#so many ideas r floating in my head that i want to draw but just cant start....

[posebean]

2023 the year i draw more things than just pikachu....

[13uswntimagines]

Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)

Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her, none of this would have happened. 

Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).

So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,” 

The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,” 

Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled. 

Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...

“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours. 

“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”

“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”

“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment. 

“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”

“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking. 

“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”

“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,” 

“Your team?” 

“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment. 

Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?” 

“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip. 

“No biggie?  I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’

“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed. 

“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”

“What??” 

****

“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone. 

When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was. 

“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”

“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her. 

“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose. 

“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back. 

She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage. 

“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”

You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly. 

“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple. 

You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?” 

“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously. 

You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows. 

“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously. 

…...

“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call. 

“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something. 

Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal). 

“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.” 

“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated). 

While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”

“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose. 

“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you. 

“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned. 

“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”

“-ove y- -oo” 

Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”

“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea. 

“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation. 

“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”

“great.”

Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go. 

****

Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean. 

“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point). 

“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles. 

You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.” 

“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance. 

The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient. 

“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods. 

“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground. 

“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.  

“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food. 

“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth. 

“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,” 

****

You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue. 

“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”

“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.

 “But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met. 

“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours. 

“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes. 

“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you. 

“Hm, I’m your goof,” 

“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her. 

“No more space travel for a while?” 

 “Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers. 

“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien - From the Heart Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Recently, the company undertook a variety show on love. Today is the first day of filming of the new program.

The gate of the studio is facing a leisure park. After winter, the fallen leaves of the platanus will cover the road and creak when stepping on it.

There are occasional wild boars here, but nearby residents always place cat food for them in conspicuous places, so their lives are quite moist.

He always eats chubby, lying on the fallen leaves in the sun.

It happened that Xu Mo had a lecture today at a nearby hotel, and we made an appointment to have lunch together in this park.

But the work in the morning ended a little later than expected.

When I arrived in the park in a hurry, Xu Mo seemed to have been sitting on a bench for a long time.

The winter sun poured a lot of wine on his shoulders, drawing a warm light on his slightly drooping side face.

After running his fingers across a few lines of headlines on the news, he casually turned a page of the newspaper lying on his lap.

Perhaps disturbed by the sound of the paper, the magpie, which had been resting on the treetops, suddenly spread its wings to win the sky, hovering around the plane trees behind him.

With a "click" sound from the phone, Xu Mo raised his head and met my sight in the golden sun.

I was about to speak, but Xu Mo laughed a step ahead of me.

Xu Mo: Don't be sorry, it didn't take long.

MC: Professor Xu knows how to read minds, he can guess what am I thinking.

Xu Mo: Mind reading is simple, and so will you. If you don’t believe me, you can try and guess what I’m thinking now.

MC: You should be thinking how to punish this late person?

Xu Mo: Well, a good guess.

MC: Why not punish her to eat dinner with Professor Xu at night.

I sat down next to Xu Mo. He put away the newspapers and took out the coffee and sandwiches prepared for me from the paper bag.

Xu Mo: It's a good proposal. However, your new show has received very enthusiastic response. The filming of the last few issues should be very busy, right?

MC: These two days are okay, and no matter how busy the work is, it is no more important than eating with Professor Xu.

I took the coffee and opened the drinking spout on the lid of the cup, and a hazelnut scent spread immediately, making the noon breeze mixed with the sweetness of winter.

MC: How about you, how about today's lecture?

MC: Sneak out during lunch break...

MC: It should disappoint many professors who want to have lunch with you and take the opportunity to exchange a few more words, right?

Xu Mo gave a frank hum, but his expression was always relaxed and casual.

Xu Mo: It doesn't matter, I have a valid reason, they can understand.

He crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair and squinted.

Xu Mo: I told them that I was in charge of the program as a consultant and encountered some problems during the filming, so I had to take the time to communicate with the producer at noon.

I was stunned for a moment.

MC: Professor Xu, based on my assessment of the status quo, it can be understood as: Have you lied to them?

Xu Mo showed a serious expression.

Xu Mo: If the producer is willing to talk to me about the shooting of the show, I think this cannot be called a lie.

Xu Mo: How is it, has the problem you mentioned to me been solved?

During the shooting of this love variety show, something unexpected happened to me.

A female guest told us after the filming of several episodes of the show that she really had a feeling for a male guest on the show.

She proposed an idea and wanted to make a confession part in the program.

This is not only a brilliant idea in terms of program effects, but also fits the theme of the variety show. After several discussions, we decided to cooperate with her in planning.

But the specific way of confession made us tangled for several days.

MC: At that time, we were a little too solemn when we wanted to give gifts. We were deliberately alone and afraid of embarrassment.

Xu Mo turned to me with his arm on the back of the chair, listening patiently.

Xu Mo: And now, is there a conclusion?

MC: Of course~ I am very professional in doing matchmaker.

I vividly described to Xu Mo the opinions that the program team finally reached.

MC: We are going to put her confession note in the clue box in advance.

MC: This is a puzzle-solving session of a two-person team. When the time comes, the male guest will be alone to open the box.

MC: If he is surprised when he sees this note, it will be Happy Ending!

After listening to my description, Xu Mo sighed.

Xu Mo: It takes courage to express your feelings frankly.

Xu Mo: Girls, are always braver than I thought.

The prosperous sunshine shrouded Xu Mo, and I looked sideways at his silhouette overlapping with the light, and every corner of my heart was covered with light emotions.

There are long white clouds floating in the sky, I am holding hot coffee, and my thoughts are also floating slowly.

MC: The moment when ‘liking’ happen, the feeling of heartbeat becomes a seed.

MC: It will grow instinctively, facing the sun and rain.

MC: As for what kind of flower will eventually bloom, it may no longer be important.

MC: The important thing is an instinct.

I leaned closer to Xu Mo, looking at him tightly with my eyes, making a meaningful hint.

MC: As long as this person's eyes look at me, the sun will pour down, and the seeds will surely break through the soil.

He propped his chin and smiled faintly.

Xu Mo: Is it the same instinct as moths attracted to fire?

MC: .....

I suddenly stopped talking.

Xu Mo showed some doubts.

Xu Mo: Did I say something wrong?

MC: Hahaha although it is a bit horrible... but what I think of is a big mosquito lying on the lampshade.

The warm atmosphere was inexplicably broken, and Xu Mo's expression was emotional.

MC: So it's better not a moth, it can be a better looking insect.

Xu Mo: .....

Xu Mo: Haha.... hahahahaha

I don't know why I got into his smile. Xu Mo laughed out of nowhere. He even stooped slightly and put his forehead on my shoulder.

After a while, he raised his head and looked at me, still smiling while talking.

Xu Mo: Well, it's not a moth, it's the instinct of the world's best-looking insect to attack the source of fire.

Seeing that Xu Mo was in such a good mood, I couldn't help but want to tease him a little bit, so I deliberately made a distressed expression, sighed and lowered my head.

MC: What a pity....

Xu Mo: What's wrong?

I took the last bite of the sandwich and patted the crumbs on my fingers, pretending.

MC: The atmosphere was so good just now, I could have taken the opportunity to kiss you.

I caught the slight astonishment in Xu Mo's eyes, and learned his tone mischievously.

MC: I'm teasing you, don't be nervous.

Suddenly he got up and stepped in front of me, bent down directly, and got close to the distance that crossed my breath.

The clear eyes in front of me fell into a pale yellow halo, swaying gentle ripples.

He did nothing, was silent, and looked at me quietly with these eyes.

One second, two seconds, five seconds...ten seconds.

I lowered my gaze subconsciously several times, but every time I lifted it up again, I could see an inch of smile on his lips.

Damn it, lost again!

I turned my face in discouragement, put on a stubborn expression and no longer looked at him, he gave a triumphant smile, and pressed his lips to my forehead.

Xu Mo: Okay, I have to go back to work.

Xu Mo: The spare key is still in the same place. If you can't find it, remember to send me a message.

The voice was soaked with warmth, as if the sun had melted in it all winter.

I feel my auricles are burnt red, nodded.

At the end of lunch time, I hurried back to the studio.

In the afternoon, I mainly took some empty shots with very little content. The ending time was two hours earlier than I expected.

According to the agreement with Xu Mo, I went to his house in advance to wait for him.

When the door was pushed, the wind from the balcony exposed the corridor, blowing a bunch of papers hung on the wall. I quickly closed the door and walked to the paper curiously.

MC: When did Xu Mo paint these...

A thin hemp rope hung on the wall, and seven or eight semi-finished paintings were clamped on them with wooden clips.

All the paintings are me.

I was standing in the snow, I was squatting on the ground to pick up maple leaves, and I was standing in the wheat ears during an outing...

The reason they are said to be semi-finished products is because Xu Mo only gave them half the color.

Many scenes still have traces of sketches, only me and the things around me have color.

It is like a drop of paint falling in water. The color in the middle is dense. The more it spreads, the lighter the color.

But there is only me in these paintings...

I personally made the next decision and took out the easel from the corner of the balcony.

MC: But...

I looked down at my cashmere coat. If I rubbed the paint, it should not be easy to wash.

After a short hesitation, I pulled out a white coat from Xu Mo's laundry basket, which he had not put in the washing machine, and replaced it.

I'll help him wash all these later.

After I was ready, I rolled up my sleeves, picked up the paintbrush and traced Xu Mo's profile on the drawing paper...

Time always flies quickly when you focus on doing things.

When I raised my head again, the window was already a little gloomy, leaving only a faint golden sunset on the curtains.

There was a creaking sound from the door. Once I looked back, I found that Xu Mo had already walked in.

Xu Mo: Sure enough, you were earlier than me.

He put down his briefcase and put on slippers.

Xu Mo: Are you painting?

MC: Uh, yeah~

Xu Mo: It's a good pastime. I'm still worried on the way back. You won't know how to pass the time.

I put aside the paintbrush, stretched my waist, and scratched my wrist.

MC: Although I used Professor Xu's drawing board without authorization, I have a reasonable use.

I removed the half-colored draft from the drawing board and showed it to Xu Mo excitedly.

MC: Although the grading is a little frustrating....

MC: The color of the hair is darker, the complexion on the face is whiter, and the lip color seems too red.

MC: But on the whole, it still shows 80% of the beauty of Professor Xu.

MC: How do you rate it?

Xu Mo didn't speak, but just stared at the painting in my hand and looked again.

He lightened his tone, and gently ran his fingers across the paint on the painting, and the wet color was on his fingertips.

Xu Mo: The painting is so good, I like it very much.

Seeing him a little lost, I shook the painting in my hand in front of him again.

MC: Andㅡit has a little secret!

I took one of Xu Mo's paintings, overlapped the two papers, and clamped it in between.

Although the brushstrokes are different and the colors are very different, the backgrounds of the two paintings can blend together well.

The golden wheat field connects to the azure blue sky, me and Xu Mo are facing each other in the painting, and our eyes intersect.

Naturally as if this is the original picture, there should be two people

MC: It didn't turn over!!! 

Before I painted, I didn't expect that my technique had advanced to this level.

Xu Mo stood behind me at some point, stretched out his hand to embrace my waist from behind, and pulled me into his arms.

Xu Mo: The painting is very good, I really like it.

I look back and stuck to the his side profile.

Xu Mo: I also like the paintings you paint, but if the paintings are the two of us together, I would like them better.

Xu Mo tightened his arms.

Xu Mo: I didn't mean it.

Xu Mo: Otherwise, if you talk about it, people don't have themselves in their memory. How do you draw a picture of two people?

MC: Hm.

MC: You're right.

Xu Mo's chuckle came in my ears. I pressed against the warmth of his chest and looked at the painting in front of me.

MC: Xu Mo, are you painting these, is it something to commemorate?

MC: I look at these paintings. They are all scenes from our previous trips. Some of them are from a long time ago.

Xu Mo: It is a part of memories, but it is not a memorial.

Xu Mo: It's just that these pictures are all in my mind, so I simply painted them.

Xu Mo: Or...

He paused suddenly.

Without urging me, we fell into a long silence.

The setting sun outside the window has completely sunk below the horizon, and in the dim room, the sound of the two people's interlaced breathing one after another

The gloomy light cast our shadows on the wall. From this angle, I saw that his bent waist ridge showed a slight arch.

The skin on the side of the neck is filled with a moist smell, which is the breath of Xu Mo that I am most familiar with.

Xu Mo: MC, there are some people in this world.

He spoke slowly, his voice was always calm, and his arms tightened again around my waist.

Xu Mo: Not realizing that "heartbeat" is the beginning of all beautiful stories

Xu Mo: When they find that they have the emotion of "like", the first thing they feel is uneasy.

Xu Mo: They will choose to suppress themselves, resist the occurrence of "likes", and always remind themselves not to fall into this emotion.

Xu Mo: The heartbeat they feel is a complex emotion mixed with anxiety.

Xu Mo: For such people, it can be difficult to express yourself frankly.

Xu Mo put his chin on my shoulder, and stretched out his hand, rubbing his palm on the drawing paper in front of him.

Xu Mo: I have been practicing this candor since a long time ago.

Xu Mo: What you see is the result of practice.

MC: ....

I was speechless for a while and didn't know how to describe my feelings at the moment.

He suddenly bent over and picked me up, strode to the front hall, and put me on the table.

Dark blue night was thrown into the room, and the deep eyes that were close at hand had dark gutters, and they were silently conveying something.

Xu Mo: Or maybe I paint these paintings just to tell you what kind of flowers the seed planted in my heart bloomed.

The ice layer, which had been covered by snow for a long time, finally cracked a tiny mark and made an inaudible sound, but it clearly fell into my ears at this moment.

What followed was that the invading ice tide finally broke through the heavy ice and flowed into the spring.

I fixedly looked at him, as if finally seeing the person in front of me as the person I knew best.

Xu Mo: You are right, the upward growth of seeds is an instinct.

Xu Mo: Even if you know that you will risk tears when you build bonds with others.

Xu Mo: Even if this effect can be explained by factors such as dopamine, phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and endorphins, I cannot suppress this instinct.

He paused and took my hand to his lips.

Xu Mo: I am willing to obey this instinct.

All the language that expresses emotions is stuck in my throat, and there is no way to convey and vent it.

Xu Mo smiled and came up.

When our lips touched, I saw the tide surge in his eyes.

Xu Mo: .....

All the senses are overwhelmed by such turbulent emotions, as if falling into the deep sea, the hands we hold together are tightly clasped.

Sanity is slowly being pulled away, only the hot breath is getting stronger and stronger.

I opened my eyes slightly, and saw the most straightforward expression in his eyes, which he always used to be silent.

MC: Xu Mo....

Between my lips and the tip of my tongue, I called his name softly, as if reading a mark on my heart.

Xu Mo: Hm..

Slowly, Xu Mo's lips and teeth went down and gently bit on the side of my neck. I was itchy by him. Several times I tried to turn my head to avoid, but I was caught by him.

He seemed to be aroused, and nibble all the way from the side of the neck to the earlobe.

I stepped back half an inch, and he went one foot in until he forced me to the corner, completely circled into his arm.

MC: Xu Mo, you  shameless...

After I protested in a low voice, he finally let go of me slightly, his eyes full of interest.

Xu Mo: I know.

Xu Mo: But no matter what I want, you will satisfy me, won't you?

MC: Bad guy.

He has an innocent tone.

Xu Mo: Is this a bad guy?

I nodded heavily.

He put on an expression of serious thinking, but reached a conclusion within a few seconds.

Xu Mo: Apart from making you a little irritated, there seems to be nothing wrong with being a bad guy.

Xu Mo: Besides, your face now is really cute.

Xu Mo: People can't help but want to bullied the cute.

MC: ...

MC: You are still righteous!

Xu Mo: Oh, yes.

Xu Mo smiled, buried his head on my shoulder, and exhaled gently.

Xu Mo: MC, Do you know what instinct brings me?

He opened his mouth softly and whispered.

Xu Mo: Happiness.

Xu Mo: A pleasure in which desires are satisfied and worries are filled.

Xu Mo: In other words, it is this kind of happiness that makes me unable to resist this instinct.

His hand slid across my waist, cupped my cheek, and kissed every inch of my skin.

But every time, it was just a light touch.

Not a strong desire, I feel more of a gentle invasion at this moment.

From the side of the neck to the cheeks, from the corners of the lips to the eyes.

Like tides over the ankles and fine sand over the toes.

He distanced himself and looked into my eyes carefully.

Xu Mo: I want to thank the light coming from these eyes.

Xu Mo: Let the seed in my heart bloom a beautiful flower.

Hot fingertips ran across my skin, Xu Mo clasped my hand and pushed me completely against the wall.

The fine kisses linger on the side of the neck, and he sucks lightly and hardly, leaving warm red marks on it.

The night enveloped the city.

The deep night mixed with the beautiful blue slowly spread out, and the deep background color was reflected in Xu Mo's eyes.

Xu Mo: I am glad I did not miss the beginning of this wonderful story.

Xu Mo: As for the ending of this story...

Xu Mo: What do you hope it looks like?

I thought for a while, but couldn't answer.

MC: I didn't think about it.

MC: But it must be better than the beginning.

I stretched out my hand to pull Xu Mo's tie, and skillfully pulled it out of the collar.

However, the brain becomes clear inexplicably under the action of complex sensory organs, and plays back one memory after another.

MC: In fact, at the beginning, I was not always firm, and I was a little uneasy, a little bit uncertain.….

MC: I often feel that you are in front of me, but so far from me.

Xu Mo paused slightly, but did not stop.

Xu Mo: And then?

I tried to think about it, and couldn't help but giggle.

MC: I'm so happy, so happy that could forget this anxiety

MC: You look happy when you look at me, and you are happy when you talk to me.

MC: If you stay with me for a little while, I can even be happy all day.

Xu Mo reached out and stroked the side of my face, sighing in a low voice

Xu Mo: Silly girl.

I pulled on his collar, trying to get him closer to me.

MC: Xu Mo, I want to hug you.

MC: ... also want to be held by you.

Xu Mo pulled me completely into his arms, tightening his arms hard enough to prevent us from leaving a little gap.

I clung to his embrace and kept in mind every bit of his feelings.

Looking back now, maybe all the good stories in the world have their beginnings to follow.

But someone stood in front of me, and I was very happy because of it.

Then he looked at me, and my heart bloomed.

---------- END ----------

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

[almondmilks-posts]

Schlatt- executed pt2

*I am so proud of part 1

pls go show some love

Maybe a SERIES?? Maybe pt3??? Maybe some more angst?? Maybe some cute fluff with glatt?? Maybe idk if you would like to see more uwu

This took so long omg... I'm sorry

Context: in part 1 you became ghost!y/n much like Ghostbur  you forgot most of your memories including your death...

Life after death was weird. You had very vague memories of each member of the sever but other than that you completely forgot about your past life including how you died. You never expected that you would become a sentiant ghost on the server after death you also never expected Wilbur to become one either so here we are. You took a great liking to Ghostbur as he did to you, you both hanging out became a regular occurrence on the SMP you mainly liked hanging around quackity he had these homely vibes to him that made you want to be around him but you were not quite sure why although he had been seeing you less and less and when you did meet he seemed on edge always looking behind him, shaking his head off to the distance when you turn around, nothing.

You didn't know why Ghostbusr was obsessed with the colour blue, always handing out lapis lazuli to saddened goes by with a "here have some blue" but he always did. You guys can't mine down in the caves something about bedrock pressure?  but he always had stacks of blue on him at all times.

You- hey bur where do you get the blue from?

Ghostbur- oh uhhh umm I just have it sometimes I get it from Phill

You- oh cool. I want something I'm not sure I've decided on what...

Ghostbur- hmmmmm y/n how about

You- I know red mushrooms because they look so cool like lil toadstools.

Ghostbur- yes that's such a good idea

You- I need to ask Phil to see if he has any spare mushrooms adiós bur I'll see you later.

You began to float your way over the the snowy tundra that Phil resides in. You passed many different landmarks on your way only knowing by the names you and ghostbur had given them. Home home also known as the community House although in ruins after it was exploded by puffy. You did try to stop her however your attempts were unsuccessful. 

You- omg I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going here look I have some seeds take this as a sorry

You were in your thoughts so much that you had phased into a body. As a ghost you are able to phase through people However you phased into the body meaning whoever you walked into was not alive. You reached your arms into your pockets to see what you have as a sorry before the mushrooms which you still haven't been managed to find any. Thecno needing them for potions ofc knowing the butcher army was coming for him he planicked stealing so many resources including some of blue from Wilbur accidentally. You found three seeds in your pockets your had picked up from when you were hanging around Callahan (he's my fav on the SMP omg) and punz this one time just giving while punz went on a nether mission for ghast tears. You extended your arm out to the person, lifting your head up to look the person in the eyes.

Glatt- y/n?

He had Horns. Deep black horns protruding out the side of his head. His skin a pale grey ash colour, contrasting his flaming red eyeballs which looked down upon you due to the height difference. His suit a very dark grey almost black but not quite,  You looked at him than back at the seeds. He seemed like he didn't take any interest in taking the seeds from you as a sorry, you furrowed your eye brows at his sort of question? You really didn't remember your past life, thecno told you that most ghosts don't when they die the ones that do are 'poor damned souls of wrong doers' comforting you that you did some good when you were living.

You- uhh sorry I don't know a y/n?? Im ghosty/n! Well it would make sense that I'm y/n well was y/n hahahaha I don't remember much from my past life unfortunately

Glatt- you don't- you don't remember how you died do you?

You- uhhh no? Should I? I ask quackity you know quackity right? Small guy, blue beanie anyway he wouldn't tell me how I died he said it was a too long to explain anyway I gotta go bye uhhhh...

Glatt- oh it's glatt

You- well nice to meet you glatt if you see Phill tell him I need some red mushrooms

And with that you floated off on your mission to find some red mushrooms. Glatt stood there face slashed red. He felt embarrassed? Sick to his stomach? He wasn't quite sure what he felt, quackity had told him of your ghost life when he was pestering quackity this one time however he was scared. He was once a ruthless tryrant president drinking all day and all night because he couldn't handle the power and disappointment of his peers knowing he was struggling being president so he turned to alcohol. He was so plastered when he stabbed you he didn't even know what he did until quackity and Niki Walked out on him with some fruitful words.

Schlatt thought back to when quackity had confronted him, carrying your enchanted diamond boots Phil brought on your wedding day and never took them off since. Quackity looked so hopeless his eyes filled with tears, trembling hands as he screamed at schlatt so hard his vocal cords never recovered even after all this time and everything he's been through. Despite this he carried on trying to ruin quackity's life. Even after death the fucker never lost his need for power and bullying quackity is all he knew how. The issue was he could not find the small mexican, he floated all through what manburg was, he floated past the church, the target, the community house but no sign of quackity. He was searching through the community house for anything he could steal just because 'he was glatt he could do what he wants'; as a ghost he really didn't change. A fit of giggles rung through his ears, he hadn't heard that noise in years. Glatt knew that it was you of course you were married for several years before the incident. He caught himself smiling as he once did to see your face (which could easily fit between his larger hands.) He floated across towards where the noise would come from. To see you, a blue sheep with a wonkey eye and Wilbur? He felt anxious, his ghost heart started beating faster, if he wasn't dead he would be having another heart attack right now that would actually kill him. He wasn't sure of it was because you look so happy contracting the last time him saw your glum face as the XP dropped or knowing Wilbur might still be bitter about the election or what happened as a result of it.

You toyed with the blue sheep known as friend. Friend was the first thing ghostbur saw when he woke up as a ghost so there was a major bond between the two,.you would argue it was a closer bond than what tied you with Wilbur but nothing could compare to that. You both had years and years of history some even before Tommy was born but you both just didn't know that. (maybe pt3 y/n becomes human??) Friend was very entertaining for a blue sheep fried could make you and ghostbur cry with laughter but just standing there. ( Ok this is my HC so it's not cannon but I think it should be) The blue sheep had a lazy eye, so for long enough if the sheep did nothing the eyes would travel opposite directions as per usual you and ghostbur were dying over this. You bent down to pick at a blade if grass to feed to friend when a glum feeling came over you. Were you being watched? You wanted to cry, so you turned your head to Look at the assailant to see glatt standing there just looking at you or through you it was unclear.

