me knew I was the one- Love at first sight he says - and how he had to ask me out. Which Dominic did the same day we met. 

Thomas O'Malley and Duchess: What was it like introducing your f/o to your loved ones/being introduced to your f/o’s loved ones?

It was strange being introduced to the gang of vampire bikers. They were rowdy but friendly enough. I got along well with everyone but best with Dwayne. They all teased us when I hide behind Marko at first. 

Jaq and Mary: What’s something one of you has done in attempt to impress the other?

Back when we were kids Dabi I was very clumsy, often tripping on tree roots and thin air. If I got hurt too badly he would carry me around bridal style to show how strong he was. I was however a very oblivious and was not aware that was why he was doing it. Poor Dabi was not amused by it. We laugh about it now. He still tries to carry me bridal when I hurt myself- the difference now is that I’m aware of how strong he is now, lets just say that Dabi is a very happy man when he sees how red my face is when he’s doing it now.

Oswald and Ortensia: Do you and your f/o like to brag about each other to others?

Hei isn’t the type to brag but I certainly do- leave us in a room of strangers and I’ll start bragging about my handsome partner who cooks better than everyone else. Poor Hei gets this fed up look on his face when I do this but what can I do? I can’t lie about how good this one woman’s pasta is when I know his is superior 

[pixelatedrose]

Soulbound part Six

First | Previous | Part 6 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word Count: 2,651

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, background Remile

Warnings: uncensored swearing, unsympathetic Deceit, one small mention of being shot (metaphorically), if i missed anything please please tell me and if there's something in particular you want me to tag, don't be afraid to let me know!!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

Chapter 6

  It was five minutes till the bell and 15 minutes ago Roman had given up on hoping Mr. Sanders and Virgil would come back. For all he knew they could be through a magical portal and would come back a day later and twice their ages and having gone incredible life changing journeys and Virgil would have realized too late that he wanted to be Roman's bestest friend in the entire world.

  Of course if that happened Roman would be pissed cause they went on a magical journey without him!!!

  "SORRY CLASS!!" Mr. Sanders announced loudly, bursting in through the door dramatically. Roman, who had been standing near the door, jumped nearly 5 feet in the air and suppressed a shriek, having it come out as a scream instead. Not much better.

  The class laughed softly and from behind the teacher, Roman saw Virgil.

  And what a sight he was.

  His eyes were tear streaked and red, but his eyes danced with joy as he held back a laugh. It was like witnessing raining stars, if you know what that is; when the sun shines on falling hail, it looks like sparkling stars streaking from the heavens.

  There were still the remnants of tears caught in his lashes and just the tip of his nose was red, matching his cheeks. And somehow, it was only then that Roman noticed his freckles, unmasked by tears and a lack of concealer.

  He was beautiful.

  And once again Roman got caught up in the moment and had forgotten where he was and what had happened.

  Virgil seemed to have caught Roman's staring and threw his hood over his head, obscuring his eyes, however failing to hide his shy smile that he thought he was so cleverly masking.

  "Well! Sorry about that but it's all over now and I would sincerely appreciate it if you didn't mention this to people!" Mr. Sanders finally said when the class settled down.

  Rose raised her hand. "I'll be happy to keep my mouth shut, but what happened exactly?"

  Mr. Sanders hesitated and Roman saw Virgil, who was still behind in the hall, stiffen up and all joy flicker off his face, his eyes shimmering with an uncomfortable glaze.

  Roman's emotions sizzled softly under his skin and he was about to turn on his friend when Mr. Sanders beat him to it in a much kinder tone.

  "That's something that I think can stay between me and my brother. Sorry, Rose."

  Had Roman been drinking anything it would be long sprayed over the rest of the class.

  Virgil and Mr. Sanders are brothers?! I mean I sort of knew they had the same last name, but I mean so does Bernie Sanders but they're not related!!!

  Roman opened his mouth to voice his disbelief, not catching the horrified look on a small emo boy's face. "Wai-"

  Ding!! Ding!! Ding!!

  Damn that bell.

  "Alright class! That's it for today and don't forget that the syllabus needs to be signed by Monday!!" Mr. Sanders called to his students who were shuffling around the room now, grabbing their books and bags and slowly filing out of the room.

  And swept up in the crowd, Roman lost sight of a purple haired boy with pale skin and pretty blue eyes.

  Roman cursed under his breath but halfway back home he silently blessed that the universe swept the small boy away from him. Virgil had obviously had a trying day. He didn't need a near stranger nagging him for information on his personal life after such a day.

~~•~~

  Virgil could have melted into the ground then and there when Thomas had announced to the whole class that they were brothers. Luckily the bell saved him and before Roman inevitably came looking for him (he had every other time of the day) Virgil slipped into the crowd and disintegrated his presence.

  He slipped into a side hall and watched Roman pass him by, a look of hot disappointment tracing his features. 

  It stung a little to watch, but Virgil could deal with a tinge of regret for a few seconds if it meant he could escape the drama of the day for a breath or two.

  After everyone was out of sight he turned around and went back into the classroom.

  "There you are!" Thomas said happily. "I thought you'd ended up running home. Which would have been fine I mean, it's your choice after all." He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish and sloppy grin plastered on his face awkwardly.

  Virgil nodded. "Yeah it's fine. I want to talk to you about the letters anyway." Sudden realization dawned Virgil's mind and he frantically ran a hand through his hair. "Oh god of course I overlooked things!!"

  "Hey, is everything okay, Virgil?"

  "Yeah...I mean no! I mean- ugh!!" Virgil threw his hood over his head once again. "Mom will freak out if she doesn't know where I am…" He looked up at Thomas who had disappointment glazing his eyes. Virgil tried to correct himself. "Oh!! No no, no I'll just tell her I'm at a friend's house!!" He nodded to himself. "Yeah that will work!"

  Thomas looked at him. "Alright, I'll be in my office cleaning stuff up and then we can go if you're absolutely sure."

  Virgil nodded and pulled out his phone. He opened the messaging app and clicked on his mother's profile picture. He never did like calling people. Even his mom. He'd rather send a text and plan out what he's going to say rather than be put on the spot.

  He typed out a quick message and pressed send. Two seconds later Virgil's phone lit up with the call menu. Mom was written across the top and his mother's smiling face was flashing at him.

  Dammit, mom! Don't you know that texting is easier?!

  He answered the phone bringing the violent buzzing to a stop.

  "Hheeeyyyy mom!" Virgil said awkwardly. Not that his mother noticed apparently.

  "Virgey, honey! Tell me what is it that you're doing?" She sounded genuinely confused and Virgil had to hold himself back from facepalming.

  "Mom, I sent you a text…"

  "Oh I know, baby, it's just that mummy would rather hear it from you and not some computer thing."

  "Mom it's literally the same thing."

  "Oh it is? Oh...Well I wanted to hear your voice anyway!"

  Virgil rubbed the bridge of his nose before returning to the phone. "It's fine mom! I just wanted to go and hang out and study at a friend's house. That's all."

  There was a pause on the line and Virgil knew he'd met his doom. Of course she wasn't going to let him!! He should have just walked straight home and not looked back, he should have-

  "Oh honey!! You've already made friends?!"

  It was like being shot through the skull. Virgil you idiot you don't have any friends. How can you go over to a friend's house if the friends don't fucking exist.

  "Yep!! I've already made a friend!" Virgil lied through his teeth, sweating bullets.

  "Aww!! My baby's growing up and making friends!! What's their name? What are you studying?? Who are they???"

  Shit, shit, shit, fuck, uhhhh….. Virgil thought desperately of someone he could use as a friend. And before he had completed the thought in his mind, his mouth started forming words.

  "Roman Prince." Virgil said confidently.

  Wait fuck no-

  "Oh that's lovely! Well you have fun with your new friend darling dear!! I'm expecting you home by 5:30 for dinner!!" His mother squealed, the way she half sighed half giggled the word 'Friend' sending warm shivers across his cheeks. He knew he didn't have any friends but it wasn't something to swoon over!! Virgil heard the call end and he was left with a hot, embarrassed blush across his face and his mouth open like he was ready to catch something in it.

  "She was overly excited and way too quick to accept it wasn't she?" Thomas asked, coming out of his office with a shoulder bag.

  Virgil shook himself back to the present and nodded his head. "Yeah…"

  "Yep she's like that. Doesn't care where you are but cares way too much about what you're doing. She'll probably try and read any journals you keep tonight. Either that or she won't leave you alone during dinner."

  "She was like that when you were a kid too?"

  "Oh yeah. Deva doesn't seem to have changed much, if I'm being honest. And it's only more clear now why dad left her…"

  "Oh...She's...She's not that bad, is she?"

  "I mean in my opinion yes. But I can't force you to think things."

  "Right…"

  Virgil arrived at Thomas's place after a car ride full of belting out Disney songs as loud as possible and talking about the darker meanings behind each movie, and Virgil just felt that much more comfortable around his brother.

  "And welcome to my humble abode, brother Virgil!" Thomas said theatrically.

  Virgil rolled his eyes. "I see why you're the theater teacher, now."

  Thomas smiled before cupping his hands around his mouth. "GUSS-GUSS, JAQ, I'M HOME!!"

  "You have roommates?"

  "Yeah but they don't pay rent. And they're a mess to clean up after."

  "That doesn't sound like they're good roomies…"

  "Oh they make up for it by being cute."

  Thomas walked up the stairs waving Virgil to follow. He rounded into a room that was sure to be his and flicked on the lights, strutting over to a cage on the far wall.

  Virgil took the time to drink in the room and Thomas' s house. It was nice, and it smelled more like home than "home" ever did to Virgil.

  Thomas returned holding two fluffy objects in his hands. "This is Guss-Guss and Jaq!" He said bubbly. He held out his hands which were clasped warmly and safely around two mice. "Like I said, they make up for not paying rent by being cute!"

  If Virgil didn't have pride he would have cooed and melted at the sight of the puffballs. "Can I…?" He gestured in an odd way that somehow got his point across.

  "Yes! Yes you can hold them!" Thomas was delighted.

  He handed Virgil the two soft rodents and Virgil squeaked in delight, reminiscent of the mice themselves.

~~•~~

  An hour later, after eating leftover cake, watching Thomas try (and fail) to slide down his banister majestically, and talking about emo bands they were (or are in Virgil's case) into, Virgil and Thomas sat on the couch in the living room, Virgil absently feeding Guss-Guss little bits of coconut shavings.

  "So," Thomas began, Jaq falling asleep in his shirt pocket. "You wanted to talk about the letters? What do you want to talk about?"

  "I don't really know…" Virgil confessed. "I guess I just wanted to talk about them to get to know you better, but I don't know...I already feel like I know you." Virgil paused to pick up the mouse in his lap and delicately placed him on his shoulder. "The other thing was that I wanted to answer all the questions you asked me. But it feels silly just listing them off myself, so-"

  "What's your favorite color?" Thomas interrupted Virgil, a faint and warm smile on his face.

  "What?"

  "What's your favorite color? It was one of the first questions I asked in a letter I think." Thomas's words were soft but his eyes were beaming, as if he was the most clever person ever. "So. What's your favorite color?"

  Virgil smiled widely. "Purple!"

  Two hours later Virgil was being dropped off. He had talked the entire time about things they did, stories Thomas had missed out on, and Virgil's interests. It so happened that Thomas shared a lot of them. They almost got caught up talking about Avatar the last airbender for nearly half an hour towards the end of their talk, and still had a million things they wanted to know.

  "Hey drop me off here!" Virgil asked.

  "Why? Your house is still a block away."

  "I know, but I don't want mom to know I was with you."

  "Ah. That makes a little more sense." Thomas pulled over and let Virgil out of the car.

  Virgil did a double take before running up to the drivers side window and reaching through, giving his older brother the best hug he could from where he was.

  "Thanks, Thomas. I'll see you tomorrow!"

  "See you tomorrow, Virge!!" Thomas called out to the purple haired boy.

  Virge… Virgil had never actually been called Virge before. His mother always ended it with a cutesie "y" at the end, making him feel like a toddler.

  He found that he enjoyed the way Virge sounded.

  It suited him.

  He liked it.

~~•~~

  A boy called Deceit sat in his room thinking. He wanted to get the purple haired boy to be his new puppet friend victim. He stood up and crossed his room, fishing a clean notebook out of an all too messy desk, in the process disturbing the bracelets on his wrist causing a hint of a tattoo to catch the light.

  The boy called Deceit panicked and dropped the notebook, slapping a hand down around his wrist. He took a few calming breaths and adjusted his bracelets again. He picked up his notebook and began writing everything he knew about the purple haired boy down.

  He's reserved.

  But not afraid to talk back.

  He's been through shit and I'll put him through hell.

  He seems fairly depressed and easy to manipulate.

  Use that against him.

  Or don't.

  He's drawn to Roman Prince. That's a problem. I can probably fix that with time.

  He's the new drama teacher's little brother. And at least I'm not an idiot like the rest of this dull lot and I know who the new teach is.

  I can use that too.

  A short boy who was called Deceit thought back to Roman Prince and how he was tied up in all of this when a grand idea struck him as he scribbled out what he had previously written about the semi-popular boy.

  Oh I can use that.

  Oh now this will be a fun game to play!!

~~•~~

  Patton got home from school that day, a little sad that he wasn't able to walk home with Logan that day. His boyfriend had said that he wanted to start going to Chess Club as soon as possible and heaven knows that Chess Club is B O R I N G.

  It had been a particularly odd day for Patton, emotions-wise. He had a slight prickle of dread in him for the first half, followed by tiny warm fuzzies that didn't last too long. That was replaced by more dread bubbles that burst into full blown betrayal and regret by the time 6th period was rolling around.

  It had evened out though, Patton felt unusually happy and content for the rest of the day. It had been a weird few days, but it wasn't something he could help.

  Hormones, amiright?

  Patton flopped down onto his bed and sighed happily. It had been a long while since he had been this blissfully content with his life. He glanced over at his fishtank- He was allergic to cats and his parents wouldn't let him have a dog no matter how much he begged, so he settled for fish.

  Fish and dogs were basically the same thing, right? I mean there was such a thing as a catfish so dogfishes must also exist.

  Patton giggled happily to himself as he imagined a fish on a leash, floppy little dog ears sprouting from its scaly head.

  Something felt right.

  Something felt calm.

  It felt like there were going to be good days ahead.

