#she even has the same tufted ears

[sketches-by-scarletwind]

Whitewing - a she-cat who's more capable than anyone gave her credit for

Shamelessly stealing @skrs-cats’s design idea of her having a few touches of ginger because its adorable and I've loved it for the better part of a year

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Star-Crossed Lovers Of District 12 (Part 1)

Prologue

Summary: Y/N returns to district 13 with the rebel who claims to be her husband. All hell breaks loose. SoTR Spoilers!

Haymitch Abernathy x Wife!Reader

Y/N wakes to the lights of the hovercraft, she’s upright, resting against something soft. Fingers card her hair, muttering against her ear, though she can’t make out the words. Her head throbs, she needs her medicine. She can’t get her medicine, because they took her. The rebels.

She pushes against the gentle hands that restrain her. He’ll kill her…unless…

“It’s alright.” The man clears his throat, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your husband. You remember me telling you that, don’t you?” He’s still attempting to assess the damage.

“I remember you telling me that, but you could tell me anything, you’re a rebel.”

“And who are you?” He challenges.

“Well, I’m the victor of the sixtieth hunger games.” Y/N says, “I’ve lived in the Capitol ever since, designing clothing and-” oh no. There’s a hole there. A detail missing. The doctors warned her not to lose herself searching for it, brings on the headaches tenfold.

The man grabs her skull, turning her head from one side to the other. Tugging at her ears as he peers down the canal toward her eardrum.

“What the hell are you doing? Stop!” Y/N pushes away from him.

His eyes are stern, mouth set in a scowl as he pulls her back into his lap, on the floor of the hovercraft. “Is there something in your ear?”

“I don’t think so,” Y/N shakes her head. “Even if there was, I’m sure all the yanking shook it loose.” She massages the tender shell of her ear.

“Sorry,” he grimaces. “So uh, how long had you been down there? In the tribute center?”

“Since the Quarter Quell, I think.” The rebels blew up the arena and took a bunch of tributes, to do God knows what to.

The man nods, “that’s actually impossible.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t in the Quarter Quell.”

“I’m the only living victor from district twelve, of course I was.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he huffs a laugh, “you’re one of four, angel. You didn’t go to the Quarter Quell because Katniss took your place.”

“Katniss?” Who’s Katniss and, “why would she do that?”

“Because you were-”

“Was I sick?” Y/N looks to him with renewed interest. This must be it. The hole, the gap between what she remembers and the memories she lost in the explosion caused by the rebels.

The man opens and closes his mouth, gaping at her.

It is not uncommon for our minds to try and fill in the blanks. We see this often in patients with head trauma.

“Please, I need to know.”

“That’s enough for now, we’re landing.” A second rebel reveals himself. Dressed in all black like his counterpart.

“Boggs, do you think you could keep an eye on her? I have to go tell-”

“You can’t just leave me,” Y/N protests. “I mean, you’re my husband. Alleged, but still. Don’t leave me to the wolves.”

The man exhales, “think of all the trouble I went to, to get you here. You really think I’m gonna leave you somewhere it isn’t safe?”

Her eyes search his, who are you?

“My name is Haymitch, down here, they refer to me as Soldier Abernathy. They’ll probably call you the same until we get this sorted. If you need me, have someone from your med team page me.”

Haymitch. The name feels familiar to her, as though she called for him often, in another life. Y/N blinks at him, “down where?” The hovercraft jostles, taking its place on the landing pad.

“Welcome back to district thirteen.”

The underground lights are disorienting at first, Y/N steps off the hovercraft, hoping to get her bearings. She has about ten seconds before her vision is clouded by a tuft of dark brown hair.

“Y/N.”

There’s a girl in her arms, nearly as tall as her, not her sister, Madge. Or anyone she would recognize at a glance. Y/N brushes the wayward locks from her face.

“I thought you were dead.” The girl says, tightening her hold.

Is it you? Y/N wonders, do you fill the holes?

“Katniss,” Haymitch interrupts, putting some distance between them. “She isn’t herself.”

“What do you mean?” The girl, Katniss, holds Y/N at arms length to examine her.

“She doesn’t remember who you are.”

Y/N is equally devastated at the look on her face. “You’re the rebel girl, the mockingjay.” Katniss! “The boy used to scream for you.”

“Peeta?” Her voice breaks over his name. “Is Peeta here?”

“We had one medic on standby, they’re working on him now. Making sure he’s stable to transfer down to the hospital.”

“I need to see him,” Katniss insists, breaking away from Y/N and Haymitch to rush up the loading ramp.

Something collides with Y/N’s back, again with the hugging. For a bunch of blood thirsty lunatics, they sure don’t seem to be in any rush to take her out.

“Mom!”

“Mom?” Y/N grips the little hand around her waist. There is another just beneath it, belonging to a younger child.

“Mommy.” A second voice says.

“I’m mom?” Y/N mouths to Haymitch, who stares back at her in horror. This must be who he’d needed to warn about her…condition.

Finally the man nods. Hoping beyond hope that the woman before him won’t shuck them off.

Y/N pats at the arms, slowly turning to face them. “And you’re dad.” Her laughter verges on hysteria. The boy is his, through and through.

Haymitch comes around to the opposite side, standing with a hand on each child’s shoulder. “Alright you two, mom needs to get check out by the doctors.”

“Are you ok, mommy?” The little girl, wearing her face, asks.

Did they make you from my DNA? Grow you in a lab? “Yes I’m…ok.” Y/N lies. “I just have a headache.”

Haymitch’s tiny clone releases her first. “Come on, Arista. Let’s go find, Aunt Madge.”

Madge? “You have my sister here?”

“Where else would they have me?” Madge smiles, rounding the corner with an infant in her arms.

“You had a baby?”

“What?” Madge peers down at the child in question, “no. She’s yours.”

Y/N’s knees buckle, “oh no.” Her vision spotty, tunneling into darkness, “mommy’s gonna pass out now.” Grown in a lab or not, she doesn’t want to crush these children.

————————————————————————-

She startles awake to the familiar beep of bedside monitors. Am I home? Back in the Capitol? What happened to the rebels? What happened to- “Haymitch?”

“I’m here,” his chair screeches against the floor as he springs to his feet, rushing to her side. “I’m right here.” Haymitch’s hands are carding her hair again, staring down at her with the softest look in his eyes.

Oh, you poor man. “I’m sorry, I still don’t remember anything.”

Haymitch shakes his head, “that’s ok.”

“No I-“

“If nothing else, you know that I’m not gonna kill you now.” Haymitch hushes her, “it’s important to build a foundation of trust.”

“Is that what we’re doing?” Y/N wonders.

“That’s what I’d like to do.”

“Ok, well…ok.” If he’s not going to kill me, this may be my best chance at freedom.

“And I want to say thank you for what you did yesterday, with the kids.” Haymitch clears his throat, “that must’ve been a lot for you.”

“I’ve been out for a day?”

A slight bob of his head confirms it. “They were able to run most of their tests.”

“Where do they think I am? The clones.”

“Our children?” Haymitch chuckles, “they think you’re having tests run.”

“Good.”

“We had them the old fashioned way, just so you know. No cloning or laboratory needed.”

Y/N nods.

“Aren’t you gonna bite my head off and call me a lying rebel?”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “I am incredibly attracted to you, Mr. Rebel. And of all the things you’ve told me in the past twenty-four hours, I find that the most believable.”

“Good thing you didn’t lose your sense of humor.” Haymitch retorts, “that’d be a deal breaker.”

“You said um-” damn you, stop looking at me like that. “They ran tests?”

“Yeah, I asked the doctor to come back once you woke up to discuss the results. I’ll go see if I can flag down one of the nurses.”

“Thank you, Haymitch.” Y/N tries to relax into the pillows, but her head is pounding something awful.

When the door opens again, it is Haymitch who asks, “can you give her something for the pain?”

“Of course,” the doctor smiles, filling a syringe and injecting it into Y/N’s IV port.

Relief is near instant, allowing her to focus as the team of doctors and nurses fill the room.

“Upon reviewing your scans, there is clear swelling along the anterior lining of the brain. Indicative of a severe head injury.”

“Will it heal?”

“In time, yes.”

“Given the extent of the injury and the progress she’s already made… we have reason to believe that Y/N may have spent a month or more in a medically induced coma; attempting to speed up her recovery.”

“Why?”

Johanna stumbles into the room, crossing both arms over her chest. “Because she did it to herself.”

“What?” Haymitch blanches.

“Snow wanted to use her to get to you but,” Johanna lets out a low whistle, “she bashed her pretty head against the table, until it was lights out. Best he could do after that was subliminal messages and of course tossing in a few of your propos. God, that stupid voice would play on a loop all day and night.”

‘My name is Y/N Undersee. I’m the only living victor from district twelve. I live in the Capitol, designing clothing, I am very happy here. The rebels are after me. The rebels destroy everything that is good. The rebels are coming to kill me.’

‘My name is Y/N Undersee. I’m the only living victor from district twelve. I live in the Capitol, designing clothing, I am very happy here. The rebels are after me. The rebels destroy everything that is good. The rebels are coming to kill me.’

“I’d probably believe you were there to kill me too,” Johanna admits.

Part 2

[rosenclaws]

hai!! i have a rq

How do different Logan’s react to reader calling his hair “kitty ears”? thanks!

This is so cute!!!

Origins Logan -

So he doesn't actually have the kitty ears in this movie (boo boo tomato tomato) but he used to a couple years ago and you end up finding some pictures of his old hair style and just. Fall in love with it. You beg him to put his hair up like that again and he says no even with your best puppy eyes. When you tell him you just wanna see his cute kitty ears he asks you what the hell you're talking about. You tell him that he looks like a cat and he just rolls his eyes. Though later when you're in the shower together he lets you sculpt his hair with shampoo just to see you smile.

Trilogy Logan -

He almost spits out his drink when you call them kitty ears. He doesn't like it lol. He thinks it's stupid. He can feel you staring at him while he's sipping his beer and asks what you're looking at. You're giggling with Rogue as she holds up her phone and you both burst out laughing. You ask him if he purposely makes his hair look like kitty cat ears or if it just happens. He's completely bewildered. Asking what the fuck you're talking about. Rogue shows him her phone and it's a picture of a cat that has that same scowl that Logan does and he just rolls his eyes. He mumbles that he ain't a damn cat. But then when you're alone you scratch his head and he seemingly melts just like a cat and he glares at you before you can make a smart comment. You better not say a word about this.

DOFP Logan -

He comes to your class one day after lessons. Apparently some of his students asked him about his hair today during class. Saying it looks like a cat. You just start laughing because you totally agree. It's not as cat like as it used to be but the tuffs are still there. Plus he acts like an elderly grumpy old cat anyways. You reach up and try to stick the tufts up more on his hair. Telling him that yes, his hair does look like kitty ears but you've always been more of a cat person so you like it. He think's it's silly and that he doesn't look like a cat but you think he acts like one so it fits. Teasing him about it and even asking if he purrs. He's not amused about it.

Old Man Logan -

So Old man logan also doesn't have kitty cat hair either but one day you're moving some stuff around with Laura while Logan is out and find some old photographs of his X-Men days. He looks so much younger, so happy. Laura likes the pictures, they remind her of her comic books. When Logan comes home she shows him the photos and points to him, calling him kitty. Logan is just confused on what she means because now she keeps call him kitty. Eventually you figure out she thinks his hair looks like cat ears which makes Logan roll his eyes but you laugh. Laura really likes cats now and it's all Logan's fault.

Worst Logan -

He thinks Wade put you up to it but no this is all you. You're just on the couch one day looking at him and decide that he's got kitty cat ears for hair. Plus the cowl doesn't help either. He thinks your full of shit and just ignores it. Also cats just seem to really like him and every time you see him petting a stray he tells you not to say a damn word. He's the Wolverine, a living weapon with metal in his bones he is not a kitty cat. But he does like it when you coo at him and how soft your hands are when you're scratching his head. When Wade hears you call them that it's horrible. Poor Logan is fighting 2v1 against the two of you and he's not winning. I think he embraces it eventually. Just accepting that he's gonna be your kitty cat.

[steviewashere]

Take Up Space

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse (it is minor, but the themes are there), Implied/Referenced Child Neglect Pairings: Steve Harrington & Steve Harrington's Parents, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington's Father Being an Asshole, Steve Harrington Wants to Be Loved, Steve Harrington Feels Like a Burden, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Comforts Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Moves in With Eddie & Wayne, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, And Gets One

🫂—————🫂 Couldn’t even say it.

Didn’t want to look him in the eyes and just say it.

Steve’s been holding on. He has. Hands to the ground, fingers in the soil, gravel under his nails. Been holding fast to his parents. Claw marks on his mom’s calves and a ring of teeth on his dad’s neck. Fighting for purchase against everything his parents want him to be; the words they have to say when he’s behind his bedroom door and feigning sleep. When he’s ear against the wood, teeth in his bottom lip, holding back cries—“How does our kid get a fucking D in math class? We’re business people!”

He’ll always be absurd to his parents.

To his mom, he is the long lost love of her life. He is the flower nearly wilted in her palms, plucked fresh from the grass, tufts of petals blowing behind her. The thing she always wanted; that she gave name to; that she thought she needed. She knew his name before anything else. Said it her self, holding the remnants of her childhood doll—“I named him Steven,” she had told him, “a mighty little lion with a great, big roar. I held him close every night, just as I will do with you, my little lion.” He was born small, premature, wrinkled and crying. He was placed upon her chest the same way a bouquet is laid on a casket—with love and loss, grieving just begun. It didn’t take long for her to change. For her voice to grow sharp and loud and angry. Disappointed, too.

Just a disappointment to them, that’s what he was. Didn’t win the championships? Disappointment. Got third in the second grade spelling bee? Disappointment. Barely graduated high school? Dis-a-fucking-ppointment.

It was shown in the way he never met his dad’s expectations. Ruler slaps on the wrists, wooden spoon to his bottom, the time out corner. Sometimes, he’d drop his homework on “accident”, to explain why he didn’t have it. Why they couldn’t see the big, fat, red F on his assignments, scrawled dark and heavy, circled with that perfect penmanship his teachers always had—always had for the failures in class. He’d have to get his report cards signed, but he’d forge them. He’d have conferences, but he’d always “forget” to invite his parents.

And it was better when they’d leave for business trips. Always too long, over staying their welcome in out-of-state hotels, in foreign countries they’d never be built for. It was better because he didn’t have to explain. It was better because he could get away with being human. He could show up tired to school, could get a bad grade and feel relief, could fuck up big time on a test and have no repercussions (especially if he went home and deleted voicemails from their answering machine), and he could graduate by the skin of his teeth. Take up the extracurriculars, do the bare minimum, not have to try so hard to be somebody he isn’t.

Of course he didn’t make it into college, not with his skill set. Of course he didn’t try again—not because he didn’t care, but because he simply couldn’t. Of course he worked dead-end retail full time; it’s all his parents could think to do with him—it gave him time away from home for eight hours or more, so it was a win for everybody.

But underneath all of that—beneath the scoldings and the physical punishments and the hot spit in his face—there were absent words, too. Absent gestures.

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he embraced his parents. Doesn’t remember the last time he heard ‘I love you.’ Doesn’t remember the sweetness of growing up. It was all tainted, taken from him, buried under the soil—the soil he grips to, nose deep in it, sniffing for where the bones have been buried.

He’s twenty now. None of it should matter. It shouldn’t matter at all that he can’t get those three words out of his parents’ mouth. Or that he can’t gauge the weight of arms on his shoulders, arms that aren’t his friends, arms that aren’t the ex-chief of police. Yet, of course it all does.

Nearly six months after Vecna, after the earthquake, after he helped save the world like some vigilante superhero, his parents finally come home. They come home with overflowing suitcases and permanent scowls, stomping and clicking through the front door, keys heavy in a bowl, jackets hung firmly, and his name on their tongue: “Steven!”

They come home with a medical bill in their hands. Thousands of dollars “down the drain.”

And Steve greets them with a neck scar visible above the collar of his current blue henley. His hair down to his shoulders, bangs itching to stab his eyeballs. With thin white lines on his knuckles. A gritted smile on his sullen, tired, pasty face.

“What is this?” His dad had hissed, flicking his right wrist, the paper wrinkled and noisy in his hand. “Thousands! You’ve cost us thousands of dollars!”

“I had surgery,” Steve tried to explain—voice meek, small, already timid—“got mauled by some…vicious and frightened dogs during the earthquake that happened. Guess that’s what happens when you try and help out.” He gave a nervous chuckle and stepped side to side. Buy that, he internally plead, just buy it and berate me and we can move on with our day.

His mom didn’t say anything in this. Face hard-set, painted lips flat, eyes sharp. She was unclasping the earrings hanging heavy from her earlobes, fisting them in her palms, bending down to pick up the stilettos she stepped out of, and then she evaded the conversation. Just went up the steps like a ghost, barely making a sound, simply gliding. He wanted her to come back, to stop this, to stand up for him—wanted what they had when he was really little, when she cared. When she held him close. When she promised.

His dad scoffed. “And you didn’t use your own insurance?”

“I don’t…I thought that I was still on the family plan?”

Steve was then leveled with a stare. A familiar stare. One that conveys exactly what his dad won’t say yet, “Disappointment.” His dad sighed. “Well, you aren’t. Which you would know if you listened”—

“Nobody told me! How am I supposed to”—

“Don’t talk back, Steven. You shouldn’t have to be told everything.” The paper had been thrusted forward, right into Steve’s chest. He gripped for it before it fell to the ground—where his heart has already been mushed into the hardwood. His dad stepped around him, around his heart, retreating towards the dining room and kitchen, fiddling with the band of his watch. “Have you found a job yet? Any college acceptance letters? An apartment?”

He huffed and followed. Bitter, “No. I’ve been recovering from surgery. Physical therapy, a couple skin grafts, my antibiotics…I told you about it over the phone the last time you cared to even call and check in on me.” Immediately, Steve had bit his tongue. Too much, too fast.

The Stare.

“That’s no way to talk to people, Steven.”

“But I”—

“When did you become so uncouth?” His dad scoffed a humorless laugh and drifted towards the kitchen sink.

The kitchen had always been too big for just the two of them. Spacious, many cabinets, the best of the best in terms of appliances. Not a single stain on the countertop. No cracks in the tiles. All of it clean, seemingly unused. Maintained to be picture perfect.

Just as Steve had been most of his life.

His dad continued on, “You’re supposed to be in college right now. Making something of yourself. Instead you’re—what—standing in the kitchen, holding a medical bill you cost me because you were trying to save dogs? Dogs, Steven? You could be doing something with your life! Could be going to school to become a doctor like that Hagan boy. Whatever happened to Thomas anyway?”

Steve stayed silent, still biting his tongue—his dad already knew about Tommy. Small in the doorway. Hunched in and looking at the ground, bile risen in his throat, the scars on his back and sides aching.