You-oh hey uhhh glatt? Ah yes I'm right would you like to come hang out with friend, ghostbur and I would love it if you joined us and I'm sure friend doesn't mind you do you? No you don't because you are a cute sheep boopboop

Glatt- I'm not so sure

You- oh come on don't be such a killer it would be fun friend is very well friendly haha come on.

You grasped his cold wrist with your much warmer hands. The size difference between the two contrasted immensely. You blushed, a warm feeling coming over you almost as if you had known him for years. Which y/n did but you didn't know that.  Schlatt frowned at you calling him a killer, did you know? Did Wilbur tell you? A lot happened to manburg after you had died, stuff you missed that you could and would have stopped. You dragged schlatt closer to where friend was excited Wilbur could meet your 'new' friend glatt.

You- hahah bur meet glatt

Ghostbur- oh uh hey glatt nice to meet you, your a friend of n/n's huh?

Glatt- uhh yea something like that

Ghostbur- oh crap! I have to meet with Callahan (he's my fave member) I'm helping him build a forest, well you guys have fun with friend. And glatt? Its nice to see you again.

And with that he floated away from the pair riend looked at schlatt than back at you, than back at schlatt. Its pink tounge slipping out of its mouth. Glatt looked down at you sitting cross legged on the grass petting friend. He thought you looked beautiful with the sun on your ghostlike form, he felt shame wash over him he really ruined you.

You- sit next to me glatt, the sun isn't that bright down here

Glatt- no I don't want to get my suit dirty!

You sighed, why was he so cold? Was it that he didn't like you, was it the fact that he didn't like friend no that's not true everyone loves friend. You frowned over thinking lots of things glatt noticed your frown after he yelled at you; he felt worse that he yelled. Many nights after your death did he think about you and his actions. He numbed the feeling penultimately resulting in further alcoholism and finally his death. He kept your diamond boots in his desk draw so they could be next to him at all times he even picked up some of your XP but that stuff didn't matter to him. Nothing mattered to him. Expect you. He never was good at expressing his feelings to you, and you never pushed him to do that.

Glatt- do you seriously not remember your past life?

You- hmmmm not much

Glatt- what do you know tell me?

You- well, I don't really remember memories it's more feelings and smells towards something? Like Niki I feel very calm and peaceful around her she smells like bread, Wilbur it's like he feels like a brother to me and he smells like gunpowder almost, ummmm who else? Oh Tecno smells like potatoes I'll tell you about that some other time

Glatt- what about me? What do I smell like ( Father Fragrance??)

You- ummmmm it's a weird metallic smell? At first I was like iron smell but I'm not so sure. I was super anxious when I first saw you almost hmmm anger? Fear? But I also wanted to give you a hug it's weird what about me... Your a ghost I'm sure it's the same for you it is for wilbur... What do I smell like glatt?

Glatt- uhh well, it's metallic aswell

You-oh heyy look it's ranboo, Ran heyy look down here? Ranboo? Oh no he's enderwalking again ok well this conversation isn't over glatt

You followed the half enderman who appears to be on his enderwalking state. You don't say much to him as you know he won't hear or respond to you. You follow him past twitch prime, past the portal near to the prison? Confused you stood behind him a little, why was he going to the prison? To see Sam you hope...

But no. He didn't.

[onelilhippie]

OUTCAST: chapter ten

story masterlist

i do not own this gif

—

EVERYONE'S BRIGHT idea was to use nancy's sister's lite-brite for communication. so, we ended up huddled over the upside down version of nancy's bed, staring in anticipation for dustin's next move. everyone was getting impatient, especially eddie, who was rocking back and forth, lips pursed. i tried calming him down, smoothing my hand over his back, but he wanted out of here.

dustin's voice suddenly floated through the air, but we didn't catch his full sentence, "-seeing this?"

the air in front of us had lit up, causing the familiar orange hue to pulse. nancy and i ran our hands through it in awe, and we could faintly hear my brother's cackling laugh on the other side. i smiled at the sound, i missed his dumb little face. 

i waved my hand through the mist beside nancy's, watching it run through the spaces between our fingers like fine sand. dustin's voice floated through again, louder this time.

"we're not moving it, but we're gonna unplug it! stand by." he ordered. in a blink, the orange disappeared, and i was kind of sad the feeling had left.

"okay, try it now!" dustin spoke up a second later.

eddie turned to me and bumped my shoulder with his, but i turned to nancy, who seemed to want to be in charge. i nodded to her and she set her eyes on the orange space in front of us, looking a little nervous.

"uh..." she said slowly, touching in front of her. the air glowed, and she drug her finger through the mist that reappeared, drawing the word 'hi' with her fingers. i gasped, completely amazed with the sight in front of me. i turned to eddie, who had the same astounded look on his face.

"that worked!" dustin called, and we all broke into excited smiles. i clapped my hands together and eddie threw an arm over my shoulder, squeezing me in a side hug.

"yes! hi!" eddie exclaimed happily, pulling me into him.

nancy contemplated what to write again, as we had very limited space here. she then began to spell, i watched as she drew the letters: 's', 't', 'u', then 'c' and 'k'. eddie leaned forward, hopeful, humming in conformation.

"you can't get back through watergate?" dustin yelled back. i fucking laughed. of course my brother would make a joke out of this, calling it watergate.

"what the hell is watergate?" steve asked, clueless as ever.

"steve... water. gate." i spelled out for him, shaking my head. robin was nicer in her explaining, talking to him as if he were a child.

"cause it's in water, and it's a gate."

"oh."

"that's cute." eddie smiled, glancing at me as i giggled. nancy turned back to the board, talking to herself as she spelled out our next answer, 'g... u... a...r...d... e...d.'.

"watergate's guarded!" dustin said again, figuring us out. i jumped in excitement, hoping we'd get a plan together soon. everything was going so smooth, maybe we'd get out of here unscathed.

"yes dustin!" i yelled out.

"we think we have a theory that can help with that!" dustin replied. everyone sighed in immediate relief.

"genius child." robin commented. i definitely agreed. without my brother, we'd have been dead a long time ago. no one else could figure things out like dustin could.

"we think watergate isn't the only gate, we think there's a gate at every murder site!" dustin's voice floated in and out. it was hard to hear more than a few words at a time without him cutting out. i turned to the others.

"does anyone understand what he's talking about?" nancy asked us. we all shook our heads no, not at all. i reached out and drew a question mark, hoping he'd understand that we didn't get it. dustin started yelling.

"seriously? how many times do i have to be right on the money before you just trust me!" my brother screeched, ever so loudly. i sighed at the same time steve did, shaking my head.

"jesus christ. this kid's gotta get his ego in check."

"you're telling me. try living with him." i laughed, shaking my head once again. eddie leaned into the conversation.

"it's his tone, right?"

"i know!" steve agreed. i nodded along with them. it was definitely his tone. always.

"okay. so... how far is your trailer?" nancy asked eddie.

"seven miles." he answered.

"nancy?" robin asked, "uh... i know your house here is like, creepily frozen in time and shit, but haven't you always had bikes?"

so, we ended up pulling together some bikes from nancy's garage. they only had four, but i had no problem jumping on the back of eddie's bike, wrapping my arms around his middle and snuggling in. the leather was cool on my skin, and he leaned into me for a moment.

"we'll be okay." he commented, looking over his shoulder at me. i looked up at eddie and nodded, smiling at him. he turned halfway towards me to press a soft kiss to my lips, then turned back around. i fastened myself against him again, my cheek pressed against his back. as soon as everyone was ready, we sped off down the road, headed to eddie's trailer.

˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄

after a long ride of my ass being sore and the sky grumbling creepily, we made it to eddie's trailer park. the bike leaned sideways as we turned onto the driveway for his home.

"right here." he pointed, stopping finally. i groaned as i got off, my back cracking from being super uncomfortable. eddie stood, hands behind his head, stretching, while robin once again rambled.

"that's gotta be a guinness world record or something. most miles traveled interdimensionally." she shook her head, following eddie and i up to his trailer.

"just inhaled a bunch of that crap," steve coughed, spit into the grass, "it's stuck in my throat."

"how do you think im doing?" i asked them both, audibly cracking my neck. steve groaned in disgust and eddie chuckled at me. the other two shook their heads and opened the door, stepping inside.

as soon as we were in, we saw a gate similar to the one in the lake. it was glowing red, pulsing like it was alive. i scrunched up my face, grossed out, squinting at the bright red light it emanated.

"goddamn." steve said, clicking his flashlight off.

"that's nasty." i whispered, staring.

"this is where chrissy died." my attention turned to eddie, "like, right where she died."

the gate was making these awful squelching noises. i was pretry fucking sure it was alive or something like that. it was moving. and it was grossing me out.

"i think there's something in there." robin commented as it started to somehow cave in. i leaned back into eddie, who held on protectively, but also cocked his head in curiosity.

"what the hell is that?" steve whispered. we were all staring intently now, not taking our eyes off the gate. then it broke open, startling us all. nancy and i yelped, and i fell back into eddie, almost knocking us both to the floor.

for a moment, we all looked at each other. we didn't know what could possibly be punching through the gate. steve, seemingly brave, took baby steps up to the opening. we shortly followed behind him, peering up into the gap between the two worlds.

"no way..." steve breathed.

i looked up to see my brother, lucas, max and erica, who had broken through the gate with the end of a broom. but... they were upside down, like they were standing on the ceiling. my brother started cackling his signature laugh.

"hi there! hey marnie!" he waved, smiling. we all said our hellos back. everyone started laughing. i smiled wide, just really fucking happy to see my brother again. my heart swelled at the sight of him and his friends across (?) from us.

"am i high?" i asked. i blinked a couple times, they were still upside down.

"holy shit, this is trippy." robin drawled as my brother laughed again.

"bada-bada-boom!" dustin shouted, looking up (down?) at us.

after a few moments of post-trip giggling, we had to devise a way to get out. dustin and his friends seemed to be quick with it, taking sheets from eddie's real place and tying them together, dragging the mattress from his room and placing it directly where we'd fall. i squinted, noticing multiple stains on his bedsheets, and turned to look at him.

"those stains are uh...i don't know what those stains are." eddie admitted, looking away from us. robin hummed in response, probably trying not to think about it. i was just hoping it was beer or something. i pushed those thoughts out of my brain, and watched as my brother threw the chain of sheets through the gate, defying every physics law known to man, while commenting on the same fact.

"not quite sure how these physics are gonna work. but here goes nothin... there we go! and if my theory is correct..."

he let it go, and it stayed still, without dropping back down (up??) and through the gate. i shook my head, choosing not to question these things. as long as we could get out.

"alright pull on it! see if it holds!" he called through. robin shrugged, grabbing and pulling. it wouldn't budge. my jaw dropped.

"this is the craziest shit i've ever seen in my life. and i've seen some crazy shit." erica said, gazing up (down??? jesus) at us.

"guess i'm the guinea pig." robin said, taking hold of the sheets and jumping up to climb. my mind was totally broken at how this worked, how the sheets weren't falling back through. robin climbled up quickly, and as soon as she passed through the gate, she fell onto the matress on the other side. she sat up, panting a bit.

"thank god. that was fun."

the four of us left looked around at each other, and their eyes landed on me. i shook my head, pushing eddie forward, but he resisted. i shook my head, but he placed his hands on the bare skin of my back, pushing me forward.

"you first, princess."

i blushed at the name and hoisted myself onto the sheets. now i had no upper body strength, so i struggled, but i got up high enough. i couldn't quite get through, so eddie climbed up behind me, pushing me through the gate by the ass. before i had time to react, i flipped upside down, landing on my back on the mattress.

"oh shit." i sighed, head spinning for a moment. i got up, watching eddie climb through and fall on the mattress just as i had. he shot upwards, eyes wide.

"that was fun. shit." i grabbed his bicep, tugging him up off the mattress before steve or nancy crushed him. but, no one came straight after him. instead my vision blurred, my head started pounding. i held onto my head, dropping to my knees and squeezing my eyes shut.

the pain dulled for a moment or two and i stood up, opening my eyes to a dark grey room, those slithering vines covering the trailer around me. hadn't i just fell through the gate to real-hawkins? where was everyone? i spun around, everything was grey and murky, my vision was wavering. once the trailer stopped see-sawing, my eyes landed on a deformed body, limbs at odd angles and eyes missing. it was chrissy, in her cheer uniform, all mangled like eddie had described her back in the boathouse.

i gasped, staggering backwards, my eyes welling with tears.

"do you see this, marnie? this is what happened to your friend. the one you abandoned. have you forgotten her already? need i remind you?" a deep voice rumbled inside my head, accompanied by a painful slide of memores flashing through my mind. the screaming fight with chrissy, how she begged for me to come back. the night she told me we couldn't be friends anymore, only a week after i left eddie. i had yelled and shouted at her, i said the worst things imaginable. i thought, in those moments, that i had a right to be that angry at her. but what if i was hurting her more than she hurt me?

suddenly, chrissy was in front of me, perfectly normal and alive, except her eyes were glowing red. we were in her yard, where we stood that night. where she stood, yelling at me to come back, saying she didn't mean it. that she never wanted this to happen. echoes of her yelling filled my ears, then the words she used about me behind my back, calling me a slut, a bitch, outcasting me just days after we fought, days after she begged for my forgiveness.

"i can't be friends with you anymore, marnie. i'm sorry." chrissy said, eyes downcast. my eyebrows pulled together as i stepped forward, wondering if i heard her right.

"what? did... did jason tell you to do this?"

"jason... he told me he's seen how you look at me. he thinks you're disgusting. and frankly, i do too. i'm not gay, marnie. i can't even look at you right now. i don't... i don't want you. not like that. you're disgusting." chrissy spat, venom clear in her voice. she was the only person i had ever told that i was bisexual. my heart basically broke in two at her words, pain thrumming through my chest.

"w-what? you know i don't look at you like that, you're my best friend." i told her. and it was the truth. i never had feelings for my best friend. but jason was jealous that she paid more attention to me, and chrissy must have outed me to him. he wanted me out of her life, and used anything he could to get what he wanted. jason wanted everyone out of her life except for him.

"you're disgusting, marnie. just leave." chrissy whispered, still not looking at me.

"fuck you, chrissy. i hope you get what you deserve. you're just like your family." i sneered, looking straight at her. i didn't mean it, and i regretted it the moment i said it, but i felt the need to hurt her like she hurt me. chrissy's eyes shot up at me, disbelief rushing over her features. her eyes were now the glassy ones.

i stormed off, fighting the tears that threatened to escape, listening to her call after me.

"marnie come back! i didn't mean it! marnie! marnie! please, i can't do this without you! you're my best friend! marnie!" but i didn't look back. chrissy's voice faded as i walked farther away. if she thought i was disgusting, then i'd stay as far away from her as possible.

i shook my head, trying to push the memory away. i knew that i had to do with her struggling. i knew that i was part of the reason that she decided she needed to turn to drugs. and i constantly reminded myself that.

vecna just wanted to dig at my weakness.

chrissy disappeared from in front of me, and the night sky morphed to red. a clock near me ticked, and the ground beneath me was suddenly slithering vines. i was back in the upside down, surrounded by floating pieces of a half crumbled house. the clock chimed four times.

"i see you and your friends have been looking for me, marnie. you were so close. so close to the truth. how was your first experience here, marnie? i hope my friends had good bedside manner. i've been meaning to pay you a visit, but i've been busy. so very busy." the voice continued as i carefully made my way through this nightmare.

i looked around, seeing these.... what i could only describe as stalks of those twisted vines. one held the body of fred, a kid involved in nancy's investigation. another held patrick, the kid who died at the lake. and lastly, chrissy, all mangled and stuck between the vines.

the sky rumbled, and i jumped once again. i looked around, unsure of what i should do next, unsure of how to get out of this mind game.

"don't worry, marnie. while i'm taking care of your friend nancy, i'd love to show you what's in store for you." the voice spoke again.

a shooting pain ran through my head, like a sudden migraine, and i groaned. my eyes squeezed closed again, and when i opened them, i was on my knees, eddie's head in my lap, blood trickling out of his mouth. he was pale, eyes shiny with tears. my vision was fuzzy, unclear. all i could see was his face, hear the rattle of his shallow breath in his chest. i began to panic, chest heaving but then eddie's mouth moved, as if he was speaking to me. my ears began to ring but eddie's voice played clearly in my head.

"i didn't run this time, right marn?"

my face was soaked in tears, and i was shaking as i held eddie's cold body in my hands.

"eddie?" i shook him, "eddie, please! please don't go eds, i need you!"

sobs racked my chest as i shook him, blood falling from his mouth. i could see my tears falling into his skin, the collar of his jacket, but his eyes were empty. he wasn't answering me, he wasn't waking up.

"this is what will happen if you keep digging." the rumbling voice echoed inside my mind. i buried my face in my hands and wiped the tears off my face with the swell of my palms. 

when i removed my hands from my face, shaking, i was once again in that red nightmare, back pressed against one of the thick stalks of vines. i was still shaking from crying, chest heaving from the sobs. there was a creature in front of me, the form of a man but covered in scaly, slithering skin, vines connecting his shoulder and head, running along his neck. he was close enough to me that i could feel his breath as he spoke, his giant clawed hand raised over my head as if he was about to strike. i could feel my eyes threatening to roll to the back of my head agaist my will. i knew he could kill me at any moment.

"playing the hero doesn't always save the world." vecna spoke, letting go of his hold on me.

i landed on my knees, eyes opening as i heard a cacophony of shouts in my name.

[genaleah]

ANSWERING WILDCARD QUESTIONS

For the first time in about a year maybe??? Some of these might be even older than that.

Yes, it is Korka! I definitely want her involved, she’s a wonderful character and there is a *lot* of fun paranormal stuff going on in this setting that she can help them research. Also, I’d just love for her and Nelson to become friends!

Thank you! I love him a lot, and it’s fun to picture him interacting with the other guys. They’d all make for some interesting uncle figures, but they might not be that great in terms of role models.

OHOHO. Devilish laugh. That’s a wonderful idea, and a good way to keep him occupied at some point. He’s a great character, but he’s incredibly powerful, and I want these dudes to solve their own problems whenever possible. 

A good question! I don’t remember most of my dreams, but there’s usually a consistent look to the vivid ones. Lots of water, mountains, creeks, and high, winding roads. There are also a lot of buildings that are closely integrated with nature, even though I have almost never seen construction like that. 

I had not, but now I have! Here’s a trailer, for anyone else that missed it:

https://youtu.be/33HXHaaagsw

I really like these new models! I’m looking forward to watching a playthrough when that’s available. Just like with Rhombus of Ruin, I don’t think I’ll be able to play this one myself.

DOUBLE FINE, I WISH TO SPEAK WITH YOU- no, I’m kidding! I think great minds think alike. But I’m really excited to learn more about that character and possibly involve them in this whole au eventually. 

I’ve actually tried to avoid almost any info about Psychonauts 2 so I can go in mostly-blind, and a lot of the characters are vague to me. It’s fun to look forward to, but it’s also a little harrowing because I don’t know how to anticipate for it!

N...NO..... I NEED TO... Honestly those are old enough that it might be a good idea for me to re-make them, as well as the playing cards I made for the mega playlist cover. I think it’d be nice to remake them as vectors... that might make for a nice art stream sometime. I’ll mention publicly if I start doing that, and sharing any of these conceptual Wildcards arts when they’re done. 

And if you’re just curious about what the tarot cards for the other characters are going to be, it’s this:

Eddie: Judgement, The Magician, The Emperor

Manny: Death, Justice, The World

Sam: The Chariot, The Tower, Strength

Max: The Devil, Wheel of Fortune, Joker

Although! I may actually give the Moon card to Max instead of the Devil, and replace the missing card from Nelson’s selection with the High Priestess?  🤔  I’ll decide when I get to it.

Could be! I’ve flip-flopped occasionally on if I want the split-a-cab gang to participate much in the story. I think they deserve a break, and splitting an apartment in New York seems like a good situation for the four of them.

Oh boy, that must be so disorienting for him. The Psychonauts deal with a lot of hippy-dippy weirdness in a seemingly organized way, but it seems like they’re not as paranoid about safety as a real federal organization would be. Not necessarily a good thing, considering one of their camp counselors went AWOL one day, and the head of the Psychonauts got kidnapped the next. They kinda need to get their act together.

Fun fact, in one of the earlier drafts of Chapter 3 I was actually going to make Nelson get scanned by the equivalent of a metal-detector for malevolent thoughts at the door and get really spooked by it, but I decided against it.

YEAH IT’S ON THE LIST

Honestly, a big bulk of the plot in this just regards characters having to face their mental health struggles... via facing it as literal internal demons, unstable powers, etc.  It’s going to take a little while for any of Eddie’s teammates to realize how MUCH he has going on under the surface because he does a pretty good job of hiding it. “Needing to help others above ever helping themselves” is a hard issue to notice if you’re not looking for it. But it’s a guarantee that once they find out he needs help, they’ll give it; whether that’s making sure he’s not working himself too hard, or fighting off demonic cultists. Care comes in many forms.

SHE NEEDS TO REST.... POOR SYBIL (on the upside, they don’t TECHNICALLY work there, so she might be fine most of the time.)

Strong Bad isn’t a Psychonaut! He’s just a vlogger and a petty (psychic) criminal. It’s honestly not very different from canon.

Free Country, USA is a smalltown hotbed of psychic activity. Nearly everyone there has some mild capacity for supernatural powers, but nobody really notices or cares. Strong Bad just pops the tops off of cold ones and.... sometimes alters reality, a tiny bit. But mostly just in regards to media. The cartoons, comics, etc, that he invents and talks about have a tendency to suddenly voip into existence and nobody knows how. I swear, there’s actually a line of him saying something to this effect, but I can’t find it anywhere.  Don’t worry about it! Nobody in town is ever going to do anything truly nefarious with their powers, so it’s not a high priority on the Psychonauts’ radar, just a weird footnote.

The only reason Homestar is an actual agent is because he seems like exactly the kind of guy to sign up for a job like that on accident and then stick with it. And he’s a talented telekinetic! None of his other friends know about his job or notice his absences.

And just for fun, here’s some weird instances of psychic overpowering that happened in the cartoon:

---

(Poor Strong Sad)

I’ve actually answered this one before! BAM  Pretty sure all of it is still accurate.

Nelson: He sees floating sheets of paper containing notes, questions, etc. Anything that he wants to know more about regarding that person. The notes are subject to edits, cross-outs, ripped pages, etc.

Guybrush: He sees the item that the person is carrying that he wants most. As he gets to know people better, he sees them for their useful skills first.

Manny: His view of most living people is not very kind...

The people he’s closest to will eventually look a lot less garish. More like a flattering, camera-ready versions of themselves.

Eddie: Sickass sketch drawings that look like they belong in the margins of a composition book. The illustrations improve as he gets a better picture of where they’d fit in the internal lore of his mental world.

Sam: A lot like Nelson; Sam pictures case files, though his are a bit more in-depth.

Max: Max’s visions of people are highly personal and uncomfortable for those who witness them. He sees Nelson as a puzzle with a piece missing. Guybrush is a ripped up voodoo doll. Manny is a forgotten ofrenda. Eddie is a powder keg with a long, lit fuse. Sam is Sam, but he’s the wrong one.

I also got two questions that were pretty big subjects, or that I didn’t want to repeat, so I’m gonna cover them pretty broadly:

REGARDING [X] CHARACTER OR SERIES INCLUDED IN THE AU

Sure, I support it! I’ve gotten this question a few times in regards to things that I haven’t had time to delve into yet, or I’m not interested in, so I’m not going to include it into the AU myself. But if you want to explore an idea like that, feel free! This AU is pretty dang collaborative.

My main focus is just on the main 6 properties: Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max.

But my general rule of thumb for “characters that exist somewhere within the background of this story” are any other properties owned by Telltale, Lucasarts, or Double Fine. And considering all of the licensed games that Telltale was getting into before it kicked the bucket, that includes some really weird characters, even up to the Venture Bros. I loved that series, but I’m not really interested in doing anything with them for this story! Partly for my sanity, the canon I’ve picked are already a lot of content to play with. 

ASSORTED QUESTIONS ABOUT THE WILDCARD AU DISCORD

There’s no particular criteria needed to join the discord, and it’s not strictly on a need-to-know basis! Because it’s been a long while since anyone has joined, I've been hesitant about adding new people in... But I‘ve decided to try sending invitations again! Everyone who had asked about it in the past will be getting a ping by me in about a day or so, since I want to double-check if you’re still interested. If you’ve been nervous to ask you can reply to this post or message me privately.