  And Patton couldn't wait to greet them.

Authors notes:

So uh yeah good news. This chapter WASN'T late!! In fact it's EARLY!! Yeah so i got hit with some mad insomnia last night and ended up writing a whole bunch. It's not a long chapter, but i think it's a good break from all the angst. Don't get too comfy though~

Anyway, love you all and stay fresh and minty my shiny folks!! 💛

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[prussianvenom]

Angels Mom

Rhys goes to her buddy Angels house for a college project Only to find out that her buddy's mom is not only a superstar But the superstar Rhys has been idolizing for years

(nsfw)

pls accept this hot garbage

“The teacher is such a dick!”

The brunette kicks over a small trash can in anger, 2 smaller figures following behind her in her warpath.

“Let's be fair Rhys, we do, do every other project or assignment together. It's reasonable for them to separate us.” Vana, bless her tiny heart, speaks sense.

Behind Vana was another smaller, mousier girl who followed with stacks of sketchbooks pressed to her chest.

“I’m sorry you can't work with your friend Rhys, but, I’m sure we can do alright on this project together.”

Rhys’ anger melts away. Now feeling like a complete jackass for being so unwelcoming to their other friend.

“Oh damn, no, sorry Angel, it's not that, I love hanging out with you, it's just. UGH, that guy is such a fucking dick.”

“It was pretty unnecessary to put you guys on the spot like that.”

“And make it seem like we don't have any other friends. What an ass!” Rhys stomps a little further ahead. “Anyways, no sense stewing about it. We should start planning out a schedule and stuff. Do you want to come to our dorm? Get a head start on everything?”

“Oh! Definitely, uh, but my mom is probably preparing dinner right now. If you'd like, I’m sure she’ll make enough for another person. If you don't mind coming over.”

Rhys’ face lit up at the promise of a home-cooked meal in lieu of whatever microwaveable shit she and Vana had in their dingy little dorm room.

“Oh hell yeah, are you on your way now?” Angel nods and Rhys turns to Vana. “Guess I’ll see you later tonite bro. Remember, Project Runways on tonite and I swear to God-”

“I won't tape over your stupid show again, it happened once ok!” Rhys chortles and waves her off and follows the other away.

“Ah, I don't have a car, we live pretty close by. That's ok?”

“Oh totally, good cardio or whatever. But like, wow? This neighborhood is like, ivy league houses. That must be like a small fortune, I didn't know you came from such rich blood.” Rhys jests.

Angel giggles. “I guess heh. Ma worked pretty hard to get where she is.”

“You don't say? Now that I think about it, this is the first I’ve heard you say anything about your family before.”

Angel stops and blinks owlishly at her friend.

“I haven't? Huh. I guess it never came up. I don't think I know much about your or Vanas family either.” Rhys nods in agreement. “In any case, since my mom is gonna be around I should let you know that she can be, a, well, a little eccentric.”

“Eccentric?”

“Bitchy.”

Rhys chokes on a sudden burst of laughter at her friend’s blatant rip on her own mom.

“It's true! I mean, according to a lot of guests we have had. She can be kind of abrasive, blunt. She has like no filter.”

Rhys smiles and turns to focus on the neighborhood. She holds back a gasp. They had wandered into the really, really nice part of town. Borderline mansions painted burgundy and trimmed with gold surrounded them. Bentley's and Mercedes parked delicately on gilded brick runways leading down to the road. Not only were these the people who went to their college, but these were also the people that could own the college if they pleased. The ones who did go to their college brown-nosed and bought their way in by the looks of it. Compared to Rhys and Vana who barely made it in by the skin of their teeth and several scholarships.

“Oh man, I was, I was kidding about the whole rich blood thing. You, you guys are like, loaded loaded.”

Angel deflates.

“I guess so, does that change things?”

“No no no! I didn't mean anything by it, it doesn't change anything at all. It's just, like, people that come from places like this aren't as humble and kind as you.”

Angel smiles wide and flushes under the compliment.

They stop at the biggest and gaudiest estate in the neighborhood. The mansion is hideous. It was yellow, trimmed with black, and topped off with both silver and gold accents. Even the gate to the driveway was overly ornate and encrusted with what Rhys hoped to god wasn't actual diamonds. The whole place exuded ‘fuck you’ money. Why else would go this much overboard unless you wanted people to know how much better they were than you? The disgusting palette tells you that they also didn't give a shit what you thought.

“Dear God,” She cocks her head, pleading with her eyes towards her friend. There's no way, there's no way she lives here. “This loaded?” Her voice strains in disbelief.

Angel grimaces and nods.

“It's bright yellow.”

“I know, as I said. She's eccentric.” She turns and pushes a button on a large porcelain keypad attached to the gate.

“Hello?” A burly deep voice answers.

“Wilhelm! Hi! It's Angel, we got out early today, I have a friend with me. Can you let us in?”

“A guest? Does your mom know?” Angel pouts and bristles.

“Well, no, but she's here to collaborate with me on a project for school, cmon.”

“Right, right. I'll be right out.”

“Your dad?” Angel cringes.

“Ew, no, Wilhelm is a family friend. He works as a sort of overall maintenance, security, assistant sort of guy.”

“Fancy.”

A moment later a big hulking statue of a man comes out from the garage on the far side of the house. Way taller than any dude Rhys had ever seen, covered in grease, and the bone structure that looked like it had been chiseled out of stone. He only appears more hulking as he approaches the gate. A shine catches her eye. They both were missing an arm. They share a small look of admiration towards each other's prosthetic, a silent camaraderie.

“Hey, Angel. How was class today?”

“It was alright, this is Rhys, the one I mentioned a while ago.” Wilhelm grunts in acknowledgment.

“Welcome to the Lawrence home, Rhys.” He greets as he opens the gate just enough to let the pair in.

“That guy is terrifying,” Rhys whispers as soon as they're out of earshot.

“Wilhelm? Oh, he’s a big ol sweetheart, once you get to know him. He’s not the one you need to worry about.” Angel carefully opens the door, closing it behind Rhys to make no sound.

“Angel?” A familiar-sounding husky woman voice calls out and Angel curses under her breath.

“Yeah, it's me Ma. I got a friend with me. Is that gonna be alright?”

“Of course baby,”

Then, sidling around the corner of the open dining room was the last person Rhys had ever expected to see in her lifetime. Hand on her hip, standing in the ray of sun, haloed like a golden goddess, was Rhys’ childhood-adulthood idol.

Jacqueline Lawrence.

An actress a long time in the making, recently made CEO some years ago of her own studio company. Not only that, but before her acting days she was a prodigy in the tech department, making her not only gorgeous but a genius beyond her years.

This woman bit and kicked her way to the top, embedded herself on the silver screen to be remembered and loved for generations to come. Adored and wanted by millions, billions even.

And she was Angel’s goddamn mother.

Rhys, knew, as a fan, that Jaq had a child, but it was always hush hush.

It was Angel.

Dear God

“Well, who’s this then?”

The silver fox approaches the duo, each move, each step, exuding confidence and power. Rhys nearly choked. She was floored, flabbergasted. This couldn't be real. She's never dreamed of being this close to this idol. Even at events she couldn't get this close, couldn't even get within arms reach. Yet here she was, even closer than arms reach. If Rhys reached out she could touch her. She briefly wonders if she’d recognize Rhys from all the events, and kind of hopes that she doesn't. She doesn't want to explain to her dear, dear friend that she's dreamed of meeting her mother since before she was even born.

“I’m, I’m, uh,” Rhys tries and fails to clear her throat. “R-Rhys, my name is Rhys. Ma’am”

Jacqueline bears her teeth in a wolfish grin.

“And what are you in school for huh, Rhysie?”

Rhys feels a cold sweat run down her spine.

“Coding and mechanical engineering ma’am.” Rhys mentally high fives herself for not stuttering, then again when she sees the appeased look on the actress’s face.

“Oh yeah? Did some coding myself back in the day. Little bit before I met Wilhelm. Kind of miss it. Maybe you can catch me up on all the new and improved bits, ey kiddo?” She winks and Rhys’ knees nearly crumple.

“I, I would be honored to miss.” Jaq chuckles and claps Rhys on the shoulder.

“Dear Christ this chick is more skittish than you are Angel!. It's freakin precious! Goodness, gracious. She's like a terrified mouse.”

“I'm just a big fan of your work.”

“Oh?” Jaq grins, and grips Rhys’ shoulder a smidge tighter which causes her to shiver, a reaction misinterpreted.

“Hey, kid, relax a little, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You guys do whatever you need to do, lemme know if you need anything ok?” Jaq then turns to preen her daughter, pinching her cheeks comically before leaving.

The sharp turn throws long tufts of hair in their faces, and Rhys swears she could smell the overpriced conditioner she uses in her wake. She saunters, downright saunters off to where she emerged from and out of sight. The moment she's out of sight Rhys goes to throttle her small friend.

“Hey, Angel, quick question. Why. The. Fuck. Did you not tell me your mom is the goddamn Jacqueline Lawrence!?”

“I, I didn't think it was worth mentioning. I mean, she hasn't been on screen for a good while. Should I have said something?” Angel implores, looking up at Rhys with her big crystally eyes.

How she managed to elude Rhys’ obsession with her mother was astounding. At the same time, she's a bit glad though. There's a chance she wouldn't have invited her over otherwise.

“Just, surprised. Like, really surprised. She's famous, not to mention powerful. Like, make people disappear kind of powerful.”

“Oh, when you put it like that I can see why it could be a little alarming. She's just, never made it out to be a big thing, give me a sort of normal childhood and whatnot.”

“It's ok, crazy. You guys don't even look that much alike.” Angel giggles. “And I was honest back there, I am like a huge freaking fan. I kind of wished you invited me over sooner hehe.”

“Oh? So you can drool all over my mom?”

“No! No no no no, I wouldn't, I would never, I would still hang out with you! That wouldn’t change!”

Angel laughs loudly and gives Rhys a very incredulous look. For a second she could very much see the resemblance of her mother in her. She sets down her stuff and motions for Rhys to follow.

“I’m serious Angel, I do love hanging out with you. She's, she's just, she's my idol.” Angel gives her another dramatically tuned flat look.

“Mhhm, whatever you say, Rhys. You want to set up and get started, I’m going to go take a quick shower ok? Still got art 2’s lesson all over my skin and it's starting to get itchy.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll sketch out some ideas and stuff.”

“Oh, also, don't be a spaz and weird my mom out.” Rhys mocks offense before flipping the bird at the giggling punk.

Rhys makes herself comfortable in the expansive living room. She makes a little setup, a little Rhys area for herself, to start working. She was so busy fucking around with various weird codes on her laptop that she didn’t notice the encroaching presence coming into her area.

“Quite the setup.” Rhys jumps a foot in the air from where she was sitting

Jacqueline laughs obnoxiously loud and plops across the other in a large lounge chair. She lazily swirls a glass of what Rhys assumes is whiskey in one hand, the other playing idly with the armchair. Rhys’s eyes bulge out of her eyes when she takes in Jacqueline's lounging attire. The shirt. The shirt was silk, buttoned-down to just above her navel, it was thin, white, and translucent. Quite translucent. It barely covered her breasts. She could see the caramel tan of her skin through the milky white. A living wet dream if Rhys ever saw one.

“Looking a little flustered there, kiddo. What’s wrong?~”

Jacqueline’s voice was dripping with accusation. It sent shivers racing up and down Rhys’ spine.

“It's, well, I’m a huge fan. And, it’s just, being near you, It’s crazy for me.” Rhys smiles weakly.

Jacqueline’s expression sours and her voice hardens.

“Is that the reason you hanging around my Angel?”

“Oh! Oh no no no no! Not at all. She, she never mentioned that you were her mother until today. We’re good friends. She just doesn’t talk that much about herself.”

Jacqueline smiles something bright and genuine. Though it’s their first meeting, Rhys feels like she’s seeing something rare and sacred.

“That’s good to hear.” She whispers to herself before chuckling low. The chuckles crescendo into full-blown laughter. “Oh man though, your face. Priceless. People, I’m used to them being antsy, but oh boy do you take the cake. Are you always such a spaztastic disaster?”

“No, well, it’s, you’re my idol. I know that must sound crazy. I’ve followed all your works since you’ve come onto the scene. For years I’ve tried my best to be as confident and stunning as you. I'm sorry. This sounds so cringy doesn't it?"

Already arched eyebrows arch higher.

“All my works huh?”

“Yeah?” Rhys swallows thickly. Jacqueline’s grin grows feral.

“Even the ones from my old coding days?”

Rhys’s eyes go saucer wide and her face drains of color.

So...so that’s why Wilhelm looked familiar to her.

“I..I don’t know wha-.” Jacqueline sits up straight, looking like the cat that got the canary.

“Oh my God! You have!” Jacqueline’s teeth exposed, looking Chesire-like, pure giddiness written all over her. “You’ve seen my pornos holy shit!”

“N-no, I, I mean, I-” Rhys wants to hide.

To run, to die, something to get away from this nightmare. Her first actual meeting with her idol AND her friend’s sister, for it to end up like this, there’s no coming back. She felt sick and buried her face into her hands for some solace.

“Aww, no need to be embarrassed. I was quite the bombshell back then, well, I mean, I still am now, you get what I mean. I’ve always been hot as hell. I’m impressed though. Thought I scrubbed every trace of those bad boys. Made sure none of them would see the light of day. You must have done some hard as hell digging to find those relics.

“They, uh, they were...I paid a lot to get some of them.” Rhys says meekly and confused.

“Holy shit, you serious?”

“To be fair, I didn’t know what was on the tapes when I bought them, I was under the impression they were old exclusives.”

“So what then? You only watched a bit?”

Rhys remains frozen and silent.

“Holy shit.” Jaq leans forward into Rhys space. “You watched all of them didn’t ya?” Rhys bites her lip nervously. Jaq gets even closer. “Did ya get off on them Rhysie?” When Rhys doesn’t answer Jaq continues. “Did you touch yourself?”

Jaq whispers it, with almost reverence. Joy in her voice, like a highschooler finding out her friend's crush. She’s not mad, not angry, not anything like Rhys imagined. She’s teasing her.

Rhys’ breath stills and clumps in her throat and chest. She’s on the border of panic and..arousal? She’s not quite sure. The cold sweat returns with a vengeance.

The silence drags on too long for Rhys’ liking, the way it lingers proving Jaq right about her assumptions.