“But”—a sigh—“nope. Saving dogs. What are we going to do with you? Should’ve sent you to military school like Robert Kelly’s kid, I heard he’s doing great these days. You’ve always been defiant, though, so I’m sure that gig would’ve been drilled straight into the ground.”

The sink turned on, his dad had washed his hands. Wiped away the residual weight of the medical bill from his palms. A medical bill that he never bothered to ask about before. Just like the other ones. Like the other concussions. The fights that put the family name at risk. The bruises and blood that ruined poor Steve’s reputation.

If only he knew the truth.

His dad went to say something else, but instead—

“Why don’t you care?” Steve bit, “you never cared. This isn’t the first bill. Why does it even matter how much you have to spend? You’re my dad; you’re supposed to care about me.”

A different stare this time. Squinted eyes. Furrowed eyebrows.

Are you challenging me, is what this one said, are you doubting me?

“When you’re saving dogs? Why should I bother, Steven?”

“Because I’m your son! Because I—I need your help! It shouldn’t matter what I’ve been doing. It should matter that I almost died.”

He rolled his eyes. “Died,” his dad muttered—a soft, bewildered echo. “Stop being so”—

“Why don’t you just love me? Why won’t you love me just as I am? I need you to care. I need you to…to treat me like I’m your kid. Not some friend. Or some business partner. Your son. But you…you don’t love me?” He shifted again, side to side, boiling and ashamed and ready to puddle into the fine porcelain of the tiles. “You don’t love me enough to call and ask why you need to pay a medical bill. You didn’t bother to even know an ounce.

“It’s like that every time with you. All those stupid concussions. You didn’t want to take me to the hospital. Didn’t want to pay it off. Worried about your stupid last name. About the family image. I almost die and all you care about is the fact my life is costing you money.

“Money is more important than me, that’s all you’ve shown.”

Another scoff. “Don’t be so”—

“Ridiculous? Unreasonable? Dramatic? Stupid?

“Why are you so incapable of loving me? That’s all I want! For you and mom to…to hold me and tell me that you love me! But you…you only care when I cost you money! Why can’t you care?! I want you to—I want you to be my dad! What’s so wrong with that? With loving me? Why am I such a hard person to love? Why can’t I just…just be enough for you?!”

Finally fallen silent, Steve stood still in the kitchen’s entryway. A world between worlds. Tired, heaving, stomach turning. Palms sweating, wetting the dumb bill that ruined this all.

It remained silent. With his dad looking at him.

Those hazel eyes and his square jaw. The same face Steve sees staring back at him in the mirror. And yet his own isn’t enough to love.

There is nothing.

And so he kept standing, empty, words dead to the floor, heart by the front door. He took a deep breath through his nose, remembered the path to his get-away bag—a bag he packed in sophomore year of high school, after a terrible basketball game, when he was slapped on the back of the head for failing to make the winning shot. It has a new toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, emergency cash, hygiene products, a new wardrobe that coincides with his current size, and all his important documents—nothing of his family’s. He had what he needed packed in his closet.

So, he left. Chose to go. Before his dad had the chance.

Let the possibilities die in the air. What could’ve been if there wasn’t so much space and so many expectations between them.

Who knew saving the world would be the ending of your own?

Who knew love was such a price to pay?

——— Now, he finds himself parked outside of Eddie’s. The backpack in the passenger seat. Leaves it for now, unsure if he’ll be wanted. But he knocks on the door regardless.

There’s a moment where there’s nothing.

Him and the blackness of the trailer park. The rustle of grass in the gentle, autumn breeze. People chattering a few doors down, over cigarettes it smells like. Max’s own bedroom light is out, most likely asleep right now. Chain link fence glinting with the very little moonlight that’s there. Fresh weeds on the outskirts, born from the rain.

Serenity around his turmoil. A constant anger still stewing, bubbling, steaming within him.

What if Eddie can’t handle him right now?

What if he has to crawl through Robin’s window, leave her with words, run for the hills?

What if…what if…what if?

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly, sing-song like he’s tried already.

He whips back around from where he’d been looking out at the grass. Shuffling. “Oh, hey, Eds. Sorry—I—Just…Can I come in, please?”

Eddie steps aside for him. Lets him in without words. Until, “You’re shaking, sweetheart. Is everythin’ alright?”

“Hm? Yeah…yeah, yeah…I think that I—Think I just moved out of my parents’ house?”

A soft, surprised sound behind him. The click of the door closing. “Yeah, you think?” Gentle.

Everything is gentle here.

The amber light in the living room. Rows of hats. Shelves of mugs. Family pictures proud on the fridge, next to yellowed drawings in crayon, all hung up with goofy Garfield magnets. There’s an open box of Honeycomb on the table, a fresh bowl poured. A carton of milk turned so that the missing persons report could be read.

When he was younger, Steve imagined being on one of those panels. What it would be like. To have gone missing. Not a note or a clue or a peep. To have his parents care enough to find him. Now, though…now it feels like they wouldn’t even bat an eye. Maybe it would’ve been the same back then, too.

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, “he got mad about a medical bill for that surgery I had. And I just…god, it’s embarrassing.” He lets out a humorless chuckle, too similar to his dad’s—a sound he will always recognize as that, from his father’s chest. Horrid and wretched. Something rotten in him, too, it seems. “I asked him why he doesn’t…doesn’t care about me. Why he doesn’t love me. I mean…who does that?” Steve makes eye contact with Eddie, who must’ve gotten closer, stepped right in front of him. With very little courage, the last dredges of it in his veins, he speaks, “They let me live in their house, eat their food, use their shit. Was that wrong of me? Am I…am I stupid for asking?”

Eddie inhales hard and deep. “Oh, Steve,” he breathes.

“It had to be, right? Of course my parents love me. They’re my parents!”

“Steve, that’s”—

“I get it, y’know. I get that it’s hard to love me. I know that, you know. But I don’t…the way he looked at me, Eddie, I knew he knew that too. I don’t think they—Why am I such a hard person to love? Is it me? Is it something wrong with me?”

He’s unsure if that was rhetorical, if he really wanted that answer. But as it is, he’s aware of the ache in his head, the burn between his eyebrows, the need and want to pinch the bridge of his nose. The tears that rise—ones that won’t fall, not without his permission. Without permission at all.

Instead of an answer, at least not right away, Eddie envelops him with languid movements and a warm body. Heavy arms on his aching back, hands pressing firm to his taut muscles, rubbing up and down his rigid spine. There’s breaths and words and kisses murmured against his eardrum. A chest rising and falling against his own. Tickling hair.

And instead of protesting, Steve clings back hard. Harder than he’s ever held anything.

Digging fingers into a t-shirt—the soil. Not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Not when he’s finally getting part of what he wanted, to just be held. Maybe not by his parents, the real dream, but at least it’s something.

Somewhere in it all, in their mess of limbs and their mingled pulses, Steve cries—giving that allowance. Sobbing big, aching, roaring hiccups into the soft spots of Eddie’s neck. Wet breaths and wetter tears. Letting go until he has nothing left to give—and then some. His head is aching already, eyebrows pinching, eyes heavy on his already too heavy face.

He’s tired.

More tired than he thinks he’s ever been.

This must be the adrenaline crash. Makes him realize all the ways he’s hurting. His back and his legs and his fingers. His head and his teeth. His heart. And here he is, screaming all of his pain into the gentle parts of Eddie, where he’s offered and where he’s swaddled.

“Shhh,” Eddie’s whispering, “shh, Stevie, you gotta calm down a little for me. Just a little, I’ve gotcha.” They’re moving somewhere. Shoes scraping and dragging against carpet. Set down on a soft cushion—the couch, then—with words still murmured in his ear. “I’ve gotcha,” Eddie says, “he doesn’t deserve you, sweetheart. I’ve gotcha…I’ve gotcha.”

“Why can’t—I don’t—Love”—he stops himself with a wet, spraying cough-gag onto Eddie’s warm skin.

Hands press into his shoulder blades, dragging firmly down his spine. And then fingers at the ends of his hair, a thumb pressing into the knobs of his neck. Eddie sways them back and forth gently. “You’re gonna choke,” Eddie murmurs, “take a deep breath, baby. Just one breath for me, that’s all.” He obliges, inhaling hard through his nose, trying to release it as slow as possible through his mouth—not incredibly, but just enough. “Good,” Eddie says, “good job. You can cry, sweetheart, but you gotta keep breathing good for me.”

Again, he does what Eddie tells him to do. Wetting his skin more with each deep breath he blows out. And when he’s just a shivering, hiccuping mess in Eddie’s arms, he finally allows himself to relax—to loosen.

Eddie presses a kiss to his left temple. Then he pulls away just enough so they can see each other’s faces. He swipes the hair out of Steve’s face, gentle with every touch he gives. “You’re gonna stay here with me, alright?”

“What about”—

“Wayne’ll understand, I promise. I’ll grab your stuff. I want you to just sit right here, okay? And when I come back in, we’ll just relax for the rest of the night.”

“I’m tired.”

“Then we’ll just go to bed, okay?” Eddie kisses his temple again. He pulls himself off of Steve and gets off of the couch with a, “I’ll be right back.”

Steve only nods at Eddie’s back, now slumped into the couch.

Disappointment rings loud in his head. At least he didn’t let his parents say it this time. But once it’s ingrained in him, he knows the way it should sound. Dripping with ire—red and loud and bass boosted from his dad’s mouth. And yet he doesn’t know what ‘I love you’ sounds like coming from either of them; or at least he doesn’t remember.

He’s gone and unloaded himself here. Not that he intended for that to happen.

There wasn’t really a plan when he drove over to Forest Hills. Maybe the naked branches of one. He’d come over, tell Eddie what happened, maybe get so overworked that he started to cry, and then he’d slip out without another word. Just get back in his car, leave a note or something for Robin, and evade Hawkins all together. Though, now that he’s out of that house, maybe his parents will finally take the initiative on getting out of this town. It’s something they always wanted, something they always threatened they’d do if Steve didn’t shape up. Now would be the time, he supposes, now that he’s left with the last crumbs of his dignity.

A few minutes later, still stuck to the back of the couch, Eddie comes in through the front door. That one backpack in his grip. Fingers tight on one strap, looking at it with confusion.

“Is this all of your stuff?”

He shrugs. “My go bag.”

“Go bag,” Eddie echoes.

“Yeah, I’ve had it packed since sophomore year. Just in case, y’know.”

Eddie inhales in that slow way he does. “Yeah,” he whispers, “yeah, I get that.” He hefts the bag up and down. “It’s just…just really light, sweetheart. Are you sure you have everything you need?”

He nods resolutely. “Stuff can be replaced. It’s fine.”

The couch dips beside him. His eyes drifting from his lap, up to where Eddie’s looking directly at him. That backpack between his feet—limp and folding in on itself from how empty it is. There’s a question on the tip of Eddie’s tongue. Hesitantly, “What was your plan, sweetheart?”

He shrugs again. “See if I could spend the night here and then…I don’t know? Figure it out as I go, I guess. Didn’t wanna be a burden or anything.”

“You’re not a burden,” Eddie states firmly, “you are never a burden to me or anybody else in our friend group.”

“But”—

Eddie lays his hand on his forearm, squeezing him tight. “I want you to stay right here with me. I want you to eat my food and sleep in my bed and take up space, you got that?”

Steve sniffles. Wetly, “Are you sure? I can get a hotel or some”—

“Stay here.” Eddie squeezes his forearm again. His eyes bounce between Steve’s own. Then, he murmurs, “I love you”—which is the first time he’s said it—“and I hate your parents with the most sincere hate I could send a person. But you…you, Steve, are worth loving and caring for. No matter what.”

“But what if you grow tired of me? I mean…my parents, they”—

“No matter what. Steve, I will always care and love and respect you as a human being even if our relationship fails—for some reason, which I can’t even think of a reason, so we’ll be okay.” Eddie hefts the backpack in his other hand, still light and still collapsing in on itself. “Now, how ‘bout we get ourselves to bed?”

Steve swallows, darts his eyes over Eddie’s face. Nods once, the last of his tears rescinding. “I’m so tired, Eds.” But it sounds like more than that. The weight of those words falling off his tongue, the hollowness of his mouth all that he has left afterwards.

Eddie frowns lightly. His hand goes up to Steve’s face, cupping his cheek gently, wiping his thumb under his left eye. “I know, baby,” he murmurs, “I know.” He sniffs himself, something small, but that’s when Steve notices that Eddie’s eyes are wet, too. “I wish I knew how to completely fix everything for you. I’m sorry your parents won’t be your parents.” Then, he stands up from the couch, hand out for Steve to grasp—which he does. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart. We’ll talk more about this when we’re rested up.”

In the bedroom, Eddie sits Steve’s bag on his dresser. Rifles through it and tutting the entire time he does. Steve probably could’ve packed some pajamas in there, but it’s fine. It’s fine because it needs to be fine. Instead of making some retort, Eddie easily grabs Steve a set of pajamas—some fleece red pants and a white t-shirt—and hands them off.

They change in silence. He brushes his teeth alongside Eddie’s, placing his own toothbrush in the same cup. Even as awful as this day has been, the sight of their toothbrushes together makes him a little giddy—something in him warm.

Once under the covers, Eddie drags Steve into him. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, chin to the top of his head, stroking fingers up and down his spine, connecting the dots of the many moles on his back. Treating him with the same love and reverence as always, as if nothing in their lives has changed. The normal is…nice in the aftermath.

“Eds?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too,” Steve whispers, “thank you for this.” He shuffles in closer, probably too close. Arms bent awkwardly, legs tangled in one another, his cheek pressed flush with Eddie’s chest. His heart is beating strong and hard, Steve turns his head to kiss it. “I’ll figure out a way to make it up”—

“Nope,” Eddie mows over, voice soft, yet firm, “not doing that. No making up that needs to be done.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Okay, fine,” he sighs, relenting. “You’ll regret saying that once you realize how messy I am.”

Eddie snorts. “Have you met me? Think we’ll be a-okay. Go to sleep.”

Steve drags his lips over Eddie’s chest one more time, blowing a raspberry against his skin. Laughing when Eddie squawks.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“Fine…fine, I’ll go to sleep. I love you, Eds.”

“Love you, too.” He squeezes Steve’s shoulders. “We’ll talk more in the morning, okay? But you’re safe here—take up space.”

Tonight doesn’t fix everything. But…but he can learn to be loud. With Eddie guiding him, that shouldn’t be much of a problem at all. Not at all.

🫂—————🫂

[22ayla21]

A Year On

Exactly one year has passed since her mother died.

Author's Note: This fanfiction is based on my personal experience from the past year, with the difference being that I didn't have anyone by my side to support me. My dad might understand what I'm going through, but even I feel like it's not real support.

She hadn't slept for several days. Each time she closed her eyes, the same image appeared before her: her mother's pale face, emaciated hands, the white sheets of the intensive care unit. And that cursed life support machine, beeping monotonously, counting down the last seconds.

Today wasn't just any day; it was the anniversary. Exactly one year ago, on June 6th, at 8:20 AM, at the Oncology Hospital, her mother passed away. Adrenal cancer, which was just a backdrop, because in reality, she was killed by a blood infection contracted from a negligent doctor at another hospital during surgery. This knowledge gnawed at her from within. Injustice, helplessness, anger—all of it mixed into a single, unbearable knot.

The pain hadn't gone away; it had only dulled, becoming a constant, background noise in her existence. Relatives? They disappeared the moment her mother was gone. Or rather, they didn't disappear; they dumped all their problems, expectations, and difficulties on her. She felt like a puppet, pulled by strings in different directions, draining her last bit of strength. Burnout had become her constant companion, and life seemed to be hurtling into an abyss, with no chance of stopping.

The only anchor she clung to in this whirlwind of despair was Leona. He was always there, by her side. He didn't try to "save" her, didn't force comfort upon her; he simply was. His presence was a quiet harbor in the raging ocean of her suffering.

She lay staring at the ceiling. Gray rays of dawn pierced through the curtains, painting the room in bleak tones. Every nerve in her body screamed with exhaustion, but sleep wouldn't come. Suddenly, the door quietly opened, and Leona entered the room. He was as always: relaxed, with his emerald eyes slightly narrowed and a slight, self-satisfied smirk that, at that moment, seemed the most beautiful thing in the world to her. Thick dark brown hair fell over his eyes, two braided strands, tied with yellow elastic bands, swayed gently. Lion ears on top of his head, a long tail with a tuft of fur at the end—all of it was so familiar and dear.

He didn't say a word, just walked over to the bed and sat down beside her. She felt his warmth, his strong yet gentle scent. He carefully took her hand, his tanned fingers wrapping around her pale palm. She squeezed his hand back, clinging to him like a lifeline.

"Not sleeping?" His voice was low, slightly hoarse, as always.

"No," she whispered. She felt tears welling up again.

Leona didn't ask unnecessary questions. He knew. Knew what day it was, knew she was having a hard time. He simply ran his thumb over her wrist, as if trying to soothe the pulsating pain.

"Do you want anything?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Just be here."

Leona nodded. He pulled her closer, and she buried her face in his shoulder. His broad, muscular back was so dependable. She heard his heartbeat—steady, calm. There was something soothing in that beat, something that helped her not to lose her mind.

She felt his hand glide through her hair, burying itself in it, then descend to her back, stroking with calming movements. His touches were strong yet surprisingly soft. He always knew how to touch her to make her feel better. This was one of his unusual qualities—behind a mask of laziness and arrogance lay surprising sensitivity and perceptiveness.

"You know," she began, her voice muffled by tears, "I feel so... empty. As if there's nothing inside me."

Leona didn't answer immediately. He just held her tighter. Then he said, "Emptiness fills. With time." His words were simple, but they held a kind of ancient wisdom, as if he had seen such emptiness many times before.

"But when?" She lifted her head, her eyes red and swollen.

A familiar, slightly arrogant smirk flickered across his face. "When you decide it's time." He stroked the scar above his left eye, as if in thought. "You can't be a victim forever. It's boring."

His words, seemingly arrogant, she knew concealed something else. It was his way of making her move forward, not drown in self-pity. He understood her yearning for justice, for he himself was its prisoner.

"I feel like I can't do this anymore. Relatives, their problems, studies... I just can't cope."

Leona pulled away to look into her eyes. His emerald eyes were so perceptive. "Then don't cope."

She flinched. "What?"

"Stop trying to cope with everything at once. You don't have to be all-powerful. If they're dragging you down, let go."

"But how...?"

"Easily. Put yourself first. Why should you carry other people's problems if they don't want to solve them themselves? You don't need to prove anything to anyone." He looked at her with such intensity that she felt exposed. "You don't have to be a queen. You have to be yourself."

His words hit home. All her life, she had been taught to be strong, to cope, to carry everything. And Leona, this lazy and arrogant prince, seemed to see right through her. He understood her inner conflict, her deeply rooted desire for recognition and justice, because he was just like her.

"I'm so tired of all this," she buried her face in his shoulder again.