Some things to keep in mind before asking or accepting the invite:

If you’re not a friend or a follower I recognize, I will likely double-check your tumblr along with some other current members before sending the invite. 

Here’s the Rules page, so you know what to expect before you join: 

Be Mindful - Respect other people's boundaries, don't do or say things that would cross the line. If your behavior makes other people feel uncomfortable or unsafe, I will remove you from the chat. In most cases I will try to resolve things with you and offer a chance to do better, but that will depend on the severity of the situation. And if you have any concerns regarding another member of the chat, you can contact me privately.

Health Boundaries - While discussions of mental health do occasionally pop up, do not rely on the chat for help. None of us are equipped to handle serious mental health concerns, and it will only cause distress for everyone. Please seek real help if it is needed! If you rely on people beyond the point that they have asked you to stop, I will remove you from the chat.

NSFW - Generally speaking, try to keep NSFW talk to a minimum. Swearing and humor is fine, but don't get too explicit please! Discussions should usually keep to a PG-13 / occasional R, but no NC-17.

Spoilers & Censorship - Please use the spoiler function to hide story spoilers, as well as discussions and graphic depictions of gore/excessive blood/body horror/severe psychological horror. Include a content warning so that people know what they could potentially be seeing when they click on the censored content. If the spoilered content is the subject of a back-and-forth discussion, please use another warning when you are switching to a different spoilered topic. (Note that these rules were added to the chat later, so be careful when using the search function or back reading.)

The canon series involved with the Wildcard AU are Psychonauts, Puzzle Agent, Monkey Island, Grim Fandango, Brutal Legend, and Sam & Max. Please be mindful of story spoilers!

Channel Organization - Also be mindful of which channel you're in and move a discussion over if need be! That way they don't get too clogged with unrelated info.

Creative Criticism - When it comes to writing, art, or character creation; try to be open to suggestions from others! Nearly all of the creative work in the chat is collaborative, so input from others is important! Creative criticism is not the same as judgement, and is not a personal attack.

Have fun! - Discussions move quickly in this chat! Don't feel bad if you ever need to step back, whether it's because of the speed or a disinterest in whatever current topic we're focusing on. If you ever want to come back, we're happy to have you and can give quick explanations if you feel out of the loop! :thumbsup:

We’re a group of approx. a half dozen to a dozen people, either posting very very quickly in a span of a few hours or barely anything for a few days. We’ve been in an activity uptick lately and there’s about a year and half of back content, too. If it’s hard to keep up on, not that interesting to read through, or you just have a hard time gelling with the group that's already there, there’s no shame in just lurking or dipping out if you need to.

We also talk a lot about Psychonauts OCs, so anticipate that.

[aros001]

First time reading through the light novels. Vol. 1 random thoughts.

A while back I'd seen the first episode of the anime and...didn't take it well because of that one specific scene. I was interested in where Goblin Slayer and Priestess would go from there but I was worried about my ability to handle the rest of the series. So months later I asked this Reddit if you guys would recommend I continue and you were very supportive and encouraging. I watched the rest and really enjoyed it. I just recently wrapped up another light novel series (at least the books that were available in english) and figured why not give Goblin Slayer's LNs a try?

These are just some random thoughts I had while reading the first volume. I did the same with Rising of the Shield Hero and it was fun to do, with other fans pointing out things I might have missed and starting discussions about what happened each book.

Right off the bat, I think Goblin Slayer is one of the few series I've ever read that brings up weapons getting dulled and damaged by blood and fat (or even bringing up fat from a slain foe at all). Shield Hero had a little bit that early on but most stories just have weapons that are so high quality that the quality never dips.

Also, back in the anime I'd found it interesting that goblins could make poison when everything else about them seemed so crude. But in a general view "poison" is basically a harmful substance that you don't want in your body. That the goblins can make poison out of their own shit and some herbs actually makes sense and works with the idea that they have the mental capacity of cruel children.

The first kill we see Goblin Slayer make seems to say a lot about him. Pinning a goblin to the wall with his shield before stabbing a burning torch into its face. Efficient yet feeling almost vindictive.He kills it in the most painful way he possibly can at that moment.

The Priestess blocked the one goblin with her staff on instinct and kept it from getting away long enough for Goblin Slayer to throw his sword into the back of its head. I'm curious if that's why he let her accompany him through the rest of the cave or if he would have done the same regardless? If he didn't see her potential would he have ordered her to leave instead of asking what she was going to do?

Are the gods of Truth and Illusion meant to be literal gods or just figurative? Either way, I'm looking forward to hearing more about them and the Earth Mother, Dark Gods, and Supreme God. I like mythology and that includes the party's talk about where goblins come from. I like that they, and we the audience, don't yet have a for-fact answer. All the possible origins they share are from legends, folktales, and stories you tell children (with some racial bias thrown in between the elves and dwarves). It really helps the world feel more real and lived in.

Out of curiosity, do Slimes exist in the GS universe? They mention giant rats and goblins as the monsters a lot of beginners take on and slimes are a famous kind of newbie monster in other fantasy stories, so I'm curious if they have those as well (or if it's a Konosuba kind of case where slimes are NOT a monster beginners should be fighting).

Oh jeez, the anime really wasn't exaggerating with Cow Girl flopping over the windowsill. Why is that so funny to me?

“Yes. A group of rookies are in the southern woods. That one is a request from a village near the forest.”

“Beginners,” he murmured. “Who was in their party?”

“Let’s see...,” Guild Girl said. She licked her thumb and began paging through a sheaf of papers. “One warrior, one wizard, and one paladin. All Porcelain rank.”

...

The day after that, showing no hint of fatigue, he joined Priestess in venturing to the southern woods. Cow Girl heard later that the rookies never returned from the forest.

I might be misremembering or thinking of a different group but the rookies came back alive in the anime, didn't they?

A big thing that helped me get through the anime was the introduction of High Elf Archer, Dwarf Shaman, and Lizard Priest. They brought a lot of life both to the series and to Goblin Slayer himself. He's a man who really needs friends and something other than goblins in his life. What he does is important but spending too long in nothing but that darkness would eventually break anyone. In fact, nearly all the characters help bring some enjoyment to the story. I was afraid Spearman was just going to be another Motoyasu but he quickly proved himself to be, overall, a pretty good guy.

I also like that this novel gives more insight into the extra characters. Not just the humans like Guild Girl, Heavy Warrior, and the Hero (which was a very welcome surprise. I want to know more about her), but also some of the goblins as well, like that one guard of the old elf ruins. Even if they can't talk in a way humans can typically understand, it's cool (and a bit uncomfortable) having a direct show of how an individual goblin thinks.

While it's not as much as Priestess, I do really seem to have a soft spot for Guild Girl. Why she seems to like goblin Slayer is just really appealing for me. She likes him because he's different but not in the traditionally tropey way of "Oh, he's so different from the other guys". He takes the jobs that no one else wants to do, not to brag about it or hit on her, but simply because they need to be done, which means a lot less newbie adventurers have died or worse at the hands of goblins, something she's indirectly seen happen way too many times, even if it's a reality she has to live with. Completely unintentionally, he takes a lot of burden off her heart and mind. I can easily see how her respect and appreciation for him would eventually lead into feelings of affection.

Goblin Slayer = Beard-Cutter? I can understand to an extent Orcbolg and that both names come from a goblin killing sword, but do Dwarves refer to goblins as Beards? And if so, why? Or am I missing something here? This confused me in the anime too.

“I owe it all to you, sir!” Her gaze, her beautiful eyes, bored into him. He caught his breath. What should he say? There was a long pause.

“Not at all,” he finally squeaked out. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did so much!” she responded with a grin. “You saved me when we first met.”

“But I couldn’t save your companions.”

“True, but...” Her face stiffened for a moment. She couldn’t quite finish her sentence—understandably.

Even he still remembered the awful scene all too clearly. Warrior, Wizard, Fighter, who had all lost everything. Her party had been trodden into the dust.

I really like this. It's be really easy to just make Goblin Slayer a complete hardass who's oblivious to everything and cold to the world (and to an extent he is). But he does still have emotions other than anger. He's at a loss by Priestess' gratitude and doesn't know what to say. He has regret that he couldn't save her old party. He's used to the sight of what happened but still finds it awful. He appreciates the elf, dwarf, and lizardman's help and isn't against partying with them again, even if he won't go out of his way to join them again. He feels truly helpless when he tells Cow Girl he can't defeat the Goblin Lord's army. As the story goes on I imagine it'll be explored how much he's doing what he does to keep the past from happening again vs. him just wanting revenge on all goblins. Which side rules him more?

But all things must end—often too soon.

The end to his idyll appeared in the form of repulsive black blotches on the dew-drenched morning pastures. Trailing mud and excrement across the fields, they were unmistakable: small footprints.

This is the one part I think the anime did a little better, if for no other reason than that we had a lot more times of Goblin Slayer checking for signs of goblins every morning. It was a great Chekhov's gun. It was something the audience knew had to come back into play later...but that you really, really did not want to because you knew what it'd mean. Every time he checked and didn't find anything was a relief but it left worry about the next time, building up that dread and anticipation, until finally we get that morning where he sees all the tracks.

At a table deep in the room, High Elf Archer made to stand, her face a furious red, but Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest stopped her. Witch sat on a bench, a slippery smile floating on her face. He glanced at the front desk to see Guild Girl vanishing into a back room in a panic. It occurred to him that he was looking for Priestess.

Awwwwwwwwwww! He does like having her around!

I think the main reason the story works, at least for me, is because it isn't just one of those "Life sucks. The world is dark. F**k you." types of "adult" literature. Yes, the world of GS does get very dark and messed up, but what gets you through it are these very likable and sunny characters who do care a lot about each other. At least with the content of this volume and what was covered by the anime, the draw isn't supposed to be how "edgy" the story can get but rather these characters trying to fight back against the darkness that exists in their world.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinSlayer/comments/fq3z9a/first_time_reading_through_the_light_novels_vol_1/

[comfortwriting]

A Walk To Remember - R.W

Ron Weasley x Fem Reader - Part 2/2

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Part 1

Based HEAVILY on the movie: A Walk To Remember.

Warnings: mention of cancer, death, heavy theme of religion and god, blasphemy, fluff, sadness.

“I still can’t believe you kissed her” Hannah laughed, irritating Ron and making Lavender bitter. “You’d think after working so hard on her appearance she’d stick to it”

Ron couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t keep allowing his friends to slander you like this, you were kind, patient and saw light in most darkest places. Ron couldn’t have them beating on someone who had done nothing but go out of her way to help others.

“Shove off, Hannah.” Ron replied “she’s fine the way she is”

Although Ron was blown away by your dolled up look during the performance, he didn’t ponder on it - since that night it didn’t matter how you looked, it didn’t matter if you were covered in makeup or bare faced - you were the most stunning girl he had ever laid eyes on.

He truly felt as if you were the light in his darkness, the hand that was pulling him out of every awful situation he could’ve gotten himself stuck into; it was thanks to you that he had been staying out of trouble.

Seamus scoffed and laughed, pulling a face at Dean. “One kiss and you’re suddenly all into her” Seamus walked over to Ron “she’s changing you and you don’t even realise”

“You don’t know her like I do.” Ron replied “If you did you’d show her some respect.”

After walking away from Ron, you didn’t go back to Hogwarts for the rest of the week. You started to feel more sick, more tired, you didn’t have the energy to walk up the stairs and to stand behind a simmering couldron for hours at a time.

Instead you laid in bed, your dad reading to you and helping you with your work, stroking your hair and praying each and every night for you to be given more time.

By the early evening you had gotten enough energy to sit outside in your rocking chair on the porch, watching the sunset and questioning wether it would be your last.

Ron walked out infront of you and stepped onto your porch, holding a big square box in his hands with an orange ribbon formed into a beautiful bow keeping the lid on.

Ron walked over to you and handed the box to you “I uh, got this for you”

You took the box from him and smirked, pulling apart the ribbon and taking off the lid.

Inside the battered box you were met with multiple hand knitted sweaters, all with the letter ‘R’ on the front, your heart melted and you could feel your cheeks getting red.

You looked up at Ron and smiled, you hadn’t felt this good all week.

“Thank you!” You chose the maroon sweater and pulled it over your head, instantly engulfed in the warmth and beautiful feel of the fabric.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Ron tapped his hand against his pant leg, feeling slightly awkward, his ears reddening.

Your father came outside, his eyes falling on Ron.

“I think it’s best that you get on your way Mr Weasley.” Your father cleared his throat, walking over to you and taking the box off you.

You continued to smile and wave at Ron “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Ron nodded and felt like for the first time in his life he had achieved something worth celebrating, despite the countless things he had achieved before.

“See you then.” He smiled, walking away.

Your father waited for Ron to disappear into the shadows before he helped you out of your chair, taking you to your room he sat the box down at the end of your bed.

“I warned you about him, y/n.” He reminded you.

“Dad it’s just a collection of sweaters, okay?” You tried to remind him, snuggling into your new one that smelled like Ron. “God wants me to be happy, dad. Ron makes me happy.”

Feeling better and stronger than the previous week, you returned to Hogwarts wearing one of Ron’s sweater, keeping you safe from the cold breeze.

Lavender spotted you and instantly ditched her class, storming over to you with her hands in fists.

“Where have you been?” She asked you “I’ve been looking everywhere!”

You stared at her and wondered if she was looking right through you, if she had gotten you confused with someone else but then again she spent every day taunting you so how could she mistake you for someone else?

“I’m sorry? What?”

Lavender’s eyes hovered over your jumper, her eyes burning into the large ‘R’.

“Havent you heard?” She looked saddened, grabbing your hand and pulling you down the halls.

“Heard what? Please just tell me, and slow down.” You panted, trying to slow down.

Bursting into Ron’s common room your face dropped as you caught a glance at what was on the hundreds of sheets of papers were floating around the room, falling swiftly to the floor.

Lavender caught the paper and shoved it in your face, laughing cruelly at you.

“You look rather dashing.”

On the paper was a lude drawing, a caricature of you alongside your God, the very image shattering your innocence and self esteem.

Everyone in the common room burst into laughter, all of them staring at the drawing and back at you, pointing.

Turning around to run away Rom bumped into you, holding you in his arms.

“Ignore it love, I’ll sort them out alright?”

You nodded and stared at the floor, covering your ears with your hands, you closed your eyes and started to collapse in on yourself - all this stress wasn’t good for your health.

Ron stopped the drawings from dancing across the room that mocked you and your faith. Seamus and Dean stopped laughing, Hannah and Lavender’s faces turning sour.

“What’s up with you, mate?” Seamus asked, a holding a drawing in his hand “don’t you like it?”

Ron snatched the drawing from his friend, glaring at him.

“You bumped your head or something?” His tone gruff “do you have any idea how disrespectful this is?”

Seamus shook his head and scoffed, trampling on the drawings as he stepped closer to Ron. “Are you seriously choosing the bible freak over us?”

Ron couldn’t hold back anymore, his anger had been pent up for so long it was spilling out like an over flowing cup of tea.

“I’ve had enough of you, toss pot!” Ron swung for Seamus and almost knocked him through the wall.

Dean got in between the two of them, Seamus filled with rage and sporting a bruise whilst Ron was left with a bruised knuckle.

Ron thought you were worth fighting for, worth everything in his life, but you took a hold of his arm and pulled him back.

“They aren’t worth it, Ron.” You cried “let’s just go”

Ron walked you to your dorm room, holding his hand in yours. The two of you sat on your bed, Ron stroking your hair and calming you down. Ron’s eyes met with yours and felt like millions of fairies were sparkling in your eyes, dancing around in circles.

“Y/N, would you fancy going on a date with me?” 

You smiled, your heart feeling as light as a feather, your life finally looking up after it fell apart two years earlier but that one thing, you secret kept clawing at you, reminding you that you couldn’t go through with it.

“I wish I could, I really want to Ron, more than anything but I’m not allowed” you bowed your head and messed with your hands, lacing and unlacing your fingers. 

“Look, we wont snog or do anything that would be deemed as sinful-”

You shook your head and chuckled at Ron taking your faith into account, feeling so flattered that he didn’t question your beliefs anymore after bashing you for many years of your life.

“It’s not that, it’s my dad, he won’t let me.” 

“I know you dislike me, it’s why I want to ask you, you know, and not go behind your back but - can I have your permission to take Y/N on a date?”

Your father shut down Ron immediately “not a chance”

“I’ve said sorry hundreds of times, Mr Y/L/N.” Ron paced around your living room “You believe faith is important and your daughter does, can’t you have faith in me?” 

“I can’t believe you actually asked my dad!” You beamed, stepping into Madame Puddifoot’s “I can’t believe I’m in here!”

Ron smiled and pulled out a chair for you, feeling his heart skip beats, you feeling comfortable in another one of his sweaters and looking around the room, the stars in your eyes twinkling.

“Well I wasn’t going to go behind his back after you said no, can’t risk getting another Howler from my mum and dad now can I?” Ron smirked, handing you a menu “whatever you want is on me, love.” 

The two of you were drunk on love leaving Madame Puddifoot’s, walking through Hogsmeade, hand in hand and a giggly mess. 

“I’ll never forget how cute you looked in your dress robes at the yule ball” you chirped, pulling Ron into your arms “but I don’t recall seeing you dance that night.” 

Ron cringed “I don’t dance” but he still swayed along with you and held you in his arms. 

“Your list then, what else is on it?” Ron asked, the two of you finally reaching Hogwarts.

“Well, I’d love to be able to see a Niffler in person. I’ve only seen them in my books and the last time Hagrid had them I was sick.” you replied, sneaking off to your dorm.

Ron stopped you, both of you so exhausted but not wanting the night to end. He searched your kind, twinkling eyes, leaning in the two of you kissed, sparks shocking your lips. This wasn’t like the kiss you shared at the theatre, this kiss was the start of something beautiful - something your father warned you about - something Ron promised wouldn’t happen. 

Pulling away from the kiss Ron pursed his lips and blushed “I love you, Y/N.”

You were so afraid of this happening, you didn’t want this to happen whilst you were walking on the path God had put you on, but you didn’t know how long you had left. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t” you replied softly, tears welling in your eyes.

Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Hannah’s eyes stalked you and Ron like a hawk. The two of you finally displaying your love and relationship to everyone around you, you constantly wearing his sweaters, holding his hand, laughing with him and sneaking kisses whenever you had the chance.

“You’re going to love this” Ron smiled, accompanying you to Hagrids Hut.

You felt excited and you couldn’t wait to see what Ron had been hiding, taking the large wooden crate from Hagrid you could hear scratching noises and little breaths.

Opening the box you almost wailed with joy, inside laid a Niffle, holding gold in its hands, looking proud and mischievous.

“Oh Ron! Hagrid!” You beamed, trying to contain the fireworks that were exploding inside of you “Thank you so much, I can’t believe it!”

You held the Niffler in your arms, stroking it gently and loving it as if it were your own. Hagrid and Ron were overjoyed and felt like they could watch you for hours, this had to be one of the happiest days of your life.

After ticking off another box from your list Ron couldn’t help but ask, dying to know what was number one on your list.

You felt slightly embarrassed but you trusted him enough to no longer hide it from him, your no.1 was to get married, to be able to wear your mothers wedding dress and be with her on the happiest day of your life.

But unfortunately, the happy days wouldn’t last forever.

Walking through Hogsmeade you felt your palms get clammy, the nausea inside of you swirl like a tornado, your energy crumbling away once more.

Ron kept talking away about Nifflers, talking about bringing you back to the burrow to meet his family but he stopped when he realised you were miles away.

“Y/N, you alright?” Ron asked, looking concerned “don’t worry, you’re going to pass your N.E.W.Ts”

You stopped outside Honey Dukes and shook your head, pulling Ron aside. “It’s not that”

You felt like your secret was creeping up your stomach, up your oesophagus, threatening to come hurling out of your mouth like vomit.

“Ron, I’m sick.” You revealed, hoping he would catch on.

But the golden haired boy didn’t understand “Want me to take you to Madame Pomfrey?”

You found yourself growing more frustrated “No, Ron. She can’t help me, I.. I’ve got cancer.”

Your secret finally jumped off the top of your tongue, springing off the diving board and landing on Ron’s heart, splitting it into pieces.

Ron felt his whole world spin, your news echoing in your mind, he didn’t want to believe this, he couldn’t.

“What, they’ve made a mistake—“

More tears spilled down your face “I found out a year after the Triwizard Tornament. They gave me two years, they can’t do anything to get rid of it, the treatments aren’t working anymore.”

Ron could feel his heart ache, screaming out for help, for mercy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice shook, choking on tears.

You pursed your lips and tried to swallow the huge lump that formed in your throat.

“Because I didn’t want everyone to treat me differently, to have another reason to stare at me, another reason to talk about me.”

Ron shook his head, feeling cross with himself for everything he had said and done in the past. “But I’m your boyfriend, you should’ve told me!”

“I made you promise you wouldn’t fall in love with me!” You raised your voice, feeling yourself go dizzy for a moment “don’t give me a reason to be angry with God!”

You walked away and ran back to your dads, ready for him to welcome you into his arms, softening the horrible blow the best he could.

Ron hurried, storming into the common room, doing something he thought he wouldn’t ever do again. He searched for Harry.

Ron found Harry in his dorm room, Harry put down his book and stared at the lad who was once his best friend.

“You’ve got to get Dumbledore to help her, Harry.” Ron panicked, pacing around the room.

“Help who? Ron what’s happened?”

Ron wiped away more falling tears with the back of his sleeve “Y/N is dying of cancer, Harry we’ve got to help her—“

“There’s nothing he can do Ron, you can’t put a stopper in death when it comes to this, you already know this Ron.”

Ron felt even more enraged and stormed out, cursing Harry, telling him it was a waste of time even trying to make amends.

Like clockwork, as soon as you told Ron the truth, you started to deteriorate. You couldn’t complete your classes anymore and you were forced to drop out of Hogwarts, you were staying at your dads in Hogsmeade permanently now and all you did was sleep.

When you weren’t sleeping, you were throwing up, struggling to look after yourself, you didn’t even have enough energy to pick up your bible and read it.

The days didn’t stand out to you anymore, they sort of just blurred into one - the only comfort you got was when you saw Ron’s angelic face smiling at you each time you closed your eyes to doze off.

The news of your illness spread through out Hogwarts and Ron found himself with more love and support than he thought was possible. Dean and Seamus sat with him outside in the stands whilst the Quidditch pitch was empty, the two of them promising Ron they would help him no matter what and that they were so sorry to hear the news.

Hannah also apologised to Ron and offered her support, going as far as telling him that he looked the happiest he had ever been when he was with you, that you brought out a part of him that no one had ever seen before, the part that only Harry and Hermione had seen.

Lavender took her time but finally reached out to her ex, putting her bitterness and jealousy behind her. Lavender hugged Ron and poured her heart out to him, expressing how sorry she was, how neither of you deserved such a thing. In her hands she held onto the photos she had taken on the night of the performance, handing them to Ron, she urged him to see you and walked away.

Turning up with flowers and handfuls of ‘get well soon’ cards, Ron was greeted by your father on your porch.

“I know you don’t want me here but tell her I’m not leaving her, I never will.”

Your father smiled and instead of turning Ron away, he welcomed him inside and allowing him to come and see you.

“How are you not angry at God?” Ron asked, the two of you cuddling in your bed, surrounded by poems and bible verses about having strength and keeping faith in the lord.

You sighed and looked into his gorgeous eyes “I accepted that Gods plan for me is bigger than the plan of my own.” You replied “you were sent to me for a reason, Ron. You’re my angel.”

Ron stroked your cheek with his thumb, planting a kiss on your nose, instantly remembering why he fell in love with you - you were accepting, you were patient, you couldn’t feel hatred towards anyone, you were the most purest person he had ever met.

“Are you scared?” Ron asked, not wanting to imagine a life where you did not exist.

“I’m scared of not being with you.” You replied, snuggling into his chest, tracing circles into his chest.

Ron knew that this moment was the right moment, it was either now or never.

Pulling away from the cuddle, Ron climbed out of your bed and dived into his back pocket, pulling out a little white box.

Pulling the box open, he got on one knee and looked up at you as you peered over the bed, your eyes twinkling at the beautiful ring that was waiting eagerly for you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He asked through tears.

You stared at the beautiful ring and looked back into Ron’s eyes, you nodded your head.

“Yes.”