“Ooo, Rhysie, Rhysie. Your silence speaks volumes.” She leans back, satisfied. Her legs spread wide, authority exudes from her broad form. Her aura reeks of smugness. “How would your friend react if she knew you got off to her mom, hm? That you beat off to videos of her mother getting pounded, huh?”

Panic

Jaq was mad. She deemed her an unfit friend. That or she was disgusted with her.

“God, you’re precious. I can smell your fear from over here. It's been a while since I found anyone this amusing.”

“W-...Really?” Confused again, Rhys chokes out a small reply.

Something flickers in Jaqs eyes, the tiniest bit. Something mischievous. She arches her back, shifts the smallest amount so her shirt falls a little more to the side. Rhys feels like her mind is melting. What the fuck is going on?

“Hm? Uh, yeah, you’re cute darling. Charming, in your own spazzy way. Own it. There’s nothing more dull and irritating than a dumb hot chick.”

“Huh? You, you think I’m cute?”

“Yeah I do, I don’t go around blowing smoke up people's asses unless they can back it up. You’re attractive. Hell, if you put some more work into it you could get heads spinning.”

“You think I’m hot?” Rhys is both stunned and highly incredulous.

“Not only am I saying you’re hot, but I’m also saying you’re sexy. Listen, Honey,” Jacqueline puts a foot on Rhys’s thigh, taking her by surprise. “I’m saying a whole lot more than that.” Jaq finally shrugs off the rest of the shirt, exposing herself to the other woman.

Rhys’s mouth is both dry and wet. If that’s even possible.

“So listen. Mama here hasn’t had any fun as of late. Would you like to change that for me Rhysie?~”

“But, but, what about Angel?” The protest felt weak even coming out of her mouth as she leaned against the foot and towards the woman.

“It’s pretty scummy of me ain’t it?” Jacqueline grins wickedly. “You can say no Cupcake...Just so you know, regardless of what she says, her showers always take half an hour or more. She wouldn’t catch us.”

“We...We shouldn’t.” Rhys has to force the words out.

“Ohhh, but when will you get the chance again?” She lazily draws a line across her chest down to the hem of her pants.

That was the straw to the camel's back for little ol Rhys. The brunette throws away the rest of her inhibitions and lurches at the woman. She shoves her face eagerly between the star’s breasts and grabs them by the handfuls. Jacqueline laughs at Rhys’s enthusiasm and tangles her hand in the silky brown hair. Rhys moans at the little tugs she's given as she sucks and licks the others tits.

“Ooh, hehehe. That didn’t take a lot of convincing did it, huh?”

Rhys doesn’t respond to the jab, just grunts as she licks a nipple into her mouth. Jacqueline purrs and tightens her grip in Rhys’s hair. Rhys whimpers and opens her mouth to moan, drooling onto Jaqs chest.

“You’re a sloppy little bitch yknow that?” Rhys whines against Jacqueline’s warm flesh. She rises on her knees to further bury her flushed face away. “Ohoho. Sounds like somebody enjoys a little demeaning.~”

Rhys looks up at the older woman with big glossy mismatched eyes. Embarrassment etched hard unto her young features.

“I-I-”

“Shh doll, I ain’t judgin.” Jaq waves dismissively and peers down at the other. “Besides, you’ve seen all the crazy shit I got into and got off to. No need to be coy.”

Her hand yanks Rhys head back with a jolt. Jacqueline leans in and kisses the center of Rhys’s throat and whispers. “Let go Babydoll. Go on and tell me what you want.

Rhys’s breath comes out in loud broken gasps.

“I wanna...I wanna taste you. Want to make you feel good.” Rhys manages to get through harsh staccato breaths.

“Oh? Fan of carpet munching are ya?”

Jaq leans back and spreads her thighs to accommodate the other. She waves her hand in a gesture to give Rhys the go-ahead. The brunette tentatively grasps powerful thighs. She takes a moment to savor the heat coming off her before going for the zipper. Jacqueline follows the movement with her eyes. Lifts her hips for the younger to peel off the jeans. Smiling, taunting, as Rhys’ pale hand snakes over her thighs, shaking and nervous. Yellow satin panties, expensive no doubt, was the last thing that stood in Rhys’s way. The last barrier to a fantasy she had been living out in her head for almost a decade now.

Jacqueline picks up on Rhys increasing tension and guides Rhys’s hands to the cloth.

“Don’t mean to be a bitch here cupcake, but huh,” Rhys’s hand is pushed against the crotch of the panties. “ Can we get on with it?”

Rhys nods her head frantically and pulls the golden fabric down toned legs. It was a lot for her to take in. Her idol, the centerpiece of her infatuation, was sitting naked in front of her, legs spread, wet cunt right there for the taking. Rhys had to take a moment to thank whatever God allowed this to happen.

Rhys carefully leans forward and licks between her lips. Jaq bucks up into the contact.

“Stop pussyfooting,” Jacqueline growls. “Get on with it.”

Jaq fists Rhys hair again in an attempt to bring the other in closer. A shame. Rhys wants to take her time though. Regardless of the sensitive time situation they’ve been handed. She wanted to live it out to the fullest, remember every little detail. The knuckles against her scalp insisted otherwise. The first real violent tug of hair had Rhys jaw unhinged and moaning loudly. The noise vibrated against the others clit, eliciting a delicious reaction. Jacqueline rolls towards the sensation and chirps.

“Oooh, there we go!~” Jaqs voice was dripping with sex and mirth. “You dirty masochistic bitch.”

Rhys whimpers, drags her tongue flat against her clit, closes her lips around the nub, and sucks hard. Jaq swears and grinds her pussy against the student’s face.

“Finally~ That’s a good girl.”

Rhys whimpers at the honeyed purr. Her hand itches to palm the seat of her pants. Something to ease her own need. Rhys decides against it, this was more about Jacqueline than anything else. The woman in question is humming languid moans while she continues to fiddle and thread Rhys’ mangled hair.

Jaq shifts her leg. Then again. Rhys doesn't pay attention. Figures she's trying to get comfortable and whatnot, that is, until she feels the heel of her foot press against her inner thigh. She detaches from Jaqs cunt when the pressure slides to her crotch. She gasps roughly when the older woman grinds her foot roughly against her. Rhys collapses unto Jacqueline's knee.

“You are a cute little thing Rhysie.” She jerks the young woman by her hair, pulling her back into a straight position.

“C’mon darling.”

Rhys feels tears building in the corner of her eyes. This was becoming increasingly too much for her. It was overwhelming. Rhys tries to yank herself out of her grip. She feels frantic, desperate to get back to what she was doing. Jaq lets her drop and Rhys eagerly pushes her face back in between the actress’s thighs. Tongue delving back in, this time straining to push it in as far as it goes.

“H, Hey Rhys,” Jaq breathes out hotly. “You gotta be dying down there. Go, go wild baby.” She slides her calves up in between Rhys’s thighs. Rhys catches on after a dull moment. She glances up at matching heterochromatic eyes, searching for any signs of deceit. Jaq sighs and rolls her eyes dramatically. She fists her hand against Rhys scalp, the tightest she's gripped this whole time, and pulls so violently that Rhys feels strands rip out.

“I want you to get off against my leg Rhys. I want you to rut against my leg like the little bitch in heat you are. Show me. Show me what a pathetic and desperate slut you are. I want you to do all that while eating me out. Do you understand me, you fucking whore? Show me how big of a fan you are.”

Rhys is frantic now. Her whole body feels like there's a live current going through her. Jacqueline's words have her reeling. Her throat was too dry and her mouth was too wet. She nods dumbly and quickly. Her technique is sloppier and quicker with the addition of her embarrassing humping. She clamps the calf in her thighs, one of her spare hands gripping the meat of her leg with an iron grasp. The contact is a wave of relief for the student. She's already keyed so far up to the edge she fears she won't be able to hold on for more than a couple of minutes of frotting.

The situation is beyond surreal.

Jaq laughs airily. Just as breathless as Rhys at this point.

“Fuc-Fucking disgusting. Like a goddamn d-fuck-dog. God.~ You love it don't you,” Jacqueline looks at her with almost reverence. “Love being a disgusting needy little girl huh?~ Love being treated like a worm? Like dirt?” Jacqueline's words were rough, barely there, overshadowed by gruesome thrusts against Rhys’s face.

Rhys whined. The words bounced around her skull like a malfunctioning pinball machine. It left her too hot, too wet, and too horny to think or care about anything else. The stimuli has tears near spilling down her ruddy cheeks.

“God, you even like being talked down to. That's so goddamn pathetic.” Jacqueline moans through a cruel laugh. “You’re even crying.” She titters with delight.

Rhys realizes she's right with a sob. The tears had started to stream down her hot, hot face. She could only imagine how she looked to her idol right now. Hair in disarray, face red and covered in tears and sweat, whining grossly, all while sloppily fellating her and humping her leg like a dog.

She couldn't deny any of it either. Every word, every hurtful syllable, was right. They were doing it for her. Doing it for her so deliciously. They only added to the hot pool in her belly threatening to spill. Through trial and error, inspiration drawn from Jaqs seedy movies, she had found she was indeed, a little more, if not completely into, being degraded and punished.

Rhys feels the time biting away at their heels, they need to finish this off, and soon.

Unfortunately.

She uses her robotic hand to thumb against the older woman's clit. The cold untouched metal makes the actress jump and gasp. She giggles in unfound glee, like she had just discovered something new about herself.

“That's it! That's a good girl~.”

Rhys didn't know if it was how she sounded or if she also responded well to praise, but she drooled more. She curls her tongue and speeds up her movements with her thumb. Jacqueline arches her back and throws her head into the plush cushions of the chair.

“F-fuck, faster. Faster, kid.” Jacqueline had abandoned her hair and was now pulling at her shoulders.

Rhys lets her grip with her flesh hand go and pushes 2 fingers in along with her tongue. She could feel now, how hot and wet the tan woman's pussy was. She could feel the fine ridges of muscle spasming and clenching deliciously around her fingers.

Jacqueline holds back a shout. She plants her feet on the ground and buck into the stimulus with wild abandon. Her hands hold Rhys’ head down as she finally and abruptly comes. Rhys makes a high pitch sound to accompany Jaq’s gleeful growl.

Once she goes slack into her armchair Rhys hastily shoves her hand into her pants to rub her need. She barely manages to get her hand into underwear in her rush. She was soaking through the cotton. She was wet, so very wet. She vaguely recalls hearing Jaq groan above her.

“Well, ain't that a pretty sight. You close cupcake?” Rhys nods, absentmindedly aware of the words coming out of her mouth. “You gonna come without even thanking me for all this?”

Rhys doesn't even pause her manic frotting when she lays her cheek on Jaqs bare leg. She rises to her knees, so she can slip a finger into her hot pussy.

“Y, yes, thank you. Thank you so, so much miss.” Jaq laughs.

“For what?”

“ Thank you, thank you for l-letting me eat you out, miss.” Jacqueline hums happily. Pleased.

She grabs Rhys by the short hairs on her neck to tear her off her knee. She knocks the younger woman to the floor, rises to tower over her. Before Rhys can react Jacqueline's hand comes to wrap around her throat. The sudden vice forces Rhys to stare into Jaqs predatory gaze. She looked even more feral than before. Running her tongue over her teeth and lips, she looks down on her like a hungry wolf.

“Come,” Rhys body jerks at the command. “Come for me, Rhys.” The fingers around her throat tighten ever so slightly.

The sudden cut off from air has Rhys’ eyes rolling into the back of her head and her body rippling with new sickening pleasure. Her body tightens up violently. Her hands stutter and shake as they try to keep up with the high that hits her like an off railed roller coaster.

When her body finally stops convulsing Jacqueline drops her like a sack of bricks. While she lay there, capturing her stolen breaths, the other straightens up and goes back to redressing. She does it slowly, contemplatively. Maybe it's because of the post-orgasmic hue, or the high from lack of air, or even because the dream-like state of it all, but Rhys found herself taking in the mundane movements with newfound reverence. The smooth calculated way she buttoned the silk shirt back up without fail. The modeled pose of her body as she leans down to retrieve her pants and underwear. The almost sinful way she pulls them back up smooth tan legs. It makes her want to undress all over again.

Jacqueline smiles when she turns back towards the puddle of woman that was Rhys. She sighs and straddles the destroyed woman. The expression almost looks like one of sympathy.

“Hey princess, you still there?” Rhys nods,” You should fix yourself up. Wouldn't want your friend to see you looking like a two-bit whore.”

She tries to smooth down the mess she had made of Rhys’s hair, to no avail. Rhys experiences the intimate touch through a fog, but she holds unto to it as much as she can before it's gone. Jaq frowns when the hair doesn't quite cooperate with her. It wasn't perfect but at least she didn't look like someone was trying to tear her hair out anymore. She grimaces again and wipes Rhys’s mouth and chin with her sleeve. A sleeve to a shirt that probably costs more than Rhys’s entire outfit. It was a very motherly touch, Rhys thinks warmly.

“God, you look like a dog. Do you always slobber so much?” Jacqueline stands back up and gestures Rhys to finish fixing herself up.

“N, no. I don't think so.” Rhys mumbles, finally coming back to reality.

“Like, for real. Do you give blowjobs like that? Or do you skip the middleman and spit on the guys' dick. Jee-”

While Jacqueline continues spouting some convoluted and insulting monologue Rhys carefully stands. She was still out of it. She felt like a newborn deer finding their footing. This had all happened and ended so quickly it feels as though it almost never happened at all. Why had it happened? Was something Jaq did often? Rhys feels as if she would know, given the tabloid’s involvement in the entertainers' life. Why Rhys of all people?

Rhys regards her mutely in the dim light coming through the windows. Her berating voice a smooth white noise.

She was beautiful.

Rhys had always thought so, long before any fragments of a crush began to form. She was an ideal. Even while she portrays herself as crude and unforgiving, an icy queen to be trifled with. Even now while she picks on the person she just accosted for sex.

But

She was never supposed to be attainable though. Nothing more than a perfected idol. Never more than a dream.

Rhys' heart twists uncomfortably in her chest.

“Ms. Lawrence?” Jaq turns, a cigarette loosely hanging from her lips, brows arched. “What…” Rhys fidgety plays with her sleeve. “What was this?”