"I know," his voice softened. "But you're not alone."

That was what she needed to hear. Not empty reassurances, not lectures, but a simple confirmation of his presence.

"I wish her death hadn't been so... meaningless," she mumbled. "She went through so much, and then that doctor..."

Leona squeezed her hand. "Sometimes life is unfair. That doesn't mean you have to break." His gaze was firm. "It means you have to become stronger. For yourself."

He stood up, pulling her with him. "Come on. You need to eat."

She resisted. "I don't want to."

"But I said you need to," a hint of the domineering tone she knew so well from him entered his voice. And that was exactly what she needed—someone to take control when she had no strength herself.

She let him lead her. He prepared something simple but nutritious for her. It was hard for her to swallow, but she ate, knowing Leona wouldn't back down. He sat opposite her, silently watching her, his lion ears twitching slightly from time to time.

After breakfast, he suggested they go for a walk. "You need to clear your head. Lying around is useless."

She reluctantly agreed. They walked slowly through the park, under the warm June sun. Leona walked slightly ahead, his long tail swaying from side to side. He was so graceful, so strong. Next to him, she felt safe.

"I feel like I'll never get over this," she said softly.

Leona turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. "Get over it—no. Accept it—yes. The pain won't leave, but it will change. It will become a part of you. And you will learn to live with it."

He spoke of pain with surprising calm, as if it were something he knew well. Perhaps his own experiences of rejection and injustice gave him this understanding.

They reached the lake. Leona sat on the grass, leaning against the trunk of an old oak. She sat down beside him. He didn't try to entertain her or talk about trivialities. He just was. His presence was tangible, firm, like a rock.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air. Next to Leona, even on this day of mourning and sorrow, she felt less alone. He was her anchor, her support, that rare person who saw the real her, with all her wounds and weaknesses, and still remained by her side. And at that moment, in the silence of the park, protected by his strong shoulder, she felt a tiny, barely perceptible sprout of hope breaking through the thick despair. Perhaps life was indeed hurtling into an abyss, but as long as she had Leona, she wouldn't let herself fall completely. He was the thread she clung to to survive.

[enviedear]

omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die

protective!billy bonney...

babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.

tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)

request

it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.

it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.

it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.

you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.

"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.

you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.

the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"

his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.

the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.

the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."

your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.

"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.

the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.

"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"

you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.

"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.

the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."

you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."

the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."

but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.

the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.

you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.

"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."

the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.

you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.

you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.

together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[galaxygermdraws]

Finally designing the Sonic cast. or. at least. Some of them. There are too many characters in this franchise these are just the ones I think about the most often. So uh. Ya. I will leave any notes under the cut since I have a lot, although not every character will have notes because we haven't explored every character (and share them with @shadesofvermillionvoid)

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)

Sonic

Sonic's earring is Chip's bracelet. I don't think Sonic particularly likes having anything on his wrists, and Sonic Forces made that worse

The regulators are based directly on Sonic Prime, as I love the regulators in that show and think the idea of giving Sonic something similar to Shadow's Inhibitor Rings makes a lot of sense

He got those little markings due to accidentally absorbing some of Chaos' DNA

Tails

Tails has goggles like in Sonic Boom, because I like Boom Tails' design

He still has his robotic bits from Sonic Lost World, he still managed to keep his free will, but what happened was Zavok used his ability to control robots to force Tails to fight Sonic. Since then, Tails has updated his cybernetics so he can filter out any suspicious frequencies that could take his free will.

The cannon arm from Lost World is now basically like the guns from Mario and Rabbids, where you hold it in your hand and it like covers your arm. It's like that

Tails is a skeptic. This is the funniest bit but also thanks to Boom (the bad luck episode) it has some precedence

Knuckles

Knuckles in our lore is deeply spiritual (we are developing Mobian belief systems because we are Insane) , and the first time he saw Sonic he noticed he looked similar to the murals in Hidden Palace. So when Sonic turned out to be good, that made sense to him, as Sonic was common in a lot of prophetic murals around the island.

Knux actually thought Sonic was a god at first. Then he saw him choke on a Chili Dog.

He put beads around his spines after the events of Sonic Forces, since the war was over and he could relax for the first time in months.

Amy

Amy, like Knuckles, actually has a deep connection to her belief systems. We haven't figured out everything exactly, but she and Knuckles quickly bond over this aspect of their lives

I styled her quills differently because I kind of like giving her something that makes it obvious she is a hedgehog

Similarly, I gave her a back spine, and the hedgehog nose, since I had never realized she has the same kind of nose as Tails or Cream

Shadow

Shadow wears eye makeup. He puts it on every morning. For a while he had to have help with it (from both Rouge and Amy), but eventually figured out how to do it himself

He has yellow sclera due to the Black Arms blood. Similarly, he has a longer tail than most Mobian hedgehogs, and he cannot retract his fangs. His blood is green

He has some less favorable urges. Mostly related to the whole "Black Arms feed on living creatures" things, but they don't crop up often

He and Rouge have matching earrings

Rouge

I based her design off of Sonic Prime because I honestly prefer that design more. One because she looks like an actual spy, and two because it's based on her Sonic Heroes design. Similarly, she has Prim's hair tuft

Gave her the bat nose a lot of people do because I like the way it looks

I don't have a lot of thoughts about Rouge as of right now I am so sorry.

She and Shadow have matching earrings

Silver

Silver has a lot more scrapes and burns from his future, even though it's been fixed several times

He is displaced from time. He doesn't feel connected to his current future, especially since in our lore he is one of the few people to remember Sonic 06 (it's because in our lore, Timeline B Silver got his powers from Mephiles, in the sense that those time powers had to go SOMEWHERE after the timeline reset.)

I am going to be designing a weird messed up form for Silver (like Werehog or Doom Morph for Sonic and Shadow) based probably on Mephiles to some extent

Blaze

Like Silver, she has remnants of powers from the previous timeline. She already had fire powers in Timeline A, but she has much stronger ones now, as she still has Iblis inside of her, although the powers are no longer destructive, as they were never provoked

Her dimension is actually a result of Solaris ceasing to exist. That power still existed and had to go somewhere, so it ended up resulting in the Sol Dimension.

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 58]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Nia, Tobias, and Junie talk with Will, and run into someone unexpected.

-

Nia wakes up all on her own for once. She’s cozy and warm, and it takes a few minutes to realize where she is, tucked away into one of the alcoves of the inn they’d stayed at the night before.

She relishes the chance to move at her own pace, and stretches as she slips down to the stone ground. The torracat innkeeper, Clara, is nowhere to be seen, and bright sunlight and distant conversation stream in through the open windows.

Nia yawns as she walks outside, leaning against the warm stone wall enclosing the city so she can get a good look at the settlement in daylight.

The buildings stretching on either side of her are a blend of tan and brown, made of stones and clay. Little pops of color come from billowing curtains and a mural painted onto the side of one of the buildings.

Nia leans to see it better, heart aching as she recognizes humans and animals painted with painstaking detail, too unique to be anything but real, remembered loved ones. They’re relaxing in front of a house, a forest behind them and a city visible in the distance. It’s one of the most human sights Nia has seen since coming to this world.

It’s beautiful.

Nia tears her eyes away, leaning back to look instead at the top of the cliffs above them. The solidity of the mesa is a comforting strength, anchoring the buildings carved from its face.

At Nia’s back, over the stone wall, the sky is a bright blue above a canyon of rocky brown terrain and scraggly green trees. A cool breeze slips by, balancing well with the warm sunshine, and Nia closes her eyes as she takes a deep breath.

Pokemon—humans—pass by her, chatting and laughing amicably. Nia opens her eyes to watch them go about their business.

They look just like regular Pokemon, aside from the clothing and accessories clearly worn for comfort rather than necessity. But somehow, Nia thinks she can tell they’re human in other ways, too, just in how they move, how they walk and talk and act.

A delicate cat Pokemon with purple tufts of fur sits back on her hind legs to gesture with her forepaws as she talks, rather than with her tail or ears. A boulder Pokemon with a lizard-like face keeps overbalancing as he walks, and has to stutter-step on his short legs to regain his equilibrium before he tips over. A round little dragon Pokemon, blue with a shark-like fin and a red underbelly, grins wide as she spots a friend, her fangs on full display in a way that would feel distinctly threatening to Nia coming from a natural-born Pokemon.

They’re human, just like her. They don’t fit into this world quite right. It’s comforting, somehow, knowing that they’re all in the same boat Nia is. Knowing that no one here is going to get upset about her wanting to go home because that’s what they want, too.

On some level, Nia wishes she could stay here with them. She wishes she could forget that she has obligations to this world, to Giratina and Tobias and her guild. Some part of her just wants to…relax. No more scary fights with criminals. No more heartbreak from helping injured ‘mon after a natural disaster or mystery dungeon. No more pressure to save the entire world. To save multiple worlds.

…Would Nia leave Tobias and Maggie and everyone at the guild behind, for that kind of security? That kind of peace?

Her heart stabs with grief, and then with shame. No, she…she doesn’t think she could.

Even if she kind of wishes she could.

“Finally awake?”

Nia jumps, straightening up at Tobias’ voice. Her partner walks up to her, holding something in his hand. When he reaches her, he plops it on the rock wall. Something small, wrapped in cloth?

A delicious scent reaches Nia’s nose, making her stomach rumble. She unwraps the little package and perks up when she realizes it’s some kind of…burrito? She wastes no time stuffing it into her mouth, moaning at the taste. It has gooey cheese, vegetables that taste similar to potatoes and peppers, and…eggs? How does that work here?

Nia chooses not to question it.

“Thank you!” Nia says between bites.

Tobias leans away from her, torn between amusement and disgust. “Figured you’d be hungry, but you don’t have to go feral on me. They have more.”

He juts a thumb back the way he came. Must be the cafeteria. Or maybe a restaurant or something.

Nia just hums a happy sound, continuing to stuff her face. The ingredients have a distinctly non-human taste to them, the spicy red bits just a step to the left of a human world pepper, but it’s still undeniably human-inspired.

She’s just finishing her last bite when she hears “Nia!” from somewhere up above.

Nia looks up, hand over her eyes. Junie peels away from a small flock of flying types, diving down and flapping to a stop just before she would‘ve crashed into the top of the stone wall.

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” Nia whines, hand on her chest.

“It’s fun!” Junie chirps. Her eyes are bright. “You ready to try out the baths? I’ve been waiting for like an hour! Firebutt said I shouldn’t wake you.”

Tobias casually shoves Junie off the rock wall. She disappears over the edge with a squawk, then flutters back up with a glare.

Oh, the baths! She’d forgotten. “I’d love to try them, but don’t we need to talk to Will?”

“He can’t meet with us until later,” Tobias grumbles. “Fidel said he’d come find us when he’s ready.”

“Which means we can try their fancy baths!” Junie presses.

Nia smiles, then falters when she looks at Tobias. “You could come with us and see if they have, uh…anything for fire types?”

Tobias waves her off. “Go splash around in your fancy water. I’m not done looking around anyways.”

Nia watches him a moment longer, uncertain. He’d been in a bad mood last night, and they hadn’t had a chance to talk about it. Before she can push, though, Junie is flapping madly at her back, nudging her forward by her shoulders.

“C’mon! C’mon!”

Nia laughs, letting the rookidee guide her towards whichever building the baths are housed in. “I’m going, I’m going! We’ll come find you when we’re done, Tobias!”

Nia hears Tobias grunt in agreement before she’s pulled away entirely.

————————————————————————————————

The bathhouse is impressive, a larger building with a few deep, bathtub-like basins cut out of the stone floor. Tiny lidded pots circle the edge of each one, and there’s a makeshift drain cut into the bottom of each basin.

Late morning seems to be an unpopular bath time for the settlement. There’s a large white-and-black sheep Pokemon taking up almost the entirety of one basin, dozing peacefully in milky water. Nia can’t imagine cleaning up the wet fluff he’ll leave behind will be fun.

The only other Pokemon inside are a grumpy-looking anteater with fiery colors and pipe-like ridges on his body, and a large blue toad Pokémon with bubble-like lumps on his arms and head. The two of them are standing at a counter and the toad greets Nia and Junie with casual hospitality, so they probably run the place.

After confirming that they’re here for a bath, the anteater ambles over to a wooden ladder that leads up through a gap in the ceiling. He climbs it and disappears onto the second floor.

The toad leads them to one of the smaller bath basins, placing a cover over the drain and warning them to stay back. Then, a wooden gutter is lowered from the ceiling at an angle, tipped right over the bath. A few moments later, steaming hot water gushes down the gutter and begins to fill the basin.

“Whoa,” Junie murmurs.

Nia watches, fascinated, and looks up to find more gutters inlaid into the ceiling, each positioned above a different basin. It’s a really cool system. How long would it take to make something like this?

The toad gathers a few of the clay pots filled with soaps, offering them for a sniff so Nia and Junie can pick a scent they agree on before pouring it into the bath. Once they do, the water quickly froths with bubbles and the soft, soothing scent of lavender wafts throughout the room.

Junie hops onto Nia’s shoulder, watching the toad Pokemon work. Then she whispers, “D’you think he makes the water himself?”

Nia twists up her mouth. “What? No!”

“He might,” Junie says, playfully serious. “He looks like a water type, and we don’t know where that water comes from.”

“So you think he just spits it out himself?!”

“I’d bet ten breakfast burritos that that fire type went upstairs to heat up the water. Why else would they need a water type here too?”

Nia looks again at the toad, pasting on a smile when he glances their way. “Wouldn’t that be…unhygienic? It would come from his mouth!”

“I’m just saying! It’s gotta be hard to get fresh water up here. A water type would be super handy for that.”

Nia hates that she has a point.

When the basin is mostly full, the toad croaks a signal of some kind, and the water trickles to a stop. The ropes holding the gutter in place reel up, lifting it to lock back into the ceiling.

The toad wishes them a relaxing bath and says to let him know if they need anything. He lays a couple of cloth towels on the edge of the bath before ambling away.

Junie wastes no time fluttering into the bath. She stays near the edge where it’s shallower, fluffing her feathers and splashing about like a bird in a fountain before settling into a relaxed puddle.

“Ohhh my God. Nia, get in here, this is awesome.”

Nia hesitates.

“C’mon! You’ve bathed in rivers, right? Water type spit can’t be any more nasty than that!”

“It’s a lot more nasty!” Nia protests, but finally dips a foot in. It’s hot, almost too much so, but it feels wonderful. Slowly, Nia wades in deeper, then sinks down to sit until the water comes up to her chin.

Okay, mouthwater or not, this is so nice. The water feels clean, at least, frothy with bubbles and scented with relaxing lavender. Nia melts into it, slumping against the curve of the rough stone basin and letting her limbs float.

They both relax for a while, soaking in the quiet and warmth, until Junie speaks up.

“So since we’re having girl time—painting our nails, fluffing our hair…”

Nia opens an eye, giving Junie an amused look.

“How’s the whole thing with you and Toby going?”

Nia opens both eyes now, giving her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Junie, floating on the surface of the water like a rubber duck, squints at Nia. “…Huh. So you really are just oblivious. Wonder if Toby is too.”

Nia sits up. “Oblivious? About what?”

Junie waves her off with a wing, sending water droplets scattering. “Nothing. I’ll tell you if it gets annoying.” Then she tilts her head. “Wonder if I could get a betting pool going with your friends at the guild. Oh, Bo would definitely be in.”

“A bet about what?!”

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” Junie dismisses. “Hey, did I ever tell you about the time me and my cousin dumped a bunch of bubble bath into my neighbor’s pool?”

Nia frowns. She’s not happy that Junie is hiding something from her that’s apparently about her, but she knows better than to push when Junie has already made up her mind.

Instead, Nia scrubs at her fur as she listens to Junie’s story, relishing this rare opportunity to take an actual bath for once. She even dunks underneath the water, coming up soaking wet. She shakes out her fur to splash Junie, and the rookidee shrieks and splashes Nia in return.

Eventually the bath starts to cool. Junie hops out first, ruffling her feathers, and Nia uses one of the towels to cover the little bird and rub her dry. Then, when Junie is a puffball, Nia does the same for herself, combing her short claws through her fur to smooth it.

They thank the two Pokemon running the bath, then head outside. Nia takes a deep breath and stretches, enjoying the way the cool breeze slips through her nearly-dry fur.

“What now?” Junie says, looking up at Nia. “Find Toby?”

“Probably. We’ll need to meet with Will soon, and I want to make sure Tobias is doing all right. He seemed a bit upset last night.”

“Don’t know how you can tell that apart from his usual grouchiness,” Junie jokes. She flaps into the air. “I’ll look for him!”

Nia watches as Junie swoops over the rock wall and to the left, flying high above the canyon below. She really has made a lot of progress since they last saw her. Nia needs to thank Bo for looking out for her friend and teaching her so much in such a short amount of time.

Nia shakes her head and goes right, looking around for her partner’s distinctive orange scales. People wave and nod to her as she passes, and she stops once or twice to exchange quick pleasantries with ‘mon they met at the convention.

Nia smiles as she walks by a hopscotch court drawn onto the stone walkway. Pokemon—probably on the younger side from how they screech and chase each other, stumbling over too-large paws and feet—play on it, hopping across and jeering at one another. A Pokemon that looks like a cross between a honeycomb and a bee floats effortlessly over the hopscotch squares, and two other kids (notably on two legs) yell that that’s cheating.

It’s just past the kids that Nia spots Tobias, leaning against the rock wall and watching the children play with a distant expression. He looks up when he notices her.

“Hey. Get your fill of fancy water?”

“I did, thank you very much.” Nia reaches his side and bumps his shoulder, then holds up her arm. “Feel my fur.“

“Why?”

“It’s soft! Seriously, feel it!”

Tobias rolls his eyes, but pets the fur on her arm. Then he stops, looking surprised, and does it again, as if entranced.

Nia laughs, and Tobias yanks his hand away.

He looks away, flushing. “It’s…fine.”

“Smell me too! I smell like a candle!”

She leans closer to him, and Tobias shoves her back, cheeks burning darker. “I’m not smelling you, you weirdo!”

Nia laughs again, burying her nose into her own neck fluff to take a deep whiff. Oh, she is going to miss these fancy baths. Her fur is silky smooth, finally free of dirt and sweat. She needs to talk to Maggie about getting something like this at the guild. She bets she could get a petition going.

Junie finds them shortly after, alighting on the rock wall and smirking at Tobias, who is still cherry-red. It’s pretty adorable.

“What’d you do?”

“Made him pet my arm.”

“Ooh. That’s evil.“

“I just wanted him to feel how soft my fur is!”

“Exactly.”

Before Nia can decode what Junie is talking about, someone clears their throat behind her. She turns, surprised, and looks up to see a brown deer Pokemon with yellow, eye-like antlers smiling down at the three of them.

“Hello. I hope you all slept well.” He takes a sniff of the air. “I see you found the baths!”