As the wedding got closer and closer, you became more sick. You lost lots of weight and you could no longer eat solid food without being sick, you could only suck on sweets that dissolved into your mouth - but even then you would bring up bile.

But no matter how bad you got, Ron stayed by your side, he helped you you feel as good as you possibly could do in your condition. He sang to you, he read to you, he even started praying at night with you.

After going out shopping to help your dad get everything he needed for the wedding, Ron walked into your bedroom to find Dumbledore and Harry sitting beside your bed, the two of them talking to you and telling you to take the medicine they had given you to help you hold on for your special day.

Ron stopped in the door way, his jaw dropping to the floor. Dumbledore nodded at Harry, encouraging him to go and talk to Ron, the two of them taking leaving you and Dumbledore for a moment on your own.

Ron couldn’t speak, he didn’t care to either. Instead, he pulled Harry into a tight and desperate hug, almost squeezing the life out of him. His head resting on Harry’s shoulder, his tears sinking into his shirt.

“Thank you, Harry - thank you.”

Harry held Ron and patted his back, promising him that no matter what, everything would be okay in the end.

As much as your love for Ron grew, you still wasn’t getting any better, but the potion Dumbledore gave you ensured that you were finally able to achieve the most important part of your list, the one thing you never thought was possible.

On one side, your family and friends surrounded the hall and Ron’s on the other. Everyone attending the wedding was so excited yet couldn’t help but feel nothing but sorrow for you.

Gripping onto your fathers arm, the music began to play as he walked you down the isle and although your mother wasn’t there physically - you could feel her presence around you, you had part of her clinging onto you - wearing her beautiful sleeveless lace white dress.

Reaching the altar, you blushed seeing Ron in another set of dress robes - this was the Ron you knew, the Ron you were once so desperate to find.

Whilst repeating your vows out loud, the amazing memories the two of you shared flickered in your mind, the first time you both met, your first class together, your first kiss, spending hours talking outside on the porch, all of these memories you were so lucky to remember until the end of your days.

“I do.”

“I do.”

Sealing your eternal love with a kiss, you could finally tick box number one off your list.

Ron took you by the hand and led you over to the dance floor.

“But I thought you said you didn’t dance?” You smirked, trying not to get your hopes up.

Ron laughed and looked over at Neville “I got lessons from a familiar bloke, he’s quite a good dancer.”

You shook your head and couldn’t stop laughing, accepting Ron’s offer for a dance.

“Love is like the wind, you can't see it but you can feel it.” Ron reminded himself, holding back tears and tightening his grip on your bouquet of sunflowers.

One month after the wedding, you began your journey God had set out for you, leaving Ron behind for a moment that would feel like only a minute for you but a lifetime for him.

But that month was full of love, laughter and happiness that the two of you wouldn’t change for the world.

Ron walked over to your place of rest, putting down the sunflowers and rubbing your headstone.

He opened up one of your books you had given him, full of the bible verses he once couldn’t bear to hear, the love poems he refused to read, and snippets from the script the two of you had spent hours learning together.

He looked down at his wedding ring and smiled, looking back on the page in your book.

“Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous.

Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish.

It does not take offense and is not resentful.

Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins, but delights in the truth.

It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.”

He read out, pulling out the photos Lavender had taken of the two of you, watching you and himself perform on stage, wishing he could go back and do it all again.

Taglist: @reeophidian , @amourtentiaa

[mrs-dynamight]

Be Nice To Me 4

Part 3

*************************************************

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!Reader, Denki Kaminari x fem!Reader

Warnings: Eventual mature content, angst, hurt/comfort, love triangle, the reader is lowkey toxic, everything will be adressed in every episode (:

Chapter warning: Just a single curse word.

Chapter: 4/? I'm sorry, this is going to be long :c but I just loooove writing it

Synopsis: You're in love with your best friend Bakugou, and you're cofessing to him but things get a lot more complicated when Denki starts to treat you different *wink wink*

Word count: 1.6k

Author's note: This is a little bit shorter, but it's pure fluff, and the next one is going to be so long they will compensate eachother, hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 4 Bloom- The Paper Kites

I was floating in cloud nine, everything I have ever dreamt of suddenly became true, there he was, the boy of my dreams liking me back, what else could’ve I asked for? Maybe a little more time together before he’s gone.

The doubts in my heart were getting more difficult to ignore with every passing minute, we came back to the dorms like two hours ago but I was incapable of going to bed, let alone trying to sleep, there was so much to think about, were we a couple? I’ve never had a boyfriend, I don’t know how these things are supposed to work, we like each other, that’s all that it takes right? A long-distance relationship? I’ve heard that those never work, or should we wait for him to come back to make it official? Aren’t we already official? We’ve kissed, like a lot, there was even some tongue; ugh those thoughts made me feel so embarrassed.

The light of my home screen lightly illuminated the room, and with my blushed cheeks I went to check who was messaging me, it was Kaminari, I opened the text that reads “R u awake? I had a nightmare and I really could use a hug from my bestie rn” followed by five crying emojis; “See you in the place” said my reply, the place was this empty service room in the rooftop of the dorms, nobody ever used it for anything so it is completely empty, we made a copy of the key one day that we had to clean the entire dorms because a certain yellow-haired guy decide to play “potions” in chemistry class, and since then it’s been our hiding place, it had everything that we needed, a lot of junk food, fairy lights, a portable speaker, blankets and an Opossum holding a cigarette poster in one wall; whenever one of us needed a break from the outside world we came here, this is our safe space.

I opened the door to the place and saw Denki standing there, he looked so tiny and vulnerable, I hugged him instantly, the dim fairy lights in the opossum wall made his facial features even prettier, it was obvious he had been crying, I didn’t asked any question and he didn’t said anything, we just hugged for what it seemed like hours, with a heavy sight he pulled apart and give me smile

-Thanks Y/N I really needed that- Said Denki with his hand in my cheek and his eyes fixed in some point between us

-They’re back, aren’t they? - I asked with concern

He nodded and lied in one of our blankets in the floor, I did the same, we both were looking at the glow in the dark stars glued to the celling not saying a single word, he held my hand and started to cry

-Why do they keep coming back? I don’t wanna be afraid anymore- I knew exactly what he meant, he had a recurrent nightmare, a big fight against villains, every one of us dying in awful ways, he is always the last one to die, and before that there is always someone telling him that he is the weakest of us, that this was all his fault for not being enough.

-Your mind is playing tricks on you, you are not weak, I know I’ve told you that a gazillion times, but I’m willing to do it a million more, all the times you need it, I’m here, we are all safe and sound, you have nothing to worry about- Anytime the nightmares come back I make sure Denki knows he’s just as strong as any of our other classmates, that he’s smart and capable of being a great hero.

-I want to be able to protect you, I don’t want you to die- Said Denki facing me and locking his eyes with my own.

-I promise you, I’m not going to die in the hands of a villain, I’m going to die being the coolest grandma in the neighbourhood, doing a sick backflip and daring Satan himself to come for my soul- I said to make Denki laugh, and apparently it worked

-You’re my best friend Y/N, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here, please never stop being like that-

-Being how? -

-I don’t know, funny, smart, a real pain in the ass to the villains and the teachers, a stubborn whiney stuff-

-Are you sure you aren’t describing yourself? –

-Nah, I didn’t said the most handsome man who ever walked the earth, but you’re not bad looking-

We both laughed, I really enjoyed being around Denki, his presence always felt comforting, like coming back home after a long trip, or eating your favourite homemade dish after a rough day, like a cool late summer breeze, he makes my heart warm and my troubles go away, I never feel more like myself than when I’m around him. That’s what friendship feels like, right?

-Could you do me one last favour Y/N? – Denkis voice took me out of my own mind -I don’t want to go back to my room and have another nightmare, I don’t wanna make you unconformable or anything, but could I sleep with you? -

It definitely took me by surprise, we had a lot of sleepovers over the years, but never just the two of us

-I understand if you say no, but I promise I just want to sleep, and having you around makes me feel safe-

-I have an idea, let’s have a sleepover here in the place, I’ll put one of those white noise videos that last hours, so you don’t have to think about anything-

-I’ll set the alarm to get up early and go to our dorms before anyone sees us, thank you so much Y/N, I’ll make it up to you, I promise-

-You don’t have to; I know you’ll do the same for me-

-You’re an angel but with no wings-

-So, like a person? –

-Shut up Aubrey Plaza-

We were both lying in the blankets on the floor, our heads at the same level (look at the reference above) and I was slowly falling asleep, all I could hear was the white noise and Denkis soft breathing, I closed my eyes and just before I completely lost my consciousness and succumb to the tiredness of my body I heard it, Denkis soft voice, “I love you Y/N”. I turned my head to look at him with my heart racing miles, but he was deeply asleep. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing, it probably was my tired mind, I took one last look to the boy next to me, sleeping so peacefully and with a little smile in his lips feeling the same familiar warmth in my soul, is this really what friendship feels like?

The alarm went off exactly at 5 am, I woke up and it took me a moment to realize that I wasn’t in my dorm room, then I remembered Denkis nightmare, our sleepover, and that thing I thought I heard. I had to wake Denki up so we could go to our respective rooms without Aizawa founding out we were out of our rooms at night, or even worse that we had the keys of the place. I sat there and moved Denki to wake him up. He opened one eye and whined

-But moooooom, it’s Saturday, I don’t have to go to school-

-Come on Denki we have to go to our rooms-

-Five more minutes- He said and hugged my leg

-Do you want Iida to found out we didn’t sleep in our rooms and telling Aizawa? -

And just like that he got up and started heading to the door

-Shit, you’re right, come on, you know that guy wakes up hella early-

We were in the stairs heading to our rooms, and although we were on Denkis floor, he kept climbing down the stairs with me.

-You don’t have to escort me to my room Denki-

-Oh but I want to- Replied the yellow haired guy

When we were in front of my door he leaned down and planted a chaste kiss in my forehead.

-Thank you for being there for me, I will remember this night for the rest of my life- And he turned around without waiting for a response disappeared heading towards the stairs.

I stepped into my room with a heavy cloud around my mind, there was so many feelings inside me that I couldn’t even tell them apart, where do I draw the line between friendship and love? Between admiration and affection? Between what I feel for Bakugo and what I feel for Denki?

I closed my eyes and remembered everything that happened yesterday, Bakugos confession, our shared kisses, the promise we made, six months apart now sounded a lot more crucial, after all the things that could happen in the matter of a few hours. Did I just said that because the heat of the moment? The words Bakugo said to me sounded so mature and logical, not like my own thoughts right now, am I just a slave of my own feelings? How would he react if he were me? What about Denki? Was he aware of all those years after his friend? And what if he knew and that is the reason why he hasn’t told me anything yet? Maybe I was just overthinking the situation, nothing was written in stone, neither my relationship with Katsuki nor Denkis feelings for me. I was getting tired of my own thoughts running in circles and not coming to an end, so I wrapped myself in the sheets of my bed and prayed for my mind to shut down so I could get some rest.

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Part 5

Heeeey I just wanted to thank all of you who read my work, LY, the next few chapters will be like an episode of skins UK, soo be warned, also there is going to be some thirst but nothing too explicit because I'm a shy motherfucker. Enjoy the last chapter free from Mrs-Dynamight Drama™

Taglist: @mikasalt

[reversecreek]

struts onto the dash carrying this deliriously wriggling little elf in my arms like a swaddled bebe......... they’re genuinely my oldest muse of all time i think i created them when i was like. 13 possibly. n i haven’t written them in Years but. i’m literally so excited to jst vibrating w muse. smiles at u all demurely..... they have risen. u can find their pinterest here n their playlist here.

* alana champion, nonbinary + they/them | you know nyla palmer, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 6669 (i don’t know if you know) by neon indian like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole a two headed doll of a prairie girl with stitched on rabbit ears and butterfly wings, befriending shadow puppets & finding god with your eyes open underwater in a public pool you broke into thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 2nd, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

was born in georgiaaaa georgiaaaa (phoebe bridgers voice holds my bang...) to a vry honest hard working man named george (omgggg he’s called GEORGE and he’s from GEORGIA? ahaaaaa fuckk ur jestinggg) nd a woman who did her best named pamela..... george worked on a construction site n pamela was a pharmacist..... their house was this small rickety white thing with a wrap around porch n a very rabid overgrown garden tht kind of looked like the earth ws trying to reclaim it bc nobody ever hd the time or motivation to mow the lawn.... there ws literally a piece of fold out furniture just entirely submerged by weeds n foliage

nyla ws always closest w their dad george..... he hd this way of looking at the world tht was seeing the best in all of it.... he took them on long walks where he talked abt how u have to respect the trees bc they’re breathing fr us n we’re breathing fr them..... he hd a strange whimsical sense of humour n a gnome alter ego called grundlebolt who always tickled them..... in a way this closeness created a distance between nyla n their mother but not so much that it ws rly a problem. just enough tht nyla sometimes waited until their mother ws out of eye n ear shot to tell their dad they loved him bc they didn’t wna make her sad >_>

(mental health, death & grief tw) pamela always struggled w her mental health but george ws great n understanding n knew how to help her thru this... nyla didn’t get it too greatly at a very young age bt they knew their mum got “the sads” sometimes (how their dad wld explain tht she needed to lay down in the quiet for a while or why she’d stood at the stove n let the dinner burn until the smoke detector went off without doing anything abt it). when nyla was 14 they got home one day to a police car in the driveway n came prancing in exuberantly as they always did. immediately hugged the legs of an officer bc this is hw they wld greet everyone they ever met. they only realised something was wrong when they let go n saw their mum sat at the table crying. essentially there ws an accident at the construction site george worked at n :/ yeah. 

(jst mental health & grief tw now) this rly had an intense ripple effect on everyone tbh. pamela’s mental health deteriorated quite a lot without george there as her rock n nyla sort of had to step in as best they cld but it was....... hard. some days she ws better bt some days nyla had to sit her in the bath n stroke a wet sponge over her back bc they didn’t know how else to calm her down. nyla always had a very overactive imagination which george encouraged bt it ws like. losing him rly opened a window in nyla’s head n all rationality went floating out of it. their dreams seemed more real than being awake. fantasy wasn’t jst the way they coped bt it was the way they thought n the way they saw. everything on earth was alive. the trees n the clouds n the wall with a brick missing at the bottom of her road n especially their dad. their dad was alive in everything in nyla’s head. the sun shining extra bright in the morning was george. ponds were a veil they could dunk her head under and find george waiting on the other side. reality rly just pulled the plug n said bye tbh n they were ok w that <3

(abuse implied tw) their mum remarried too fast to a man named stephen n it was jst not a good arrangement. he was Not a nice man. i won’t go into this but home wasn’t a nice place for nyla any more n after a couple of yrs stephen wound up asking them to leave n their mum said nothing to contradict tht. there’s more to this bt long story short nyla left <3

(drugs tw) they couch surfed fr a while before settling living w their best friend. they got up to like... all sorts of trouble n grew up far too fast. nyla’s lack of sense n realism hd a habit of getting them into some sticky situations n these few yrs were a rollercoaster where they got by on the skin of their teeth. when they think of high skl they think of gravel and skinned knees and sucking sherbet dunkers to ignore the taste of pennies in ur mouth and getting lost in the woods a lot bc they’d take FAR too many drugs n be lead astray having conversations with kind trees whose branches held their hands

(drug mention) got by on odd jobs like making candles n selling them at market stalls. leaf blowing at cemeteries. face painting fr children’s parties (where they were blatantly high). random stuff. all over the place. in this time them n their best friend also hd a sugar daddy named tony who always wore very impressive colour block suits n mink stoles n jewelled fedoras n hd a swanky apartment w marble floors. rly just. surreal. lots of strange stories frm this time.

things kind of blew up in their friendship group n they fell out w their best friend raya bc she slept w this guy aj who nyla hd been madly in love w for yrs.... he was a Stinker n honestly so ws their best friend so good riddance i say bt obviously it felt like having their entire world flipped upside dwn fr nyla.... they split after this came out bc they just did Not want to b around these ppl any more n they decided to leave w this guy frm a band they barely knew tht much save fr a one night stand to tour w them..... this ws another whirlwind. jst chock full of them. it ws similar to being on a teacup ride at a carnival n spinning round n round n only knowing u were surrounded by lots of lights. tht’s how they’d best describe their time on tour.

SO in terms of them coming to irving 8 months ago they came w the band.... they honestly did pretty well on tour n wound up renting a big beach house on dorado as a kind of “retreat” sort of place fr them to shack up in while they worked on writing and recording their first big studio album (they gt signed w a label so it’s all vry exciting stuff). nyla among like 3 others were allowed to stay w them too bc they hd a lot of fun on tour. literally jst. taken on as professional groupies essentially. nyla loved it bc they’d never seen the ocean n when they first got there they jst threw off all their clothes n ran straight into the water. it was 3pm on a tuesday afternoon. they got arrested fr public indecency n didn’t get why bc they were like but i just wanted to hug the ocean u silly little oinker? i picture the beach house as like. the loudest one on dorado.... comes alive like a jungle at night..... they r probably bad neighbours. anyway. onto personality puts hand on hip.

PERSONALITY:

sets out patio furniture on someone else’s lawn n jst takes a seat n leans back like ahhhhh vat a nice day to be alive ya! (swedish accent suddenly bc they think it’s fun). they come out n start yelling n they’re jst so confused they’re like hey wat’s the big idea hey wat’s go on here why u angies why this happen?

likes drawing imaginary veins over their arms in all different colour blue pens in a sudden fit of hyperfixation n then forgets all abt it n goes out like tht n scares several townsfolk bt they’re oblivious they’re jst in her own world loving life already onto the next fixation. has many many different fads like this. one day will jst start snipping up a bunch of magazines bc they’re like EYES ARE COOL N THEY SEE EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :P n they’ll stick a bunch of them over their wall n then forget they was doing that n leap onto the next. quite a pattern. bt they love the vein thing a lot it makes them feel like a walking planetarium like they have their own constellations

sometimes jst doesn’t make sense. they’re honestly kind of strange. pops up in places like they suddenly materialised there n it’s like how did u get there where have u been when were u last seen are u ok. has the energy of an ancient deity frm deep in a mountain cave n an ambiguous forest sprite all at once..... talks shit honestly. abt anything n everything. sometimes outrageous. sometimes plain incoherent. like what are u talking about? i dnt kno. even i dnt kno sometimes.

luvs stick n pokes will let anyone tattoo whatever they want on them for the price of a gummy bear kindly placed onto their tongue n swallowed whole

has this obsession w being underwater w their eyes open luvs it. calls it their tadpole time. runs baths just to lie there blinking looking around n drifting her arms. best friends w the bottom of any local swimming pool n hs probably given it a quick kiss so it knows they’re bff’s n then got sick bc there’s sm germs in a public pool. says the kgb probably poisoned their oatmeal n r finally here to deliver on their promise n THAT’S why they got sick unrelated to the pool incident. what promise? noone knows.

unclear if they believe what they say or if they jst has a very expanded sense of humour where they nvr let on if they’re joking.... lines r blurred a lot..... 

loves excitedly shouting things. sometimes just screams at the sky bc they say it’s good to let the creatures in ur belly fly out every once in a while otherwise their wings get sore.

(drugs tw) still does an excessive amt of hallucinogens n it kind of shows. very bad fr their brain bt we’re going to ignore it.

dresses fun n strange n eccentric n careless. loves to experiment. does nt care abt what’s considered to be societally appropriate. living in their own world.

sleeps around a lot... jst doesn’t rly see sex as a big deal.... very free w themselves in that way..... sometimes greets their friends w a kiss on the lips they’re like awww :) kisses <3 when they run into them in the middle of the cereal aisle n then pulls away n suddenly breaks into a box tht has a free toy in it bc it’s a banana with googly eyes n that’s the best thing they’ve ever heard in their LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! n isn’t he so HANDSOME????? enchante indeed my good sir ;)... gives the toy a kiss too.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

other groupies of the band: self explanatory a little.... i dnt have a name for the band yet bt all can b worked out..... i picture them as kind of. not that nice but like. there for a good time........ rock genre.... bit chaotic...... to say the least........ they dnt have to have come there w the band like nyla n the others they cld have been adopted in their time there.... whoever wld b wild n down fr a good time <3

chaotic trash goblin friends: idk what this title rly means it just came to me in a vision....... jst ppl tht r rly kind of off the rails n don’t care abt anything...... they r who nyla tends to mesh very well w......... they rly r living in their own world n by their own rules n they like ppl who do this too <3 inevitably they get up to no good n party far too much...... cld be angst to this if they enable each other’s bad habits...... world’s our oyster. opens my office door. let’s talk abt it.

nyla set up camp on their front lawn: maybe jst w a fold out chair. maybe w a literal pop up tent w someone else too. genuinely so bizarre of them bt that’s what we’re dealing with. they poke their head into the tent n nyla’s lying down crunching on a cracker crumbs over their tits n they just hold it out to them nt even fully consumed n are like hey polly want a cracker? :)

they responded to her craigslist ad: they posted one saying they cld cleanse their house of demonic energy bc they’re an all seeing eye in touch w the spirits. this is a lie. they came n waved sage around n did a little dance as they did it w bird sounds playing on a special cd they brought fr the occasion (had weird indistinct doodles over the case it ws brought in) n then ws like OOH! scary.... n jumped at something in the hall. they go in thinking maybe they’ve seen a ghost bt they just were startled by their own reflection in a mirror n is like. scary mirror placement...... might wna reconsider that........ they charge them merely 10 dollars fr their time n is like this was so fun we shd do it again some time :) also i think u have mould on ur bathroom tile! vanishes. they dnt recall them ever going to the bathroom.

came knocking asking for items for a garage sale: yes. u heard that right. they’re asking for ur muses things to set up their own garage sale. selling items that do not belong to them. they think this is a genius business strategy n don’t understand why ppl think this is so strange or why they cant just ask ppl to donate them things to sell bc hey they’re an entrepreneur? they even had a pencil behind their ear when they knocked on the door so why aren’t ppl taking their business seriously? probably got distracted several times trying to explain their pitch n chattered abt random other things instead.

honestly anything... fwbs... flings... good influence... someone who cnt stand the fact they’re barely coherent.... someone they stopped on the street one day n asked for their opinion on water beds.... we cn do literally anything. fling ur chara my way n we can talk.

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Two

Summary: The young prince meets a servant girl called Nouke. The two become best friends, spending many days in the West Garden. As Ahkmenrah grows older, he learns that he must sacrifice his time with his friend to learn the lessons his father has to teach him. Responsibilities shift and Ahk and Nouke’s friendship is tested.

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 5939   

Warnings: none      

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: I’m so SO glad y’all are enjoying this so far! Thanks a million for the likes, the reblogs, the comments and the gif responses! They make me smile!! 🥰 Again, as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

In the westernmost part of the palace was a garden, small in comparison to the grand courtyards were the king and queen hosted festivals throughout the year, but lusher and inherently more magical by far. On every side, the green paradise was surrounded by sturdy walls of sand-colored stone, apart from the open corridor that led back into the palace. The majority of those protective walls sat hidden by abundant foliage; lilies and shrubs and trees that fostered the illusion of no barriers at all.

At the center of the garden was a fountain with wide ledges perfect to sit and marvel at the prisms that danced across the surface of the water where lily pads floated. The air was always fragrant. Jasmine and lotus bloomed in abundance; their sweet perfume coupled with the fresh air created a welcomed reprieve from the scent of torch fire and papyrus that permeated the palace corridors. Beds of grass grew between the footstones and pathways while large palm trees sprung from the earth; their fanned leaves offering shade for the hottest afternoons. Within those walls, amid the green and vibrant blossoms, Shepseheret watched each of her children grow and play for many years.

That glittering, private oasis- nestled in a palace of gold, was Ahkmenrah’s favorite place in the world. Fore in that garden everything was soft and whimsical unlike the stone walls he called home. And in the shining green gem of a garden, the young prince met Anuksamun.

She was his age, with long wavy hair and skin a tone or two darker than his own. Her eyes were brown, but they sparkled like amber in the sunlight--not that Ahkmenrah paid much attention to such things at the age of six. It wasn't for many years that those flakes of gold would make his heart flutter.

Anuksamun was the daughter of Maketaten: the queen’s maidservant and dear friend. Her father, Ramentukah was a soldier in the pharaoh’s army. The three of them lived humbly in the palace with many of the other servants--happy for the shelter the king and queen provided in return for their service and loyalty. It never occurred to Ahkmenrah that he was (as some would claim) better than his friend; all he knew was that she loved the West Garden just as much as he did.