Jacqueline's frowns and turns solemn. Quietly she lights it and takes a long thoughtful drag. She lets the silence grow and fester as she billows out smoke around her. With a cigarette between long fingers, she approaches Rhys. She gives Rhys an authentic smile and leans up to kiss the brunette softly. It felt out of character for the other. There was no heated fervor, no urgency. It was so delicate. Gentle. A kiss you give to a leaving lover.

It causes the uncomfortable feeling in Rhys’ chest to double. It makes her chest feel hot and sickeningly heavy.

“It can be what you need it to be.” Jacqueline delicately holds Rhys face in her hands. “A fling, a dumb wet dream, an anonymous letter to penthouse forums, whatever. But, above all, Rhys, it needs to be our secret.”

“Our secret?”

“Just for you.” A door shuts upstairs and both women startle. Jaq turns dead stoic and holds Rhys’ chin firmly.

“If she finds out, or if you hurt her, I’ll slit your goddamn throat, capiche?” Jaq winks playfully.

Footsteps approach down the stairs. Jacqueline moves to distance herself from Rhys, who hurriedly goes back to her spot.

“Mom! What did I say about smoking inside! You know how much it agitates Tammy’s asthma.” Angel chirps as she emerges back into the living room. Jaq rolls her eyes at the name.

“It's my own house,” Jaq mumbles. “But I guess I’ll go outside. Wouldn't want to upset Tamithas delicate lungs.” Jaq waves and leaves once again.

Angel shakes her head and plops down next to Rhys.

“She didn't bother you, did she? I told you she can be well, from what I’ve been told, a bitch.” Angel whispers and giggles.

Rhys still dumbfounded by what had taken place in the last hour and a half, shook her head no. Jacqueline's parting words between the two of them still echoed in her head.

A secret. Just for Rhys.

“Uh, no, she was giving me some insight into some code I was working on.”

“Oh yeah? That's great. She's usually not so nice to guests. It's good to see she hasn't run you off.” Angel laughs.

A secret.

yeehaw

[kin-kendry]

Solace

CW: Violence/Murder

AO3

----------

“He’s safe now,” Aneela spoke as they took off through the woods again, leaving the cube behind them.

“Are you sure?” While Kendry trusted the other woman with her life, she didn’t want to underestimate the Lady.

“Well, the cube kept me safe when the Green was destroyed. There are only three people in the entire universe who can access them.”

“And what makes you think that Khlyen wouldn’t find out and lead her directly to him?”

“Papa wouldn’t do that… Not after everything. He kept Yala safe, after all,” Aneela didn’t sound so convinced herself, but she had to hold out hope.

They walked side by side through the trees in silence for hours. The crunch of fallen leaves and twigs, and the gentle breeze rustling the trees became white noise.

Delle Seyah felt like she could finally breathe again. Jaq was safe, and Aneela was back with her. She wasn't dead. While she didn't show it in front of Jaq, Kendry had been heartbroken when she found out that the Killjoys returned without Aneela.

Queens don't cry, remember? Jaq had parroted her words.

This one does, now. She’s a teeny bit broken.

She had cried, several times in fact, while Jaq had slept. Seyah Kendry crying after losing the one woman she loved, the only one she trusted in the universe? Illenore would be laughing in her grave… 

"Kendry?" Aneela's gentle voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Delle Seyah had stopped walking without realising, and a lone tear track marked her left cheek. She swallowed the lump in her throat and her eyes focused on the woman in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I… I just thought… Gods, I thought I lost you for good," Delle Seyah sighed, suddenly feeling physically and emotionally exhausted.

"I'm here, Kendry. You don't have to worry anymore. I won't ever leave you again, and I will protect you," Aneela said, holding her partner's hands in her own. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Kendry collapsed into Aneela's arms. There was an intense need to be held by her, to be as close as possible. It wasn't something she would have ever thought herself capable of feeling or craving. But here she was, eyes glassy and slumped in her beloved's arms. 

"Oh, Kendry. Let's set up camp. You need to rest."

Aneela sat Delle Seyah down on a fallen tree while she began clearing leaves and other forest debris. Not long after, a camp fire was crackling as the sun set and a bedroll was laid out.

"I missed you so much, you know?" Aneela finally spoke once she set herself down next to Kendry, sitting so that they were pressed against each other. 

Delle Seyah was feeling uncharacteristically clingy, so she rested her head against Aneela's shoulder. It made her feel a little better knowing that Aneela was thinking of her even during such a stressful, life threatening time. 

"All I could think about once the Green started crumbling was you and Jaq. For a while I didn't think I'd make it. But you both found me. Jaq, he… He looks so much like me when I was younger. I see Yala in him too. But his personality… He has the same conviction. The same hunger for answers, and a brilliant mind just like his mother."

"Unfortunately he's picked up a lot of the Jaqobis traits," Kendry let out a derisive laugh. 

"I'm sure we can fix that when all of this is over," Aneela smirked.

"When all of this is over I'd like to take you to my home on Qresh. Show you where I grew up. We could rule together, if you're okay with settling with control over the Quad rather than the entire universe."

"Hmm, that sounds like a very tempting offer. I'm not really interested in dominating the universe anymore. I've got more important things in my life now," Aneela tilted Kendry's chin up before pressing their lips together in a tender kiss. “It’ll be good to see my old home planet.”

The two women relaxed against each other, the tension and exhaustion of the past few days melting away. Aneela could help but laugh as she pulled away.

"I still find it so odd that you're human again."

"I can tell you now that it is the worst," Delle Seyah grumbled.

"I'll have to do some tests first, but if you like I could try to convert you again."

"Oh, please. Feeling things, being so vulnerable… It's humiliating."

"And yet, you've proven to be strong and capable even without Hullen blood."

"Yes, well, I suppose survival is what humans are best at, despite everything," Kendry sighed.

Their conversation came to a natural end, and they just sat in silence, watching the sun set until the only sources of light were the moon and their camp fire. They settled down on their bedroll, wrapped in each others arms. Delle Seyah felt safe for the first time since Aneela freed her from that contraption Gander kept her in. Their faces were only centimetres apart. Kendry smiled and cupped Aneela's jaw.

"I love you, Aneela."

"And I love you, Kendry. Now sleep. I know you're tired."

Delle Seyah couldn't have protested if she tried. Her eyes wouldn't stay open and her body was already preparing for sleep. She felt fingers card through her hair, and Aneela's nails massaging her scalp. It was so soothing.

"Good night, little bird," Aneela's voice sounded far away as sleep enveloped Kendry in darkness.

----------

Aneela couldn’t sleep. They were exposed where they set up camp, and she already had time to rest while in hiding. Feeling Kendry’s body rise and fall with her even breaths brought comfort to her. It was a cool, cloudy night and the wind had picked up a little. Their campfire was reduced to a low smolder, so the only source of light was the moonbeams peeking through the clouds. It was calm, and calm didn’t settle well with Aneela.

Had she been less vigilant, Aneela would have missed the almost imperceptible rustle of leaves on the forest floor. The footsteps came closer until they were looming over the two prone bodies. A hand reached out slowly, ready to peel the blanket off the two women. Aneela opened her eyes and gripped the outstretched wrist, snapping it back until she heard bones crack. The potential assailant howled in pain and stumbled back, cradling their hand. Aneela jumped up, jostling Kendry as she did so. Delle Seyah gasped as she sat up, her eyes trying to track whatever was going on. But it was so dark and she could barely make out the five silhouettes. 

Aneela heard the sound of a bullet flitting past her and whirled around to face the next threat. She charged towards assailant, taking one shot to her side before gripping the handgun and crumpling it in her hand. The clouds above shifted and moonlight shone down in streaks upon the camp. Aneela could see that the bandits were covered in pelts and bones, with human skulls worn as helmets. She grinned as the current woman she was focused on cowered at the display of inhuman power. One of the others took a shot at Aneela, blasting clean through her shoulder. The wound healed instantly.

Aneela grabbed the woman by the throat and whipped her around to use as a meat shield. Another shot was fired, piercing through the bandit’s stomach. She shoved the limp body towards the third bandit before turning on the first one she injured.

“Wh-What are you?” The man asked, backing himself up against a tree.

“I’m your worst nightmare. You and your friends thought you found an easy target. Well, you’ve made a very big mistake,” Aneela hissed, her eyes wide and wild.

Aneela ripped one of the pointed bones from the man’s clothing and stabbed him several times in the neck, relishing in the gurgling as he choked on his own blood. The two remaining bandits were already on the run. Aneela grabbed Kendry’s bow and two arrows. She fired both off quickly, each hitting their targets and incapacitating them. The bandits cowered as Aneela approached, their arms and legs too weak to carry them very far. She stomped on their calves and drew a knife from her belt, the polished metal glinting in the moonlight.

“P-Please… We won’t cause anymore trouble. Let us go,” One of them begged.

“I can’t let you do that,” Aneela’s voice was quiet. “I’ve had a trying few days, and I need to let off some steam.”

“Oh god, no! Please no!” The other bandit attempted to escape again, but Aneela was quick.

She kicked the bandit in the face and crushed his neck with her boot, watching as he struggled. The hands clawing at the leather of her boot grew weaker and weaker as the human suffocated, eyes rolling into the back of his head. The other bandit had curled up on the forest floor, weeping and clutching his calf.

“Only one left. Whatever shall I do with you?” Aneela mused aloud as she played with the knife in her hands. “I could spare you, but then you’d run off and tell the rest of your group what happened. I already killed your friends, so I may as well just finish off the job.”

“Aneela, enough,” Delle Seyah’s voice echoed out through the trees as she approached her love.

“Kendry! Have you finally come to join me?” Aneela’s face lit up as she turned to the other woman.

“No, you need to stop this right now,” Delle Seyah wasn’t playing around.

She stopped directly in front of Aneela, looking her up and down. Her pristine white clothes were splattered with blood, and there were a few drops across her face from when she stabbed one of the bandits. Kendry sighed and shook her head, taking the knife from her beloved’s hands.

“I don’t understand,” Aneela frowned. “They tried to attack us. I was protecting you.”

“I know, but being cooped up in a cube for days doesn’t mean you get to massacre everyone in sight,” Kendry said before walking over to the remaining bandit and offering her hand to the poor soul. “Get up. This is the only chance you’re getting.”

The bandit was beyond terrified but took the kind offer, letting Delle Seyah haul him up on to his good leg. As he opened his mouth to express his gratitude, Kendry gripped his head and bared his throat. She made quick work of the man, slitting his neck and dumping him back on the ground. Aneela’s expression morphed from annoyed to confused, and finally settled on a mix of delight and lust.

“But- Why?”

“I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun now, was I?” Kendry smirked as she leaned down to wipe the blood off the knife on the bandit’s pelt. “You didn’t seriously think I’d changed, did you?”

“Oh, Kendry…” Aneela laughed in relief while Kendry tucked the knife back into her belt.

“I enjoyed watching you take down those pathetic ants. You know I love it when you get mad,” Kendry’s voice lowered into a sultry whisper, closing the gap between them.

“I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been itching to hurt something,” Aneela’s hands clenched and unclenched as she took a couple of slow, calming breaths.

“I think I know of a better way to release some of that pent up energy, Aneela.”

Kendry lips grazed Aneela’s and her hands moved to her hips. The kiss was passionate and demanding, both women running on adrenaline from their recent activities. A heady concoction of murder and lust was something Aneela and Delle Seyah found themselves experiencing every now and again, and it made for fucking phenomenal sex. They drew back from the kiss, both breathing heavily and gazing into each others darkened eyes. Aneela caressed Delle Seyah’s jaw, her touch soft and light.

“Gods, I’ve missed you, Kendry.”

[miqojak]

“Sometimes when you meet someone, there’s a click. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I believe in that click.” A'rabeka looks over at Jaq, swirling the whiskey still in her glass, her dark plum colored eyes shining mischievously in the bar light..."Sshho, which click ish it? The hammer locking back? or the Hammer dropping", the tipsy Miqo'te began to giggle enough at her own words, she had to set her glass down or spill what whiskey was left...

The glint in the calico’s eyes isn’t emotion, but the low-light, reflective glare of a feline’s gaze that flashes but briefly, as she adjusts in her seat. “Clever analogy, in spite of the alcohol. S’pose I’d call it the hammer locking back - it’s raw gut instinct. There’s gambles worth taking, and ones I won’t bother with. More risk, more reward, I say.” There’s a lean, and a reach for what’s left of the other’s whiskey, with this.

[jumpship90]

Flufftober, Day 1 - Winning a Teddy for the Other

I'm going to be attempting to write something for most of the @flufftober2021 prompts list this month. All fics will be for Jaq and Phineas and I'm intending to set some in the various AU's I'm working on.

“Better luck next time bud!” the moustachioed stallholder called, giving a jaunty wave to the young men grumbling and shuffling away, their pockets lighter on bits and their pride clearly dented by their poor showing.

Jaq had been eyeing the shooting gallery with interest whilst Phineas worked his way to the front of the queue for candyfloss. Like most games at Fallbrook fair, it was quite clearly rigged. Not one person had come away with a prize yet and the sympathetic commentary of the big man leaning on the counter was accented with a gleeful smile. His chuckle cut through the thump and rattle of the nearby amusements and Jaq rolled their eyes as another group of hapless young Byzantine tourists, dressed in their finest attempts at outlaw attire, jostled for a turn.

“Thinking of giving it a try?”

Jaq turned to see Phineas stood beside them, a smirk arching his lips and a great flock of candyfloss the size of his head and precisely as fluffy as his hair clutched in one hand. He munched happily on it as he nodded towards where the crack of the pellet rifles was sounding again.

“It’s a fix,” Jaq said, taking a bite of the proffered floss. The sticky, sugary fibres melted on their tongue and flooded their mouth with purpleberry.

“Of course,” Phineas replied, linking his arm through theirs once more and tucking in closer to their side as a particularly raucous group of individuals made their way past. “But then you are especially talented when it comes to beating the odds.”

Jaq grinned at that and puffed out their chest. Well, maybe it was worth a go?

“Step right up, step right up! Try your hand at felling the fearsome beasts of the wildlands and you could win a prize!” the stallholder boomed. His gaze met Jaq’s for a second and his arms sprung wide. “Say, you there! You look like a marksman if ever I’ve seen one! Think you can win a prize for your silver-haired gentleman?”

Phineas snorted at that. “Well, dear?” he asked, an eyebrow raised at them.