Normally Nia isn’t one to turn down a friendly conversation, even with a stranger, but the casual greeting makes even her pause. Then, her eyes widen as she recognizes the voice. “Oh! Fidel?”

“At your service.” Fidel bows his head, then transforms with a flash of purple light back into his zoroark form from the night before.

“Why do you morph so much?” Junie asks with a tilt of her head. “If you aren’t gonna prank people like Asher, then it seems like a lot of effort.”

Fidel laughs. “Not at all! That’s like asking why a water type swims if he doesn’t have anywhere to be. It’s instinctive. Like…stretching a muscle. Keeps us sharp, too, for situations where we do need to transform.”

“Such as?” Tobias asks, crossing his arms.

“Well…” Fidel thinks for a moment. “It’s important to be able to disguise in more populated areas. Especially if we need information but want to stay discreet. If we blend in, no one questions us.”

“‘Us?’”

“Asher and I.”

“You bring your son along on missions?”

Nia elbows Tobias, giving him a look. She knows he’s suspicious of Will and Fidel and everyone else here. He doesn’t need to be rude about it!

“I like to have him close by,” is all Fidel says, though his smile is tight. He flicks an ear, then turns. “Come along. We can talk as we walk. Will is available if you’re ready to meet with him.”

“Sure!” Nia trots after the zoroark, and Junie lands on her shoulder a moment later. She can hear Tobias follow after them.

As Fidel asks how they liked breakfast, he leads them to a building nestled right in the middle of the settlement. It doesn’t look any different from the others, medium-sized with slices cut from the clay and stone to act as windows. The zoroark opens the front door, leading them in.

The area inside is relatively small. It’s a sitting area of sorts, with cushions around a small fire pit, and a table with chairs nearby. A wooden ladder against the wall leads up through a gap to the second floor.

“This is more of a casual meeting area,” Fidel explains. He leads them to a door at the back wall without breaking stride. “But considering the sensitive nature of the conversation we have in mind, we’ll meet with Will in the back.”

“‘The back?’” Junie whispers. “Okay, that does sound sketchy.”

“Not you too!” Nia mutters. “Come on, he just wants some privacy. We are talking about the end of the world here!”

Nia follows Fidel through the door. Considering it’s set against the back wall, where the building meets flush against the cliffside, she expects to enter a small room. A bedroom, maybe.

Instead, Nia stops in surprise as a cool draft slips past her.

Junie, on her shoulder, murmurs, “Whoa.”

Ahead of them, Fidel moves without hesitation into a…tunnel. It must cut straight into the cliffside, and it goes deeper than Nia can immediately see the end of. It isn’t dark, though, instead lit by lanterns lining the walls.

“Wait,” Nia steps closer to get a better look at the lights. “Are these using—“

“Electricity?!” Junie shouts, making Nia wince.

“Hm?” Fidel pauses, looking back from his place farther ahead. “Oh! Yes, aren’t those incredible? Ash is pretty taken with them. You humans have come up with some amazing technology.”

“How’re they…holding the electricity?” Tobias asks, clearly curious but not wanting to make it obvious. He looks at Nia and Junie, the two humans in the tunnel.

Junie holds up her wings. “Don’t look at me!”

Nia’s brow furrows as she tries to remember elementary school lessons from over a decade ago. “W-Well. In the human world I think electricity runs through a…wire? And it heats up until it’s so hot that it glows. I think that’s how it worked with old bulbs, at least.”

“But where does the electricity come from?” Junie asks. “They don’t have outlets and wires and stuff here.”

“Our electric type residents give us the energy we need,” Fidel answers, waiting patiently farther down the hall. “Will has been trying to set up electric lighting in all the buildings, but it’s difficult with only a few electric types living here and such a big area to cover. He also has the tendency to get distracted by other projects, so for now this one is on hold.”

“I get that. I’m easily distracted too,” Junie says, tracking a dust mote as it floats by.

“Speaking of…” Fidel says. His voice is light, but he tilts his head in a clear bid for them to keep moving.

“Oh! Right!” Nia hurries to catch up to Fidel.

The tunnel goes a bit farther into the mountainside before opening up to a large room, also dimly lit by electric lanterns. There are three more tunnels leading out of the room, and Nia wonders for a moment what kind of rooms they lead to and how deep they go.

A table sits in the middle of this room, with round cuts of stone positioned around it to act as stools. There’s also a large bookshelf full of tomes against the far wall, and a desk covered with papers at its side.

Hovering at the desk is Will. The yamask is crowded close to someone Nia thinks, for a moment, is a decoration rather than a Pokemon. They almost look like a mix between a totem pole—all colorful geometric patterns and black accents—and a…bird? They have thin, angular wings, and bring to mind art that Nia had seen somewhere in the human world. Maybe Native American or South American pieces? They have no hands, so they’re holding onto a few of the papers with psychic energy. The two of them are murmuring to each other, deep in discussion.

Fidel clears his throat.

Will’s thoughtful frown vanishes as he looks up. “Ah, come in, come in! It’s good to see you three again.”

Will hands his own papers over to the totem-bird, then leaves their side to greet the newcomers. He shakes Nia’s hand, skin cold in the brief moment of contact, and nods with a warm smile at Tobias and Junie.

“Good to see you too!” Junie chirps. “Nice digs you’ve got here.”

Will chuckles. “Thank you. It’s not much, but it works well enough. We wanted to build a safe inner space in case the outer homes became uninhabitable in poor weather, but it doubles as a great area for our research. And for discussing more, ah, sensitive topics.”

The totem-bird tilts their way at that, looking at them with a single cyan eye. Then they wordlessly take the papers they’d been reading and hover down one of the tunnels until they’re out of sight.

Will gestures to the table. “Would you like to sit? I hear you all had a long journey yesterday.”

“We did!” Junie says. She sits first on one of the stools, and then—when that’s too short for her to see over—opts instead to perch on the edge of the table itself. “I thought my feet were gonna fall off.”

“We carried you half the way!” Tobias protests, taking a seat for himself.

“Nia did.”

“You don’t weigh a lot,” Nia says, taking a seat too. “But we were definitely happy to see this place. Thank you for letting us stay for a few days.”

“Of course,” Will says. “Any human—or friend of humans—is a friend of ours. Our little settlement has grown a lot in the past few months, but we’re always happy to see new faces.”

“And yet somehow everything here is free,” Tobias says, almost casual if not for the accusatory stare he’s sending Will’s way.

Will sits down across from Nia, placing his golden mask face-up on the table. Unsettling human eyes stare blankly at the rock ceiling. “We have quite a few of our people acting as gatherers, and we’re working on building an agricultural system for this climate as well. So we don’t need to buy much to survive.”

“But you buy some of it.”

Nia kicks Tobias lightly under the table, fighting to keep a pleasant expression on her face. He stubbornly refuses to look her way.

“We do,” Will agrees. “We sell some of the goods the artisans make here, like our soaps, tools, and clothes, and that gives us a decent fund for necessities.”

“Human-made goods are considered luxury items,” Fidel adds, taking a spot at Will’s left shoulder, like a second-in-command at a guild. Even from his place on the floor, he’s taller than everyone sitting on the stools. “Humans craft differently than Pokemon do.”

“They really bring in that much coin?” Tobias asks, clearly doubtful.

“Dude,” Junie says, looking both amused and exasperated.

Will laughs. “Tobias, if I’ve done something to earn such distrust, you’re more than welcome to ask me about it directly. Or in private, if you prefer.”

Tobias’ face flushes, embarrassed to be called out. But he just huffs and crosses his arms, leaning back as far as he can on the stool without falling off.

“Look, you haven’t done anything…wrong, really. You just make a lot of promises that I’m not convinced you can keep, and you’re so vague about everything. Plus, you’re, y’know.”

Tobias gestures vaguely at Will.

Will just seems amused by this conversation. He raises his brows. “I’m..?”

“That!” Tobias says, pointing with a scowl. “You have all the reason in the world to get mad about me being so suspicious of you, but you aren’t.”

Nia peeks at Will, embarrassed and guilty and yet somehow a little relieved that Tobias is just putting everything out there.

Will hums, leaning forward to rest his chin on interlaced hands. “Well, I’m certainly not going to get angry with you for being cautious. I actually think a bit of suspicion is healthy when dealing with those you don’t know well.”

Nia blinks at Will, surprised. He’s always seemed so welcoming, so Nia had assumed he was more like her and just put his trust into people.

Tobias makes a low sound, unconvinced.

“As for being vague and making promises?” Will’s smile turns a little sad, a little self-deprecating. “I suppose in a way, you’re correct about that.”

Tobias doesn’t reply, waiting for Will to elaborate.

“While we are looking into all the leads we can, we don’t have as many answers as I would like to have by this point.”

“But you said you could get us home,” Nia says, voice small.

Will locks eyes with her. “And I promise you I will. That’s why I’m all right with making such promises despite not knowing exactly how I will achieve them. This is all I care about in this world. In a way, it is my life’s work. And I’m determined to accomplish it and return us home, no matter what.”

Nia nods, trying to swallow the uncertainty in her chest. There’s so much conviction in Will’s voice, a fire in his eyes, that she can’t help but believe him.

Tobias, on the other hand, still seems unsatisfied.

“And the funds to build this place?” Tobias asks. “You didn’t have any artisan ‘mon or goods to sell until after it was made, right?”

“Correct. I saved up for years to get the money, doing odd jobs and the like,” Will answers. “And I made quite a few friends over that time who were willing to help me get it started.“

“Like myself,” Fidel confirms, smiling. “Will and I were friends before we started working towards the same goal. He’s the one who told me all about the human world.”

“And that’s why you want to go to the human world with Asher?” Junie asks. “Because Will is?”

Fidel’s happy expression fades. “I decided long ago to follow Will, but like most of the other natural-born Pokemon who want to cross over, this world’s deterioration is definitely a factor. I…worry. About Asher growing up here. Perhaps the human world will be kinder.”

“I don’t know if the human world would be kinder, really. I like this place better, personally.” Junie glances at Nia. “But to each their own, I guess.”

“The human world can be plenty nice,” Nia protests.

“Even if they don’t turn into humans when they cross over?” Tobias asks.

Nia opens her mouth, then closes it, looking away. Which she knows is an answer in itself.

Fidel doesn’t seem surprised. “Even if we don’t turn into humans ourselves, we always have our illusions to rely on. They’ve gotten us this far.”

“I’m sure we can get you set up just fine,” Will says, all confidence. “I’ve learned a few things about making a new life in a new world since coming here, and I was doing just fine in the human world before.”

Nia perks up at that. “Oh! Right! You probably remember your human life since you’re a yamask, right?”

“What did you do before becoming a Pokemon?” Junie asks curiously. “Were you like a motivational speaker or something?”

“I was an accountant,” Will laughs. “Incredibly boring work, I’m afraid. I’m more interested in knowing about you all! Nia, you said in your letter that you remembered a bit about your human life after falling ill, correct?”

“Yes!” Nia leans over the table in her excitement. She’s shared a few of her memories with Tobias, and he sort of gets it since he lost his own family, but not completely. He wasn’t human, after all. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember some things about my family! I have a mom and a brother, Clay. And my best friend Toni is basically my sister.”

“That’s wonderful,” Will says, smiling warmly. “I can tell you’re close by how you talk about them. I’m sure they miss you terribly.”

Nia feels a stab of grief in her chest, so abrupt that it steals her breath away. She doesn’t like thinking about that, about her family wondering where she is and when she’s coming back and if she’s okay. “Y-Yeah. I really miss them, too.”

She misses joking around with Clay and Toni. Misses talking about school and everyday nonsense with her mom. Misses their house and their old swingset and the comforting routine of her human life.

Slowly, Nia sits back on her stool again.

“It’ll be all right,” Will says, reaching across the table to pat Nia’s hand. Despite the cold, it’s comforting. Almost parental. “We’ll get you back home to your family. I promise you that.”

Nia gives him a watery smile in response.

“Have you recovered any memories?” Will asks, looking at Junie next.

Junie cringes. “Uh. Yeah, some. I don’t, um. Really wanna go back, though.”

“Is that so?” Will asks, visibly surprised.

Junie opens her mouth, probably to deflect. Then her eyes flick to Nia, and she sighs. “…Look, I don’t have a lot I want to go back to, okay? I’m still too young to live on my own and I don’t have the best relationship with my parents. They don’t  really…like me. They think I’m too annoying.”

Nia hears Fidel suck in a breath. Will frowns. Even Tobias seems offended on Junie’s behalf. Nia tries to parse the words she just heard.

Too annoying? Sure, kids can be a bit much, but what kind of parent doesn’t like their own child? And openly enough for their child to state it as surely as the sky is blue or the grass is green? Like it’s fact?

“But they love you, right?” Nia asks, quiet.

Junie scoffs. “Sure. Maybe. Doesn’t matter if I can’t tell, though.”

There are a few moments of heavy silence.

Nia suddenly understands Junie’s adoration of Bolat. The skarmory is clearly as fond of her as she is of him, which must’ve been…new, for her.

Nia’s heart aches.

Fidel speaks up first, expression pained. “I’m sorry to hear that, Junie. No child should ever feel unloved by their parents.”

“Guess my parents didn’t get the memo,” Junie mumbles. “Probably happy to be rid of me, honestly.”

“Then that is their loss,” Will says, sharper than Nia expects.

Another moment of uncomfortable silence. Even Junie and Tobias look surprised by Will’s anger, sudden and biting. Nia would’ve expected Fidel to be angry, being a parent himself, but…

Will takes a deep breath, then lets it out, smoothing one hand across the tabletop. The other latches onto his golden mask. “…Apologies. I’m afraid that’s a bit of a sore spot for me. Well, for the both of us, I suppose.”

“Did…” Nia hesitates. She doesn’t want to be nosy, but… “Do you have kids? In the human world?”

Will smiles. “I do. Well, I expect I do by now.”

“You expect you do?” Tobias asks.

“When I first came to this world, my wife was pregnant. If time passes at the same rate in both worlds, then our daughter was born years ago.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nia murmurs.

“Thank you.” Will’s voice is rough, so he clears his throat before speaking again. “You can imagine why I’m so set on finding a way home.”

The yamask’s gaze shifts down. He strokes wispy black fingers down his mask, tracing the lifeless eyes etched there.

“I did not have the greatest parents myself, Junie,” Will continues. “But I was…so excited to be a father. I just can’t understand parents like yours. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that.”

Junie shifts on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “Oh. Um…thanks? I’m not too broken up about it anymore. I think I like this place better anyways.”

Will looks up at that. “…I suppose that’s good. Just remember that there’s more than your parents’ disapproval waiting for you in the human world. They matter much less when you’re an adult, and I wouldn’t want you to avoid returning to the human world for something so temporary. You still have a whole life ahead of you.”

Junie looks like she wants this conversation to be over, so she just nods. “I guess I can understand why you want to go back so badly, if you have a wife and kid you actually like.”

“I just want to know they’re all right,” Will says. He gives Nia a sad smile. “I expect you want the same, with your own family. To see them again. Laugh with them and hold them. Grow old with them.”

“More than anything,” Nia says, throat tight.

It’s one thing to have someone be sympathetic to her situation, but it’s different knowing they actually understand where you’re coming from. That they’re feeling the exact same pain you are. Even Hazel, sweet as she is, has already established a life here in the Pokemon world. She has a husband and kids and grandkids. A business and a life. She’s lived here for decades. It’s just not the same.

But Will gets it. He gets it.

“Now,” Will says. He straightens, face falling back into a more neutral expression. “Much as I’d love to sit and reminisce, I believe you came here for a reason, yes? You mentioned to Fidel that you have important information regarding the natural disasters.”

Nia has to take a moment to collect herself, so Tobias starts. “Yeah. Recently, we learned the cause for…well, everything that’s happening in our world, basically. Not just the natural disasters. Nia thought you might be able to help us with a solution.”

Will exchanges a serious look with Fidel. “That’s…certainly more than we were expecting. Please, tell us what you know.”

Tobias glances at Nia. She gives him a weak smile and a thumbs-up, so he gestures with his chin for her to start. They’re getting good at summarizing everything they’ve learned so far, after retelling the sequence of events to Maggie, August, and Junie.

“You know the letter I sent a while ago?” Nia asks. “About Giratina trying to pull me into the stream?”

Will’s expression darkens. Fidel, behind him, frowns but doesn’t look surprised. Will must keep him in the loop.

“Yes?”

“I did some research,” Tobias says. “And realized there was someone who could give us some answers about Giratina. A shedinja to the south, named Edme.”

Will’s face twitches, brow furrowing before smoothing out again.

“We got sidetracked on a different mission first, though,” Nia says. “And long story short, Giratina sort of…helped us out?”

With how Will had insisted humans avoid Giratina at all costs, Nia expects the yamask to look surprised.

Fidel does.

Will simply narrows his eyes, calm and collected. “You’re certain about that? That he was trying to help you?”

Nia exchanges a look with Tobias.

“Preeetty sure,” Tobias drawls. “We probably would’ve died on that mission without him.”

Fidel’s ears pin back, alarm passing over his face. He looks at the three of them in turn, as if to make sure they’re all right.

Will simply hums. “Interesting.”

That’s…it?

“That’s it?” Tobias asks, echoing Nia’s thoughts. His tone is more caustic than the voice in her head, though. “You were so against anyone even talking to Giratina in Ghatha, but you believe that he was helping us? Just like that?”

“Oh, I don’t believe that he helped you out of the goodness of his heart,” Will says, waving the idea away. “I can believe that he helped you, as long as there’s another motive behind his actions.”

“You’re…not wrong,” Nia admits. “I, uh. Actually talked to him, in Shivergleam.”

Will frowns. “You talked to Giratina?”

“Through a reflection?” Fidel asks.

Tobias snorts. “Nope. Edme tricked us and Giratina pulled Nia into his dimension for a little chat.”

“What?” Will floats off his seat. “You were pulled into the Distortion World?”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Fidel asks.

“What did he say to you?” Will cuts in.

“W-Well…” Nia leans back from the intense expression on Will’s face. “He told me his side of the story, I guess? Everyone thinks he was banished to the Distortion World because he attacked another legendary, but Giratina and Edme said that wasn’t true.”

“Likely story,” Will murmurs. He shakes his head. “Continue, please.”

“Um. He said that the fight between him and Cresselia started because Arceus went dormant, and the other legendaries panicked. Since more and more of them were falling asleep and they didn’t know why, tensions were, uh. High. He told the other legendaries off for abandoning the mortal realm and Cresselia attacked him. He was just defending himself.”

Will makes a doubtful sound in his throat, clearly not buying it. Fidel seems more open to the idea, frowning but listening intently.

“The Lake Trio banished him to the Distortion World in all the chaos,” Tobias picks up. “And now Giratina can’t do anything, since he’s stuck there. But he thinks he knows why everything is falling apart—why the legendaries are going dormant, why the mystery dungeons are forming, why the natural disasters are increasing, even why humans are showing up.”