Every evening, Ahkmenrah would gleefully follow his mother and baby sister to the garden, excited to see his friend. The queen and her maidservant would lounge in one of the patches of grass or on the edge of the fountain watching their children play; ducking in and out of the foliage or splashing in the cool waters of the central pool when the desert heat was significantly stifling.

Ahkmenrah never felt like a prince when he was chasing after his friend, giggling as the fresh air swept through his curls as he ran. She only ever called him “Ahk”; never once did she speak of him with the title of “my prince” like so many others. He loved that shortened version of his name. Every time she called for him; it made him smile, and in return, he called her Nouke--a name that found her smiling back at him just as widely.

While the sun was high overhead, Ahkmenrah was with his father, learning what it meant to rule a vast empire. Those mornings and afternoons never lent the same joy he found in the evenings with Nouke in the garden. Nevertheless, the prince cherished the teachings his father gifted unto him. He felt a sense of pride when he stood at his father’s side during civil meetings in the throne room and council meetings. Every aspect was enthralling for his young mind.

The older Ahkmenrah grew, the more he understood and admired the way his father ruled. Merenkahre was firm when he had to be but often kind when the circumstances could warrant gentleness. The respect he bestowed upon his subjects and advisors never went unreciprocated, and Ahkmenrah noted it all; filing it away safely in his mind, so he could remember in the future. He yearned to show the same devotion and compassion to the people of Egypt when it was his turn to wear the crown. The prince learned quickly and eagerly.

No matter how old he grew, or how long his lessons would take, Ahkmenrah would always return to the West Garden. The moment his father’s teaching would come to a close, the prince would thank him for his wisdom and guidance then run through the halls until he was encompassed in the magic of the lush green, and reunited with his favorite person in all the palace.

Since meeting Nouke, Ahkmenrah always missed her. Her spirit matched his own: that unwavering need for adventure. Nouke was warm like the sun but always changing like the moon; she constantly kept him guessing, and it thrilled him. Every game was her idea, and Ahkmenrah never failed to follow her lead- whatever it may be. The whole of his childhood was written within the limits of that garden, and when he was with Nouke, he wasn’t a prince of Egypt--shackled from birth to his duty. He was just Ahk; no more, no less.

For six years that was the routine Ahkmenrah was used to: days with his father and evenings with his friend. However, as they got older, a piece of him came to realize that before long, their adventures in the serenity of the garden would come to an end. By the time he was twelve, most of his lessons ate into the hours the prince was used to spending with Nouke. It made him sad to think of her alone in their garden with no one to keep her company, but a large part of him understood how important it was to learn his father’s trade. He could only hope that she understood too.

It was exceptionally hot the afternoon Ahkmenrah followed his father out of the palace and into the training yards located on the grounds. He’d often heard his brother speak of the open field where the pharaoh’s soldiers trained along with the Medjay. It was a new sight and Ahkmenrah’s hunger for adventure lent him attentive eyes. Men and boys, most around his age, were practicing with all manners of weapons; spears, bows, and the khopesh. Ahkmenrah watched them all, wondering why his father had brought him to such a place.

“Three times a week, we will be meeting here so that you may learn to defend yourself,” his father noted as though he had heard his son’s thoughts.

Merenkahre stopped a good distance away from the other sparing soldiers and turned to face his son. Kamuzu stood at his side, holding the same stoic expression that Ahkmenrah could never really make heads or tails of. The Medjay deftly removed the khopesh from its place on his hip and offered it wordlessly to the prince. Ahkmenrah’s brows furrowed and he blinked at the curved blade apprehensively, confused as to how this lesson applied to being king.

“Take it,” his father encouraged, easily drawing his own matching weapon. “Test its weight.”

Ahkmenrah bit his lip, eyeing the khopesh wearily a moment more before obeying. A gasp escaped his lungs in mild shock when the heavy weapon fell from his hands, and into the dirt--it was much heavier than he had thought. Quickly, he retrieved the blade and held it with a firm, two-handed grip, looking sheepishly back to his father. The ghost of a smile played around Merenkahre’s lips, which put Ahkmenrah more at ease.

“Test its weight,” he said again, slowly gliding his own blade through the air with one hand.

Ahkmenrah mimicked the movements as best he could; the weapons cumbersome weight almost too difficult for him to manage properly.

“Very good,” Merenkahre grinned.

“Am I going to learn everything as Kahmunrah has?” Ahkmenrah asked, suddenly more interested to learn.

His older brother only liked weapons and fighting; he found no beauty in gardens or shared the young princes' sense of adventure. Thus, Ahkmenrah knew; Kah never wanted to be the big brother he wanted. But if he learned to fight, maybe he would like him more--the prince hoped so anyway.

A slight frown tinted the pharaoh’s expression, but he quickly hid it. “To a degree, I will teach you bow and spear and khopesh until you are comfortable enough with each.”

“Oh,” Ahk said, slightly disappointed. Kah only liked people who were as skilled as he was. “Okay.”

Ahkmenrah followed his father’s guidance, swinging the blade how he was instructed in repetitive motions, each one faster than the last until the weapon no longer felt so clumsy in his hands.

It was weeks before he was truly at ease with any kind of weapon in his hand. Still, he knew he would never harbor the same joy his brother seemed to when it came to such things.

“Am I going to learn how to strategize war next?” Ahkmenrah asked idly after a long day in the training yard.

His muscles ached as he walked back to the palace alongside his father and Kamuzu. Merenkahre didn’t answer right away, taking his time to think as his features grew pensive, causing Ahkmenrah to wonder what it was about his question that warranted such careful study.

“Your Consul of Montu will be responsible for such dealings,” Merenkahre decided, finally. “You must trust his word, should a time ever come that you need such knowledge."

That made sense, but Ahkmenrah pressed anyway, “but didn’t you know how to--”

“I learned because my father needed men to fight in wars he wanted no part of,” Meren explained sternly. “Do you plan to seek out war during your reign?”

Ahkmenrah shook his head, folding under his father’s unusually intense gaze, “No.”

“Then what you have learned will suffice,” the pharaoh’s expression lightened as they neared the palace. “We are done for today. Your mother tells me you are missing a friend of yours--go.”

Ahkmenrah’s face lit up, all previous thought of war and fighting long behind him. He quickly thanked his father and took off running.

The sun had only begun to sink into the distant horizon when Ahkmenrah made it to his favorite garden. He'd only stopped on his journey long enough to scrounge up a snack that he could share. As a servant, Nouke and her family were given small rations and often went hungry--a thought the prince hated. It only took her offhandedly mentioning she’d gone without one day for Ahkmenrah to make a habit of bringing something from his own, abundant supply. She had refused the first time, too proud it seemed to want his help; it was only when he offered to share that Nouke would accept his offerings. He would purposely eat slower, letting her take as much as she needed, and he would smile; happy to have helped his friend.

Nouke sat on the edge of the shallow pool; her dark hair pulled into a loose braid- the slightly darker tan pigment of her skin glowing in Ra’ s golden rays. Her face was turned away, eyes fixated on the lily pad she glided over the water's surface in absent motions. Even from a distance, and without the benefit of seeing her face, Ahkmenrah could tell a sadness had taken root in her. Something even the magic of their treasured garden could not properly deter. How long had it been since he had seen her? Days? Weeks? Much too long.

Her somber aura shifted however when Nouke caught sight of him with an idle glance. A gasp sounded on a quick inhale when her eyes met his--the lily pad forgotten. All of the gloom that had been constricting her spirit no longer bound her. She dazzled him with a smile that matched the sparkle in her eyes, and when she ran to greet him, she did so on fumbling feet, excitement quickening her gait to nearly a fault. Catching the blunder painted a grin onto the prince's lips as his pace hastened too, eager to be near her.

“Ahk!” Nouke’s honey-sweet tone was like a song to his ears after weeks of nothing but his father’s gruff voice in his head. 

The sound alone was enough to pull his smile tighter and prompt his heart to beat more fervently (for whatever reason). Unceremoniously, she threw her arms around his shoulders, enveloping him with a friendly embrace, with sufficient force to almost send Ahkmenrah stumbling backward.

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten me.”

“Never,” he assured her, returning her hug with just as much warmth.

She was smiling even brighter than before when they pulled apart, her eyes meeting his gladly.

“Sorry I’ve been away so long,” Ahk said, brandishing a peace offering: a linen-wrapped bundle of fresh dates and figs to share.

She glanced at the proffered fruit, then back to him with silent rejoice before tugging him by the arm across the garden to one of the shady patches of grass. She gave his arm another yank, tugging him down to sit beside her.  The cool patch of grass was a welcome contrast to the hours he spent under the sun in the training yard. He sat with his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands relishing in the soft textures and the company of his friend. Nouke waited patiently for him to pass her a portion of the food he had brought--like usual--and together they ate in content silence.

“I missed you,” Nouke said suddenly, in a rather sheepish tone that was unbefitting of her usual ebullient demeanor.

When the prince chanced to meet her gaze, he found she had spoken more to her food than to him, still, he smiled. He was so used to her exuberance, but he liked this timorous side of her as well.

“I missed you too,” Ahk said, sliding her the last two dates.

He could have eaten them easily, having worked up an apatite swinging a blade around the better part of an afternoon, but he had the luxury of ample meals whenever he called for one, unlike her.

The shy exterior melted into the lively attitude he was accustomed to, which had always lent a fullness inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. Nouke was the only person he knew to incite such a feeling.

“What is it your father’s been teaching you?” she asked, noshing on the last piece of fruit.

A tiny frown worked onto Ahk’s features, the shift in the curve of his mouth enough to elicit a slight ache in the muscles of his face. Nouke had always been curious about his lessons, and usually, he was happy to tell her the wisdom his father offered. However, after so much time away, Ahk didn’t want to discuss topics that had been pounded into his brain since he was six.

Ahkmenrah pulled absently at the green blades, and bit his bottom lip as he shrugged, “A lot of the same……just more.”

He sighed and when he caught her thin frown, he mustered a smile for her benefit, not wanting to burden her with his own troubles. It wasn’t right for him to complain, especially to her.

“He has been teaching me how to fight like Kahmunrah.”

“Oh?” she frowned, more out of wariness than sadness, but only briefly. “That must be fun. Is your brother helping?”

Ahk shook his head, “No.”

When he told his big brother that he was learning to fight, Ahkmenrah hoped it would spark some sort of kinship between them--a shared interest. Even a hint of intrigue would have been something. Instead, Kah had scoffed and pushed him out of his way. He didn’t understand why his brother treated him so.

“Sometimes I wish my father would make Kahmunrah pharaoh instead of me.”

Nouke glanced at him, surprise pressing a furrow onto her brow, “Why?”

Ahk shrugged, “I don’t want to spend my whole life in a palace. Kah isn’t going to be pharaoh, and he has traveled and seen so many places. I want to see them too.”

Nouke grew quiet, and he watched her thoughts manifest in waves of her pensive expressions, until a smile steadily unfurled across her features. Ahk smiled too, a reflex reaction to seeing her face light up with restored spirit.

“I think I know a way you can have a little adventure,” she told him before he could ask what had prompted her grin.

When she didn’t impart more of an explanation, intrigue contorted the prince’s face, his question written in the hook of his brow. Without a word, she tugged him off the cushion of grass and to his feet; he barely had time to find his footing before she was yanking him deeper into the garden. Ahkmenrah knew better than to ask where it was she was taking him; he followed her lead and reveled in the surge of thrill the mystery brought.

Nouke led him to the westernmost edges of the garden, skillfully cutting through the dense foliage that hid the towering wall until they were in the small space between the green brush and sand-colored stones. She stood for a moment, her hand still gripping his as she studied the bricks carefully.

“Nouke?” the prince asked, his eyes bouncing between her and the wall, then back to her.

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she surrendered his grasp and began pushing gently on individual stones, causing Ahk’s confusion to grow. He was about to ask her again when one of the bricks fell loose to the other side with a quiet thud.

“Found it!” Nouke beamed proudly.

Ahk’s mouth hung agape in awe, blinking as she pushed more of the bricks free until the breach was large enough to crawl through.

“How…?” 

“I had a lot of time to explore when you stopped visiting,” she explained with a shrug.

Ahk frowned, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Now are you gonna follow me on an adventure or stay in these walls?”

She was already climbing through the opening with ease as she spoke. The prince bit his lip as he smiled and nodded. His heart was pounding and his whole body tingled with excitement; of course, he was going to follow his friend on an adventure--he would follow her anywhere.

“Kamuzu!” Ahk shouted, knowing it would be better to have someone to watch out for them than not.

“No,” Nouke frowned, gazing at him with concern from the other side of the wall.

“It’s okay, he won’t tell anyone where we go. He'll just protect us,” he promised with a grin and deftly climbed through.

The sensation of hot sand beneath his feet for the first time was one the prince would never forget; it’s soft but coarse texture so alien but grand. Hundreds of tiny grains shifted and moved heedlessly around his toes--free--like he suddenly was. Ahk had only ever known the packed dirt of the training yard and the hard stone corridors of the palace. Sand was new, and it pulled a tight smile onto his lips.

Directly on the other side of the garden wall was a stretch of rural landscape that grew more arid the further west he looked beyond the Nile. All of it open and dotted with sparse, dried foliage: land that had yet to be peppered with stone structures. Along the banks of the mighty river green sprouted creating a striking contrast to the surrounding dry sands. It was like stepping from one magical garden into another, but this one had no walls.

Something ethereal washed over Ahkmenrah as he took in the grandeur of it all; the sights and smells and the horizon stretching out endlessly with nothing to keep him from running to where the sun was sinking into it. Everything he knew was encased in stone walls. It would have been so easy to venture into that vast countryside, but that sense of duty, that had been all but bred into him, kept him where he stood--yearning.

Nouke was already strolling along the riverbank, free of the yoke of responsibility. He was envious, to a degree, but not enough to hinder the joy he felt seeing her so uninhibited wading in the waters of the Nile. His feet sank into the sands as he stood watching her, finding the grains growing colder the deeper he rooted. Ahk wanted to follow her; he found himself glancing over his shoulder to the hole he had crawled out of.

Kamuzu managed to fit through and placed himself at the prince’s side, wearing the same stoical expression he always did.

“My father wouldn’t approve of me being outside the walls like this,” Ahk mused.

Kamuzu’s austere features softened, and one side of his mouth quirked into a slight smile, “Then we simply won’t tell him.”

With a nodding gesture, the Medjay encouraged the prince to join his friend. It was enough permission to chase away the invisible tether keeping his feet from moving, and with a flash of white teeth, Ahkmenrah grinned and ran to catch up with Nouke.

“Come feel the water, Ahk!” Nouke said, pulling him into the steadily flowing current of the Nile.

The water was up to their knees, and the cool rush around his legs was akin to the sand under his feet. The undeniable essence of life flowed around him, invigorating his senses and tingled every nerve in his body. The stagnant water in the pool of his garden would never compare to the constantly moving surge of the Nile. Ahk paid no attention to how wet his fine linen garments became; he wanted to stand there forever, feet buried in the soft river bed, water flowing freely around him as the sun warmed his shoulders. Nouke, however, took his hand and pulled him along with the current. The further from the palace they strode the less weight Ahkmenrah felt on his shoulders. There, he was just Ahk, and that was enough for him.

That stretch of bank along the mighty river became their second favorite place to venture. Many evenings that followed, Nouke and Ahk would tuck themselves away in their new oasis, a secret hideaway that allowed the masks of their reality to fall, letting them each be more and less than who they were meant to be.

*** 

Like the ever-changing waters of the Nile and the shifting desert's sand, the passage of time reshaped even the closest of paths. Responsibilities grew more significant as they grew older; placing a very irrefutable wedge between Ahkmenrah and his friend from the garden. Though they oft fought it.

At thirteen, Nouke was no longer simply a child of a maidservant, but a servant herself. She was expected to see to many chores at any hour, keeping her from the garden of her youth. As for the prince, his time of wistful adventure ran out too; Ahkmenrah was rarely out of his father’s sight. Merenkahre’s lessons shifted into actions. The pharaoh had taken to surrendering his seat on the throne or at the council, allowing the prince a taste of the future that awaited him.

The first time his father sprung such a notion onto his shoulders, Ahkmenrah was sure his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Every eye was on him, bearing down with a scrutiny that made his throat dry, and his palms sweat. He knew it was a test, one that he had been studying for most of his life. However, despite the years of shadowing his father’s every move, hearing his every command and testament, Ahkmenrah felt entirely out of his element. All his lessons were lost somewhere in the haze of his mind, and he desperately scrambled to recall what he had stored away. The only comfort was his father at his side.

Meren stood, mostly in silence, watching, lending quiet guidance, and solidarity. Even so, Ahkmenrah spent his first time as a ruler, with a white-knuckled grip to the armrest’s of the throne to keep his hands from shaking. That first time was the hardest. In the tests that followed, however, Ahkmenrah's confidence built more and more until he could present himself with the same regality of his father.

After a month of afternoons seeing to civil matters and addressing the council like a king, Ahkmenrah had never been more comfortable with the path the gods had laid before him. However, despite the comfort he felt, the notion of being pharaoh--and not just playing at it--had not yet taken hold. In his mind, he still had much to learn, but when his father summoned him to an early council meeting to discuss how much he'd learned in such a short amount of time; Ahkmenrah knew, his time as ruler was fast approaching.

That particular council meeting began like any other. Merenkahre sat at his normal seat at the head of the table while Ahkmenrah sat attentively next to his brother a few seats away. Most of the talk was the usual chatter: matters that ranged from trivial to pressing. Each warranted equal amounts of discussion regardless of how frivolous--a lesson Ahk learned early much to his childish frustration. When all other affairs had been seen to properly, Merenkahre stood, causing a hush to befall the room.

“My friends, there is but one matter remaining that I wish to discuss,” the pharaoh’s line of sight moved to his youngest son, and Ahk shifted, suddenly nervous. “I have been blessed in my time as pharaoh, and it is my wish that the same will be for the pharaoh who follows me.”

Merenkahre smiled proudly upon Ahkmenrah and gestured for the other men to follow his gaze. “As you are all aware, it was my intention to crown Ahkmenrah during his fifteenth year. But, during these past few weeks, he has shown wisdom beyond his years, and aptitude that far surpassed mine at his age.”

Ahkmenrah’s stomach twisted into a knot, and his heart was beating rapidly. Still, the prince held onto his composure, listening to his father, while sneaking side glances to Kahmunrah--seeing his indifferent expression meld into a disapproving sneer.

“Thus, I feel it is time, that I step aside and let Ahkmenrah take his place among Egypt's mighty pharaohs.” Merenkahre finished, holding his prideful simper.

A commotion broke out within the chamber as advisors sang praise to the pharaoh’s wisdom, all but one. Kahmunrah alone slouched into his chair, pouting, while the room congratulated the younger prince on his accomplishment. A lump grew in the back of Ahkmenrah’s throat; a cumulation of nerves, excitement, and a little guilt. No one had told Kahmunrah that he was never going to wear the crown, he figured it out on his own. And the bitterness it caused him had never been more palpable than in that moment.

Ahk swallowed that psychological clod in his throat before it grew large enough to choke him, and let his focus fall inward. A part of him considered forfeiting the crown with the demand that it be given to Kah so Ahkmenrah could spend his days exploring with Nouke. However, Ahkmenrah had endured years of teachings, and he wasn’t about to let his father’s teachings be for not. He didn’t want to let his father down, or his people. The prince wanted to be king, just not so soon.

“I’m not entirely sure he is prepared to rule, father,” Kahmunrah noted with an insouciant shrug.

Merenkahre shot his eldest son a vehement glare.

Kah raised his open palms as a sign of surrender, “I assure you; my reasoning does not come from my own desire to rule--”

“Then where?” Meren demanded.

“Your youngest son may possess the mind of a great ruler, but how can he rule the country if he does not know the country?”

The pharaoh’s intense leer waned as he considered Kah’s words thoroughly.

“I have seen much of this land,” Kah boasted. “The pyramids, where the Nile bleeds into the sea--I understand Egypt and her people. Ahkmenrah understands little more than the palace walls.”

The pensive expression on the pharaoh’s face melded back into a heavy suspicious leer.

“Are you suggesting that I crown you because you have seen all of these things?”

Kah’s jaw clenched as frustration strained his features, obviously upset his father gauged him with such mistrust. Nevertheless, Kahmunrah kept his tone even when he spoke his reply.

“My travels hardly give me merit to rule, father. I am simply suggesting the boy may appreciate the land and the people more if he sees them for himself.”

“Your son makes a fair point, my king,” one of the advisors noted.

“Yes,” another agreed. 

“And had you not seen much of the land and your people by the time you came to rule as well, father?” Kah added.

The pharaoh grew quiet again, rubbing his chin as he pondered. Ahk, however, sat, without finding words to speak, not entirely sure what was going to happen. It was rare Kah offered a suggestion that did not somehow benefit himself--Meren and Ahkmenrah knew that, which made the entire notion somewhat suspicious.

“And I suppose you want me to leave you in command while I am away with your brother?" Merenkahre tested, eyes growing narrow again.

Kah’s lips pressed into a firm line, his irritation becoming more difficult for him to stifle.

“You are the pharaoh, father. You will put into command whoever you think worthy,” his caustic tone matched his glance as he looked to Ahkmenrah and back to the pharaoh. “Just as you have always done.”

Ahk let his focus fall to the wood grain of the table in front of him, sinking lower in his chair, feeling Kah’s cold leer like daggers piercing his skin. He hated feeling guilty for something that was not completely his fault.

“Very well,” Merenkahre said finally. “I will think on this matter for a day, but it is likely the young prince, and I will soon be charting a course along the Nile.”

As the council adjourned, the apprehension that had been gnawing and tightening the knots in Ahkmenrah’s stomach slowly began to shift into something akin to excitement. Several of the advisors lingered, speaking to his father and brother about potential places to venture, but the prince didn’t stick around to learn where it was he and his father may be going. He liked the surprise.

It was early in the day, and he was sure there were to be more lessons awaiting him, but Ahkmenrah excused himself without a word, wanting nothing more at that moment then to share the good news with his best friend.

He went to their garden first in search of Nouke, but apart from the colorful birds, flitting throughout the greenery, it was empty. Curiosity pulled him deeper into the garden however, when his eyes scanned the furthest line of foliage, knowing the secret passage hidden behind the bushes. But, all the stones were as they should be; she was somewhere in the palace, and while a frown threatened to curl his lips downward, Akh would not let his excitement be hindered.

The prince wandered the grounds the better part of an hour before he found her among a group of maidservants, hanging washed linens to dry in the sunny courtyard. Immediately, Ahk's heart fluttered and beat faster and his smile spread across his face with tingling fervor. A chorus of surprised gasps echoed as he cut through the gathered women without ceremony. Some dropped to their knees while others bowed their heads respectfully, and all of them greeted him with a hushed “my, prince.” Nouke, however, beamed; giving him no such formal greeting. When Ahk took her hand, another gasp filled the open air of the courtyard, and the prince almost rolled his eyes at the drama of it all. Nouke didn’t ask when he whisked her away from her chores on hurried feet, she just laughed and held on to his hand like she would follow him wherever he wanted to take her.

Ahkmenrah was out of breath when he finally sat them down on the edge of the fountain in their garden. Nouke eyed him with amused confusion, waiting for his explanation with a soft smile painted on her lips.

“I have…to tell you…something…fantastic,” Ahk husked out between labored breaths.

Her dark eyes lit up, teaming with inquiry and that spirit he so admired. He took another moment or two to settle his breathing before he spoke.

“My father is going to take me on a trip to see the cities and landmarks of Egypt!” he was only vaguely aware of how fast he was talking; his excitement made it difficult for him not to. “It was Kah’s idea--he said a king should know his people. My father is going to make his ruling tomorrow and well…if he decides we are going; I'm going to ask that you come too.”

When he’d finished, Nouke’s excitement did not match his own, and that was enough to impede the joy he felt. She wasn’t even truly looking at him; her spirit dulled as she drew into her own thoughts.

“Nouke?” he asked gently, trying desperately to read her doleful aura.

She shook her head as her entire frame wilted, “I can’t go with you.”

Ahkmenrah’s face fell, and he met her sad eyes in silent question.

“I wish I could, Ahk. But I’m a servant. You're a prince. Your father would never allow someone like me to go with you.”