Jaq stepped up to the counter, digging about in their pocket for a frankly obscene amount of bits. The stallholder grinned as they lifted the rifle, fitting the wooden stock firmly against their shoulder and peering down the sight at the miniature mantisaur cut-outs that served as targets. There were three rows of them, all lined up against a backdrop painted the colour of the Monarch sky. Most barely appeared to have a scratch.

“You’ve got six shots. The more beasties you down, the bigger your prize!”

There was a sparkle in the man’s eye as he shifted out of the way, confidently swaggering to the side. Jaq glanced to Phineas. He gave them a thumbs up as he munched away at his cloud of candyfloss.

The first shot pulled just right of the centre target, clipping the edge as Jaq overcompensated for the rigging they’d observed. The barrel must have been tampered with, they thought, as they watched the pellet ping off the backdrop and roll in the dirt. Well, now they knew the score, they could work with this.

The second shot struck right in the centre of the snarling face of the mantisaur, sending the target toppling off the stand. A triumphant laugh sounded from behind them.

Within thirty seconds the rest of the targets had been felled and a beaming Phineas was patting them on the back. Jaq tried their best not to look smug as they replaced the rifle and watched the disgruntled stallholder re-setting his game.

“So, which one do you want?” they asked, eyeing the bundles of stuffed animals hanging below the dancing lights of the sign. The opportunity to present Phineas with a fluffy sprat had them feeling inordinately pleased with themself.

“Perhaps that one?” Phineas suggested, pointing out primal stuffy that looked considerably cuter than any wild ones Jaq had ever encountered. “I think he’d make a rather nice mascot to sit on my desk.”

“Oh no, no, no,” the stallholder said with a tight grin. “You’ve won our top prize – Rocky the raptidon!”

Jaq frowned. There weren’t any raptidon toys in amongst the prizes they could see. There was only the giant mascot wearing a cowboy hat that sat atop the stall. But that was nearly the same size as they were, that couldn’t possibly be . . . oh law, no.

“It’ll make a wonderful feature!” Phineas said in delight as Jaq lugged the gigantic stuffed toy back through town and towards the landing pad. They were garnering wide-eyed looks and stifled giggles as they wrestled with the ridiculous raptidon, its gigantic paws slung around their shoulders so they could at least attempt to see where they were going.

“It’s about the size of our sofa,” they said, the words muffled by faux-fur. There was no way it was going to fit in their room – in fact, it was going to need its own cabin aboard the Unreliable.

“Yes, and Bubbles will love it!” Phineas proclaimed and patted their arm with a hand sticky with candyfloss residue. He peered around the toy to affectionately peck their cheek and Jaq decided they probably could just about find space for their new acquisition.

[truthbeetoldmedia]

Killjoys 4x10 "Sporemageddon" Review

“Hello, boys,” says the woman on the floor, but not in Dutch’s voice. D’avin and Johnny exchange glances and realize as she continues to speak that it’s Aneela who’s picking herself up off the floor. Pree approaches, asking if Dutch is alright, and Aneela brushes a hand along his cheek, excited to finally meet the bartender. D’avin and Johnny claim that she’s just drunk, and hustle her out of the Royale before anyone else realizes something strange is going on. They bring her to Lucy, where she reveals that she and Dutch have switched bodies, much as D’avin and Khlyen did, and Aneela needs the green pool they stole from the Lady to go back into the green with them and get Dutch out. D’avin and Johnny aren’t so sure, though, and ask her what the green really is, if it’s a real place. Aneela grabs a beaker off a table, asks them if it’s real, and then smashes it against the wall. She tells them that it’s gone now, but points out that they can still picture it whole, as it was, and broken, as it is now. “That is where we’re going. The green is a living repository of universal memory; a trans-dimensional space that records everything, where nothing is forgotten.” She also reveals that the green itself isn’t what Hullenizes people — it’s the Lady who does that. Aneela and Dutch needed to switch places because Dutch couldn’t get into the green by herself, and Aneela needs D’avin because of his powers over the green.

“We’re all made of memories. But memories aren’t just where you’ve been. They’re who you are. And if I own that, I own you. And when I’m out of here, little flea, I will own everyone.” In the green, Dutch (still wearing Aneela’s signature outfit and braid) is running from the Lady, who is morphing between appearances — first Khlyen, then Johnny, then D’avin, and Delle Seyah. As she crests a hill, she spots a red box, like Khlyen used to leave for her. It’s empty, but she tucks it under her arm nonetheless and keeps moving.

On the Armada, Turin isn’t so sure about “Dutch’s” plan to go into the green. He wants some more details about the plan, reminding the trio that it is still his ship. Aneela barely manages to keep her anger in check at hearing him claiming her ship as his own, but when D’avin and Johnny “remind” her about how they blew up the RAC to save everyone and stop the Lady, she restrains herself and thanks “Turzin” for his sacrifice with a creepy smile and a less-than-convincing accent. Aneela strides off toward the lab with the Jaqobis brothers at her heels, as Turin furrows his brow. Zeph is in the lab running tests on the green, and orders the three out when they walk through the door. Aneela asks Johnny and D’avin why they let their “underling” talk to them like that (she’s seriously bad at this whole acting thing). When Zeph asks why Dutch is talking like that, Turin walks through the door with several Killjoys and says that she’s not Dutch, she’s Aneela Kin Ritt. After all she’s done — murdering Alvis, destroying 3 RAC stations, and attempting to wipe out the people of Westerly — he’s about ready to execute her himself.

D’avin and Johnny pull their guns on Turin, knowing that Dutch’s survival depends on Aneela’s, but Aneela and Zeph ignore the standoff that’s happening and talk logistics. If the woman is Aneela in Dutch’s body, how can she bring anyone into the green? Aneela explains that the plasma operates on a sub-atomic frequency, similar to radio waves, and she can manipulate it mentally despite Dutch not being Hullen. And not only has she accounted for D’avin’s anti-plasma properties, she’s banking her plan on it. Turin is still not about to let Aneela escape into the green after what she’s done, so D’avin gives him the anti-plasma spore to use in case Aneela is playing them after all. He doesn’t trust Aneela, but he does trust Turin. Turin reluctantly agrees, and Aneela gets to work. She creates a temporary antidote to D’avin’s plasma-repulsion properties, surprising him with a needle in the brain stem, and tells him that once they’re in the green and the Lady attacks, he’ll need to be ready to utilize his powers to counter her. He just has to keep her occupied long enough for them to get to Dutch and get out. Johnny’s still not happy about the idea of being left behind, but Aneela tells him he’s not needed — in the green, the Lady can use everything you care about against you, so it’s not a good idea to have both of the brothers in there together. D’avin assures her that they know that the Lady can use family against you, which is why they all had removed Jaq’s location from their memories. Aneela blinks and asks, “who’s Jaq?” and the Jaqobis brothers realize that she doesn’t know about her son. Johnny starts to fill her in, but she cuts him off — if she doesn’t know anything about him, the Lady can’t use him against her. D’avin leans over the pool of plasma, asking how they’re going to do this, and Aneela shoves him in.

As D’avin comes to consciousness in the green, the world shakes around him, and his eyes darken. He’s on Lucy, and Dutch walks through the door in just a shirt, holding a bottle of hokk. Just as he did the first time this happened, D’avin attacks Dutch. As we watch the fight that has already happened, we hear Aneela saying, “The Lady will use everything against us; our greatest fears, our worst moments.” We then switch perspective to Johnny, who didn’t take Aneela’s no for an answer, and is back in the Royale, watching Delle Seyah and Pawter sign the agreement, just before Delle Seyah stabs Pawter. Johnny runs to her side, pressing against the wound, then fights off the fake Scarbacks so that he isn’t forced from her side like he was when this really happened. D’avin snaps back to himself as “Dutch” snickers evilly, and he runs away down Lucy’s hall. We then see Aneela lying on the floor of the forest, Dutch gently waking her. It seems they’ve swapped bodies back, and as Dutch helps Aneela up, Aneela tells her that they have to find the boys. She then spots the red box, and when Dutch tells her it was empty when she found it, she opens it anyway — it seems the box was intended for her, as it now contains an apple. Aneela tells Dutch she can hold the Lady off until Dutch finds the boys, stroking her cheek and saying “be brave.” Dutch echoes the rest of the line from the Season 3 finale, saying to Aneela, “be brutal.” As Dutch runs off, the Lady appears behind Aneela, in Delle Seyah’s skin.

The Lady takes Aneela into the ruins, asking her if she isn’t tired of all the running and fighting. She has a proposition for them, and is using Delle Seyah’s face to get Aneela to listen to her. She has a way for everyone to get what they want — no winners, no losers. She takes Aneela down under the ruins, to a spring that gurgles with plasma. She explains that her race was driven to all corners of the universe, to dominate and rule, but now she is the last. But then she found the green, a place where nothing is lost. She herself is just a memory, and only exists in the green. She gave Aneela immortality, and now she wants something in return.

D’avin runs through the forest in the green, shouting for Dutch, who is also running in search of him. When they meet, they embrace, but then D’avin pushes her away, not certain it’s really Dutch. She kisses him, which puts to rest his worries, and they set off to find Johnny. D’avin has realized that space doesn’t behave like you’d think it would, and that he’s been travelling from memory to memory. They realize that Johnny must be reliving his worst experience, and focus on Oldtown. In Oldtown, Johnny is trying to keep a still-living Pawter out of sight, because he doesn’t trust that she’s really there and alive. Pawter protests that he saved her, and that they can be happy together forever now. Suddenly realization dawns on Johnny: that’s not really Pawter. “Does it really matter?” the Lady asks through Pawter. “Aren’t you tired of being lonely? Wouldn’t this be easier?” “Yes,” Johnny whispers. “But it’s not real.” He then asks the Lady what she wants from them, and she tells him that she’s after memory — something her race never had.

“I’m not talking about the animal instincts that drove us, but something deeper. Something that allows you to remember connections to your past; to imagine your future. It’s what makes you so unique, but also so vulnerable. Even now, you’re looking at me, and you know — you know what I really am, but all you can see is a memory of what you lost. And if you stay here, Johnny, I’ll never die, and you can love me forever.”

Johnny almost falls for it, leaning in to kiss Pawter/the Lady, when a hand lands on his shoulder. D’avin and Dutch are there, and he allows himself to be pulled away from the woman he loved. As the three walk down the street, “Pawter’s” cries ringing in their ears, Johnny asks D’avin to keep him from turning and looking back.

In the Royale, Gared notices that Pree seems feverish. Later, as Gared walks down a street in Oldtown, one of the children who was kidnapped runs up to him, dragging him to where her mother, Ginny, has collapsed against a wall. Ginny seems disoriented, not even realizing that she’s on the ground. She coughs and wheezes a bit, and Gared brings her to the Royale, where Zeph is checking on Pree. Zeph runs Pree’s customers out by talking about his mucus-covered tonsils, and while Ginny shivers in the corner, Gared leads Zeph to a small crowd of people outside the Royale’s doors, all exhibiting the same symptoms. She realizes that everyone who has come into contact with the kids has developed the symptoms, and Turin tells her from the Armada that he’s getting similar reports from all over Westerly. Suddenly, Ginny starts seizing, and falls into a coma. At this rate, the whole moon will be infected in a matter of days, and this seems like a biological weapon, not a natural virus. Turin places the whole of Westerly under quarantine, and while Gared fusses over Pree, Zeph gets to work on a cure, despite starting to succumb to the symptoms herself.

The Nine families of Qresh send a representative to help Turin, having noticed things going poorly. But when Turin asks for more medical supplies to send to Zeph, the man says that that will be unnecessary — they already have a solution. Qresh has enough nuclear missiles to wipe any disease off the face of Westerly and keep the rest of the Quad safe. Once the sickness is gone, Westerly will eventually be useable again. Zeph finishes formulating her cure, but Pree stops her from injecting herself with the experimental concoction. Westerly needs a doctor, he tells her, not a bartender. He can take the risk that it’ll make him worse or not work. Zeph insists that since she’s the one who took the risk, she should pay the price, but Pree tells her that that’s stupid, shortsighted, and cowardly, not honorable. Making the hard call is the honorable thing to do, and it’s what Pip did. “How do I get over this, Pree?” Zeph asks tearfully. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t. Life isn’t about getting over or letting go, just moving ahead. Because there’s nothing behind you but shadows.” Zeph nods, and injects Pree with the cure.

Back in the woods in the green space, Team Awesome Force runs in search of Aneela, but are stopped by a troop of Ferrin soldiers shooting at them. Regretting taking Aneela’s advice not to bring guns, they turn to a memory aboard the RAC, when they were attempting to take it back from the undercover Hullen. They load up on all the heavy artillery, and head back out. Back under the ruins, the Lady tries to persuade Aneela to join her, saying that the Hullen were just a means to an end. What she has planned for when she gets out goes far beyond. But the two hear explosions drawing near — Johnny’s trying out his new rocket launcher. But the Lady keeps sending men at them, until D’avin drops his gun, walks out from behind the trees, shoves his arms forward, and shouts, “Enough!” and all the men vanish. The Lady looks shaken, and the trio continue to advance on the ruins. The Lady pulls out one last offer to tempt Aneela — she can give her her family back. Aneela rebuffs her — her father is already dead. But that’s not what the Lady is talking about.

Dutch, Johnny, and D’avin enter the ruins, but can’t find Aneela. While Johnny and Dutch discuss what to do next, D’avin starts hearing Jaq’s voice calling to him, and he finds the stairs and heads down in search of his son. Dutch and Johnny notice his disappearance, and charge down the stairs after him. They find the Lady, now in appearance like Aneela’s mother, holding him by the throat, interrogating him about his son’s whereabouts. When Dutch and Johnny burst into the room, the Lady drops D’avin. Dutch tells her off for wearing Yalena’s face, but the Lady says that it’s for Aneela. Aneela confesses that she’s taken the Lady’s offer to be with her family — not her parents; Delle Seyah and Jaq. If they let the Lady out, she’ll let them go. Dutch tries to convince Aneela not to believe the Lady, but Aneela walks away after the Lady, stopping to whisper to Dutch, “Remember what you said to me once: you were here; you mattered.” The door seals behind Aneela and the Lady, leaving Dutch and Johnny in shock. (D’avin would be in shock too, but he’s a little unconscious at the moment.) Outside, Aneela tells the Lady she needs to concentrate to be able to bring them out of the green. “Take your time,” the Lady responds, “they should be ready for me when we get out.”