That makes Will straighten, eyes flashing. “They’re all connected? Surely us humans don’t have anything to do with it. That’s just fear-mongering.”

“We aren’t causing the disasters,” Nia agrees. “We’re just…another symptom of the root problem, like everything else.”

“And that problem is?”

Nia tries to remember how Giratina had described it. “Giratina said that his world, the Distortion World, is kind of like a…shell. It’s wrapped around the Pokemon world, which would be the fruit. It encases it. Protects it.”

Will nods.

“And it has…borders, somehow. The…outer skin of that shell, I guess. Giratina said that everything that’s happening is from that border weakening.”

“Weakening?” Fidel asks. “Like it’s…wearing thin?”

Tobias shakes his head. “The border is going to break. Something is going to rip right through it and crack the shell wide open.”

“Going to?” Will echoes.

Nia nods. “He said it hasn’t actually happened yet, because time doesn’t work normally there. But the closer we get to that point in time here, the more severe everything gets.”

“And when we reach that point in time…” Will murmurs.

“He pretty much implied the world would end. That it would be a thousand times worse than what we’re currently seeing.”

Fidel’s red mane bristles, like a cat. He looks horrified.

Will, on the other hand, just seems deep in thought. He has one hand at his chin and the other on his mask.

“What could cause something like that?” He murmurs.

“Giratina said it’d probably have to be a legendary,” Nia says. “Since it’d have to be something super powerful, and most Pokemon don’t even have the ability to affect the border. It’s more like…a sheet of life energy or aura, rather than a tangible, touchable thing.”

“But aren’t most legends already dormant?” Fidel asks.

“They are,” Tobias says, dragging a heavy hand over his face to pinch at his eyes. “So we don’t know how it’s going to happen.”

“Is it predetermined?” Will asks. “Inevitable?”

Nia nods. “I suggested trying to stop it before it happened—whatever it is—but Giratina seemed pretty positive that it was set in stone.”

Everyone falls silent as they digest that. Nia can hear the quiet hum of the electric lanterns on the walls. Will is absentmindedly tracing the lines of his mask, brow furrowed. Fidel is glancing anxiously at the tunnel they arrived through, as if itching to go find Asher. Tobias is staring at the lanterns, tapping his claws against the tabletop. Junie, probably wanting a bit of comfort, hops off the table and into Nia’s lap. Nia makes room for her and cards her fingers through the bird’s soft feathers.

“Giratina said that all of this is connected to humans showing up in this world, correct?” Will finally asks.

Nia nods. “Giratina said that the human world—well, a few different worlds, actually—are right next to this one. Like…fruits on a vine. And since the border is weakening, human souls are starting to…slip through, somehow?“

“Mew’s the one who transforms humans into Pokemon and suppresses their memories so they can acclimate better,” Tobias adds. “They were working together, according to Giratina.”

“That would explain how it was done,” Will murmurs. “Considering she is supposedly the progenitor of all Pokemon.”

“Giratina said Mew transformed every lost human she could find,” Nia says. “Any that she missed, turned into, uh…yamask.”

She feels a bit awkward explaining that. Giratina’s words linger in her skull, that yamask have a harder time acclimating to the Pokemon world. That they’re not…built for it, really. Not fully accepted.

Will barks a bitter laugh. “Well, that explains a few things. So if human souls are slipping through without intent, then we are here entirely by accident?”

“Seems like it,” Tobias snorts. “Yet Giratina still decided it’s apparently Nia’s job to fix this mess.”

“And how does he propose you do that?” Fidel asks, wary.

“Well…since the border is made of life energy, and we’re pretty sure it’s going to break no matter what…”

“Our only idea is to fix it immediately after it breaks, before the damage is fully done,” Tobias finishes. “Most legendaries are already dormant, but there are two that were asleep naturally before Arceus fell.”

Fidel’s eyes widen with understanding. “Yveltal and Xerneas?”

“The gods of…destruction and new life, correct?” Will asks.

Nia nods. “Giratina is hoping that since the two of them were already in a 1,000-year sleep cycle, that we can wake them early somehow.“

“Wake Xerneas early,” Tobias corrects. “Yveltal would probably just make everything worse.”

“Hm.” Will tilts his head. “I suppose he would.”

“So that’s our plan.” Nia says, the words feeling anticlimactic. “Right now we’re just trying to find Xerneas.”

“Which I assume is no small feat, if no one has stumbled across her yet,” Will says.

“That’s what we were hoping to get your help with,” Nia admits. “We have no idea where to start. Giratina only said that she should be here somewhere, in the Pokemon world.”

“August, our guild leader, is looking into it with the archivists, but Nia thought you might have different sources of information than they do.”

Will doesn’t answer right away, looking back down at the golden mask on the table. His hands are steepled in front of his mouth. “Nia, did you ask Giratina about returning to the human world while you were in his dimension?“

Nia blinks, caught off-guard by the sudden change in topic. “U-Um. Yeah, I did. He said that attempting anything like that while the border is unstable would basically be suicide.”

“Odd,” Will murmurs. “I would think it would be easier to travel between worlds while the border is weakened.“

Nia had thought the same thing. The border weakening is how they got here in the first place, after all. But either Giratina is wrong about his own domain, or…

Nia frowns, a prick of unease making her shift in her seat. “Do you think he was lying?”

“Perhaps. If Giratina is truly so desperate for your help, Nia, then he wouldn’t want to risk you leaving before the border is fixed. Making you too afraid to even try hopping back to the human world is certainly one way to accomplish that.”

“But why would he need to lie at all?” Junie asks. “This is Nia we’re talking about here. There’s no way she would just leave everyone behind while this world is falling apart. She’d obviously help fix the border before going back to the human world.”

“Either Giratina doesn’t know Nia’s character very well,” Will says, looking up to meet Nia’s eyes. His expression is grave. “Or…”

Nia’s ears pin back under the weight of Will’s gaze. “O-Or what..?”

Will is silent for a long, long moment. “…Or he’s worried that despite your character, you won’t fix the border if you know the consequences of that decision.”

The…consequences?

“Think about it. Fixing the border means sealing the only known entry point between the human world and this one. Which is also our only known exit point.”

It takes a moment for the implications to sink in.

Nia stares at Will, stricken. “If we fix the border…we’ll be stuck in this world forever?”

“It’s a possibility.”

Nia shakes her head. No. No, there has to be a way. Some way to fix this world without cutting off their only route home.

“Breathe, Nia,” Fidel says, quiet.

Nia had almost forgotten the zoroark was here. She looks at him, uncomprehending. He takes an exaggerated breath, waiting for her to match him before releasing it. Once, twice, three times. Slowly, her rising emotions plateau into something manageable.

“S-So then what do we do?” Nia whispers. “I-I can’t—there has to be some way to do both. Some way to fix this world and still get us home.”

“We don’t know that fixing the border will cut off your only way back to the human world,” Tobias points out.

“True,” Will says. He is clearly deep in thought, but he doesn’t seem panicked by this realization. His serene expression calms something in Nia, too. “I had already been looking into methods for traveling between worlds without Giratina’s help anyways, so this is simply another factor to take into consideration.”

“B-But if Giratina thinks it’s impossible—”

“The gods can be wrong just as often as mortals can,” Will says, voice hard.

Nia doesn’t know what to say to that. But strangely, it gives her some hope.

“So…does this mean you’ll help us look for Xerneas?” Tobias asks, eyes narrowed.

“Yes,” Will says, “Whether Giratina is lying or not, the fact of the matter is that we can’t find a way home if we all die from this calamity first. So finding Xerneas to stabilize the border takes priority.”

“How noble of you,” Tobias says, sarcastic.

“It’s basic logic,” Will says with a smile and a shrug. “Of course I want to go home to my world as soon as possible. But first we must survive this world. With any luck, perhaps the answer to one problem will lead us to the answer for the other.”

Will’s confidence that they can still do both—that they can fix this world and find a way back home—feels like a soothing balm over Nia’s frayed nerves. She definitely doesn’t want to abandon this world and everyone in it to a terrible fate, but she doesn’t want to seal away their one chance at returning home to the human world, either.

There has to be a way for everything to work out.

“Thank you,” Nia breathes. She realizes she’s holding Junie a bit too tightly, and relaxes her grip.

“So we’re officially switching focus?” Fidel asks, looking at Will.

The yamask nods. “Yes. Number one priority is to track down Xerneas or Yveltal.”

There’s a beat of quiet.

“Isn’t that the, uh, destruction guy?” Junie asks. “Didn’t we say we don’t want to wake him up?”

“Correct,” Will says. “But if we can find one legendary, their counterpart will likely be nearby, yes?”

They all look to Tobias and Fidel, the two natural-born Pokemon in the room.

Tobias’ face twists in thought. “That…sounds right, but I haven’t heard any stories about Xerneas or Yveltal in forever.”

“I believe legend states that they do sleep near one another,” Fidel confirms.

Will claps, straightening up with a smile. “Excellent. So we have our next step, yes? We locate Xerneas, wake her, and enlist her aid in fixing the border once the break occurs. Do we have a guesstimate for when that will happen?”

“W-Well, Giratina said it would definitely happen within the year. But I don’t think he was sure other than that? It could be sooner.”

Will nods. “Then we shouldn’t delay.”

“Would you like me to notify the research team?” Fidel asks.

“Please do.”

Fidel rises to his paws, shoots Nia, Tobias, and Junie a quick smile, then lopes down the tunnel the totem-bird had disappeared into earlier.

“Thank you so much for helping us with this,” Nia sighs, turning back to Will. “You don’t know how much of a relief it is having your support.”

“Of course,” Will says with a comforting smile. “Thank you for coming to me.“

Will grabs his mask and moves off his stool. Nia and Tobias follow his lead, getting to their feet. Junie hops onto Nia’s shoulder to hitch a ride.

“So what now?” Tobias asks, glancing down the tunnel Fidel and the totem-bird researcher had vanished into. “We go back to the guild and you let us know if you find anything?”

“You’re welcome to stay here at the settlement for a bit,” Will says. “While I doubt we’ll be able to locate either legendary immediately, it should only take a few days for us to give you a better idea of where to search.”

“That soon?” Nia asks.

Will floats a bit higher, looking proud. “My research team has access to a wide array of resources. Give us a couple of days and we can give you at least a vague idea of where to start looking.”

Nia smiles. “That sounds great. Thank you, Will.”

“Of course,” Will gestures towards the tunnel they entered from, as if to guide them back outside. “We’ll be sure to keep you updated, but let Fidel or I know if you need anything in the meantime.“

“Why the rush, Will?”

Nia nearly trips over her own paws, not expecting the distinctly feminine voice from the mouth of one of the inner tunnels. It sounds strangely familiar too, light and teasing with a sharp undertone, but surely it can’t be—

“Rosalind?” Tobias hisses under his breath.

Sure enough, there’s a hatterene leaning casually against the opening of one of the tunnels, her pink and blue colors bright against the natural tones of the cave. She has that same sly smile curling at her lips, dark eyes glittering beneath the hat-like piece on her head.

Will squeezes his eyes shut, looking distinctly irritated for a moment before pasting on a smile and turning to meet Rosalind’s eyes. “Rosalind. Finished with your tea?”

Rosalind laughs, dainty and light, then shuffles forward to meet them. “I was wondering who you had to meet with so urgently. You know I like to stay in the loop on these things, Will.”

“That I do,” Will sighs. After a moment of hesitation, he turns to present Rosalind to them. “Nia, Tobias, Junie, this is—"

“We’ve met,” Tobias says, tense.

Will falters, frowning as he looks between the three of them and Rosalind. “…Is that so?”

“It is! These three are some of my cutest little workers.”

“How…nice,” Will says, stilted.

Nia understands the awkward tension in the air. She feels unsure about this whole situation, too. Rosalind isn’t exactly shy about being a shady underworld informant, so why is she here with Will?

For a moment, Nia considers Tobias’ ever-present suspicion of the yamask. Glancing at her partner, who has yet to look away from Rosalind, it’s clear that any rapport Will had built during their previous conversation has been wiped away. And for once, she can’t really blame him. What would Will need Rosalind around for?

…Then again, they needed Rosalind’s help to find the outlaw trio that Tobias is after. Who’s to say Will doesn’t have a similar arrangement?

Nia takes a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. They all have their reasons.

Rosalind’s dark eyes focus on Nia, and her smile grows. Right. Empath. “Good to see you again, Team Scarlet.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Tobias grumbles. He glares openly between Rosalind and Will. “Why are you here? How do you two know each other?”

“How forward of you!” Rosalind mock gasps, putting the hand of her hair-tentacle-arm thing over her mouth. “Don’t you know a lady’s affairs are private?”

Will sighs again. “Rosalind and I are…acquaintances.”

“Is that all we are? Come now, Will, we’ve known each other for years.”

“Rosalind.”

Rosalind smiles sweetly, clearly enjoying herself.

Nia isn’t sure how to feel about…any of this, really.

“Fine, fine.” Rosalind looks back to them. “Consider us…business partners, of a sort. You know that I like to stay informed about all the goings-on in the world. I can’t let an entire group of humans go off on their own without knowing what they’re up to, can I? I’m not very fond of surprises, after all.”

Nia…supposes that makes sense. Still, she exchanges a guarded, doubtful look with Tobias.

“So you get information. What does Will get out of your…partnership?” Tobias asks.

“He already told you some of his assets came from old friends, correct?” Rosalind says.

“You were listening to our conversation?” Junie blurts.

“Yes. A bit rude, perhaps, but it’s also rude to leave a guest waiting.”

“What do you want, Rosalind?” Will asks, sounding very tired.

“So impatient,” Rosalind tsks. Then she smiles at Tobias. “Since fate decided we should cross paths, I just wanted to offer a little tidbit of information that Team Scarlet might be interested in.”

Tobias straightens, eyes flashing. “Is this about..?”

“It is. Are you interested?“

Tobias glances at Will. “Not here. But yeah.”

Rosalind hums. “Fair. Will, darling, would you mind giving us a moment?”

Will does in fact look like he minds, but after a few seconds he relents with a stiff smile. “Of course.” He turns back to the three of them. “I’m going to confer with the research team. I’ll speak with you all later.”

Nia nods with a shaky smile. “Sounds good. Thanks again, Will.”

“Thank you as well,” Will says. Then he turns and heads down the tunnel Fidel had disappeared through, sparing Rosalind one last glance before vanishing.

Rosalind looks back to them. “Now, where were we?”

“First,” Tobias says, arms crossing. “What’s the price?”

Rosalind laughs, louder than earlier . More genuine. “You catch on quickly, don’t you? Good.“

Nia exchanges a worried look with Junie. Rosalind makes her nervous in the best of circumstances, but especially when they’re “negotiating.”

“My price is low this time around. I won’t even draw up a contract, seeing as this meetup was unexpected.” Rosalind leans over them, closer to their faces. Nia leans back, gulping.

“Personal space?” Junie mumbles.

“All I want,” Rosalind whispers, and the quiet tone puts Nia even more on edge. “Is for you to inform me immediately if our dearest Will makes a move to go to the human world.”

Nia blinks. “…W-What? But we aren’t—we’re only trying to find Xerneas right now. He can’t make the jump until we fix—“

“Can’t he?” Rosalind asks, smile dropping. She tilts her head, locking eyes with Nia.

Nia feels her stomach drop.

What exactly is Rosalind implying? That Will isn’t going to do what he says he is? That he’s going to try to go to the human world without fixing the Pokemon world first? He wouldn’t do that, not when it would mean disaster for everyone.

He…wouldn’t, right?

“What do you know?” Tobias asks.

“Mm. Nothing substantial.” Rosalind straightens up with a pleasant smile. “Just a hunch. I’ve known Will for years. He’s more desperate than he appears.”

“E-Even then, he wouldn’t do that,“ Nia protests. “It’s not safe to try until the border is fixed! For either world.”

“I wonder. Grief has it’s own kind of logic, to those desperate enough.”

Nia falls silent, wishing Junie was in her arms to hug instead of perched on her shoulder.

“Anything that sets off alarm bells, you tell me about immediately,” Rosalind reiterates. “Deal?”

“W-Why?” Nia can’t help asking. “Why do you want to know?”

Rosalind tilts her head. “Because that idiot is either going to make a horrible mistake with repercussions that I do not want to deal with, or he is going to be my ticket to safety when this world falls apart. Either way, he cannot be trusted to act in my best interests.”

Nia falls silent. She desperately wants to defend Will, but she also feels like arguing with Rosalind is liable to get her mysteriously injured. Or worse.

“Deal,” Tobias says. “If we notice anything, we’ll let you know as soon as possible.”

Rosalind smiles. “Good. In that case, here’s your payment. Are you familiar with Kaleido Bay?”

That does sound familiar. Nia looks to Tobias.

“The city to the south, right?” He asks, frowning. “Where the road meets the sea?”

“That’s it,” Rosalind says, turning to stroll along the wall of the room. “It’s had trouble with damages recently due to natural disasters, but it’s a lovely little city. Lots of shops.”

“Okay?” Tobias says with a scowl. “What about it?”

“It won’t be to your liking, Charmander,” Rosalind says, reaching out to tap at one of the lantern lights. “Half the city is floating above the waves and other half lies beneath them. However, it does hold something of interest, other than shops.”

Nia glances at Tobias. He’s tracking Rosalind closely, fists balled.

“Kaleido Bay, funny enough, holds a prison under its waves, reserved for particularly dangerous criminals."

Oh. Oh no. Nia’s stomach sinks.

“They caught them?” Tobias rasps, taking a step forward.

“They caught one of them,” Rosalind says, turning back to them. “The pangoro, Dismas. He’s under tight security, but if you’d like to talk to him I can arrange a conversation.”

“Yes.” Tobias doesn’t even hesitate, taking another step towards the hatterene. “Please.”

“Tobias,” Nia murmurs, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

He jolts, as if he forgot she was even there.

“Are you sure you’ll be…okay? Seeing him?” Nia whispers.

She can’t help thinking about Tobias at that crobat’s home in the desert. Overwhelmed by grief and destroying the gifts left on the outlaw’s grave. She’d never seen him so…lost in himself before. It was scary.

Tobias swallows. He looks away. “I have so many questions. I have to talk to him, Nia.”

Nia squeezes his arm once before letting go. “…Okay.”

Junie snuggles closer to Nia’s neck. Nia appreciates the warm point of contact and leans her head into the touch.

Rosalind smiles. “Excellent. In that case, go to the prison in Kaleido and ask to speak to Jude, on behalf of Rosie.”

“Rosie?” Junie mumbles, just loud enough for Nia to hear.

“When Jude arrives, tell him you need to speak with prisoner D22. And no, he does not get a choice. He either lets you in, or I tell his superiors about Sahara City.”

Nia doesn’t want to know what this Jude did in Sahara City or just how much trouble he’ll be in if Rosalind rats him out. Even the vague threat directed at someone else sends goosebumps down Nia’s arms.