She was right. Servants were not companions to princes. Nouke to him, however, was so much more than a servant, she was his friend; she always would be no matter her station. His father would not understand that though, and the notion yanked ravenously on his heartstrings. All at once, the idea of adventuring lost its luster if he couldn’t share those experiences with her; and for a second time, he considered giving up the crown.

“I look forward to the stories you’ll bring back,” she said casting him a smile he knew was for his benefit and nothing more. “Promise you will tell me everything as soon as you return.”

Ahkmenrah nodded, sadness in his tone, “I promise.”

It fell quiet in the garden for a long time, the only sound coming from the rustling leaves caught in the desert breeze and the songbirds that played among them. Ahk’s eyes followed their sound, envying the freedom their wings granted them; with a few flaps, they could soar miles away.

“I have to get back to work,” Nouke murmured, sounding as though she didn’t want to leave him.

She gave him another rueful smile, and he did his best to match it.

“My father is probably looking for me,” he said, also not wanting to leave.

Before he turned to say his good-bye, Nouke pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. Pink tinted her features and she smiled again, that time not quite as sad.

“Have fun on your adventure, Ahk.”

The prince watched her go, his fingers caressing the spot where she had so brazenly kissed him, feeling utterly torn. Ahkmenrah yearned to see Egypt’s centuries-old monuments and cultures, but part of him wished to stay in the palace forever where Nouke was. Surely a pharaoh who could do as he pleased could remain friends with a servant. The aching knot in his stomach, however, told him such a notion was not going to be so easy.

Next Chapter-> Chapter Three: Across the Sands

[imaginationofacrazyfangirl]

When the Sun Melts the Ice

Written for my bff @junghelioseok, I finally wrote your Hobi fic!

Pairing:  Jung Hoseok X Reader

Genre: Angst,  strangers to friends, unrequited love, college au,  fake girlfriend! Reader, surprise ending?

Summary: You don’t think much of it when the Sunshine boy of Seoul University asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get his ex back. After all Soomin hates your guts.

Words: 4431

Warnings: Unedited

You don’t think much of it when one of the hottest boys on campus asks you to be his fake girlfriend. You don’t know much about Jung Hoseok aside from common knowledge and the college rumors floating around, but you do know Soo-min- his ex,very well. The dark haired beauty was your sworn enemy having tormented you since the early days of elementary school. So it only makes sense in Hoseok’s desperate need to make Soo-min jealous that he turns to the one person she despises.

“What’s in it for me?” You ask, unimpressed by his dimple smile. Many girls on campus would kill just to be called Jung Hoseok’s girlfriend, even if temporarily. 

You’re not like other girls though. The idea of being anyone’s significant other pretend or not fills you with dread. Love, attraction, sex, you don’t react normally to those things-mainly because you saw no point behind them. 

Hoseok’s smile falters. “I can hook you up with one of my fraternity brothers if they interest you more? But that would have to wait-”

“Does it look like I’m interested in your fraternity brothers?” You question, voice void of all emotions.

     A shiver runs up Hoseok’s spine as he’s reminded why your college nickname is Ice Queen. Suddenly he wonders if you can even pull off pretending to be his girlfriend. You aren’t exactly known for your warm loving personality… 

    “Well, what is it that you want?” he sighs.

He doesn’t know what to expect. Money would be the obvious answer since none of his brothers interest you. Completing your college assignments for the rest of the year is also a likely possibility (though he assumes you’ll request Namjoon the genius of Beta-Tau-Sigma to do it, instead of him). However he is completely unprepared for the request that slips out of your mouth.

   “I want to learn how to make friends.”

He blinks. “What?”

  To say he expects you to be joking is an understatement, but the frown marring your face says otherwise. His eyes widen. “Shit, you’re serious.”

   “Why not? You’re sociable. I mean you’re fucking Jung Hoseok, Sunshine boy of BTS. Everyone loves you.” You point out, finger prodding his chest aggressively. “If anyone can teach me how to make friends, it’s you.”

   “Alright fine, I’ll teach you how to make friends. Just stop poking me.”  Hoseok promises, hands raised in surrender. “But in turn you have to help make Soo-min jealous.”

    You eyed him suspiciously.  For a second Hoseok wonders if you’re going to back out. “Deal.” you finally reply. “So what now? We spit and shake hands or is this more of a blood pact thing?”

   To both your surprises Hoseok actually chortles. “How about we write up a contract? Blood pacts sound kinda scary.”

   Later that day Hoseok and you draw up a contract. He promises to teach you everything from small talk, first impressions and social norms in exchange for three months of servitude and prostitution  fake dating. Luckily Hoseok outlines everything that comes with the territory of dating, which in all honesty minus the few chick-flicks you’ve seen you are completely clueless of. In the end really all you have to do is hang around Hoseok, talk to him, laugh at his jokes, and occasionally display some form of physical affection. So far nothing vaguely alarming to  you.

 “Do I have to wear your hoodie? I can get my own.” you ask, picking at the fabric.

On your third week of dating Hoseok throws one of his hoodies over your head, claiming it too cold for you to walk around in short sleeves. Admittedly the fabric is comfier than anything you own and the warmth of Hoseok’s body still permeates it despite a solid hour passing. Part of you wants to keep it, but the rising goosebumps on Hoseok’s skin makes you rethink. Why didn’t Hoseok just ask for it back if he’s cold?  

   “Your dorm is a good four blocks away. You’ll become an icicle before you ever get there.” Hoseok laughs.

    You raise an eyebrow. “I think you’re the one becoming an icicle. You’re practically shivering Hoseok!”

   “Aish…you’re making me sound so uncool, Jagiya.” He bemoans playfully.

     You roll your eyes and pinch his arm. “Seriously Hoseok. Take the hoodie. I am perfectly fine in this weather. They call me Ice Queen after all.”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Ice Queen or not, what type of man would I be if I let a friend freeze to death?”

   His words strike an unfamiliar feeling in you. It’s a strange feeling one that can only be described as a pleasantly warm ache. It thrills you as much as it scares you. Later you would pinpoint this moment as this beginning out it all, when your heart first started to melt. For now though you shove the feeling back with the reminder that this was all pretend.

    The real trouble begins when Hoseok introduces you to his ‘brothers’ a week later.’  The members of Beta-Tau-Sigma are undoubtedly the hottest students on campus, but what really scares you is the mere idea of making small talk. “Are you sure this is a smart idea? I mean we’ve just gone over the basics of small talk last week.”  you say clinging to Hoseok’s sleeve.

    The cherry haired boy laughs unable to deny your cuteness. If someone told him, he’d grow attached to Seoul University’s very own Ice Queen, Hoseok wouldn’t believe them. Hell, when he first approached you one month ago, Hoseok was low-key scared of you. You were just so unsociable, glaring at everyone who came your way, giving people the cold shoulder, and never speaking more than necessary. He whole-heartedly believed Soo-min’s claims of you being sociopath.

       “I want to learn how to make friends.” 

Your words echo in his head. A smile makes its way to his face at the memory. No sociopath would want such a thing. You were just a lonely girl whose awkwardness and shyness came off as apathy. “You’ll be fine, (Y/N). The guys are nice, I promise.” Hoseok assures. “Besides I’ll be here the whole time.”

    Your lips press together in what Hoseok recognizes as your version of a smile. The sight warms Hoseok’s heart. It may not be a full smile, but it isn’t your normal frown either. Hoseok hopes one day it can turn into a real bright smile. Moreover he hopes to see it when it does.

   “Guys! I’m back and I brought (Y/N) with me.” Hoseok calls as you guys enter the fraternity.

  You shy even closer to him practically hiding behind him. You are too cute, nothing like the cold-hearted (Y/N) (L/N) everyone feared. “Are they even awake?”

   “It’s mid-afternoon of course we’re awake.” Yoongi snorts coolly, appearing from around the corner. The two of you jump bringing a gummy smile to his face. “So you are Hoseok’s fake girlfriend? Definitely not the type of girl I imagined he’d go for-even if pretend.”

   Hoseok frowns.  “Yoongi-” 

“I don’t know you look like grumpy cat and he is friends with you sooo..” You snap back, reverting to your usual defensive nature.

   “(Y/N), remember what we talked about?” Hoseok pleads.

  However his pleas are ignored as Yoongi’s eyes narrowed into slits. “Grumpy cat?”

     “Meow.” You mock sassily.

Tension fills the room. Hoseok swear he can see lightning flash between you too. He’s about ready to have a panic attack when Yoongi snorts. His heart stops as his white haired friend doubled over laughing. “Meow? Did you really just meow?”

    “Maybe.” you shrug, pink dusting your cheeks.

     “I like her, Hobi. Keep her around.” 

   The excitement of his approval brings a fluttering to your heart. You’re so happy you miss Hoseok’s response. In hindsight you know it is such a silly thing to be proud of. After all you weren’t friends or anything with Yoongi, but it is a start. Something Hoseok seem to recognize, because he engulf into a big bear hug. He praises you, not once mentioning your poor etiquette or how you didn’t follow any of his teachings. The warm feeling from last week returns this time planting itself right into your thawed heart.

By the sixth week you’re so deeply ingrained in Hoseok’s life, he can’t remember a day you weren’t there. His mornings now consist of idle chats while walking you to class and the occasional coffee stop. Afternoon involve study trips to the library, followed by lunch either at the café or his fraternity; you are shockingly a good chef, something Hoseok never would’ve guessed. Nights tend to vary in activity, however almost always you two were together. Not day seemed to pass where you weren’t glued to his side and vice versa.  Even his brothers took a liking to you, which is unusual given their distaste for Soo-min.

Either way if Hoseok hadn’t already saw you as a friend, he definitely did now. It’s only ironic that during such a growth in your guys’ relationship Soo-min finally takes notice. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that Hobi?” Soo-min corners him one day outside of class. A sneer paints her cute little mouth as her nose twitches in obvious disgust. Hoseok swallows hard unable to stop his heart from beating against his chest. Even with that nasty look on her face, she’s still adorable. “I mean seriously? Hanging out with that loser (Y/N) to make me jealous? As if that would ever work, you know she’s a freak right?”

The harsh words against you causes him to frown. He never really understood Soo-min’s hatred of you. All she ever said was you were an emotionless freak and several other mean accusations excusing her dislike of you. Nothing ever substantial. “Stop it, Soo-min. You’re being mean.” 

Soo-min’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?! You’re not really defending that-”

    “Don’t. I love you Soo-min, but I won’t have you bad talking (Y/N).” Hoseok replies firmly. “Now if you have nothing nice to say I suggest you leave.”

    An indignant cry escapes Soo-min as she stomps off like a child. Hoseok releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His head spins with confusion and frustration. Confusion at his sudden shift from how willing he was to drop Soo-min for you. Frustrated at Soo-min’s hatred of you, why couldn’t she see how truly vulnerable you were? He only thank god you weren’t around to hear Soo-min. He could imagine you’d pull back into that shell of yours from her words.

    “Well, she still doesn’t like me. Guess that’s a plus for you.”

 Hoseok leaped at the sound of your monotone voice.  The hairs on the back of his rising as he turned to find you lounging a few feet behind him. Your lips twitch in amusement by his fright. “Jagiya, don’t do that. You know I don’t like it when you sneak up on me.” he breathes out.

     You raise an eyebrow shooting him a look. “Jagiya? Aren’t you milking it a bit? Soo-min is nowhere to be seen, and I doubt her little lackeys are watching.”

  Another frown finds its way to his face. He rubs the back of his head, guilt eating him inside. “How much of that did you hear?”

  “Just the usual sound of her calling me a loser and what not.” You shrug. “She was rather tame if you ask me-sorry, I shouldn’t be talking bad about your girlfriend.”

   Hoseok shakes his head. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. Soo-min’s not normally like that. She’s kind, loving, a good person-”

   You hold a hand up to halt him. “You don’t need to explain Soo-min to me. There’s a lot of good, kind, loving people who hate me. I’m used to it. I mean I’m the Ice Queen after all, what does it matter if someone is mean to me-”

    “IT SHOULD MATTER!!” Hoseok snaps, startling you. This is the first time you ever seen Hoseok mad. It’s alarming. You didn’t even know he could get mad. The boy was the epitome of sunshine and rainbows for God’s sake. 

    He let out a weary sigh seeming to calm down. “It should matter to you. No one should treat you like this…I can’t stand it. I especially can’t stand why they do it. They don’t even know you. They don’t even try to know you.”

   A smile graces your face for the first time ever, but it’s not the smile Hoseok longs to see. It’s a bitter smile full of what he knows to be self-depreciation and hatred. “Could you honestly say you’d be any different if not for Soo-min breaking up with you?”

    No, he can’t and it kills him.

On the two month anniversary of your fake relationship Hoseok takes you out to a nice restaurant. It’s a little overkill you think given the hostility Soo-min’s begun to display since her and Hoseok’s confrontation two weeks ago, but you say nothing. Instead you wear the nicest dress you can find and do your best to look enviable for Hoseok’s sake. Your heart aches at the thought that soon the contract between you two will expire, meaning the end of your relationship and friendship. Just the thought alone cause pain to shoot through your being.  The seed planted by Hoseok’s kindness has finally started to take root within you, and while you are yet to recognize the emotion it brings, you know it’s nothing good.

“Are you sure this isn’t a little too much? I get that we’re putting on a show for Soo-min, but wouldn’t a café do just as well?” You suggest as Hoseok leads you into the brightly lit restaurant. It’s like something seen on the travel channel or a movie. Its ceilings hung with chandeliers and white silk cloths draped from one end to the other. Servers are dressed in crisp black uniforms setting the tables with multiple silverware. It’s all too much.

You are (Y/N) (L/N), Ice Queen/misfit of Seoul University. You aren’t meant for such treatment. “Aish…like I’d let my girlfriend fake or not go to a café for our anniversary. Nope, sorry Jagiya tonight we dine like royalty.” Hoseok winks.

Heat rushes to your face. Warming your inside as well. Another root spreads off the seed within you. “Hoseok…” you whine. “Really, I’m not meant for this treatment. I’m meant to have frozen pizza and the occasional takeout. Not rich people food.”

Hoseok snorts shaking his head. “Rich people food? You’re sounding awfully judging there. I’m not that rich.”

You’re about to argue otherwise, seeing how his net-worth is twelve million compared to your negative two dollars, but you stop yourself. “Spending this much money isn’t worth it for a fake relationship.”

“No, it’s not.” Hoseok agrees. A serious expression appearing on his face as he stares straight into your eyes. “But it is worth it for a friend.”

The smile reappears on his face as he drags you straight to a table hidden in back. “Come on (Y/N), think of it as a celebration for your success. In the last two month you’ve managed to befriend all my brothers and a few of their girlfriends. If that’s not cause to celebrate I don’t know what is.”

You frown. “Then why don’t we celebrate with them?”

  “Really (Y/N)? Can’t you just let me treat you to something nice?” Hoseok pleads.

     Your eyes narrow in on him untrusting. It reminds Hoseok of two months ago when this thing started. All the glares and narrowed glances you gave him shook Hoseok to the core. He spent the whole time hopping you wouldn’t murder him as the contract was drafted. Never once did he consider you might be as cautious of him as he was you.

      “Fine, but I’m getting the cheapest thing.” you decide, lifting the menu up.

   Hoseok watches entertained as you stare at the menu in hard concentration. Your brow wrinkles, nose twitching irritated as you look over the words. You look so much like an angry bunny, he can’t not to smile. “Problem?”

    You glare at him over the menu. “You know damn well it’s in Japanese, Jung Hoseok.”

 His smile splits into a grin, he wags a finger at you. “Now now (Y/N) remember what we talked about not directing anger at others.”

   “Shove it, Sunshine boy.” you reply, pouting in your chair.

 Hoseok laughs. He can’t remember why he ever thought you were anything but cute. Meanwhile you are trying to do everything in your power to stop the unpleasant roots of affection clambering beneath your skin.

     A week later you find yourself hunched over the toilet sick to your stomach. As fall rolls into winter, flu season hits the college hard. Nearly half of the population is absent from class due to puking their guts out and you’re no exception. So you text Hoseok letting him know not to bother picking you today since you are definitely not leaving anytime soon.

    He replies with a simple text telling you to get better, and you spend the rest of the day curled on the couch watching Friends. At some point you must’ve dozed off, because you awaken to a cool towel being placed on your forehead. Your eyes shoot open to see a grim Hoseok hovering anxiously over you. “Hey Jagiya, didn’t mean to startle you.” he murmurs softly.

   “Again with the Jagiya? You know we’re the only ones here right?’ you croak, bringing a smile to his face.

    “Sorry. I guess it’s just kinda becoming habit you know?”

Yes, you do know and you don’t like it. Jagiya is a nickname lovers give each other, while it was appropriate to use when feigning a relationship it shouldn’t be used so thoughtlessly outside that time frame. 

    “Whatever.” You mutter, ignoring the sharp pain in your ribs. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have stuff to do?”

     Hoseok pouts. “I’m taking care of you aren’t I? Doesn’t that count as doing something?”

You blush as yet again warmth floods your body. It’s been years since someone’s taken care of you. When you were little all you had to depend on was your Aunt and Uncle, they were never too fond of you. Hoseok being here for you…it’s almost too sweet to handle. 

“I should have never given you a key.” You mutter, burying yourself under the blankets.

        Thankfully Hoseok laughs not turned off by your rudeness. “Well it’s too late now. I’m not giving it up without a fight.”

     You roll your eyes. “Don’t you have a frat house or something to go invade? I’m sure they’ll be happy to have your sunny ass.”

    “Maybe.” Hoseok hums. “But I’m not returning until I’m sure you’re alright. The flu is a nasty thing. It kills you know?”

    It kills…your mind flashes back to the contents of your vomit earlier. A hollow feeling fills you as your chest tightens. The flu killed, but maybe not as bad the affection blossoming within you for Hoseok.

    Barely a week passes by when you decide to take the bull by its horn. The contract is on its last legs. While your end of the bargain is more than fulfilled, Hoseok’s still is nowhere near complete. Since that day he stood up for you, Soo-min had been sniffing around more, but it wasn’t enough. Time was running out in more than one way and you’d be damned if Hoseok didn’t get the happiness he deserves by the end of it. 

    Which is why you decide to make the ultimate move one day after class…a wide mouth sloppy kiss pressed against Hoseok’s unsuspecting lips. He jolts not shocked by your brazen behavior. Physical affection had been apart of the contract, but until now it consisted solely of hand holding, hugs, and the occasional peck of forehead. For you to throw yourself at him like this…well you’re surprised Hoseok has enough sense to kiss you back.

    Unsurprisingly Hoseok is well versed in the art of kissing. His tongue gently entangling itself with yours as he guides you through it. He’s so good at it you almost believe Hoseok’s kissing you because he wants to and not to make Soo-min jealous. The thought causes your heart to leap, but reality brings a choking feeling to you. Reluctantly you pull away before the sensation gets too overwhelming.

    Hoseok silently stares at you, tongue running across his lips. “That was…”

       “Unexpected, I know, sorry.” You says. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soo-min glaring daggers at you. Undoubtedly this little stunt will book you meeting with her, but you could care less. “But if it’s any consolation, I think it did the trick. Don’t look now but Soo-min seems rather jealous.”

    “Soo-min?” Hoseok asks, eyeing immediately going towards the girl. He lets out a breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Right, Soo-min.”

     You pat his shoulder. “Give it a day or two, but I promise she’ll come running back.”

        Hoseok nods wordlessly his eyes never leaving Soo-min. Your lips twitch upwards into a small smile, the suffocating pain growing as your love for him blooms. You lick your lips tasting the foreboding flavor of iron. “I guess this is it for us, huh Sunshine boy?”

       You press one last kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for everything. I really enjoyed being your friend while it lasted.”

      Hoseok snaps out of his trance. “While it lasted? (Y/N) wait-”

  However it’s too late. You’ve already disappeared into the throng of students nowhere to be seen. Hoseok’s heart squeeze at memory of your sad smile. For the last few weeks all he wanted was to see you smile, but never like that. Silently Hoseok wonders if he caused that hurt smile of yours. If he did, Hoseok doesn’t think he can forgive himself.

    Two days later you find yourself surrounded by Soo-min and her minions. It is nothing new, seeing how your antagonistic relationship goes back a good decade and a half. However this time there is more than just mutual dislike between you two. “You know Hoseok’s only dating you to get me back right? He would never look at you otherwise.” Soo-min taunts, a wicked grin splitting across her face.

    She wants to make you suffer-to hurt you in the worst way possible. It’s something Soo-min’s always dreamt of, only to get disappointed by your apathy towards her. This time is no different.

 “You’re probably right.” You agree. “But then again, you would think he’d realize it’s not working and give up, if that’s the case. I mean you’re obviously not going back to him, yet Hoseok’s still dating me. Hmmm …I wonder…”

     Her face turns red causing you more joy than necessary. Normally you didn’t antagonize Soo-min like this, but you have a part to play. Hoseok wants her back, and you would do anything to help, even if it meant putting yourself in the line of fire. 

“You disgusting freak! Stay away from my boyfriend!” Soo-min shrieks.

 A sharp slap rings through the air as pain spreads across your cheek. It takes you a second to realize what had happened. Your cheek stings something awfully fierce, and you know without a doubt it’ll be swollen later. Yet none of this matters, because Soo-min said the magic words. The words that would bring Hoseok happiness.

   “What the fuck are you doing?!” a familiar voice yells.

Your head whips over to see Yoongi marching over. Anger radiates off him as Yoongi pushes his way in front of you, his back creating a barrier between you and your tormentors. Confusion fills the air as everyone, but Yoongi are surprised by his actions. Soo-min steps forward looking as innocent as can be. “Yoongi-oppa, what are you doing here?”

   “I was walking to class, when I saw you attack (Y/N).” Yoongi grits. 

  Soo-min actually has the gall to play dumb. “Attack? I would never attack anyone, oppa. You must be seeing things. We’re just having a friendly chat with (Y/N) weren’t we girls?”

   “Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s rain, Soo-min. I know what I saw and when Hobi finds out, you can kiss that stupid little hold you have over him goodbye-”

    “Stop it, Yoongi. Please.” 

Yoongi stills at your words. His eyes wide with disbelief. “No (Y/N), you can’t let her get away with this. Hoseok wouldn’t want-”

   Your eyes screw shut not wanting to hear his words. Your chest constricts with a pain you’ve grown all too accustomed to. “Please Oppa, just take me home.”

    Yoongi give you a conflicted look, but cedes nonetheless. He wraps an arm around your shoulder glaring at the girls as he leads you back home. You don’t even bother opening your eyes. You know Soo-min’s grinning victoriously. 

   Night falls and your cheek is now the size of a golf ball. Yoongi sits besides you pressing a cold pack to it. You’re eternally grateful for the blonde, even if you wished he’d leave. His presence only reminds you of how soon everything will end. “I don’t see why you refuse to tell Hoseok this?  Soo-min or not, he won’t put up with someone treating his friends like this.” Yoongi says for the millionth time.

   You shrug, curling into yourself. “What does it matter? It all be over soon anyway. Soo-min will undoubtedly return to Hoseok like he wanted, and our friendship will be over.. It’ll be like none of this ever happened.”

   “That’s bullshit.” Yoongi gritted. “And you know it. Hobi isn’t one to abandon his friends like that.”

    “Maybe.” You murmur, eyes flickering to the jars on your shelf. Each one of them is filled to the brim with white orchid petals. The sight makes you laugh genuinely laugh. Of all the flowers out there it had to be something so rare and exotic. A flower to represent the fragility and abnormality of the love blossomed from the Ice Queen for a ray of sunshine. 

     The taste of iron coats your tongue as your chest gave another excruciating squeeze. Swallowing back the blood, bile and petals threatening to escape you turn towards the blonde haired boy. Shooting him a soft smile you ask. “Hey Yoongi..do you know what Hanahaki disease is?”

——————————————————————————————————–

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 ) is a disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim’s romantic feelings for or memory of their love also disappear.

[malcyon]

Leap, Fall, Fly

Summary: He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” 

Tim looks at him, amused.“Dude, I have, like, four.”

*****

Kon figures some stuff out. Tim helps.

Read on AO3

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Kon kinda wishes he hadn’t come to Gotham tonight.