Just as the Qreshi representative is ready to order the missiles be fired at Westerly, Zeph radios in: the antidote worked, and Pree’s viral load is dropping rapidly. She tells Pree he’ll be up and dancing with Gared in no time, to which Pree looks bemused, and asks, “Who’s Gared?” Ginny’s daughter runs up to Ginny, excited that her mom is better, but Ginny is also confused, asking for someone to find the girl’s mother. Zeph tries to work out how the virus could have caused this memory loss, but her train of thought slips away and she looks around the bar, confused.

In the underground grotto, Johnny tries to wake D’avin, while Dutch tries to understand why Aneela would have betrayed them — after everything the Lady has put Aneela through, it doesn’t make any sense. Johnny comments that the Lady is probably going to kill the green with the spore and kill them out of spite, and something clicks in Dutch’s mind. She realizes that the cave-like room they’re in is actually the room on the hidden planet where Yalena is — the room where she hid the spore. Aneela was giving her a message: she’d been there before, and it mattered. Dutch jumps into the memory of Yalena giving her the spore, and when she opens her eyes, the vial is in her hands. She thinks — she hopes — that Aneela is stalling for time while she waits for Dutch to poison the green from the inside. Dutch takes a deep breath and tosses the vial into the spring of green, and the ruins almost immediately start to crumble. Outside, storm clouds gather, and the Lady realizes she’s been betrayed. She and Aneela fight, and when the trio make it outside, they see Aneela bent over on the ground. She tells them that they can’t wait, that the Lady is coming back, and all three run from the toppling stone walls. But as they run, we see another Aneela — the real Aneela — unconscious, slumped against a wall. She wakes in time to see the stones of the ruins flying away in the storm, Khlyen standing behind her. On the Armada, Dutch and D’avin haul Johnny out of the green, then wait for Aneela to surface. The green turns clear like water, and all the vials and beakers in the lab that contain plasma shatter. Just when it seems Aneela and the Lady are lost forever, a hand breaks the surface of the liquid, and the screen smashes to black.

Warm, soft light begins to come into focus, and we see Dutch in bed, with her head on a man’s bare chest. The frame widens and we see that the man is… Johnny?! He tells her they have to get up, with a kiss on the top of the head, calling her Yala. As Johnny gets dressed, we see that they’re in one of the rooms at the Royale, and Dutch is getting the bar ready to open. Johnny comes out wearing a jumpsuit, telling her that he’s got a heavy shift at the plant, and she reminds him to get hops on his way home. Johnny kisses her on the cheek, and says “happy wife, happy life,” on his way out the door. As he walks down the Oldtown streets, he tosses a coin into a beggar’s can, and we see that despite the long, matted hair, the beggar is none other than Turin. Gared jogs to catch up to Johnny and they make a plan to drink together after “the fight.” Johnny bumps into D’avin, who turns around and tells him off for bumping into him, neither seeming to know the other. Dutch comes out and calls to Johnny, who it seems had forgotten his lunch. D’avin eyes Dutch up and down, with no recognition in his eyes. The three part ways, and D’avin, wearing RAC gear, looks at his tablet, displaying a warrant for “Jaq Kin Rit.”

Through this scene we hear Dutch’s voice, telling a story: “My father told me a story once, about a family that got lost in the woods. They left breadcrumbs to mark their path so they’d never forget their way home. But a monster lived in those woods, and one by one, it ate everything they left behind.”

As the camera pans up, revealing large factory-like chimneys filling the Westerly skyline, the voice switches to that of a little girl, saying, “Memories aren’t just where you’ve been. They’re who you are. And if I own that, I own you. And now that I’m out, I will own everyone.” We see two young girls playing Cat’s Cradle, and at the last sentence, one of them (who looks eerily like a tiny Kelly/Zeph) looks sinisterly down the barrel of the camera.

Whaaaaat.

There’s so much to unpack here, so join us for a separate article breaking down the finale, favorite moments about the season, talking about questions we have, and theories and speculation for Season 5!

[teiranlavellan]

My Writing Master Post

These one-shots skip around chronologically and mainly give me a break from my main writing.

Each title is a link, Click it for the whole post.  These are all written as answered prompts for the Dragon Age Drunk Writing Circle.

Guilt

My first drabble for DA drunk writing circle.  (Prompt: Walking on ice). Teenage Teiran Lavellan showing off her archery skills and her older brother Ivun.

She launched herself as far as she could onto the lake, letting her feet slide under her, completely focused on keeping her balance.  When she could direct her gaze somewhere besides her feet, Teiran realized she had slid farther to the left than she had intended, but was only a handful of yards from her goal.  Emboldened as only a young adult could be, Teiran began to walk on the ice.  Halfway through her second stride, she slipped, landing on her elbow and shoulder.

Lilacs

Karissa Trevisan’s first drabble, introducing her as a character.  The mystery of the appearance of lilacs within the Inquisitor’s bed chambers and who could have been the one to send them.

Karissa smiled lightly, “Good night, Lady Montilyet.”  Karissa tucked the new scrolls into her messenger bag, placing them in the central pocket with those lacking the Inquisitor’s signature. “Could it be Lady Montilyet?  She was kind enough to send the flowers, but if it was her she seems like the type to leave a note.”  Karissa argued with herself.  

Her waist-long braid hit her stomach as she turned for the door and left the cozy office.

Astrarium

A moment from an early-relationship Iron Bull and Dorian.  Nothing explicit, but suggestive.  Dorian trying to keep his distance from a real relationship.

Dorian smiled charmingly, “Oh, don’t tell me this is the part where we cuddle and declare our undying love for each other?”

The Iron Bull wasn’t fazed by the rebuff; he continued in the same light tone, “Ha.  All I’m sayin is you can stay a minute.  Catch your breath.  After all, wouldn’t want anyone to see you so …” He ran his eye over Dorian’s flushed cheeks, “Sparkly.”

Abandoned Home

Post-Trespasser moment in Skyhold.  Former Inquisitor Lavellan coming to accept her new life after all the changes that have happened in the past couple of years.  She’s been depressed for awhile at this point and is finally starting to recover.

Teiran resumed her slow march towards the throne at the end of the hall.  The voices and memories spun endlessly through her mind with each step: laughter, the soft buzz of many voices, the rustle of fabric overhead, the constant movement of couriers, the weighty feeling that the world was changing with every step; it was all gone.

A squeak pierced Teiran’s nostalgia. Morrigan was grooming her face by the door to the forge; she rose onto her hind legs and squeaked again.

A Quiet Sigh

My Cullen POV.  Post-game, but pre-Trespasser.  This is a piece that goes with my “Quest for Drunkeness” idea that has yet to be written.

The Iron Bull crossed one arm across his wide chest and gestured with the other, “There you go!  Let it out Red.  Get it off your chest.”

Cullen watched in horror as a dagger flashed across the room aimed at the Iron Bull’s left side, missing Josephine completely. Reflexively, Cullen dashed to defend the target when he heard the “plink” of metal on stone.  The Commander slowed then stopped as he realized the Iron Bull had dodged the attack and Leliana’s knife lay harmlessly in the corner. The Iron Bull’s roaring laugh stood in stark contrast to Josephine’s stunned expression.

Mother’s Never Get A Break

Morrigan POV; Post-Well of Sorrows.  Trying to pull clothes over damp skin.  Poor Karissa just trying to do her job.

Morrigan sensed rather than heard the light step of her son in the distance, but approaching.  Cursing the end of her seldom minutes alone that is the bane of motherhood, Morrigan stood, threw the bucket of clean water over her head and rushed for her towel. Now she could hear the pattern of his speech, he was pelting someone with questions.  “Fantastic! We have guests.” Morrigan bemoaned, knowing she didn’t have time to arrange her usual outfit and calculating what would be easiest to throw on.

Ba-Boom!

About mid-way through the game in the Exhalted Plains, Iron Bull and Inquisitor Teiran Lavellan become injured.  Showing the team working together.  Iron Bull and Dorian showing off some relationship-growth.

The momentum of Bull’s movement caused the assassin’s knife to sink into the Qunari’s shoulder.   Then, Iron Bull fell forward pushing Teiran under him and to the ground.  

The assailant only had a moment to savor the heady satisfaction of vengeance for the deaths of their comrades.  One after another, arrows and bolts sunk into their body from adjacent angles.  The vengeful rouge swayed as each arrow pierced his flesh.

BA-BOOM!

The air shook with the sound of all three bodies clattering against the wooden planks.  Everyone ran, racing towards Bull and Teiran from their various locations.

Breaking the Kiss

A bit of Solavellan fluff on their way to Crestwood.  A sweet moment before the disaster that follows.

She answered teasingly, running a soft hand across the hard planes of his face, “Well, if I found it in my heart to forgive everyone else’s crimes, I suppose I could grant you this pardon.”  

Solas closed his eyes and took her hand from his face, bringing it to his lips.  He kissed her palm gently, his eyes still closed.  “You are most merciful, Inquisitor Lavellan.”

Leliana’s Scouts VS Cullen’s Soldiers

This is a running game I imagined taking place throughout Thedas to compensate for the boredom that must ensue when following around the Inner Circle collecting extra resources that they leave to be sent back to Skyhold.  Josephine is not amused.

Commander Cullen appeared in her office, closing the door gently behind him.  “Ah, we’re all here.  Good.”  Cullen observed awkwardly, still standing in the entryway.

Josephine sighed and beckoned him, “Please, have a seat Commander.  Leliana?”  She arched an eyebrow at her friend, warning her away from thoughts bent towards pilfering her messages. 

Cullen x Karissa Fluff

After the Arbor Wilds campaign, Karissa waits in Cullen’s room for him to come home.  Established relationship.

Cullen jumped up from the bed with a hand to his forehead, “Oh! I-I have something for you!  Seeds and clippings from the Arbor Wilds for your garden.  I left them downstairs!  I-I didn’t know I would be seeing you tonight.”  He glanced at her, searching her face for offense, “Not that I didn’t want to see you tonight.  Of course.  Unless you want to leave that is.  I mean—” Karissa put a hand to his lips, silencing his nervous babbling.

Introducing Aedan Cousland 

Being a rogue, Cousland is carried away within the Fade from one scene to another.  Snippets of his background through a dream-fogged lens.

Two daggers are in Aedan’s hands, familiar streaks of silver meeting the wooden shield Fergus pulls between them.  The brothers mock glare at each other as they spar, neither interested in the outcome. No matter who wins this encounter, Fergus Cousland would be Teyrn and then his son after him, carrying the line away from Aedan.  Destined to be a footnote in the Cousland legacy, Aedan halfheartedly bounces his attack off the shield’s heraldry.

Breakfast at Skyhold

A typical morning for the Inquisition’s Inner Circle and Advisors sitting down to their morning meal before setting out to quest around Thedas.

“Hey!  Quizzy!” Sera called, swooping across the table to swipe a biscuit off of Jaq’s plate.  The archer reared back and launched her attack, biscuit sailing through the air and towards the oblivious Inquisitor.

Mid-air, Cassandra reached for the projectile, catching it with ease and annoyance.  Cassandra’s movement startling her, Teiran jumped back from her thoughts.  Her journal snapping closed as she steadied herself back into a sitting position at the table.  Teiran exhaled in a sharp sigh as she realized the situation, frowning at the biscuit in Cassandra’s hand.  Sera stuck her tongue out at the Seeker’s reproachful glare.

A Trip to Castle Cousland

Arl Aedan Cousland, mourning the loss of his love and adjusting to his life post-Archdemon, returns to his home to check in on his older brother Fergus who is acting a bit strange lately.

Alistair severed Loghain’s head from his body and the headless corpse bled silently.  Alistair approached him, bloody sword still in hand, “Why?”

Aedan swallowed, “I could not.  If I had then I could not be with. . .”  The shadows congealed around a striking, wild, dark haired woman with piercing golden eyes who remained just out of sight.  Aedan half-turned towards the new ghost, “Such as with you, she would not have been satisfied with that life.  You both want to be free-wheeling heroes, not etiquette-bound rulers.”  Aedan smiled fondly at Alistair, who had regained his typical genial manner and held a hand out to shake his hand.

Before the two friend’s hands could meet, a fireball engulfed Alistair and another fiery spell preceded Morrigan’s arrival.  Aedan stumbled back, propelled by the heat.

Apples and Arrows

This is a combination of prompts: a high stakes archery contest, Dagna & Sera, and one watching another practice their skills.  So, Sera gets to show off some archery skills with the enthusiastic dwarf watching.

Blackwall put aside his carving knife and watched Sera approach with an animated bounce in her step. He braced himself for whatever mischief was headed his way.Teiran glanced down at the note again: a mock-formal invitation penned by Varric. Curious, she stepped out Skyhold’s main entrance towards the Herald’s Rest. An energized crowd encircled the outside of the tavern, weaving around Cassandra’s slashed dummies and standing on tiptoe to gain a better view.

Taking a Sick Day

The prompt asked for Inquisitor Teiran Lavellan for 99.9% Immunity (meaning that they don’t get sick often, which unfortunately is not true for the isolated Dalish who is now traipsing around Thedas).  So, I modified it so that it’s Teiran who has taken down her more immunity-gifted companions.

Varric met Cassandra’s stunned expression and chuckled, “Who knew a mage with a cold could be so dangerous?”

“That is not true of all mages, Varric.”  Vivienne answered vehemently from her cot beside Cassandra’s.

“Please.  Not now.”  Teiran’s hoarse whisper floated from the back of the room, followed by a series of coughs from the elven Inquisitor.

“Loner! You’re awake.”  Varric commented dryly.“Unfortunately.” Teiran replied, holding a hand to her eyes to block out any flicker of light that would add to her migraine.

Compassion and the Lady of Iron

Vivienne de Fer attempts to have a vulnerable, private moment.  Cole attempts to help.  The result is. . .less than desirable.

Caught in her moment of vulnerability and sensing a demon in their midst, a stray thought of “Am I in the Fade?” passed through Vivienne’s mind before the blow. Lightening arcing from her palm, she struck above her with the speed and grace of a snake.  Throwing her bedroll aside, Vivienne twisted away from the demon and stood, tears fresh on her face and her finely shaved head brushing the top of the tent’s canvas and pole.