Rosalind is terrifying.

Nia can tell Tobias is unnerved too, his shoulders tense, but he simply nods. “Got it. Anything else?“

“No, that should be it.” Rosalind smiles at them. “You’re free to leave. Good luck.”

Without looking away from the hatterene, Tobias herds Nia and Junie towards the tunnel they’d initially entered through.

“Actually, there is one more thing,” Rosalind calls, stopping them in their tracks.

Nia peeks over her shoulder, past Tobias. Rosalind has moved over to the desk with papers scattered atop it, looking idly through them.

“Remember that I do know you’re human now, Riolu. Rookidee.” Rosalind’s voice is calm, but Nia’s breath catches all the same. “And rumors can be a nasty, nasty thing to deal with nowadays. So step carefully.”

“Hey!” Tobias barks. In the low light of the cave, Nia can see embers glowing through the thin skin of his jaw. “I said we’d keep up our end of the deal.”

Rosalind smiles sweetly, looking up at them from across the room. “Then we shouldn’t have any issues, should we?”

Tobias growls under his breath and nudges Nia down the tunnel. Nia does actually stumble over her own paws this time, in her haste to leave.

They’re all silent as they exit the tunnel into the outer building, then even farther outside into early afternoon air. It feels…wrong, for the day to be bright and sunny, all blue sky and cool, fresh air, after such heavy discussions.

Nia takes a deep breath, leaning against the warm stone wall of the village. Tobias follows. The Pokemon—humans—of the village pass around them, still as carefree as ever. Nia can hear the children they’d passed by earlier shouting and laughing in the distance.

“Anyone else kind of hate Rosalind?” Junie asks.

Nia gives a nervous laughs. “I could do without her jump-scaring us, that’s for sure.”

They both look at Tobias, expecting him to respond as well. Instead, he’s looking out over the trees of the mesa, brow furrowed. Looking south, towards Kaleido Bay.

“…Tobias? You all right?”

Tobias takes a breath, shaking his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Thinking about Kaleido Bay?”

Tobias nods.

“I thought so,” Nia says, quiet. “When are we leaving?”

Tobias looks up at her, surprised.

Nia lifts her brows in return. Does he really think she’s going to let him go on his own? He should know better by now.

Tobias laughs a quiet, humorless laugh. “You know you don’t have to come.“

“You know I am,” Nia murmurs in return, reaching out to take his hand.

Tobias’ mouth twitches with a smile before falling again. “Kaleido should only be a day’s walk south. We could be back in a couple days and see if Will’s found anything by then.”

Nia nods. “So what time?”

“We could leave early tomorrow morning and get there by late afternoon.”

“Okay,” Nia says, closing her eyes as she leans back against the stone wall. Tobias joins her, hand still clasped in her own. Junie is unmoving on Nia’s shoulder.

Quiet falls over them again. Nia imagines they’re both thinking about the same things she is. Finding Xerneas and saving the world from destruction. Will’s promises and Rosalind’s suspicion. Tobias and the outlaw he’s going to talk to all too soon.

Nia wants to believe that everything will turn out okay, but there’s a pit in her stomach all the same.

[wileys-russo]

under the mistletoe II s.blackstenius x reader

merry christmas eve besties under the mistletoe II s.blackstenius x reader

"oh they decorated!" you noticed right away as you wandered into colney for training, amanda by your side having driven you as the two of you often took turns since you lived in the same complex.

"ha! that is going to be fun." amanda nudged you and pointed to the random tufts of fake mistletoe hung up around as you both made your way to the changing rooms, music already pumping away in the distance.

"oh if you wanted a kiss why didn't you say!" you teased, kissing her cheek as she pushed you away with a roll of her eyes, having adopted an older sister role of sorts since you'd both moved to arsenal this season.

of course you were already welcomed in by your fellow national team mates, grateful to know some of the team on your first day as lina and stina both wasted no time showing the two of you around and making sure you settled in.

stina in particular you'd always been quite fond of, the two of you often spending time together on national duty you were hopeful that it might continue to build into something a little more than friends now you both played for arsenal.

you'd liked her for a couple of years now, more of a silly little crush than anything else that you always assumed was one way. well you did, until the world cup.

you were all out as a team celebrating your bronze medals when stina had pulled you away from the group claiming she didn't want to go to the toilet by herself, only within seconds of the two of you having a moment alone her lips were on yours.

the kiss was messy to say the least with both your bloodstreams pumped full of alcohol, though you never got a chance to see where it might have lead as a very drunk frido stumbled around the corner and crashed into the two of you, stina practically running away the moment she did leaving you to look after frido and with a head a mess of thoughts.

you'd waited to see if she'd bring up the kiss, she never did.

afraid she was just too drunk to remember or worse she'd purposefully chosen to forget, you kept it to yourself and remained grateful it didn't change how the blonde acted around you.

especially now at the same club you found yourself spending even more time with her, though rarely one on one it was generally in a group setting she still gravitated to your side, pairing up for drills and sitting beside you most chances she could.

if you didn't know any better you'd swear sometimes she flirted with you, showering you with praise and compliments followed by an awkward little smile or hug before she'd race away and leave you wondering if maybe she did remember the kiss.

then reality would sink in and you'd remind yourself that this was just how stina was, how she'd always be and that just friends seemed to be your destined fate together.

hearing your phone start to ring you nodded for amanda to enter the changing room as you speed walked a little more out of earshot of the music pumping from inside as you clicked accept and moved it to your ear.

"Vännen!" you smiled hearing the familiar accent ring through the phone. "hello frido." you chuckled, dumping your bag by your feet and leaning your back against the wall behind you.

"hello frido. god you sound so english!" the woman gagged making you laugh and curse at her in swedish. "sorry should i have said it in spanish? hola puta!" you teased as she clicked her tongue at you and you could only imagine the way her eyes would be rolling on the other end of the line.

"i'll be having alexia speak with laia if she's going to continue to teach you only bad words in spanish!" the blonde warned jokingly though you really wouldn't put it past her to do so. "how is the knee Gumman?" you smirked as she swore at you with a huff for the nickname meaning old woman.

"still attached to my leg, we are getting there. very slowly!" frido sighed as you frowned sympathetically, having been looked after by the older girl ever since you'd joined the national team years ago you cared for her very deeply so to know she was unable to play at the moment was painful.

"how is your crush on stina?" your sympathy melted away at her teasing tone. "she is so confusing, it kills me!" you groaned, looking around to make sure you were alone as frido prompted you to elaborate.

"when it is just us she is so sweet. always getting things for me like my food or my bag or my boots, pulling me to sit with her on the bus, always complimenting me and hugging me and i think she might like me back. but she is that way with everyone!" you sighed, rubbing your spare hand against your face and noticing a few of the girls start to file out of the change rooms for training.

"but she has not kissed everyone Vännen. tell her how you feel!" frido reminded softly as you sighed. "she does not remember that, or if she does then she has chosen to forget, and i do not wish to make a fool of myself by bringing it up or ruining things. i have to go we have training, i will call you tonight?" you offered, wanting a better chance to catch up with the girl who agreed before you ended the call.

now one of the last to get ready you hurried down the hall and into the change rooms, dropping down by your cubby and hurrying to change into your boots, stripping off your hoodie and tossing it behind you.

"did someone sleep in this morning?" you glanced up to meet bright blue eyes and an amused smile. "no i was speaking with frido." you returned her smile, lacing up your boots and rummaging around for your drink bottle with a frown.

though before you could worry any further it appeared in front of you in stina's tight hold, you taking it from her and standing with a grateful smile. "tack själv!" you sighed and craned your head up to kiss her cheek, walking out of the change rooms and missing the way the blondes whole face lit up bright red and she hurried after you.

"the decorations are nice." you smiled as she caught up with you, the clacking of your boots loud against the polished floors as stina hummed in agreement.

the morning passed by with nothing out of the ordinary, everyone pausing just before lunch to watch laura do her first run on the grass, both you and stina quite close with the austrian defender cheered loudly and proudly.

breaking for lunch everyone returned to the change rooms to swap shoes, the afternoons media session studying the weekends opponents not requiring cleats.

"mistletoe Snygging!" you barely had time to look up before katie had almost tackled you to the bench, faux bunch in her hand and held over your head as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and you pushed her off wiping your cheek.

"who taught you Snygging?" you laughed as she grinned and nodded to lina before racing off to find another victim. "i never understand that." you looked to your right to meet stinas frown. "what?" you questioned, slipping your hoodie back on over your training top.

"mistletoe, the kissing. seems silly!" stina shrugged as you only hummed. "i think its sweet, maybe a little silly but still fun." you smiled softly, looking up as vic and kyra raced past, vic having 'accidentally' dumped her water on the australians head.

"ah! stop that, go change you are all wet and its freezing." you warned the younger girls who ignored you with a shrug, kyra aiming her bottle at vic who ducked at the last minute causing kyra to spray her bottle all over you.

"sorry!" the australian apologized with a wince as steph grabbed her and you sighed waving her away. "here." you felt a tap to your thigh and looked up to see stina offering you her own hoodie which you gratefully accepted after peeling off your own soaked one.

you tried not to dwell on how it felt to be wrapped up in the large bundle of material, drowned in the scent of her shampoo and the woody tones of her perfume which tickled at your nose and allowed your body to settle.

"won't you be cold?" you questioned as she changed out of her long sleeve into her short. "some of us have real scandinavian blood in us, don't feel the cold." she teased as you pinched her and she laughed, offering you a hand up.

you expected her to let go of you once she pulled you to your feet but to your surprise her arm settled over your shoulders pulling you into her side as she walked the two of you toward the cafeteria.

"are you going home for christmas?" the blonde asked curiously as you gave her a strange look. "we booked the same flight back!" you laughed, all four of you travelling home together at the end of the season having booked the tickets only a couple of weeks ago.

"no! i mean to your families house." stina corrected, cheeks tinted slightly pink as she handed you a tray. "oh! no, my sister is hosting everyone this year." the two of you conversed about your plans, laura joining you as you both pulled her into tight hugs of congratulation and stinas arm left your shoulder.

filing into the media room after lunch it wasn't anything new when stina tugged on the back of your her hoodie to signal you sit beside her, your head falling to her shoulder as you chatted to alessia in front of you.

the room quietened as jonas and the coaching staff arrived, everyone settling down and paying attention throughout the entire presentation.

when the lights flicked back on a couple of hours later the room winced and chatter resumed as the coaching staff left and everyone started to stretch out tired limbs and do the same.

wandering back toward the change rooms to grab bags and head off for the day the mood was upbeat, everyone tired but excited to be done for the day, a group invitation of going out for dinner thrown about as some accepted but most declined with the weather outside worsening.

"ah ah ah!" you jolted to a stop as a hand planted on your chest stopping you in your tracks as stina ran into the back of you and apologised, katie blocking the two of you from entering.

"mistletoe!" katie smirked nodding upwards as you rolled your eyes. "didn't see you harassing anyone else for a kiss mccabe!" you chuckled, trying to go around her as she blocked the doorway again.

"not me. the two of you, go on! its bad luck not to have a little smooch." katie grinned wolfishly wiggling her eyebrows, waving off a few of the girls who yelled out from inside for her to leave you both alone.

"katie come on, move." you groaned trying to shoulder her out of the way without succeeding in moving her an inch. "stina! don't want bad luck do ya?" the irishwoman grinned over your head to the taller girl behind you who up until now hadn't said a word.

"i do not care and i do not want to kiss her katie, move." her words were blunt and hurt you much more than you cared to admit, katie not missing the way your face changed to convey so and quickly moving out of your way as you hurried inside.

"hey Älskling-" you heard amanda sit beside you and place a hand on your shoulder with a concerned look as you shook your head and pushed away her hand. "can we go please?" you murmured quietly grabbing your bag, cheeks hot with humiliation as the older girl nodded.

pulling off stina's hoodie you shoved it into her hands without a word or a look in her direction and pushed past her, ignoring her calls after you as you followed amanda out to the car, hearing kim and leah rip into katie for embarrassing the two of you and trying not to pretend you cared.

"vänta en minut!" footsteps pounded after you as amanda turned and spotted stina hurrying after the two of you, squeezing your arm and saying she'd wait for you in the car, leaving before you could even say another word.

with a sigh you stopped, allowing stina to catch up to you and find her breath for a moment, nodding for you to follow her into one of the meeting rooms for a little privacy.

"i'm so sorry, it came out wrong." she rushed out quickly, hands playing with the strap of her gym bag as you shrugged. "its fine stina, no need to be sorry." you forced a smile and turned to leave as she moved to grab your wrist.

"please, hear me out." she pleaded as you gave her an odd look but nodded, gesturing for her to continue as she took a deep breath. "okay. i just-" she paused, clearly struggling with how to continue.

"at the world cup, there was one night after the win when we went out partying. we were very drunk and you looked so happy and beautiful and...free." your cheeks blushed a little at her words not expecting them.

"i saw you dancing with the others and not with me so i took your hand and told you to come to the toilet with me-" your chest tightened at her words, not daring to believe you were really hearing this.

"-but really i just wanted to kiss you, with the alcohol in me i felt like i had all the courage i never had before." your breath stopped entirely at that.

"and so we..." she trailed off rubbing the back of her neck. "-we kissed." you finished for her as she gave you an incredulous look of surprise. "you remember?" you nodded at that and her face seemed to fall.

"this was a mistake." she shook her head and turned to leave as now you took hold of her wrist and pulled her back. "no, please finish." you asked, voice barely above a whisper as she hesitated but eventually nodded.

"-we kissed. then frido interrupted and you looked embarrassed so i left, then we never spoke about it so i assumed you were just too drunk and thats why you kissed me back." she admitted quietly and you couldn't help but let out a peal of laughter.

"what is funny?" "this. you, me, all of it." "i knew this was a mistake."

"no no! i remember the kiss yes, but when you left and never mentioned it i thought you were too drunk to remember or that you'd maybe chosen to forget." you bit your lip as stinas eyes widened.

"i like you but i didn't think you liked me back." stina blurted out, tips of her ears burning bright red as your eyes bugged. "i like you too, i didn't think you liked me back!"

"so we-" "-we both remember." "but we-" "-we both didn't bring it up." "and we-" "-we both like each other."

at that a silence built between you, both searching one anothers faces for any signs of insincerity in your confessions. suddenly stina let out a groan, cheeks red with embarrassment as she buried her face in her hands.

"we are very stupid." "so stupid."

at that you both shared a smile which built into a laugh, the taller girl pulling you into a hug as you melted into her, the air around you starting to crackle with an odd feeling as your laughter died down and you craned your head back to look up at her.

"hey stina." you spoke as she raised an eyebrow. "mistletoe." you pointed above her head with a small smile as her eyes flicked upward and she let out a laugh. "katie said it is bad luck, right?"

at that she ducked her head to press her lips to yours, your mouths slotting against one anothers perfectly as you relaxed into her, balling her top in your fists as your head spun like a top.

this kiss was very different to the last. her lips were soft and welcoming, and she kissed you so tenderly as if you might break if she wasn't careful, one hand cupping your cheek to deepen it slightly, testing the waters as her tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you parted them slightly to allow her tongue to slip into your mouth.

pulling away after a few beats of silence passed the two of you blushed and refused to look at one another, though still pressed together there was very little other options.

"oh you are joking!" you leapt away from one another and looked to the door where amanda was throwing her head back with a groan, the two of you sending her strange looks as she clicked her tongue.

"you both could not have waited till next season? i owe frido money now!"

[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ɪ. ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ

Now that you've sort of finally accepted your new circumstances, you take the opportunity of being a baby to stare because you know no one's gonna call you a creep for it (this time).

Penelope is 'Mother', you eventually decide.

You take a lot after her, you realize whenever she decides to hold you up to a mirror one day to show you the newest onesie (cow-themed, this time) she's bought for you. You share her skin tone and eye color, and you're fairly sure you see tufts of [H/c] hair growing in.

Those similarities, however, are the only ones you share with her, for she still looks different from you in plenty of other ways.

Penelope Ophelia is tall—almost reaching up to six feet, you're pretty sure—and thin, her body shape a perfect hour glass. Her hair is straight, but cascades into curls where it ends just beneath her butt, and her eyes are fox-like and almost luminescent when the moon or sun hits them just right. Honestly, had it not been for the fact that she was your Mother, you would have been terrified of her as a stranger.

But it is because of the fact that she is your Mother, though, that you know her appearance is exactly just that: an appearance, and nothing more. Despite the sharpness of her eyes and how cool her skin feels against your own, there is a softness to Penelope that pulls you in and makes you unafraid to curl your small hands into the fabric of her clothes and nuzzle your face into the spot that sits between her neck and her shoulder. She coos everytime you do and always makes sure to nuzzle you back, and it fills your insides with warmth.

She likes to bake in her free time, and is pretty damn good at it if the mouth watering smell of bread or whatever other pastry Penelope decides to bless the Ophelia household with is anything to go by. You unfortunately can't really eat a lot of her pastries due to being a baby that's yet to grow their teeth in, but you've learned long ago that patience is, in fact, a virtue, and you will happily reap your reward once the time finally comes.

(For now, though, you can only suffer in silence as you watch Willow scarf down the best looking cheesecake you've ever seen while Penelope airplanes baby food into your mouth.)

The woman you get your horns and slowly growing goat ears and tail from is Willow Ophelia, now also dubbed 'Mum'.

She's about a head shorter than Mother, but for what she lacks in height, she makes up for in muscle. Due to her apparent appreciation for crop tops, you've already seen just how toned her stomach is, and her arms—while not too big—clearly have a lot of power, though you're sure that's what tending to a farm filled with crops and animals does to you.

Mum's skin is dark and littered with lighter patches (vitiligo, you think?), and her eyes are round and colored forest green. What mainly draws you into her, however, has to be the fluffy cloud of platinum blonde hair that sits atop her head, with goat ears colored the same coming out from the sides and thick, birch-like horns protruding from the top and curling backwards in a way that kind of reminded you of that one old goat from Hoodwinked.

When you see Mother and Mum together, it is then that you finally start to believe the old saying, "Opposites attract."

While Penelope looks and feels cold on the outside despite the pure warmth she freely gives to those she loves and cares for, Willow's appearance is all it takes to hide the fact that—even with the chill, almost goofy demeanor she likes to wear around other people—she is a force to be reckoned with the moment you earn her ire.

Firm, stubborn, and determined, Willow loves fiercely and therefore protects her family with the rage of a soldier. You know that she genuinely does actually like working on the farm, but you also know it serves as something to keep her in shape and ready for a fight, too.

Like with Penelope, however, you can't find yourself feeling any sort of fear for her, and perhaps that is because, as her child—the culmination of hers and Penelope's love—you have only ever known Willow's strength in the form of her strong arms holding you like they're meant to shield you from the dangers of the world and willing to do anything to keep you from harm, no matter the cost. Willow's rage is only for those who deserve it, and already, somehow, you know that—in her eyes, at least—you never will.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

In the night, Mother reads fairy tales to you from an old book she tells you was gifted to her from her grandfather before his passing.