The pavement below shines with reflected street light thanks to the freezing rain, because the weather in this city sucks. And there’s this creepy chill in the air that's unique only to Gotham that’s been making him shiver for the past hour. But Tim had called, asking if he wanted to patrol, and there was no way in hell Kon was turning that down or leaving halfway through the night.

Even if he can’t feel his feet anymore.

He runs a hand through his hair, ignoring the cold water that runs down his neck, and tries very hard not to look over at where his best friend is crouching on the edge of the building they’re staking out on. He seems to be trying to not look at Tim a lot these days. Trying to focus on anything else.

A few blocks away, a lady is yelling at her cat for knocking over a houseplant.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Tim roll his shoulders back smoothly.

Kon huffs out a frustrated puff of air and examines a trash can in the alley below. Part of him feels like he should say something, but he doesn't know what. He doesn't know what to say to Tim most of the time these days.

Despite that, he’s been stealing moments with the other boy outside of the team whenever he could since he’d gotten back from being dead, or comatose, or whatever it was he had been. What Kon hadn’t been, was there to see the results of his death (and Stephanie's, and Bart's, and Bruce's, and Tim's dad's, and so, so many more) on his best friend. Hadn’t been there to see Tim fall apart and then forge himself into something stronger than what he’d been as Robin.

A rat skitters over the garbage lid. He watches it blankly.

He knows that Tim had shattered while he was dead, had put himself back together piece by piece until he was almost whole again. And even now he acts fine, enough so that no one gets too close to see where he's falling apart at the edges.

But sometimes Kon will catch Tim staring at him like he’s about to disappear. Will catch the too fast, scared heartbeat of his best friend.

And it makes Kon want to scream or punch something, blame someone for not helping—It makes him want to hold onto Tim and tell him he’s not going away ever, ever again; because who else is gonna stay up with him to binge-watch Wendy movies and eat junk food until two in the morning? Hell, they don’t even have to do that; Kon would be down with anything that would get rid of the sad look in Tim’s eyes.

And this isn’t even counting all the bullshit with the assassins and Bruce dying and coming back and how strained things still are between Tim and Dick and how there’s a new Robin along with a new Superboy and—

Kon glares at the brick wall across the alley. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t care that Jon had donned the costume. Yeah, his little brother has done more than earned it, but it hurts knowing that he’d missed that too.

Plus now he has to come up with a new hero name.

He shivers again and scuffs his foot against the ground. Carefully, he glances over at Tim, whose masked eyes are still examining the dark corners below their building. Kon sorta hopes that something happens so he could at least move around a bit.

He wonders if that’s unethical then decides that he’s too cold to do any further introspection about himself.

Kon whines instead, “Hey, Red Robin.”

There’s no answer from the other boy—not even a twitch.

“Red. Robbie. Rob. R—”

Tim lets out a long sigh and Kon grins at him. “What?”

“I’m bored.”

“And?”

“And I’m cold.”

“And?”

“And I’m hungry, dude. I want some of Agent A’s cookies.”

Tim looks over at him, and Kon floats a few inches off the ground, giving his best puppy-dog eyes. He’s pretty sure Tim raises an eyebrow under the mask, but Kon tilts his head anyway, mimicking the face Jon gives Lois when he has to go to bed but the movie will be done in ten minutes, come on, pleeeeease.

Tim sighs again, in either amusement or exasperation Kon’s not sure. But he does stand up, so Kon gives himself a mental high five.

“Not like anything’s going on anyway.”

Kon doesn’t even bother to hide his beaming smile as he asks, “Fly back?”

Tim shrugs in agreement and jumps down from his brooding perch, steps light on the rooftop. Kon lowers himself to the ground, carefully picks up the other boy, and is suddenly very much aware of how Tim smells like rain and some sort of really nice body wash. He probably takes off a little too quickly, but he blames it on wanting to get out of the cold.

Tim makes a startled noise and throws an arm around Kon’s shoulders, and Kon curses at himself briefly before wrapping Tim up in his TTK, stabilizing him. The other boy relaxes but doesn’t seem to find it necessary to remove his grip, and Kon decides that focusing on flying is a really great idea. At the very least, it’s better than running into a street lamp.

He’s been in Gotham enough now to know how to get to the Manor from anywhere in the city, and the lights blur together as he goes faster and faster, raindrops splashing against his face.

To be honest, Kon has no idea if he's even allowed to be in the Bat's territory; he certainly wasn't given an invitation. But Tim's been dragging him here more and more lately, and since he hasn't been stabbed with a kryptonite batarang yet, Kon's not going to ask any questions. Maybe Tim had just worn Bruce down, or maybe Dick had changed the man's mind. Whatever it was, Kon got to hang out more with Tim and that’s what mattered.

Tim's laugh draws him out of his head, the sound vibrating through Kon’s chest and he lets out a whoop as they dodge buildings all the way to the Manor.

The rain has thoroughly soaked both of them by the time they enter the tunneled entrance to the Cave, but Kon can’t find it in him to care as he lands, still snickering, on the floor. Tim is grinning wildly as he steps out of Kon’s arms and takes off the Red Robin mask, his wet hair dripping down into his face until he runs a gauntleted hand through it. It sticks up in a bunch of spikes and Kon bursts into laughter.

Tim scowls at him and shakes his head, water droplets flying everywhere and making it even worse.

Kon bites his lip, barely toning down his sniggers, and steps forward. “Dude, stop; that’s not helping.” Tim glares. Kon rolls his eyes and, before he lets himself think about it too much, drags his hands through Tim’s hair, managing to calm it down enough to look presentable.

Tim’s skin is warmer than he thought it’d be, and his hair is thick with water and getting long. Kon likes it; his friend looks older, different in a way that makes Kon wanna stare at him. He wonders if anyone else notices like Kon does. Girls on the street certainly do whenever they go out as civilians, their stares catching on Tim's form, his sharp eyes. The thought makes his stomach sour.

Tim blinks, surprised with the contact maybe, but only gives Kon a quiet grin and doesn’t say anything.

Kon wants to beat his forehead against a wall.

The other boy unexpectedly takes a step back and surveys him with narrowed eyes. “You’re soaked.”

“So are you,” he points out, but Tim waves the observation aside.

“Yeah, but I’m taking this off—” Part of Kon’s brain is suddenly filled with some very exciting images—“and changing into something else. But you don’t really have any extra clothes.”

Kon tries to ignore the pictures in his head, but the tips of his ears still feel hot when he manages, “Am I staying the night?”

The atmosphere changes and Kon suddenly feels like he’s blundering through something that should be handled by someone who understands their own feelings. Tim opens his mouth, then pauses before continuing, “You don’t have to, I mean, if you have things you need to do then you should go, but the storm is gonna get really bad so—”

“No!” Kon definitely did not yelp. He clears his throat. “No, I’ll call Ma, but I should be in the clear. It’s a Friday so, you know, I can do the important chores later this weekend.”

Tim slowly nods. “Yeah, yeah, tell her I said hi. I’m going to get out of this suit; I’ll be right back.”

Kon isn't sure if he imagines the sudden stiffness to Tim’s shoulders as he walks away to some other part of the cave to change or not. He watches for a second, wanting to say something else even if he doesn't know what. But he only pulls out his burner phone and taps out Ma’s number, pointedly ignoring the unexpected awkwardness in the air. She picks up by the second ring.

“Hello?” There’s the sound of crickets and Krypto’s barking behind her voice, and Kon smiles a little bit for no particular reason.

“Hey, Ma. There’s a storm passing through Gotham, so it’s cool if I stay the night at the Manor, right?”

“Of course, Conner. I’m guessing that you’re with Tim?”

“Yeah, he says ‘Hi’ by the way. I promise I’ll try to go to sleep at a decent time tonight.”

She hums at him over the phone, amused. “I’m sure you will.” Kon hears her take in a breath, then hesitate.

“Ma?”

“How . . . are things with Tim?”

He straightens up even though she can’t see him.

“I—What?”

“How is he?”

“Uh, he’s okay. Busy. I think he’s running himself a little ragged.”

“I’m not surprised. You'll need to bring him over for dinner.”

“For dinner?” Kon's pretty sure he's missing something that should be obvious.

“The last time he came over feels like ages ago, and things between you two have seemed rather . . . tense.”

“What—How?”

She hesitates again. “It just feels like you both have something to say to each other.”

His heart stumbles, breath catching in his throat.

"I don't—"

"I've seen the way you look at him, dear."

His brain scratches to a stop.

She continues thoughtfully, "You're always talking about him, you did even while you were dating that Cassie girl. And I know how much time you've been spending with him lately, with the team and all." She's quiet for a moment. "You're sweet on him, aren't you?"

The question hangs in the air, and Kon struggles to breathe.

"I . . . “ He swallows weakly. “Maybe. Just a little. You know.”

”Really? I was so sure you two—"

"We're not together!" The words come out strangled as his ears burn from the teasing in her tone. Ma sighs over the phone.

"Well, I know that. If you were you'd have brought him over for dinner."

Oh.

He licks his lips, mouth suddenly dry. "You think I should . . . "

"Talk to him? Yes, I think you should."

"But what if he doesn't—"

"He does. Trust me, dear, he does." Kon opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He thinks of the way Tim’s hair felt against his hands and the haunted look in his eyes that sometimes appears when nobody is paying attention. Ma continues softly, “He’s a good boy and I know what he means to you, Conner. Talk to him.”

He nods at the ground. “Yeah . . . Yeah, I will. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, and tell Alfred I want him to send me his recipe for snickerdoodles, and in return, I’ll finally give him my instructions for blueberry pie.”

A weak laugh comes out of his chest. “Okay, Ma.”

“Don’t stay up all night,” she chuckles and then says gently, "I love you."

"Love you, too."

She hangs up.

He puts his phone away and stares at the chittering bats on the ceiling high above.

Kon knows that he and Tim have been dancing around having a real talk for months. And it's weird because they used to be able to say anything to each other. But now it’s like they’re walking on a tightrope, carefully balancing so they don’t fall into a chasm of complicated feelings beneath them.

The truth is that Tim and Kon don’t click the way they had before. Like some piece of their puzzle has been flipped, and an entirely new picture created. And Kon has no idea what to do about it. 'Cause they’ve always been close. Before Kon had died, they’d been the best of friends, trusted one another with their secrets, their goddamn lives. Tim had covered his back and he had covered Tim’s. Even when the team was together, they were the ones who had stuck to each other’s sides like glue.

But then Kon had gone and gotten himself killed.

He knows that after he died the team had lost it. Cassie had joined a cult, Bart had died, and Tim had—

Kon’s throat suddenly feels way too tight.

He looks down at the ground.

But then Kon came back. And, yeah, they’re still best friends, but now there’s something else there. Something that both of them have been dutifully ignoring for months now and that Kon isn’t too keen on bringing up, messing with their delicate balance.

Though if Ma had noticed the tension between them . . . They really had to talk.

“Just to let you know, the house is gonna be basically empty tonight, it’s only us, Alfred, and Damian.” Tim’s voice comes from behind him, and Kon nearly jumps. He spins around to see his friend in some old work out clothes, rubbing his head on a towel.

Kon stares at him in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that your entire family all had things to do tonight except for the Bat Brat?” Tim grins at him from underneath the towel and something in Kon’s chest grows warm.

“Yeah, Dick’s in Bludhaven, Jason’s blowing some buildings up, the girls decided to go on a weekend trip to Japan, and Bruce is in Italy for sudden business stuff.”

“And the reason Damian hasn’t included himself in any of these activities is?”

“He’s sick.”

Kon nearly snickers.

“You’re shitting me. There’s no way he’d let getting sick stop him from doing any of that.”

Tim laughs and shakes his head. “Both Bruce and Dick threatened him with being benched if he went anywhere this weekend.”

Kon whistles. Direct orders from the Bat weren’t to be taken lightly. “I’m guessing that went well.”

Tim shrugs and puts the towel around his neck. “Not as bad as you would think. I mean, he was definitely in a pissy mood, but I think Jon is rubbing off on him. There wasn’t as much yelling as there could have been. But he was also totally out of it, so I’m giving credit to his cold and not development of character.” Tim throws the towel on a nearby table and starts walking up the stairs to go into the house, Kon floating after him.

Tim leads him through several hallways filled with family pictures that Kon knows his friend probably took when none of his said family was paying attention. One snags his eye and he pauses to get a better look. It's of Tim and Cassandra throwing pillows at each other inside one of the Manor’s many guest rooms. Whoever took the photo had good timing; they had caught Tim mid-laugh, eyes bright as they watched Cass bring a pillow down on his head.

Kon examines it for a second longer before the sound of Tim’s footsteps brings him back to the present.

He doesn’t look at any more pictures.

The kitchen is one of Kon’s favorite places in the house; it’s cozy despite its size, painted with pale yellows and creamy whites, and usually contains some kind of treat Alfred's whipped up. He hovers in the doorway, breathing in the warmth as Tim opens up one of the many cupboards and grabs a tin of what Kon hopes has cookies in it. He resists the urge to do a mid-air flip when he’s proven correct and Tim hands him the container while he starts to make tea.

The awkwardness from earlier has transformed into something comfortable and familiar, and Kon floats cross-legged and watches as Tim pours water into a pot and sets it to boil.

He takes a sweet from the tin and bites into it, the cookie melting on his tongue. He moans quietly because food and glances back up at his friend. Tim is facing the stove, shoulders suddenly rigid and Kon's eyes snag on the bright pink color his ears are turning.

Then he notices that Tim didn’t manage to dry his hair all the way, and Kon watches as a drop of water rolls down the back of his neck.

He swallows his cookie.

“Hey, so, I—I need some advice.” Kon isn't sure what to do with his hands, and he ends up lightly tapping the box with his fingers. Tim turns around, his brow furrowed in slight concern, the pink quickly fading from his ears.

“With what?”

Kon stares at the granite island below where he’s floating. He brings himself down until he sits on it with his legs hanging over the side, towards Tim but not quite looking him in the eyes. “I need to come up with a new hero identity.”

Tim’s gaze widens a tiny bit with realization before a smirk spreads on his face. “Does this mean a new outfit? Because you need a new outfit.”

Kon drops his mouth open, only to shut it and scowl. “What’s wrong with this?” He gestures to his damp t-shirt and jeans.

Tim gives him a look.

“Do you know how many shirts you go through?”

“They’re easily replaceable!”

“So many. I can’t begin to tell you how many shirts I’ve seen you lose on missions. And in the tower. And on the farm. And—why do you even wear them at this point?”

Kon huffs and glares at him. “At least help me come up with a new name.”

There’s the sound of dog nails on wood and a subdued sneeze, and Tim’s gaze locks on something behind him. Kon twists around and Damian meets his stare coolly, even though Kon can see the circles under the kid’s eyes and his raw nose. Shit.

“A new name for exactly what, clone?”

Tim sighs and goes to grab another mug as Titus weaves around his legs. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Damian scrunches his nose with distaste. “I’ve been in bed all day, Drake.”

“The more you rest up, the sooner you get back to patrolling with Superboy,” Kon points out and Damian shoots him a half-hearted glower. Since becoming friends with Jon and more tolerant of Tim, Damian had grown used to Kon’s presence and quips. Kon's pretty sure that Damian isn't pleased about this at all.

“Is that what you’re doing? Finally moving on from Superboy and creating a new identity?” Damian plops down on one of the counter’s stools and sniffles. Kon offers him the tin of sweets. The kid sighs and takes it without a snarky comment.

No wonder Bruce had made him stay home.

“Yeah, trying to at least.”

Tim hums in thought, “You going to keep ‘Super’ in the name, or not?”

“It would be moronic if you didn’t,” Damian states, but doesn’t look up from where he’s feeding Titus a cookie. Kon cocks his head and resists the urge to swing his legs back and forth like a kid deciding what kind of ice cream he wants.

“It’d be weird if I don’t, but considering how both Superman and Superboy are taken, well . . .”

Tim considers him for a moment. “Superdude.”

“No.”

“Superguy?”

“I don’t care how bad that storm is out there; I will fly home if I have to.”

“Superlad.”

“Drake, I will set Titus on you.”

“Eat your cookie, Demon Brat.”

Damian ignores the order and glances at Kon like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to make the words come out the right way. He nibbles on his lip before speaking, “Jon’s been thinking about your predicament.” He rubs Titus’s head gently. “I . . . believe he feels guilty about taking the Superboy mantle away from you.”

Kon sits up straighter, about to do what, he doesn’t know; but then a hand on his shoulder makes him stop and glance up. Tim is looking at Damian, focused, eyes intent. It takes Kon a moment to go back at the kid, who’s frowning at the cookie in his hand. He thinks for a second.

“He shouldn’t; he’s doing a great job, better than I ever did, really.” Damian glances up, still chewing on his lip, and Kon continues, “But I’ll talk to him about it.” He grins. “Thanks.”

The kid blinks and nods slowly. Tim squeezes his shoulder gently, and if Kon leans into it a bit, Tim doesn’t say anything. Damian, despite the haze of the cold in his eyes, picks up on it though and gives Kon a miniscule eyebrow raise when Tim turns around to shut off the boiling water.

Kon goes very still as Damian’s gaze flickers between him and Tim, his brain coming up with all sorts of images that involve kryptonite and swords and he's already died once, he doesn't feel like doing it again, thanks. Damian gives him a narrow-eyed appraising look, and Kon gets a hollowing feeling that a pros and cons list is forming about his existence and all he can do is watch as it's debated over.

Then Damian dips his head the tiniest bit and goes back to feeding Titus his cookie.

His chest relaxes. Damian looks up at him again, the sharp, calculating stare gone, replaced with something almost contemplative.

“Jon also came up with a few names you could use.”

Oh, Kon is going to absolutely smother his little brother with hugs the next time he sees him.

Damian gives Kon a thoughtful glance before continuing, “Though he did have a favorite.”

Tim sets down two mugs of tea in front of them, and leans forward on the counter with his forearms, hands clasped around his own cup. Kon can see the outline of his shoulder blades through his threadbare shirt. “What is it?”

Damian reaches for his mug. “I believe it was called ‘Supernova.’”

Huh.

Tim looks up at Kon with a smile and a shrug. “I mean, I’m personally still a fan of Superdude, but that’s pretty good too, I guess.”

Kon snorts into his drink and Titus whines for another treat. Damian scoffs and hops down from the stool, cookie and tea in hand, and starts walking back to the hallway. Tim rolls his eyes and picks up the cookie tin to put it away. When his back is turned, Damian shoots Kon a puzzled look and glances between him and Tim again before muttering something in Arabic and turning out of the room.

“Go to sleep.” Tim calls after him, and Kon hears a disgruntled ‘tt’ and a sneeze as Titus follows the boy into the hall. Tim leans back on the counter next to the stove and takes a sip of his tea. “That went much better than I expected.”

Kon grins at him and lets his head drop back. The mug is cooling in his hands, and he wouldn’t mind taking a nap right now.

“I’m still calling you Superdude.” Kon’s not sure if he’d rather kick his best friend out the door or fly through the nearest window. Tim laughs at whatever expression is on Kon’s face. “Seriously though, you need a new outfit. Or at least one that’s waterproof.”

Right. 'Cause Kon’s still in his damp costume that smells like Gotham’s streets which is not the greatest thing ever, and warm clothes sound like a really nice idea. Tim takes Kon’s mug and puts the cups in the dishwasher. “Come on, I think I might have something that you can wear after all.”

Kon slides off the island and follows Tim out of the warm kitchen and up the huge flight of stairs that lead to the second floor and Tim’s bedroom.

He tries not to examine the pictures on the walls, but as they walk his gaze flickers to them anyway. The photos are authentic; bright moments captured by Tim’s camera and hung in the open halls of the Manor with pride.

Kon doesn’t know a lot about photography, but he does know that Tim is good. Really good. Able to snap little snippets of life and set them in frames in a way that's real. He could probably go professional if he wanted to, instead of the current CEO thing. Though Tim seems more than gleefull in torturing greasy businessmen, including Lex which still makes Kon nearly cackle, in the boardroom.

Then he spots several photos that contain other people than just the Waynes.

There’s one of Clark, Diana, and Bruce in a city park, though Bruce’s smile seems a little strained since the other two had basically forced him into a hug. Another that shows Wally graduating from Stanford, arms wrapped around Dick’s and Donna’s shoulders, laughing at some inside joke. Roy dozing on a couch in the library with Jason on the floor next to him, nose buried in a book.

There’s even one with Krypto, the dog nearly buried under Titus with Alfred the cat snoozing at his paws.

He can’t help but stare at that picture and wonder how the hell Tim managed to creep up on the superdog without waking him. Maybe Krypto had heard him but hadn’t been concerned. Besides, the dog likes Tim.

Kon’s eyes glance over the photos again, before looking at where Tim is walking up ahead. He pauses for a second.

Are there any pictures of him?

He shakes his head slightly and goes down the hall.

Tim opens his door and Kon can’t help but let out a little breath of air like he always does when he sees Tim’s room. It’s big, and Tim has his own bathroom, den, living area, balcony, and, most importantly, a giant flat-screen TV to play video games on. But Tim ignores all that and goes over to a dresser, Kon in tow, and begins rifling through the drawers, looking for something. Kon floats a bit, hands in his pockets.  

Then Tim holds up an article of clothing triumphantly and Kon’s brain stops working.

“Told you that you lose your shirts.” Tim grins at him, but Kon only manages a blink in return.

Because that is a Superboy shirt. One of his Superboy shirts. Tim has one of his shirts. Tim could have been wearing his shirt. Kon barely manages to catch the reason for his inner meltdown when Tim tosses the stupid thing at him.

He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” Tim looks at him, amused.

“Dude, I have, like, four.”

Kon is fucked. He is so irrevocably fucked.

“How did I not notice—”

“So many shirts, Kon. You go through. So. Many. Shirts.”

“But how did you even get them?”

Tim shrugs almost sheepishly. “I don’t know. They just kinda appeared in my closet.” Kon nods dazedly and Tim frowns. “Don’t have any pants that will fit you though.”

“I’ll wear my boxers.”

Tim looks at him for a moment and stands up, stretching lazily. “So, whatcha wanna do?”

Kon stares at him and Tim grins and walks over to the TV console. Kon kicks off his shoes and begins to unbuckle his belt as Tim looks over his collection of games.

It kinda feels like they’re replaying a memory from before Kon died. Putting in a disc, hands wrapping around a controller; he’s pretty sure the night will play out with the same old bickering and arguments. Just like they’re sixteen again and everyone they care about is alive and only a phone call away.

But now there’s the tension from earlier creeping back into the air. Also, Kon is taking off his pants.

He snickers to himself.

Tim is calling out game suggestions, and Kon is really only half paying attention to the names. He pulls off his damp t-shirt and folds his clothes before putting them on the dresser because Ma’s tidiness habits seem to be wearing off on him.  

He wonders if there’ll be pancakes by the time he’s up. Hopefully, there will be because Alfred’s cooking is to die for. Healthier than Ma’s, sure, and not quite as hearty, but still mouthwatering.

It takes him a second to realize that Tim is no longer talking.

Kon glances up and freezes.

Tim is staring at him, eyes roaming over his body with an expression that Kon can’t quite place and hasn’t ever seen before on the other boy. His gaze dips over Kon’s collar bone and down to the muscles on his chest and stomach, lingering. He meets Kon’s stare, and Kon can barely breathe because Tim’s eyes are sorta dark and intense and they’re pinning him to the ground.

He holds Kon's gaze evenly, and though Kon's aware of the fact that he shouldn’t be listening, Tim’s heartbeat fills his ears, fast and steady.

Tim looks down at his hands, and Kon knows he’s not imagining the slight flush on Tim’s face as he lifts up one particular game they haven’t played in years.

“MarioKart?”

Kon’s mouth is dry.

“Sure.”

He pulls on the Superboy shirt; it’s old and tight around his chest and shoulders. He ignores it and makes his way to sit down next to Tim.

They don’t say anything as Tim slides in the disc and the intro music begins to play. Kon fiddles with his controller as they select their usual characters. The colored light flashes across Tim’s face, highlighting his cheekbones and pooling shadow at the column of his throat. He has a freckle under his left ear.

Kon keeps wrecking on the screen in front of them, but Tim doesn’t seem to care too much because it’s not brought up.

Tim shoves him off of Rainbow Road, and this is the part where Kon is supposed to attack the other boy with a pillow in retaliation, but he only spawns again and keeps playing. Tim doesn’t look at him.

It’s too quiet to be anything like when they were sixteen.

He can almost feel the tightrope they’ve been balancing on straining.