Two screams registered on Vivienne’s right, one following the other.  The mage glanced over and froze in shock.  Sera was hysterical, jumping around like a rabbit caught in a snare.  Teiran’s back was to the enchanter, but the gleam of steel and a knife’s handle protruded grotesquely from the elf’s side.  The horror on Cassandra’s face and the blood on the Seeker’s hands as she held the Inquisitor in place made Vivienne feel as if she had been the one struck by lightning.

[asarahworld-writes]

(Not) Her Boyfriend

Notes: I’ve actually been busy attempting a longer fic, and so haven’t posted very many ficlets, let alone completed any bingo squares.  So have a ficlet.

“No, Mum, I can’t ask him to take me home.  Why?  Mum, what if he doesn’t come back?  He’s already gone and missed a year, I can’t risk that again.  I know it’s been a while since I saw Cousin Mo.”  Rose’s voice softened.  “I know, Mum. Mo’s the only family we’ve got, too.  I’ll speak to the designated driver, but ‘m starting to think that the TARDIS pilots herself sometimes.  You too.” Rose hung up her mobile, thinking ponderously.  Cousin Mo’s twenty-second birthday was looming, from her mother’s perception of time, and it had been nearly two years (from Rose’s perspective) since she’d seen her cousin (three years, counting the one Rose had missed, from Mo’s point of view).

The Doctor was waiting for her in the corridor.  Rose blinked.  “Hello,” she smiled.

He beamed. “Hullo.  No detour to the wardrobe this ‘morning’?””

Rose looked down at her jeans.  “Nah, I figured I’d check out the scene first, then decide if I needed a change or if I’d rather make a scene,” she joked.

“Where to?” He’d taken her hand and had his hand on the controls before she’d had time to answer.

“Mum’d like a visit,” Rose hedged.

“Saw her last week, didn’t you?”  The Doctor deflected.  “Anywhere and any-when, Rose!  Barcelona?  Did I ever tell you about Barcelona?  The planet, I mean, not the city.  Or Clom! Usually a rather dull planet, but Saturday mornings, the local Disney Land is a fantastic sight.  People from all over the galaxy visit Clom’s Disney resorts, though they do tend to avoid the locals.  Or the trees on Felspoon.  Picture a sunset.  Now forget it.  These skies turn purple to green to orange, one of the best colour combinations in the galaxy.  And when the stars appear, they’re so much brighter than the ones you lot see from Earth. Brighter, and closer, and we can go back and see them before anyone else in the universe has the chance to.”

Rose sighed deeply, smiling, thinking about all the lovely places that the Doctor had described.  “It’s my cousin’s birthday,” she started uncertainly.  The Doctor fixed his stare at the console.  “I haven’t seen her in three years, Doctor.  When we were kids, she used to get Mum to do her hair all the time.  And once she had her hair done, it only took her a few minutes to put together an ‘ensemble’ (as she called it) together from Mum’s wardrobe.  One for her, one for me.  We were practically best mates, ‘cept for Mickey o’ course.”

“All of time and space, wherever you wish to go,” the Doctor said simply.  “Powell Estate, London.  What’s the date, then?”

“Twentieth of August.  2006.” Rose patted a coral strut hopefully. “But what’ll you do?”  She had a sudden vision of the Doctor leaving, and this time never coming back instead of simply skipping a year.

“One might think that nine hundred years would give me some ideas of how to pass the time,” the Doctor smirked.  “Time machine.”

Rose dared not suggest that he accompany her.  “You’ll meet me in the flat?”  She asked hopefully.

“Might,” the Doctor shrugged.  “I do have a phone, Rose.”  He opened his arms, and Rose hugged him.

“Yeah, but would you answer it?”  Rose couldn’t help but tease.

“Might,” the Doctor repeated, noncommittedly.

“Right, then,” Rose said brazenly, “you come back at a decent hour, hear?  I don’t want to hear those engines in twenty years, with some sort o’ tree woman in tow.”

The Doctor smirked enigmatically.  “Go home. Rose Tyler.”  He flipped a lever and Rose could suddenly hear a startled scream from outside.  “That’d be your mother, I presume.”

“You’d better hope so.”  She waved a finger at him.  “Else you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Me? I’m not even here.”  The TARDIS began to dematerialize around Rose.  She smiled sadly at the vanishing image of the Doctor until she was left staring at the blank telly.  She wasn’t alone long, however, as she was quickly enveloped in a hug from her mother.

“Oh, you’re home!  I nearly thought that you weren’t going to make it, said to Bev the other day.  I said, Bev,”

“Mum,” Rose rolled her eyes, amused by Jackie’s antics.

Jackie hugged her daughter closer.  “All right, enough about me, how are you?  And be ready to leave in two hours, don’t want to be late!”  She paused a moment, looking Rose over.  “I suppose you’ll be needing in the loo.  Must admit, I’ve sort of gotten used to taking a bit o’ time getting ready.  But no matter,” Jackie smiled.  “You’re home! Give me ten minutes to wash up, then you get on.”  Rose nodded, absently wondering what she had in her own closet that would be nice enough to wear.  She’d started to favour darker colours recently, and had shied away from the pink that had dominated her apparel.

Opening the door to her old bedroom, Rose stopped in shock.  She must have stood there, staring, for a good fifteen minutes until Jackie came up to tell her that the loo was free.  “Rose, aren’t you going to shower?  I thought you said – blimey, that’s gorgeous.”  Rose nodded.

There was a dress laying across her duvet.  It was impossible not to notice immediately – the dark blue stood out proudly against the chequered pink blanket.  There was a note laying off to the side.  Smartly handwritten, it read:

               Courtesy of the TARDIS.  Wanted you to have something different for tonight if required.

Short and to the point.  Rose reached out, touching the soft fabric reverently.  The Doctor had remembered why she’d gone home and, more impossibly, had given her a dress (far sleeker than anything she’d ever owned) just for the occasion.  If she’d ever believed in fairy tales, the Doctor was her knight in shining armour. He just never seemed to realize a knight generally kissed the princess after he saved her.

Moving on from that thought (or at least shoving it to the back of her mind), Rose quickly showered before tying up her old robe.  Having heard the doors banging, Jackie shouted for her to come across the hall.  Rose tightened her sash, padding into her mother’s room.  Jackie promptly began to comb Rose’s hair, easily styling it into a loose updo.

The dress was easily dressed down – it was only her cousin’s party, after all – with a faded denim jacket and a pair of patterned stockings.  Perhaps it was becoming a habit after spending so much time with the Doctor, but Rose opted for her boots.  They were far more comfortable than any heels she owned, and she was starting to realize that at any moment, while with the Doctor at least, if she needed to start running, boots were far more practical than high heeled pumps.

The bus to Peak District was long and tiresome for Rose.  It had been nearly a year since she’d been on a bus and she found that she’d quite gotten used to just appearing at her next, often unplanned, destination.  She’d fidgeted nearly the whole way, making light conversation with Jackie when spoken to.

“Rose!” A grin split the older girl’s face as she raced forward to embrace her cousin.  “It’s been too long!”  Rose smiled, hugging Mo.  “And Aunt Jaqs.  How’s everything up in London?”

“Good,” Jackie answered, looking at her daughter.

“Yeah? That’s great!  How’s Mickey, Rose?”  Mo began a tirade of questions.  Mickey, Jackie’s current boyfriend (“Boyfriends, perhaps?” “There’s always Jimbo, but truth be told, he’s pretty useless.”), the shop, the Estate.  “So you finally broke up with Mickey, eh?  Good on you, Rose.  Sounds like he was already over you, how many dates did he go on with that Trishie girl before you broke it off, anyway?”

“Just the one,” Rose said defensively.  “Anyway, he’s still my best mate.  We’re just not together anymore.  It just, it got so dull.  Eat chips, watch football, make out a bit, and watch more footie.  It was like I got stuck in some rut or something.”

“Whatever you say, Rosie.”  Mo beamed. “I’ve got a couple o’ mates coming, should be here soon.  They’ve promised to behave, but fair warning – they can get a bit randy.”

Mo’s idea of a party was simple.  Beer, crisps, with some cheese (there was a bit of mould on the end, easily scraped off) and loud music.  Nevertheless, Rose enjoyed herself.  This was the atmosphere she’d grown up in, and it was a comfort to come back to something so familiar after all the aliens she’d met and the foreign places she’d seen. So of course the Doctor would slip in, practically unnoticed, looking as though he were looking after an alien threat. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Rose followed him – Mo had gone off to talk to some friends, Jackie had made her way to the drink table for another round.

“What are you doing here?”  Rose stepped forward, looking at the Doctor’s face.

“Rose? I thought you’d swanned off with your mother.”  He said, looking (was she imagining?) slightly crestfallen.

“M here with Mum,” Rose told him off.  “Mum, Cousin Mo, few of her friends.  Go on, then – why are you here and not off in the TARDIS?”

“Did you actually think that I ever left Earth when you weren’t in the TARDIS?  I might be the ‘designated driver’ (as you put it) in your mind, but the TARDIS goes where she wants.  Usually, we’re in agreement about where or when that should be.”

Rose was staring at him in shock.  “So when I missed a year?”

“That was the TARDIS,” he bristled.  “It was important that we were in London to stop the Slitheen from nuking the planet, in case you’d forgotten.”

“You still haven’t told me why you’re in my cousin’s house,” Rose repeated.  It was at that moment that Mo reappeared.

“Roooose!” She giggled.  “Rose, you’re missing the party over here by yourself,” she slurred some of her vowels, dropped some consonants – partly due to her accent, partly because of the amount of alcohol she had already imbibed. After a moment, she noticed the Doctor. “Hello gorgeous,” she smiled.

“Hello. I take it that you’re Rose’s cousin. Mo, was it?”  The Doctor smiled tightly.

“He knows my name,” Mo half-shouted, though on her part she appeared to be attempting a whisper.  “So you’re the man Rosie dumped old Mickey for, eh?  Good on you Rose,” she turned back to her cousin, “he’s a real looker.”

“Mo,” Rose snapped, mortified.  The Doctor didn’t know, couldn’t know, how she really felt about him.  Mo looked from Rose to the Doctor and once more to her cousin.

“Oh,” she said quietly.  “You’re not…”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Mo.”  Rose looked over at the Doctor nervously.  It was far from the first time that someone had assume they were a couple – Jabe, Adam, and even her own father had made that supposition -  but it felt different to deny it to someone she knew quite well.

“Well, maybe he should be.”  Mo grinned, disappearing back into the crowd.

“Sorry about her,” Rose blustered.  “Does this happen to you a lot?  You must have had some other friends in the TARDIS before me?”

The Doctor didn’t answer.  “Funny how nearly everyone we’ve met assumes we’re together.”  He said slowly.  “Never happened, maybe once, before I ran into you.”

“Must have something to do with,” Rose started a quip, but couldn’t quite figure out how to end it.

“Even someone slightly telepathic – like Jabe – could sense it.  Hell, even your mother could see that I was, am, attracted to you.”

That I was, am, attracted to you.  The Doctor’s words swirled in her mind.  Before Rose’s mouth caught up to her mind, the Doctor had turned and started to walk away, his tall frame easily parting the crowd.

“Doctor!” She called, hurrying after him. He turned, a look of disbelief on his face.  Rose smiled, a smile full of hope and bright eyes full of adoration.  She reached for him and he took her hands in his, a gesture that was already so familiar.  But this time, he was holding both her hands – loosely at their sides – with her entire (small) family to see.

[blue-echoinglights]

Sky to ground, a careful creature

made friends with even opposites of the earth......

There’s something strangely hypnotic about fire, you think.

It’s not alive, but there is a certain spirit to it. It dances, teasing a flick of heat into the night air, shifting to tiptoe across the logs you’ve built it upon. It sways with every breath of the wind, and if you didn’t already know that it was soundless besides the occasional pop or crackle, you’d assume it would sing.

Finally moving your eyes from the flickering of the fire to the wisps of ascending smoke, you trail your gaze into the heavens. The night is still young, and the stars are beginning to breach the tree line. With the west wind comes a sense of cool freshness, but you can’t help but feel a bit lost. Directionless.

You’re broken out of your musings by the hesitant warmth of a canine tongue on one fingertip. The pup is looking up at you with eyes that seem too old, too knowing of the emptiness that seems to be emanating from your chest. But, in a blink, the look is gone, replaced with its regular playful wolfishness and a slow tail wag.

You give him a small smile, and begin to scratch under his muzzle, the spot that makes his leg thump in a pleased rhythm. You hum. “You always seem to know when I’m getting too lost, huh, boy.” More scratches. The wind shifts direction, and the smoke swept into your face makes your eyes sting.

You sigh, and take a moment to lose yourself in the warmth and flickering flames of the fire before you. Through the waves of heat, you see the telltale red leather of your notebook tucked innocently amongst your bedroll. You stare for too long, eyes unseeing.

The water pooling in your eyes is not from the smoke, but you shift positions anyways.

“I think it’s time for a little night stroll, wha’dya think?” Your canine friend tips his head with bright eyes, tail scratching arcs into the forest floor. There’s an excited woof, and you laugh. “Ok, let me grab my coat, and we’ll go for a little adventure.”

The notebook remains carefully on the edges of your vision as you ruffle through your pack and shrug on your coat. You pretend your hands aren’t shaking. You are running, you coward. Just like you always have.

There’s flashes. Faces, open and free in a laugh, in horror. A cry of joy, a cry of agony-

Hyeong-jun

Navi

Mia

Luke

Tao

why did you - should -have  - you must go - i won’t just abandon - there’s a thundering in the ground, the rumbling of artillery - the walls are cracked and worn, and the bloodied hand that reaches to caress your face is just as scarred - there’s a horrible keening, straining your throat and echoin-

“Jeremiah.”

A hand scrubs frantically across your cheek, and you resist the urge to check if it’s stained red. You know it won’t be. The phantom warmth of viscous liquid remains, sunk into your skin.  

There’s a claw digging into your knee, and a whine that cuts through the haze.

“Oh, hush, Jaq, I’m coming. Just got.....lost.” Jaq barks and pushes off his leg to bound toward the treeline, slobbered tongue flopping without dignity. You huff, “You mutt! Wait for your old man.”

Despite the hour, the trees are easy to navigate in the starlight. It casts an eerie glow, but you can’t help but feel relieved. Worse things had happened in broad daylight, anyways.

I told you to go! For once in your life, listen to your commander!

I can’t ju-

Please! If not your commander, listen to your father.

p l e as e just-  

I-

-Go.