With a rocking chair next to your crib and you safely secured in her lap, positioned so that you could lay against her stomach, Penelope makes sure to hold the book on her lap in a way that allows you to see the pictures that color the pages not littered with words. Her voice is regal, but also possesses an almost rumbly quality to it that makes her chest vibrate enough to where you can feel it, and that alone is nearly enough to send your eye lids fluttering shut.

Mother likes happy endings. She tells you herself after she finishes reading Cinderella to you, one night (a night that you're very proud of because you didn't immediately fall asleep like you usually do when she reads to you), and tucks you into bed.

"The world is nothing like the ones I read to you, little love," she says, the soft smile that had been gracing her delicate features at the time growing at the sight of your small yawn. "I still like to believe that there is a happy ending for everyone, though, and I hope that someday, you will find yours."

She had ended the brief moment off with a kiss to your forehead, and then left you to dream of the daring princes, kind princesses, and fearsome beasts from the stories she had weaved into your mind with her romantic tales.

Mum's stories come in the day. They aren't as frequent as Mother's, but that only makes them all the more special.

When it's time for those moments, no matter how long or short they may turn out to be, Mum likes to take you away from the house and sit near the lake, where you can watch all the little frogs and dragon flies go about their business amongst the lily pads beneath the blue, cloudy sky.

It is in those moments, then, where it is only the two of you, Mum speaks of no fairy tales or happy endings. Instead, she tells you of divine beings greater than you could ever know; beings who envy the very mortals they look down upon because they can feel things they will never be able to fully replicate, and monsters born from people forced into a world and punished for mistakes not even their own. She whispers about the wilds; about how different this world used to be before humanity's advancements. She doesn't blame all of them for their ambition, for wanting to create an easier world for the generations to come, but you don't miss the sad, almost mournful look that flickers through her shiny eyes, looking as if she'd been pulled back into memories from long before.

And when that happens, all you can do is lean back into her and hope that your presence is enough to bring her home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

This was it. You were finally gonna do it.

You were going to walk today, and no one could stop you.

(A fact that you were very right about, as the only two people who could stop you wouldn't even want to, as any parent's child's first steps is a sacred memory.)

Furrowing your brows in concentration, you shakily lift a hand and place it against the counter next to you for support as you slowly push yourself up onto your feet, a determined frown painting your lips.

Okay. You inhale deeply and try to straighten your back out. Okay, I'm standing up. It's going well so far. Now ...

Narrowing your [E/c] eyes, you begin to look around the room, pondering: Where should I walk to?

As if on cue, Mother steps into the room, and she gasps—loudly.

"Willow!" She turns to yell up the stairs. "Willow get the camera and come quick!"

You hear something clatter from above, but you pay it no mind and instead focus on the the long, white sundress your Mother had decided to wear today.

Bingo.

Taking another deep breath to hype yourself up, you slowly, but surely, take a small step. The action, of course, has your Mother returning her gaze to you faster than anyone can blink, and she gasps again.

"WILLOW! HURRY, LOVE!!"

"I'M HURRYING, I'M HURRYING!!"

Stumbling down the stairs, Mum slides over to Mother's side and nearly drops the camera she's holding in the process—both from the fact that her entrance had almost led to her landing flat on her face, and the shock of seeing you trying to walk.

Choosing to focus on your goal instead of the two women standing in front of you, their eyes filling with tears, you keep your eyes glued to your feet as you carefully take another step, and another one, and another one ...

"Look at you go, kid!" Willow whoops from behind the camera as she takes pictures.

Standing next to her wife, Penelope beams at you and claps her hand, practically glowing the pride. "That's it, little love! Keep going!" she cheers.

Soon enough, the counter is no longer there to support you, and you look up just in time to give your moms a gummy smile as your little legs take you stumbling forward into Mother's legs. The women cheer, and Willow takes one last picture of you hugging Penelope's legs like a koala before setting the camera aside and picking you up, grinning widely.

"That was amazing, kiddo!" She holds you between Mother and herself so they can both smother you with kisses. "Does this mean you're gonna be talking soon, too?"

You giggle, the sound high pitched and bright, and it makes your moms snuggle you even more.

The Ophelia household is warm for the rest of the day, and you can't help but hope it'll stay that way for the rest of your second life.

<- Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ->

Tag List: @randomgurl2326

[brownyanyk]

OC Introduction: Brown

Name: Daniel, self-nicknamed Brown

Species: Fox

Debut: A few months before the original series starts, same day Peso joins (I hc Peso to be still be a pretty recent join when the series starts even outside of this au)

Role: No specific role when he first joins, later documents social behaviors of whatever animals they meet to the best of his ability. Generally is very adaptable to any role or task that might be needed at any moment, and frequently goes with Shellington on his field research.

Home: The Octopod, sleeping in a converted storage room that was previously not used much

Physical Appearance: From head to toe, he's covered in dark brown fur. He has large ears, and a very big tail. He has long tufts of fur on top of his head and his cheeks, and a darker brown fluffy neck that his octo-helmet collar goes over. He wears blue boots and usually wears a blue satchel similar to Shellington's when on missions

More detail design guide/me yapping about how he was made here, and clothing concept here

Personality: Quite timid and shy, though will often open up to others easily when shown some friendliness. Gets easily distracted.

Likes: Living on the Octopod, taking it easy whenever possible, kelp cakes, the underwater view, talking with any of the crew, meeting many animals/sea creatures.

Favorite Sea Creature: Manta ray

Dislikes: Being woken up at night from the Octo Alert, loud noises in general.

Fears: Being alone/abandoned, being a burden on others, any potential damage on any of the Octopod's windows.

Trivia:

He has an ask blog! @brown-the-octonaut

Brown's favorite color is Brown (Shocker, I know.)

He was originally supposed to receive a pod room on the Octopod, with Peso sleeping in the medbay instead. But for a few reasons, Brown declined, therefore Peso was placed in a pod room.

His favorite kelp cake flavors are Classic, Chocolate, and Pancake.

Secretly writes down when he catches any of his fellow Octonauts exhibiting behavior typical to their species.

Sometimes completely forgets to write notes on and/or barely recognizes certain behaviors from the creatures he meets

He's the second shortest member of the Octonauts, first being Peso. (at least of the Octonauts that stand on two legs)

Really good sense of hearing! Bit sensitive tho

Doesn't drive any of the GUPs often, and thus isn't that good of a driver, as he prefers to be a passenger.

Relationships (some might be a bit ooc sry)

Peso: Having both joined the same day, the two naturally became close. Peso often lets him come into his room anytime since he feels bad for taking the pod room, and they've even had a few sleepovers in said room.

Shellington: Brown really likes Shellington. He often hangs with him as much as possible, and likes listening to him ramble about various sea creatures. Sometimes even goes with Shellington when he does field research.

Barnacles: Brown has great respect for the captain, but never seems to refer to him by "Captain". He's not one to be professional, and just calls him "Barnacles" instead. He doesn't mind.

Kwazii: Brown enjoys his company a lot. He likes hearing about Kwazii's stories, even knowing they're probably over exaggerated, and sometimes plays along, asking questions.

Dashi: Brown enjoys looking through Dashi's photo albums, and borrows her camera occasionally to take a few pictures of his own.

Tweak: Brown's always curious about anything she builds, and will usually ask about it if he spots her building something.

Inkling: They don't interact much, but Brown frequently visits the library to look at books. (Even if he doesn't read through much of them)

Vegimals: Being friends with Shellington, Brown frequently interacts with the Vegimals. He loves their company, and couldn't imagine life on the Octopod without them. He's tried to gain a understanding of Vegimalese, but he still has a lot to learn.

(Will probably add more throughout each category as I come up with things, and change some stuff too. Might also add a brief story as well)

Feel free to ask any questions about him! (Whether it be in comments or asks)

[0lympus-mons]

wip wednesday (thursday (but actually friday))

tagged by @sayheykid the lovely writer of delightful baseball oc's who recently got into boat racing which is even more exciting. I am on the struggle bus with exams and a bunch of new WIPs and a secret third special project that I want to get traditionally published that I will be writing over the summer when school stops beating me to death. For now, as a condolence for the fact that PLCW is going on a brief hiatus (maybe 1-2 weeks and hopefully no more) here are some snippets (and mild-ish spoilers below the cut) (also if you want to vote on what I write next that poll is still open for a few days I think) Tagging @aristocrating @talentpiper11 and anyone else up here because I don't want you guys to have to hide that below the cut. As always, no pressure. Happy Easter!!

Untitled WIP, Chapter One: Nausicaa

Reno, Nevada: June 2012 The divorce papers are waiting in a yellow manila envelope on the kitchen table, the day after the Reno Gunslingers win Game 2 of the Calder Cup Finals.  AHL players on the first year of their entry-level contracts don’t make enough to not live with other people, so James Vickers isn’t the first person to get his hands on the end of his marriage. His roommate’s girlfriend is the one who sets it on the dining table face down. She knows what’s going to happen before it happens; she’s read the sender’s postmark, and she is the one who wrestles her boyfriend into their bedroom under the guise of “celebration” when the two hockey players barge through the door an hour after midnight, still laughing.  Jamie doesn’t read the postmark when the door shuts between him and leaves them alone in the kitchen. He swallows half an energy drink and calls Paige, who doesn’t pick up. His beautiful, brilliant wife, with her glowing blonde hair and sweet face and God, he misses her like a hole punched through his chest. Paige, who knows she’s too good for him and still lets him put a ring on the same finger he has been wrapped around for years anyway. With the benefit of hindsight, maybe that should have been his first sign of trouble.

Oh Jamie Vickers, you and me, we're really in it now. This will be my first time writing an american protagonist. i don't think i know how to do that. we'll find out together

Four Nations Face Off: Round Robin, CAN v. USA

This is Kent’s worst nightmare.  “This is my worst nightmare.” Across the ice, Augustin and Jack are staring at him, decked out in blood red with their heads leaned together as they whisper to each other. Kent wants to kill them both, but it’s probably too late. As far as he knows, he’s about to be murdered.  “I don’t like the way that they’re looking at us,” agrees one of his alternates, Ethan Barker. “I feel like they can see when and how I’ll die. Like, one can see when, and the other can see how-”  “I get it,” Kent snaps. “They kinda look related,” Pierce McMurray, his other A, muses. Kent needs to throw up right now, because he’s right. Augustin is like a skinnier, more elegant model of Jack’s broader, superhero looks. Still, they stand at about the same height in skates, and ever since Augustin finally started carrying weight through the season and cutting his hair short enough that it can't be tied into a tuft at the base of his neck—which Kent considers a crime against humanity, by the way—they look similar from the back, too. It’s worse when they’re wearing helmets. Kent’s going to have a heart attack. “I’m having unholy thoughts,” he says out loud, mostly by accident. Across the ice, Augustin is smiling, a flicker of white teeth against pale skin and red mouth, like he knows exactly what the two of them look like together. He puts his hand low on Jack’s back as their heads lean closer together, and Kent feels his teeth grind together. “Like murder?” Pierce asks. “Yeah,” Kent replies faintly when Jack leans down to whisper something in Augustin’s ear that makes the grin more evil than it already is. “Like murder.”

Yeah. like murder.

Pain's Like Cold Water, Chapter 21: Tout Est Juste (mild spoilers)

“I have a question,” Lily says gravely, her hands braced on her hips, “For you.” “Okay,” Chris wipes the blade of his skate clean of wet, grey ice, watching it splatter across the rubberized floor the same way that it does every time, “Shoot.” “Our coach said that practice is cancelled next week before the big tournament,” Lily rolls her eyes so hard that it moves her head, “He said he had “work stuff,” but he said that if we can find another coach, we can have practice.” “Okay,” Chris agrees, “That sucks. I don’t know any coaches other than Nils, but I can ask if he knows anyone-” “The old guy?” Lily asks, wrinkling her nose, “I don’t want the old guy. I want Jordan Dunleavy to coach us.” “Oh,” Chris says, blinking at her. She just stares back at him, eyes wide behind her cage and her pink helmet matching her tape as she props her chin on the end of her stick, until he says, “I mean…I think he’s probably busy.” He goes back to untying his skates, but her pink laces don’t go anywhere. Her stick taps the floor impatiently until he looks up at her again. She’s scowling when she asks, “With what?” “Um,” Chris says, nonplussed, “His own work stuff. Hockey stuff. And, like…other adult things. Like taxes, it’s tax season. Go ask your dad what a T4 is.” “Can you just ask him?” Chris purses his lips, “Ask Jordie what a T4 is? I don’t actually think he knows.”

Jordie my-mom-has-a-phd-in-economics-from-oxford Dunleavy does not do his own taxes. he does not know what a T4 is.

[rippersz]

𝙲𝚊𝚝!𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜:

─────﹒✿﹒─────

These are my opinions! If you don’t agree, then add your own headcanons! The idea is taken from the mind of @masscared-star and their thoughts on feline Larissa Weems.

─────﹒✿﹒─────

Kitty Cat Larissa Weems is a white Turkish Angora feline. One of the fluffy ones with the thicker neck fur and ear tufts. Her tail widens toward the end and is very soft of course. Every part of her is soft.

Her teeth are very sharp. They’re still in human alignment, but the incisors and canines are obviously more cat-like. The premolars and molars, toward the back of her jaw, have more sharp edges. So she doesn’t hurt herself, her tongue rests in her mouth differently and has a very weird texture. It’s in between human, soft, and the feline, rougher and tougher.

Her pupils CAN turn into slits. Her ears CAN twitch and swivel and flatten. Her tail CAN swish swish swish. She also has a habit of stalking without realizing - walking with swinging hips and one foot in front of the other like that of a model.

She has PERFECT balance. Despite her height and stature, she will not fall. And if she does, she shall be graceful about it.

Heightened senses of course. She has an excellent sense of smell. Her eyes, however, function like a human’s. She can see all colors and has an innate sense of where things are so there’s no ‘bumping into things’ unless she’s somehow dizzy. BUT she CAN see in the dark. Built-in night vision. No hiding from her at night.

Ear scritches. Yes, ma’am. Scratch her behind the ears, be careful of her hair, and she will push into your hand without even thinking. It’s very comforting for her and sends lovely little shivers down her spine. Same with the base of her tail. She won’t respond in the same… interesting manner as a cat’s, but she will let her tail curl around your wrist or your waist. She has a lot of control over it.

PURRING. PURRRRINGGG SOMETHING IS PURRINNNGGG AND IT’S LARISSA WEEMS LMAO. She will purr whenever she is content. Head on your lap while reading. Eating a lovely little meal with you in deep candlelight. She keeps it low and soft when she’s in public, happy and proud of her staff and students, but otherwise lets herself purr as loudly as she wants when with you. - Larissa also has the ability to let out little ‘mrrow!’ chirping kitty sounds when she’s excited. If you show up with lunch for her one day and she’s not expecting you, she’ll perk up and the sound will leave her chest without any restraint. She will be embarrassed about it. You will laugh and she will be embarrassed and then when you give her a little kiss, she will purposefully nick your lip and you will go ow!! and she will go 'Gotcha.'

Showering…. hissss….. She loves showers so much, she does, because they are warm and she likes warmth, but they are also annoying. The pitter patter on her ears can irritate her, so she indulges in baths more. It gives her control over the touches on her ears and she actually enjoys grooming the parts of her that are feline. Although, if you headcanon that she has a proper cat form, she will not like water as much.

Her nails are sharp. She can’t help it. They’re painted red, yes, and they can be sheathed and unsheathed (like Enid’s, yes), but she tries to be gentle with them. When she’s angry or frightened, they shoot out - so just be careful.

Her precious soft ears are pierced, near the base by her head on the outsides, but those areas are sensitive. Not sensitive like ooooo but sensitive like ow please don’t squeeze there. She mainly wears pearls in those spots, because she likes the sparkle, but little golden hoops make the occasional appearance as well. - She does not like bows or things being placed around her ears though. Chances are she will not like extra accessories there. And she DOES NOT APPRECIATE YOU TRYING TO TURN THEM INSIDE OUT BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUNNY. You did it once and you have the nicks on your hands to show it. Worth the laugh though.

She hisses beneath her breath when irritated. A popping sort of hiss that rumbles from her throat and is often heard in the quiet of her office.

She’s quick. Crazy quick. It seems impossible but it isn’t.

LOUNGING. BASKING IN THE SUN. LOUNGING AND BASKING. MMMM SUNLIGHT. She will lay across her chaise and she will soak in the rays through the windows and she will turn around in her desk chair and just sit there until she nearly falls asleep. No, it’s not very productive, but if she doesn’t get her daily sunlight, she will be a little bit down. If you find her taking a midday rest on the weekend, full body facing the sun that filters through onto the bed, no you don’t. Don’t disturb her. Leave her be, purring away happily.

─────﹒✿﹒─────

:3 - Rip x

[perfctvelvet]

pls do ayo edebiri!!! we all know she is the people’s princess but when she’s alone with the reader she has the filthiest mouth

pairing: Ayo Edebiri/Reader

content: 2nd pov, estasblished relationshiop, fluff, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, clit kissing.

A/N: Wasn't sure if I wanted to do something super dirty or sweet, but I settled on sweet with the added dirty talk. I hope it's enough and that you enjoy!

Your hands reach over and grab at the tufts of grass that surround you. It's almost ripped from the Earth because of your rough grasp on it. The sun was beaming on you like a spotlight and birds flew above you.

Five minutes ago you were enjoying the view and feeling the breeze. You looked over to your lover to see her finishing up her sandwich. You then dig your hand in the basket, searching for the last container of food you had packed. The bakery you frequented had a new specialty cupcake for the week, a vanilla cake with lavender frosting. You knew Ayo would want her same old vanilla with sprinkles, but you bought a lavender one for her too just in case. Too bad when you felt around in the basket you didn't feel anything else.

Ayo noticed the frown on your face as your searching became frantic.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"I bought cupcakes...I bought cupcakes for us, but I guess I must've left them at the apartment."

You felt a little sadness, especially after Ayo went out of her way to clear her schedule to have this day with you. They were just four little cupcakes, but you wanted everything to be perfect. You just stared into the empty basket until Ayo grabbed you by the chin and made you look up at her.

"I don't need some cupcakes to have dessert."

That's how you ended up flat on your back with Ayo between your legs. Her tongue ran along your thigh like she was licking the icing off of a cupcake. She inhales deeply to take in the scent of your favorite perfume mixed with the lotion you lathered on your thighs this morning. You smell sweeter than any treat or bakery.

"Oh, princess," she mutters against your skin before pressing a kiss into you. Her strong fingers dig into the plush off your thighs.

You can't breathe seeing her between your legs. She has your dress hiked up which allows you to see every move. The fact that you left the cupcakes at home has become long forgotten about. You were just so lucky to have such an understanding girlfriend, but deep down you have a feeling Ayo would've found her way under your dress regardless of the mishap. Her breath is hot against your thigh which causes you to tremble. The woman is not even doing anything to you yet, but you feel like a hot mess already.

Ayo presses a finger up against your clothed clit. She watches you tense with a smile on your face. You react to even the smallest touches sometimes, and often she likes to tease you about.

"You like that?"

You nod, which is just not good enough for a greedy man like Ayo.

"I know you know how to speak, princess. Let me hear that sweet voice."

Just as you were about to open your mouth, Ayo applied more pressure. You let out a sharp gasp, but you know you still have to answer her question.

"It feels good baby," you sound more desperate than you would like her to know, but Ayo can figure you out within seconds.

"Yeah? You like when I touch you? Is that all you want me to do? Touch you?"

"N-No."

"Well what else do you want?"

She was going to make you say it. This was like foreplay for her; making you speak your desires was like music to ears. Every time you felt so shy and bashful as she coaxed the truth out of you. It made your cheeks feel so hot.

"I want you to taste me," you whine. There was no else in this big, lush field, but the idea of someone hearing you both scared and excited you.

"My pretty girl wants my mouth on her pussy more than she wants those cupcakes," she chuckles. "Let me get these panties off of you."

She helps you lift your ass and your lacy panties come sliding down your legs. Ayo shoves them in her back pocket to be forgotten about until she gets home. Right now she’s mesmerized by your dripping core in front of her face. No matter how many times you spread your legs for her, seeing you wet and desperate for her always feels like the first time. If she was being honest, it took her a while to find her footing sexually with you (as it did you). But, once you two found the perfect middle you were supposed to be at, sparks began to fly. There was such a sweetness with how she handled your body that contrasted with the filth that would spill from her mouth whenever she was fucking you. Right now she was holding back a little so as to not "taint" such a beautiful atmosphere, but seeing your pussy makes it hard for her to contain herself.

"Were you this wet the entire drive up here? Or did it only take making you lay down and touching your thighs to get you to drip like this for me?"

"You always make me like this," you try to speak back, to match her in how she sweet talks you, but you're no match for Ayo.

"Of course you're going to blame me when you're the one who is willing to spread her legs outside for me," she teases. She traces the outline of your pussy but never touches you. It's torture that you should be equipped to deal with, but it's just makes you want to whine.

"Ayo," you drag out the syllables of her name.

You're just waiting for her to give in and start feasting on her dessert, but she seems to have other plans for you.

"Turn around. On your knees for me, princess."

She gives you the command and you obey. When you assume the position you feel so exposed. You press your face into the blanket separating you and the Earth. Your pussy is exposed to Ayo who can do whatever she wants with you. Not being able to set her was throwing you for a loop, but Ayo enjoyed having the element of surprise over you. And as much as she wanted to press her face into your sex, it was her fingers that gave you pleasure. She pushes two digits into your pussy and she groans at the feeling. Those warm, wet walls are practically sucking her fingers in.

"Oh, she's greedy today," she refers to your pussy, making you turn your head to the side and whine. "She won't let go of my fingers. I think she's missed me."

It's been almost two weeks since you and Ayo have fucked. Work got in-between the two of you and you hadn't seen her for days. Today is the first time in a long time that you two got to spend time together for a long period of time, which is why you wanted everything to be perfect and special. You guess that this is a better replacement for those cupcakes you left on the table.

Ayo curls her fingers and moves her fingers like she's motioning for your orgasm to come to her. She wants to feel you cream as she watches it drip out of you and around her fingers. Your pussy squelched over the sound of the wind blowing around you. The breeze pushed her hair out of her face and the sun shone on her so you could see her for the heavenly woman she is.

"Ayo," you whine, drawing out each letter of her name.

"It's not enough, is it honey? Just two fingers inside of you. You want more than that."

You expected her to add a third finger to really stretch you out. Instead she leaned down and kissed your sensitive clit. You felt your entire body shake in what you thought was your orgasm. Ayo was fingering you faster and harder now as she kissed your sweet pearl over and over again. Her lips had you feeling dizzy, but her wet tongue pressing to your clit had you howling. Two weeks have passed but those two weeks have felt like a lifetime. You fully pull out the grass you were gripping when your actual orgasm hits you.

Ayo keeps moving her tongue and fingers until your thighs are shaking besides her head. Your moans have weakened to whimpers. Just as you were about to push her head away from feeling overwhelmed, she withdrew her fingers. Suddenly you feel so empty and you continue to whimper but for other reasons. While you whine, Ayo admires the sight between your legs. It was better than she imagined. Despite having seen it hundreds of times before, the sight of you dripping cum never got old. She dipped her fingers at your entrance and you almost hoped she was going to slide into you again, but instead she got her fingers wet with your cum and brought them up to her mouth. You watched her put them in her mouth and hum. Sweeter than any cupcake she's ever had.

[lemurballing]

okay so i really wanted to do this in Prim and Proper Essay Form with demonstration drawings and stuff but if i wait for that its never going out so screw it.

tangle design evolution/changes post with whatever tangle pics i can grab and edit on my phone

i am aware many of these changes can be attributed to art style; i’m not questioning that these are all tangle, but i find joy in dissecting the little things and how many parts of tangle’s design are drawn with so much variance

What’s the difference anyway? That’s just five normal pictures of Tangle in that above edit, right?

That’s rhetorical - they are, and they’re subtly (or not-so-subtly) different in interesting ways. So I’m going to note the five features I find vary the most, and are most critical to Tangle’s design (in order of significance):

Eye shape - Hair style - Face mask & muzzle - Ear shape - Tail

I would also maintain the stance that while every character differs somewhat between art styles, Tangle varies most often across IDW, and with larger changes between one depiction and another. Additionally, I didn’t notice many (if any) other examples of characters whose base eye shape changes between depictions like Tangle’s does!

(this got long, see under the cut)

So… what’s with Tangle’s eyes? Contrast these 3 images:

Tangle’s model sheet, on which her eyes have only one corner (the inner corner) and the outside of the eye is an oval/rounded shape - a panel from issue 71, in which Tangle’s eye has 2 prominent corners (inner corner and upper outer corner; plus the harsher join between her lower outer corner and muzzle) - and a panel from issue 37, in which we have the inner corner and rounded eyes again, but the lower outer corner joins the muzzle also.

Each of these are enough to change the expressions you can make with that same eye shape - the eye type depicted in the #37 panel is most versatile for squinting/wide eyes/smushing around the eyebrows for expressions, while the other two are distinctly more ‘pretty’ eye shapes, similar to the eye shapes used for characters like Blaze or Rouge. They also give you a pretty strong impression of Tangle’s demeanor and character; the ‘pretty’ eye shapes can make her look more focused, while the rounded ‘corner-anchored’ eye type makes her look more open and friendly.

(I personally appreciate Tangle’s design as a juxtaposition between ‘pretty face’ and ‘gremlin energy’ - and intentionally drawing her eyes off-model for funny expressions such as the ones below, even if her eye shape is by default the ‘pretty’ one, is a tactic I’m a fan of.)

Next on the discussion block: hair style!

There are two main categories I find art of Tangle to fall into: ‘mohawk’ and ‘poff’.

Three examples (one of which is my own art) of the ‘mohawk’ category:

You can see the general hairstyle starts between her ears or behind them and flows forwards in more or less individual tufts; this is based on her model sheet, which I’ve embedded enough in this post already.

Examples of the ‘poff’ hairstyle:

Her hair is either all rooted ahead of the ears, or has a distinctly larger mass of hair in front of them that overshadows the smaller tufts behind it.

Sometimes she’s drawn in a way that toes the line between either hairstyle, which builds more uncertainty as to which hairstyle she’s supposed to have. I’m not even sure if this ‘poff’ hairstyle is a change one artist did for their own style that others jumped on, or a misunderstanding that got carried on and kept up?

While not quite as expressive or important to characterization, the hairstyle does somewhat indicate Tangle’s personality; the ‘mohawk’ does a similar thing as the ‘pretty eyes’, adding sharp angles and a ‘focused’ impression, while the poff is fluffier and friendlier.

And now we’re onto: face mask and muzzle! I’ve grouped them together since they’re in a similar spot on her face, but each one can change independently of the other.

In most of her official depictions, Tangle has a very short and almost flat muzzle shape:

Whereas other depictions (and a good few of my own) lengthen her muzzle and give it a point:

I’ll touch on this a little more in the segment for ears, but as far as real animal accuracy, the longer and pointier muzzle reflects ringtailed lemurs better. They actually have a prominent snout more similar to a canine, rather than flat faces like other primates people commonly know about; chimpanzees, gorillas, the monkey from night at the museum, etc.

While accuracy to real life animals is already vague at best in the Sonic series, Tangle’s muzzle being depicted as extra short implies to me a misunderstanding between ringtailed lemurs as ‘sort of a monkey, right?’ versus what they actually look like. A flatter muzzle can make humanlike expressions easier, and similarly to the ‘poff’ hairstyle makes her more friendly and harmless-looking - but it does lose something compared to the more lemurlike pointed muzzle. And plenty of neat expressions are possible with a more pointed muzzle, so it’s not like it sacrifices Tangle’s expressiveness to use it, even ignoring going off-model for an expression.

The other detail to note is her facial marking; while it is always a 'bump' shape between her eyes, the height of the marking can differ, sometimes higher than halfway up between her eyes, and occasionally only a third of the way up. I do want to point out a neat thing about some panels her facial marking is drawn in, and how it lines up with her muzzle shape - when I sketch Tangle, I often place her facial features by drawing this kinda triangular shape first, and then her nose and other features.

Next is ear shape! There’s only two distinct shapes used in canon art, but I’ll also showcase a third style I draw:

First is the rounded ear type, a panel from issue 47 - a pointed ear type from issue 71 - and a fuzzy ear type (pointed backwards) in my fanart. While the lack of fuzz in official art I understand (since no other characters such as Tails or Blaze have fuzzy ears either), I don’t understand the roundness! Every picture I’ve seen of ringtailed lemur ears look pretty pointy, so I vastly prefer the issue 71 take on her ears - they’re also easier to point around for expressions. The rounder ears simply play into the (imo) excessively rounded shapes used for Tangle across some issues.

Last topic - Tangle's tail! While this is the most consistent feature, certain artists' styles will depict it at different thicknesses, which I find an interesting change, as it does create a different impression of what Tangle's tail is capable of.

The thicker tail shapes place emphasis on the strength of Tangle's tail, as well as being more striking on the page since it takes up more room, like writing with sharpie vs ballpoint pen. The thinner tail shapes imply some normality - that the only weird thing about Tangle's tail is its ability to stretch and extend. (I do consider these separate aspects of Tangle's powers - I could even do a whole second essay on Tangle's tail's abilities, after the first one!)

Additionally, the thicker tail is more plausible for special poses, such as Tangle propping herself up with just her tail, compared to an average-length tail that would have to coil an extra 2x or 3x to get the same height, which just seems inconvenient…

If you read this whole thing, thank you! :D

I definitely haven’t exhausted my reserve of items to talk about, about character design and Tangle both, so feel free to add on if you have something new or a question <3

[tinyowlthoughts]

EC Theobromine Notes

Been thinking a lot about this crew of dorks the past month and working on a 'first' story, where Max met the crew in the usual unconventional-but-conventionally-human-way. Since Chocolate and Bluffing are still getting notes (Who are you people?!?!?! (and I'm glad you're enjoying it :3c)) I figured I'd share my own notes about the crew:

Max Species: Human Age: Early 30s Pronouns: They/Them Position: Navigator Appearance: Androgynous human of short stature Fun Facts: They were not officially assigned to the Theobromine (story coming soon!)

Taurvin Species: Scrofa Age: 350 Pronouns: He/Him Position: Captain Appearance: Towering (10 foot tall) bipedal boar made of lava and molten rock Fun Fact: When calm, Taurvin's skin appears to be obsidian plates formed together. When angry, the lava that is his blood begins to glow, making him look like a volcano on the edge of bursting, and smoke will emerge from his nostrils. He has been known to smoke out a whole pub when losing trivia night. His right arm is a prosthetic, that closely mimics his own skin, so not many notice it, even among his crew.

Gorvan Species: Stakad Age: 201 (Just achieved legal drinking age for his species) Pronouns: He/Him Position: First Mate Appearance: Fluffy bipedal with four arms, two horns, a long prehensile tufted tail, and a perpetual expression of confusion Fun Fact: Is the second-most compassionate on board (after Elaana) and makes a point of ensuring all the crew members are comfortable and have what they need.

Elaana Species: Lepida Age: 20 Pronouns: She/her Position: Medical Appearance: Bipedal insectoid with moth wings, antenna, and large, compound eyes Fun Fact: Lepida cry pollen, which sets off allergies among other crew members at times; thus, she rarely cries outside of her quarters, wanting to spare her friends the distress (and runny facial orifices). Low-key crushing on Lenzoill.

Epitak Species: Corvi (distant relative of Zads, from the same planet) Age: 1248 Pronouns: Ze/Zim Position: Engineer Appearance: Bipedal crow with a crest of feathers on zeir head that give away zeir emotions; wings sprout along zeir arms Fun Fact: Has several hidden stashes of shiny objects aboard the ship, ranging from tinfoil left over from cooking to jewels he, er, 'liberated' from unappreciative shop keepers.

Dhaca Species: Snallygaster Age: 42 (He has not read the Hitchhikers Guide, and does not understand Max when they quote it at him) Pronouns: He/They Position: Biologist & Chemist Appearance: Three-foot tall reptilian with a single, large eye, multiple tongues, leather wings with claws, two arms, and no legs Fun Fact: He cannot fly with his wings, though they can give him a boost when jumping, and the claws on the end work as an extra pair of hands when he is experimenting. He has blown himself up more than once, luckily his scaly skin serves as pretty good blast protection. He has an entire crate of back-up glasses that regularly has to be restocked.

Lenzoill Species: Bubalus Age: 22 Pronouns: She/Her Position: Head of Security Appearance: Bipedal water buffalo with horns and a long, whip-like tail Fun Fact: Is a complete badass with training in multiple melee combat styles, ranged weapons, and melee weapons. Her favorite is an energy sword (that max compares to a lightsaber, though its more comparable to a broadsword made of energy), but in a pinch her sharpened horns can be used when charging. Is less competent with emotions, not due to any meathead trope but because her race is not as socially advanced as others and still holds prejudice views against non-traditional relationships. Being gay, she keeps her emotions to herself in order to protect her families reputation. (She'll figure it out eventually, no worries.) High-key crushing on Elaana but doesn't know how to act on it.

Qhals Species: Acinonyx Age: 19 Pronouns: He/Him Position: Linguist Appearance: Feline centaur with short fur, spots, and the cutest little floofy ears that give away his emotions (as the youngest crew member he gets teased relentlessly) Fun Fact: Qhals is comparable to a cheetah for several reasons - his spots, his ability to get along with a wide variety of species (aka there's no such thing as strangers, just friends he hasn't met yet), and his ability to mimic most vocal languages, and understand almost all of them! He is a true polyglot, and even without his translator implant can usually pick up on the gist of foreign languages through universal constants, body language, and charades. (Max asked him about something called 'autism' once, but apparently Acinonyx often have special interests that vary and becoming hyper fixated on something isn't unusual. Max squinted and asked about something called 'trains', which Qhals admitted to not being familiar with, though he did start info-dumping on a trolley-like system common in his home planets capital. This, for some reason, set Max giggling.)

Ir'ith Species: Zad (distant relatives of Corvi, from the same planet) Age: Nobody knows - old, though. Pronouns: He/Him/Not Late For Dinner Position: Quartermaster/Cook Appearance: Bipedal raven with a wings attached to the back, separate from the arms, forward-facing knees, and feather crests alongside his head that serve as ears Fun Fact: Nobody remembers him being assigned - he just showed up one day and took over as quartermaster and ship cook. Taurvin and Gorvan know his papers are forged, but he's the only one onboard who can cook, and he hasn't been threatening/dangerous, so they've let him be. Unlike Epitak, who can only glide, Ir'ith can fly.

Extra Facts:

Except for the human and snallygaster, all species names have Latin roots. (Google Snallygaster if you haven't, they're incredible. Top 10 cryptid.)

Scientifically, cheetahs are not in the same family as other big cats! They are in the family Felidae, the same as housecats, because they can't roar, and can purr. They can also chirp, chitter, and trill. Qhals can do all of this, plus hiss and growl when he's annoyed. He can yell, but unlike other feline-esque species, he can't roar.

Acinonyx are also very touchy species - they do cuddle piles, greet others with cheek-rubs, and will wrap their tail around friends/family/partners/etc. absent mindedly. This extends to other species as well, and it is not uncommon to find Qhals wrapped around somebody in the common areas while they do work/nap/watch the space equivalent of YouTube/etc.

The other feline species on the Qhals planet of Dae (which are heavily reminiscent of human feline species because a human is writing this) range in size from the large, striped Gris who excel in gladiatorial sports to the tiny, spotted Ailurus who are renowned trackers, hunters, and trappers (and who will stab you if you make fun of their height). Unlike the Corvi and Zad, there is no hierarchy between the species and subspecies, but instead a dependency on everyone to do what is needed to help society flourish. That's not to say racist, speciest pricks don't exist, but when everyone has knives for claws, they tend to keep it on the downlow in public.

Traditionally, on their planet, Zad are subservient to Corvi, due to size and power difference. While Epitak is larger than Ir'ith, the latter has never once deferred to the former, and in fact seems to take great joy in denying Epitak any form of traditional respect.

Few Bubalus leave their planet - while they are content to trade, they are a very insular species and prefer to stay home. The countries of their world are divided into different communities with different dialects, traditions, etc. The one Lenzoill was from had set traditional gender roles and ideals for what a young female who can bear children should do. Infertile females are often shunned and sent to relatives in other communities who are more open minded.

In this story/setting, Humans are very much a 'recent' species (less than 200 years of integration), and thus there are still many rumors and such about them. They are not often seen in the far reaches of space (making Max an anomaly for many), and are known as a violent, bloodthirsty species who are willing to do whatever they must for survival/riches/clout. Very much a space orc ideal of them, which Max is 10000% willing to use to their advantage when their friends/crew are in trouble. (There's no way that will ever backfire. Nope. Never.)

There is this awful art piece of them, which I plan on redrawing eventually now that I have a better idea of how I want them to work. Not anytime soon - Summer Reading Program is in full swing and I barely have time to blink, let alone draw - but hopefully within the next few months. I'm also working on an 'origin story' of how Max joined the crew, and their reactions to it, and have a stockpile of ideas to work on in the future when I have a chance.

I'm so happy this story keeps getting attention, and that so many people like it! The EC Theobromine is definitely going to have more adventures. : D

(PS: I keep putting 'he' instead of 'they' for Max, if you see that in a story please let me know so I can correct it. Max is nonbinary and I sometimes mistype and don't catch it during writing/editing.)