Jaq is barking again. You’re choking on a sob, hands fisted in the pine needles splayed out on the forest floor. You don’t remember sinking to your knees, or feeling the now sharp sting behind your eyelids.

You are a soldier, you think. You knew it was going to be difficult. You grew up as the son of a military family. You had gone to more funerals by age ten than most civilians had by age 50. You knew.

But you could not have known. No human could truly know this sort of agony, until they had experienced it themselves firsthand.

You recognize that your throat is burning, that your shouts and cries are ripping apart the hushed tranquility of the darkness around you. You scream, It’s not fair, they should have taken me instead, it’s not fair it’s not fair I would rather just have died myself then live with out you-  nobody could have known I just needed more time its not FAIR -

Jaq is there, pushing his weight against your torso and grounding you to the dirt, the dirt you had wished had just taken you instead. He’s pushing his muzzle against your sore throat, and your unsteady hands grip his fur with desperation. Spit bubbles on your trembling lip, the fury from before long dissipated. Your voice drops to a whisper. “How could you have gone without me?”

The forest does not answer.

But the wind whispers, and the stars blink high above, persistent in their gift of sight. The tear tracks on your cheeks glisten like rivulets of silver.

“Dad, why do the stars blink at us?”

You’re six, the age of big questions and an even bigger world. You’re swinging your feet at the kitchen table, and your father is cleaning one of his pistols. He picks up a rag, freshly oiled, and begins to work it between the engraved ridges of the metal. He lifts his gaze up, eyes distant, but still playful. “What do you think?”

You always liked that about dad. He never did the hard work for you. He made you think. “Well.....I always thought they was like eyes, b’cus- sometimes they cry. Right? The rain?”

“’Were like’.” He corrects, gently. He’s set the pistol down, and his eyes have settled on his scar again. The one that ran past his thumb, curling around his wrist like a snake. He never talks about it.

He huffs a laugh, gaze finally lifting, and drops next to you at the table.

“Well then, whose eyes are they?” You know that to anybody else, they would think Dad is mocking you by asking. What soldier cares about the stars? But you know, no. Dad does. Dad always cares.

You frown and tilt your head, thinking. “I  think...I think that ey’re are all the people who love us, but can’t see us on earth no more, So they blink, so we know they see us.” Your eyes light up, lit with an epiphany. “Like a night light!!”  You turn to look at your father, and startle to see the full focus of his gaze on you. The scar soon takes his attention again as he leans back with a chuckle, voice a little too hoarse and eyes distant again. He hums, in thought.

He quirks his mouth in a slight grin, and his gaze softens as it lands on you. “Well, then maybe I’ll be up there too someday, and I’d be proud to be your nightlight.” He stands and presses a quick kiss to your forehead, laughing as you squirm.

“But don’t worry, I won’t leave just yet. I have a little kiddo to tease first.” The soft look is gone, replaced with his trademark mischievous grin.

You’re instantly on the defensive. “I’M NOT tic’lish! I promise!”

He laughs, a full sound that fills the too-empty house. The stars blink through the window, ceaseless in their provided light.

You realize that the forest has gone silent again. Jaq is still lying in your lap, and the chill of the late hour has started to seep into your bones. You’re still staring into the heavens, watching the pinpricks of light shift in their positions.

Your gaze finally focuses, and know what you must do.

.

You had taken this trip in the hopes of escaping the people, mostly. They had congratulated you, speaking of honor and bravery and sacrifice and most of all, ‘heroism’. You had felt like laughing in their face. War doesn’t make you a hero. War makes you a murderer, and at best, dead. 

How could you say you were honorable when those names lay listed in your notebook, crossed about and never to be spoken again? When you had to face a teenager’s mother and practically say, “I’m sorry for your loss, your son spent his last moments vomiting his intestines and praying for me to forgive him?”

They worshiped the heroes, singing praise about ‘patriotism’ and ‘fighting the good fight.’ How the people who go to battle are deserving of respect, and love and support.

There is none left for a soldier who returns from war. There is no good fight. There are no heroes. Only broken men. And people would rather live in a daydream than acknowledge they were sending their sons to die.

.

Your footsteps make no sound as they cross across the pine needles, and Jaq has returned to his favored position alongside your left leg. His presence is a constant reminder that even in this mundane task of walking, you still have a willing friend.

The fire has been reduced to embers since your walk, but it doesn’t take much to pile on more logs and light the kindling with a small match. You shake your fingertips to rid them of the match’s sting, and stand back to watch the flames grow.

There is one more task you know you must do. Eyes flick towards your bedroll.

Hesitation.

This is childish, you think. Soldiers don’t believe in the stars. There is nothing pure on this Earth that soldiers believe in, not really. You stand there, breathing in the smoke, letting the weight of that thought settle in.

Then- But I’m not a soldier.

Mind made, you take a step towards your notebook. I am a brother in arms. Another step. I am a fighter, step, a lover, step, a man, step, a friend. When you’ve reached the notebook, your shadow darkening it’s soft leather cover, you take a breath.

I am a son.

Your fingers grip the red leather, darkened already by consistent use. It takes more effort than you’d like to admit, to flip that first page. You may have done it hundreds of times, but this time is different than the rest.

1/03 Nick

1/22 Hyeong-jun

2/ 02 Alex

4/04 Navi

9/15 Mia

10/22 Luke

6/ 24 Rosa

8/25 Yijun

The list stretches for several pages, names of people long gone. Some older, some newer, but of the same pain and longing nonetheless.

As you flip through each page, each memory, the pain in your chest tightens. There, at the final page, scratched with innocent blue ink, sits one final name.

_/_ Jeremiah

No date, but you knew it was coming. You had waited for the day you knew you were going to die, for the date where someone would finally lay you to rest.

With trembling fingers, you rip the section from the page.

Jaq noses your leg, giving wet kisses of reassurance. You grin weakly as you stand, tucking the torn paper in your pocket. One last thing, you think, staring at the notebook held loosely in your fingertips.

It takes a step to approach the fire, the flames still dancing lightly as they were before. With heart held in your throat, your fingers reach and let go.

The notebook burns just like anything before it, unknowing of the weight it had carried. With every wisp of paper that drifts into the air, the tightness in your chest loosens. Each name grays, cracks, and swirls within the fire, becoming one with the waltz of heat and flame.

As they swirl into the night, you realize that this is what breathing feels like.

Maybe it was a childish fantasy. Maybe the stars truly do not provide sight. But just this once, you think, and smile up into the night.

Maybe they’ll see better from up there.

.

Behind your back, a single star blinks brighter, ever vigilant in its careful watch.

.

.

.

End

[jumpship90]

2 and/or 11 for kisses prompt please

apologies this took forever but I had this whole scene pop into my head for Jaq and Phin and needed a little more time to get it right! It ended up 1500 words, so more under the cut to spare you all scrolling

11 - “welcome home kisses”

Phineas grumbled to himself beneath his breath as he stalked down the corridors of the Hope, the lights about him gradually dimming to a glow as the ship entered its night-cycle. Usually, he paid little heed to the processes programmed into the ship to aid with the regulation of circadian rhythm. His own lab ran on a perpetual day setting that allowed him to work as long and as late as he pleased and he was quite happy keeping to his own schedule. To his displeasure, that had recently become disrupted.

The source of his consternation had started near two weeks ago. It was the first evening after Jaq had returned to their work at the New Hope Centre and he had sought to distract himself from the inevitable homesickness that plagued him after their departure by ploughing ahead with his work. He’d been leant over a microscope when he had realised he was struggling to see the specimen on the slide below. At first, he had blinked in confusion, then he had realised, no, his ageing eyes were not failing him just yet, everything really was suddenly beginning to grow darker, the lights powering down around him in a simulated sunset.

“Computer, lights up,” he barked, still squinting at the specimen.

“I must remind you that the Hope is now entering its approved night-cycle, Dr Welles,” the flat mechanical voice intoned, echoing about the laboratory.

He scoffed. “Override it then.”

“Negative, Dr Welles. I am unable to override the health and security programming for this ship. To do so would be a violation of employee wellness protocol 3.14 subsection a.”

“Nonsense.” He straightened up, hands on hips and glaring at the speaker mounted on the wall. “This is my lab and I am in my personal time. Override.”

“I am unable to comply. This unit cannot overrule administrator updates.”

“I am the administrator!” He tapped his foot in frustration. A warm orange glow now filled the room. He would never be able to work in this.

Phineas huffed and shuffled over to a terminal to check the settings, there had clearly been some kind of engineering error. He tapped through the controls for the lab – air scrubbers, chemical cleaning processes, heating, security logs – ahh, light settings!

*error, password required*

“What in the void?” he muttered. “Computer, who last updated these settings?” Someone was going to regret interrupting his work.

“Settings last updated by; Captain Jaq Evenshaw.”

He sighed heavily at that. He should have guessed. There was little the two of them disagreed upon but his lack of sleep was the main catalyst for the few arguments they had.

Phineas’ fingers flew over the keys as he inputted password attempts. No, it wasn’t their anniversary, nor was it Jaq’s birthday and his own didn’t get him anywhere either. He tried again using variations on “The Hope” until eventually, the screen locked.

*error –too many incorrect passwords entered. Access denied. No further attempts may be made for 24 hours. Please contact your administrator*

“Fine,” he growled. “Two can play at this game.” He would just have to attempt a manual override then.

But when he had made his way to the panel beside the door and popped it open, Phineas had discovered Jaq had done something fiendishly complicated with the electronics that even several hours of tugging at wires and messing with the circuits hadn’t been able to untangle. He’d felt a tiny spark of pride flare even as their work vexed him. It was excellent craftsmanship after-all and it was difficult to be too angry when their heart was in the right place. They worried about his health, he knew. All the same, he would be having stern words with them when they returned. Well, after the two of them had caught up and he’d had them explain the clever little trick they’d pulled.

Defeated, he had given up that first night and been forced to turn in at the ridiculous hour of 20:00 and it had been the same every night since. The enforced curfew was irritating but he had to admit, he had managed to get caught up on his reading and even played several hands of cards with his colleagues that had proved surprisingly enjoyable. If Jaq were here, he supposed it would have given them a little more time to indulge in other activities, though he did pride himself on always ensuring he finished work a little earlier than usual when they were back. A sharp pang of longing gripped him as he made his way back to his quarters. Hopefully, it would not be too long until they returned.

Distracted as he was, at first Phineas did not notice the glow of the lights from beneath his door. He swiped his security pass and stepped inside, halting abruptly at the sight of a familiar tatty rucksack sat beside the wall. His heart leapt in his chest. They were back!

He shuffled into the room, expecting to find his partner sat at the desk typing up notes on their project or perhaps lounging on the bed watching an aetherwave serial. Instead, Phineas was rather surprised to be greeted by a half-naked figure sprawled atop the sofa, a copy of tossball monthly open on their chest and their mouth hanging open, soft snores escaping them. It wasn’t the first time he’d returned to his room to discover Jaq passed out on the sofa but they were usually dressed.

He padded across the room as quietly as he could. Jaq slept quite deeply but they were prone to startling if awoken suddenly – an old habit that he could sympathise with. He crouched beside them and smiled down at their sleeping form. Their skin had tanned a little from their work planetside, darker at their calves, fading to pale at mid-thigh then back to a darker tone across their torso and arms. It must have been hot down there over the last few weeks and he knew Jaq had been focused on getting the dormitories built. He guessed they’d stripped down to their shorts, sweating under the Terra-2 sun, muscles straining whilst they laid the foundations of the buildings he’d seen in blueprints scattered across the desk. That was a rather lovely image, he thought as he settled a hand against their shoulder. He did so enjoy watching them work.

“Jaq?”

They didn’t move other than to give a snort that really shouldn’t have been as endearing as he found it.

“Jaq?” he tried again, running his thumb over their skin, and this time they stirred, bleary eyes cracking open. They blinked up at him several times before their eyes sprang wide and Phineas abruptly found two arms flung about his shoulders and Jaq’s enthusiastic embrace sent him toppling forward onto their chest. He could only laugh as their lips met his temple then left a trail of hurried kisses down his cheek before eventually finding his mouth. Phineas sighed and returned their eager kiss. Jaq’s leaving was always an unhappy necessity of their lives that Phineas’ never relished, but their return was always so sweet it made it that much easier to bear.

“Missed you,” Jaq said eventually, drawing back just enough to press their forehead to his own, keeping their arms wrapped tight about him. Phineas hummed in amusement.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Jaq sniggered and kissed him again and he caught a faint hint of toothpaste on their tongue. It seemed they had been getting ready for an early night.

“Whatever are you doing on the sofa?” he asked, disentangling himself a little to get a better look at them.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Jaq said and gave him a sheepish grin. “Only, I guess I was more tired than I realised.”

It was now that he registered the humidity in the room. Clearly they had indulged in a long hot shower before his return. He noted Jaq smelt of his favourite shower gel and the briefs they were wearing were the same ones he had previously suggested complemented their build. Ahh, so they’d scrubbed up in anticipation of an evening together.

Jaq stifled a yawn with the back of their hand. “I’m not sure I’ve got the energy for anything besides watching a serial though, sorry.”

He smirked down at them lounging atop the cushions. Regardless, they were certainly a welcome sight to return to and he appreciated the effort.

“Not to worry. We have plenty of time for catching up. You are staying a while, aren’t you?” he enquired, suddenly concerned this was going to be one of their flying visits. He braced himself for disappointment but to his relief Jaq nodded and stroked at the stubble on his cheek. He’d have shaved if he’d known they were coming home.

“A few days at least,” they replied and grinned up at him. “Why? Got something planned for us?”

Phineas pursed his lips in response, tapping a thoughtful finger against them. “Oh yes, I have some particularly interesting activities in mind for you. Starting with fixing your tampering in my laboratory.”

“It’s not tampering, it’s updating in line with the new government regs on workplace wellbeing,” they said with a shrug. “Sleep is important, Phin.”

“Ha! So says the person passed out on my sofa in their underpants!”

“Because I’ve spent two weeks grafting on a building site,” they shot back. “It’s completely different.”

He sighed. “Fine. But as you have disrupted my work, you’re going to be making it up to me during your visit.”

Jaq grinned at that and he kissed their nose. “Now, off to bed with you,” he ordered with a chuckle.

He rose to his feet, Jaq scrambling up with him and wrapping their arms about his waist. “Only if you’re coming with me.”