Eventually, Kon stretches his neck back and closes his eyes. There’s the sound of a car crash in the game and he knows it isn't his. Cautiously, Kon peeks one of his eyelids open and sees Tim staring at the ceiling like it owes him an explanation for why his life is going the way it is.

Kon hits the pause button and lies onto his back. He takes an unsteady breath. Another. Ma’s words bounce around in his head.

“We need to talk.”

Tim lies down next to him but doesn’t glance over. “Yeah.” His voice is very quiet.

Kon rolls over on his side to look at him. Tim’s eyes are determinedly fixed upwards and Kon lets out a small sigh. “Hey, look at me, please.”

Slowly, Tim’s gaze moves to him. His eyes are steely blue with grey around the pupils, and they look a little lost. There are faded smudges of purple beneath them and Kon wonders how he didn’t notice that earlier. His lips twitch down.

“When was the last time you slept?” Tim opens his mouth and Kon restates his question, “I mean really slept, Tim.”

Tim closes his mouth slowly and stares at the rug underneath them. “Not for a while.”

“Why not?”

A bitter laugh leaves the other boy’s throat, “Nightmares.”

Something cold squeezes Kon’s insides. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Their tightrope sways and Kon breathes and braces himself in case it snaps.

“What are they about?”

Tim’s breathing hitches and his steel eyes close tightly. “People I care about dying. You dying. What . . . What I did after.”

After. Because before and after Kon’s death is all that seems to exist these days. And what happened after had not been pretty. Not at all.

“Tim—”

Tim jumps to his feet, hands running through his slightly damp hair and eyes looking at anything other than him. Kon sits up and watches his friend walk frantically back and forth in front of the TV.

“Look, you don’t have to do this, Kon. You don’t—I’m—I’m fucked up. And I know I’m back with the team and we’ve been working together, but you don’t have to do this—” Tim gestures at the space between them vaguely—“if it freaks you out. If I freak you out. I did some messed up shit, Kon, you don’t have to stay.”

Tim doesn’t stop pacing as Kon slowly stands, the thick rug soft under his feet.

“And I get it. Really, I get it. I went—I went crazy without you. I mean, I fucking tried to clone you and now—” Tim's eyes are a little red, and he shakes his head at the ceiling—“It’s like we’re playing pretend, like everything is okay when it’s not. It’s not. I’m not. And you know that so why are you even still here?” Tim whirls around, hands splayed to the room.

Kon takes a small step towards him, palms open, like he's approaching a scared animal. The tightrope wobbles. “Because you’ve always been there for me; because you’re my friend.”

Another step and Tim’s staring at him almost in pain. “I’m not the same person I was, Kon. I—” Tim looks away, closes his eyes hard—“I can’t be the same kind of friend that you want.”

And that makes Kon pause because there could be something to unpack with that.

Tim’s cheekbones might be flushing, it’s hard to tell with the only light coming from their abandoned game, and Kon hopes they are. He really fucking hopes Tim’s implying what he thinks he’s implying. Carefully, he murmurs, “Do you think I’m the same too? Do you really think that after all the shit I’ve been through, I’d even want to be the same?” He moves closer. “That I’d want us to be the same?”

Tim goes very still like he’s never thought of this before. The tightrope swings dangerously above the chasm of complicated feelings and Kon feels like it’s rushing up to meet them with all the grace and speed of a runaway train.

The multicolored lights from the game play across Tim’s face. He watches them for a moment.

“Tim, listen, I’m still here whether you think I should be or not. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You haven’t scared me away, Rob. You’re not getting rid of me. I’m not leaving—not again.” Tim’s eyes are wide and Kon takes another tiny step towards him.

Tim is giving him a look, like what Kon’s saying makes a bit of sense before he sighs and shuts his eyes. “How are you so . . . ”

They’re really close now, and Kon can see the flickering of Tim’s eyelashes. His gaze drops down a little bit to Tim’s parted lips. “So?” Tim’s eyes open and he shakes his head slightly and doesn’t continue. He’s staring at Kon’s mouth, and Kon sees his tongue flash across his bottom lip, making it wet.

Fuck it, Kon thinks, and he leaps off the tightrope.

Tim tastes like peppermint tea, and he doesn’t move when Kon threads one of his hands through his hair and kisses him fiercely.

And Kon sorta hates himself a little bit, because there’s no way they’d still be able to be best friends after this if he misread everything. Sure, they could try, but Kon knows that it’ll all be forced and even more awkward than this entire evening has been, and one of the greatest friendships in his life is now lying possibly ruined on Tim’s bedroom floor.

He pulls away, a billion apologies already thundering through his head but they all stick in his throat, and he looks at the ground. Tim stares at him, eyes round.

“Shit, I’m so—”

Tim hauls him forward by his too-tight shirt and kisses him.

Oh.

Kon’s hands seem to understand what’s going on much faster than his brain because they’re quickly sliding back into Tim’s hair and along Tim’s neck and are tracing his jaw, and Tim is groaning, or maybe that’s Kon, it’s kinda hard to tell. Tim’s fingers grasp the Superboy logo at his chest, and his other hand presses against the side of Kon’s face. His thumb brushes Kon’s cheekbone and Kon makes another noise.

One of Kon’s hands slides down to grip Tim’s waist, pulling him closer until Tim is fully up against him; his muscles truly relaxed for the first time since God knows how long. Tim nips at Kon’s bottom lip then Kon’s mouth parts open and Tim’s tongue is in his mouth, and somebody taught Tim how to kiss because he’s really good at it.

Kon sends that somebody a silent thank you as the other boy’s lips suddenly escape Kon’s and move to his throat. Leaving him to pant against Tim's ear, more than slightly disoriented.

He's never wanted like this before, not with Cassie, not with Tana. Never wanted to touch and feel and know like he wants right now. Maybe it's because of all the built-up tension, but there's something so amazingly right about this. About the way Tim’s tongue traces down his neck, ending the trail with a small bite that Kon is sure would bruise if he was human, but only makes him drop his head back and groan.

He feels Tim grin against neck and Kon drags a palm up Tim’s back, under his shirt. Tim shivers, and now Kon’s the one who’s grinning as he brings his head back down to nip at Tim’s ear. He’s granted another shudder when he soothes the sting with his tongue, and Kon files away that interesting information for later.

Tim’s back is littered with scars, and even though Kon has seen them in the showers, he’s never gotten to touch them, and his fingers begin to map out where old battle wounds have healed over. He plays with the hem of Tim’s shirt, tugging lightly, and wonders if Tim’s even okay with going that far. Cause Kon’s totally fine with what they’re doing right now if Tim isn’t cool with losing clothes yet—

Tim takes a step back and for a second Kon’s about to apologize, but Tim only rips off his t-shirt, gaze hot blue steel and completely fixed on him.

Jesus.

The sound that leaves Kon’s throat might be a whimper as the other boy immediately goes back to kissing his nape. And there’s bare skin now, and Tim’s rolling his hips, and Kon wouldn’t mind moving to a horizontal surface. Or a wall.

Honestly, he’s pretty sure he could pull off something in the air if he wanted to.

He’s also definitely hard now. Definitely.

Their mouths meet and Tim is laughing into him before pulling back just enough so that Kon can look at his eyes. They’re amused and full of something that Kon can’t put into the right words at the moment.

Tim laughs again before murmuring against his jaw, “You’re floating.”

Kon blinks.

He looks at his feet and, yeah, he’s an inch or two off the ground, hovering from excitement. He lowers himself down, and his ears feel hot, but Tim’s still grinning at him so he’s not too embarrassed.

Kon kisses him again and then one of Tim’s hands interlocks with his and tugs him in the direction of the bedroom.

They end up falling against a wall just outside of the doorway, Kon’s shoulders pressing into the drywall while Tim’s hands play with the edge of his boxers. Tim pulls away suddenly, brows making a little crease as he brings them together.

“Is this okay?”

Kon bobs his head up and down, breathless and giddy. “This is very much okay. Trust me, I am so, so okay with this.”

Tim grins, and it’s so goddamn real, and hauls him into his room.

He barely notices the paper-covered desk on one side and the big skylights on the ceiling. There’s only Tim, smiling warmly in the dark with the pitter-patter of the rain above as they stumble their way to the bed.

Kon’s back hits the mattress, Tim’s knees on either side of his waist, and he’s pressing Kon into the sheets, mouth hot and wet. One of Kon’s hand drops to Tim’s ass and tugs the other boy down so that the space between them disappears, and fuck Tim’s just as hard as he is and a startled moan comes out of one of them.

The kiss breaks when Tim leans back, and all of his weight is right on Kon’s dick, and Kon couldn’t keep his hips from bucking up even if he wanted to. Tim’s reaching for the bottom of his Superboy shirt, pulling it off so it lands on the floor and thank God for Kon’s TTK; because when Tim leans up on his knees, Kon’s able to slip his shorts off without having to move his hands from Tim’s hair.

For a second, all Kon can do is stare.

Tim is skin and scars above him, and there’s a slash of healing red on his thigh, like he’d been cut there at some recent point. His cock is slender and long and flushed a darker pink than the blush on his cheeks. Kon distantly wonders what it might taste like.

Tim raises an eyebrow and snaps the elastic of Kon’s boxers.

Kon shivers and then laughs when he flips them over and Tim yelps as he hits the bed.

It barely takes a second for Tim to recover and scowl up at Kon who grins in response. Then Tim’s hands are dragging down Kon’s ass, taking his underwear with them. Kon kicks the clothes off the bed and turns back to see Tim’s eyes moving over his body until they meet Kon’s gaze.

The hunger from earlier fades a bit.

He stares at Tim for a second, at the small smile on his face, and feels warmth spread all the way down to his fingertips.

Slowly, Tim lifts his head and presses his lips against Kon’s, still tasting like tea. One of his hands reaches up to Kon’s hair, tugging it gently, and Kon lowers himself until their bodies are lined up and he can feel the slide of Tim’s cock against his own. A shaky moan falls from Tim’s open mouth, and Kon shudders against him. He forces his thoughts to line up coherently.

"Lube?" He manages, and Tim is nodding against his neck before arching back to rummage through the nightstand next to the bed. The motion gives both of them some more amazing friction and Kon's grip tightens as Tim's hips jerk against him. The other boy mutters something, too low for Kon to clearly make out as he half grabs the lube and half continues to grind up in these little, smooth movements that are going to drive Kon insane.

Finally, Tim is pressing the bottle into his hand, and Kon focuses on uncapping the stupid thing while Tim snickers at his clumsiness beneath him. And Kon would be embarrassed, except this is Tim so he's laughing too; and he moves his hand from his friend’s jaw, down to the open bottle, and then further to take Tim in his now wet palm.

“Fuck.” There’s a groan against his neck, and Tim knots his hands further into Kon’s hair.

Tim is pulsing in his hand, heavy and solid, and Kon drops the lube because he’s so caught up in the feeling. Kon lets his thumb circle the tip of the other boy’s leaking cock before beginning to stroke up and down the length of it. Tim trembles.

“We should do this again,” Kon says conversationally, and Tim lightly slaps the back of his head. Kon twists his fist in retaliation and that makes Tim’s hips stutter and his back arch again.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Tim’s voice is wrecked, gasping out the words, and he really wouldn’t mind making Tim sound like this more often.

His hand moves faster, and Tim is pushing back, thrusting up against Kon’s fist, heels digging into the bedsheets. He brings his mouth to where Tim’s neck meets his shoulder, licking before biting down. Tim cries out, and Kon’s dick twitches in response because holy shit that’s hot.

He uncurls his grasp and runs his fingers up the underside of Tim’s cock. A string of curses streams out of Tim’s mouth, along with what Kon’s pretty sure is his name. He repeats the motion, watching the way Tim's pants are becoming more and more ragged. Kon moves his head lower, lips trailing to one nipple, and he breathes over it wetly before flicking his tongue out and tasting skin.

Tim’s hands clutch at his hair as Kon marks his way across his chest, and Kon knows he’s close, can feel the way Tim is shaking and gripping on to him harder than before. He brushes his fingers against Tim's cock again, too gentle to really grant any relief.

“Damnit, Kon, please!”  And how could he say no to that?

It takes three hard strokes to make Tim gasp and come, white spilling into Kon’s hand and onto their stomachs.

Tim slumps into the mattress, eyes closed, sprawled open, chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Kon presses his thumb over the slit of Tim’s dick and the other boy whines shakily and gives a little roll of his hips, face glazing with pleasure.

Then, Tim blinks up at him, still completely blissed out, and Kon sears that sight into his memory. Without looking away, Kon passes his fingers through the mess on his stomach and brings them to his mouth. His tongue curls around one fingertip and Tim’s eyes flicker with the motion. It doesn’t taste that bad. A bit bitter and salty, maybe, but the narrowing of Tim’s stare is totally worth it.

The ache between his legs throbs.

Tim smirks up at him.

Kon is flipped onto his back, Tim doing some crazy Bat-move to get him there, and he blinks up at the skylights, Tim nowhere in sight. Then he feels strong hands on his thighs and a breath over his hip and oh.

That’s where he went.

Tim’s mouth is hot and wet and fucking amazing, and Kon has never been so thankful that Damian’s room is nowhere near Tim’s and that the house is nearly empty. His moan is loud enough that there’s no way someone wouldn’t hear him. He manages to lift his neck to look down at where Tim’s tongue is wrapping around the head of his cock and meets Tim’s smooth gaze. There’s a smug glint in his eyes, and now Tim’s mouth is going lower, taking in more, and Kon nearly sobs.

One of his hands reaches down, palming dark hair and rubbing Tim’s head with his fingers. Tim hums, and the vibrations from that one single sound make Kon’s hips jerk and his dick slide into Tim’s throat a little further. And this is definitely something they need to do again, because it's so good and Kon wants.

He wants and fuck, fuck how is Tim fucking Drake somehow a goddamn wet dream in bed? How?

Kon’s other hand scrabbles at the pillows above him, trying to anchor himself, but that’s hard to do when Tim is doing something with his tongue that makes Kon nearly start begging when he pulls away. He looks back down where Tim's lips have left his dick and been replaced with his hand, since Tim is now biting the insides of his thighs. A small part of Kon curses at his skin's stupid invulnerability because the thought of being covered in bruises left from Tim's mouth is ridiculously hot.

Suddenly he feels intense heat in the back of his eyes, his vision turning red at the edges, and Kon screws his stare shut. He does not want to set Tim on fire during the middle of a blow job. That would be so uncool.

He hears Tim laugh at him from between his legs, so he lightly shoves at his friend's side with his foot. Tim's mouth goes back to his cock and Kon groans.

His fingers tangle in the other boy’s hair. “Tim—”

Tim only sucks harder.

Kon arches and comes with a loud curse. Distantly he feels Tim swallow, and that causes him to shiver, grind his hips up into Tim’s mouth just a bit. He rubs his eyes, the heat vision already fading away. His body feels loose, good.

Tim pulls off of his cock and sits up, wiping at the corner of his mouth, and Kon blinks at him, dazed.

His hair is messy from Kon’s hands and damp with sweat, sticking to the corners of his face. His nape, chest, and shoulders are littered with several marks that are definitely gonna bruise, and that makes Kon feel oddly pleased with himself.

Tim is watching him, rubbing his thumb in little circles over Kon’s hipbone, lips twitched upwards. Kon doesn't really want to move, so he tugs at Tim’s hand gently until the other boy leans down, grabs his shorts off the bed, and cleans up the mess on their skin. This isn’t quite what Kon wants, and he makes a dissatisfied noise and tugs again. Tim rolls his eyes and throws the clothing to a corner of the room before lying on top of Kon, muttering, “Like you’d want to be covered with that while you’re sleeping.”

Kon doesn’t bother answering, and only buries his face into Tim’s shoulder, grinning. Tim still smells a bit like rain and body wash, but now there’s a linger of sex over that, and Kon runs his hands up and down Tim’s warm back, breathing him in.

Tim exhales against his neck and plays with the slightly curly strands of hair at the base of Kon’s head.

Kon practically melts into the pillows.

Tim goes stiff in his arms.

“This—” Tim sits up, legs entangled with Kon’s, and puts a hand on Kon's bare chest—“This isn’t a one-time thing, right?” Tim’s voice is a guilty whisper, scared almost, as if Kon is already regretting what just happened. “You’re not going to leave?”

Kon stares at him for a second, disbelief and hurt curling around his heart.

Then he remembers all the funerals that Tim’s had to go to in the past year. He remembers the one time he went to Tim’s house, back when his parents were both still alive, and how empty it was. He remembers asking Tim where his folks were, and how Tim had gotten very quiet before shrugging and muttering that he didn’t know.

Slowly, Kon sits up, Tim still in his lap, and examines the other boy’s face.

“Hey, I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

Tim sags against him, like the weight of the world has slid right off his shoulders. “That was a stupid question.”

“It wasn’t.” Kon brushes back a piece of hair that fell in front of Tim’s forehead. He kisses him softly. “I get it. It wasn’t.”

He doesn’t move until Tim nods in agreement.

Kon pulls him back down and uses his TTK to slide the thick covers over them. Tim shifts around so they can meet each other’s gaze. Something snags in the back of Kon’s mind.

“Ma wants you to come over for dinner, by the way.”

Tim laughs, the sound soft in the dark.

“Sure.”

Kon reaches over and smooths his thumb across Tim’s cheek, still flushed from earlier, before kissing him again. Tim makes a pleased noise and returns the action, his hand going to Kon’s waist to tug him closer.

They break apart, dropping back onto the pillows, Kon’s fingers tracing over the scars on Tim’s arm. Tim blinks sleepily at him but raises a brow. “So, are you going with that name Jon made up?” He brushes back several strands of Kon’s hair. “Supernova?”

Kon closes his eyes and leans into Tim’s palm. “Has a nice ring to it.”

Tim nods, tapping his fingertips against Kon’s temple thoughtfully.

“Whatever you say, Superdude.”

Kon whacks him with a pillow.

*****

When he opens his eyes, he can’t speak.

He can’t speak because there are tubes in his throat, up his nose, pumping him with oxygen. The steady humming of droning machines fills his ears. He stares.

Everything’s green, but not like the green of Ma’s spring flowers, this green is sick and presses down on him from all sides. And he’s surrounded by something wet and slimy, little bubbles rising past his face like he's in a fish tank. He tries to shake his head, but everything feels heavy even though he's only suspended in the liquid around him. Blurry figures walk towards him, muffled voices fading in and out.

There’s the sound of thudded tapping on the glass. He starts to focus, but still isn’t able to blink the wet stuff out of his eyes.

He sees white coats, Cadmus printed on the pocket.

Fuck, fuck.

“Kon?”

There’s a beam of light shining in his face, causing the green to glow, almost like kryptonite but so much worse. It makes him want to throw up. Want to run.

“Kon.”

There's something else too, moving in on him from the corners of his eyes. Something creeping and peaceful, heavy and familiar in the worst way.

He remembers it, how it settled down on him as he lay surrounded by crushed metal and begging friends, his bones broken, lungs gasping with final breaths. It had been dark and calm and he hadn't wanted to go, but it had closed in on him anyway. And he can't go back, he can't.

There's a fist pounding in front of him, and the voices don't match the furious knocking, too cold and clean.

He tries to thrash away from the glass, tries to get away. But he can’t move, weighed down, and even though there’s air in his lungs, he can’t breathe.

“Conner!”

Kon's back hits the mattress and he shoots up, gulping down mouthfuls of oxygen. There are hands running over his back, his shoulders, a worried voice somewhere behind him. His eyes flit around his surroundings. No green, no waiting darkness. He can breathe. Raindrops are hitting the glass above him. Tim’s room. Safe.

This is safe.

He runs a sweaty hand through his hair, shaking. His arm brushes his cheek and he realizes that his face is wet. He hasn’t had one of those dreams in a long time; he’d forgotten what they were like.

“Hey.” Kon looks behind him. Tim is rubbing a spot between his shoulder blades, eyes alert, biting his lip. The sheets are pooled around his waist haphazardly.

Kon twists the patterned covers in his hands.

“What happened?”

He looks up through the dark. Tim’s fingers go over his shoulder. “Nightmare.” He wants to forget it. Forget the labs, and the endless experiments, and all the goddamn green. “Cadmus.”

Tim doesn’t make any sounds, but Kon can almost hear his brain whirring at full speed.

His breathing is too loud in the quiet.

“What do you need?” Tim’s voice is patient.

He fists the cloth in his grip. Opens his mouth, shuts it. Tries again. “Just—Keep doing that.” Tim’s hands run down his skin, grounding and warm, and Kon begins to relax into them.

“Does touch help?” Tim is near his ear, and Kon feels lips press lightly across his neck. He nods.

“Yeah, it—It helps me feel . . . “ He shuts his eyes. “Human. It helps me feel human.”

Tim places a kiss at the corner of his jaw. “Okay.” He presses his back against Tim’s scarred chest, and the other boy leans backward so they’re lying down again. Kon rests his head over where Tim’s heart is beating steadily. He listens to the familiar sound, to the rain, to Tim's breathing; ignores the distant honks of traffic and chattering crowds of Gotham.

He exhales slowly, lets his shoulders loosen under Tim's hands. He closes his eyes.

“Thanks.”

Fingers run through his hair.

“You’re welcome.”

Kon doesn’t move for a long time. Neither does Tim.

*****

It’s still raining when Kon wakes up the second time, but there’s a bit of grey sunlight coming through the skylights; enough for him to drowsily blink at the ceiling. He groans and rolls over, towards the warmth by his side.

Warmth.

Tim.

He’s completely awake now, lifting himself up onto his forearms. Curiously, Kon examines the boy next to him. Tim’s still asleep, heartbeat slow and calm, his back facing Kon though their legs are tangled together. The covers had slipped a bit during the night and Kon can see the pale scars his mouth had mapped out hours ago.

He touches a jagged one, curved like someone had carved it in, and smooths his fingertip down it. He moves to the next. Distantly, Kon wonders if he’d get to go over all of them, even if that could take a while because Tim has so many. He doesn’t mind. His fingers trace across an old bullet wound.

Saturday mornings can last a while.

Tim shifts, back leaving Kon’s touch, shoulders rolling into a stretch. He watches the muscles under Tim’s skin bunch together and move apart. His friend flops over to look at him.

Tim's eyelids are drooping as he yawns into his pillow. “What time is it?”

Kon lifts himself up and glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. “Eightish." Before he lies back down, his eyes catch on a little picture frame next to the clock.

It's a recent photo, he can tell from the haircut he has in it, and he can easily place the day when it was taken.

Bart had insisted on dragging them with him to go shopping for dorm furniture, which Kon didn't understand considering the extremely tiny size of Bart's room at Keystone University, but whatever. They had stopped for ice cream, sat outside and watched people stroll by.

He doesn't remember the exact moment from the picture itself, maybe Bart had said something funny or maybe one of Tim's dry quips had sent them all into laughter. Either way, it ended with a photo that Cassie must have taken; with Bart leaning inside the frame with a huge grin on his face, him with his head thrown back, smiling, and Tim laughing at both of them.

He stares at it, feels a dopey smile stretch across his face.    

Tim hums, watching Kon lazily. “I forgot that you sleepfloat.”

His eyes flick back to Tim.

“I what?”

“Sleepfloat.” Tim lifts the one brow that’s not burrowed into his pillow and gestures vaguely with his hand. “You know, you’ll start hovering sometimes, usually when you’re dreaming?” He frowns. “That’s one of the reasons I knew you were having a nightmare; you were almost half a foot off the bed. Usually, you only go up, like, barely an inch.”

Kon continues staring at him because what?

“Since when do I sleepfloat?”

Tim blinks. “Uh, since forever. It doesn't happen a lot, I thought you knew?”

He shakes his head. Tim laughs lightly, the sound muffled by fabric, and Kon sorta wants to kiss him. He also sorta wants breakfast. “Do you guys have some kind of scheduled eating time on the weekends?”

Tim ducks further under the covers. “Not really, I can ask Alfred to make something. Or we can raid the pantries.”

Kon thinks for a moment. He doesn’t know what time Alfred wakes up, but for some reason, he wants to avoid asking for anything. Wants to stay in this bubble where it’s only Tim and him for a little bit longer.

“What if we make pancakes?”

Tim’s cheeks suddenly turn red and he mumbles under his breath. Kon pokes him in the shoulder, silently asking for a repeat of the comment. The other boy sighs.

“I’m . . . currently banned from using the kitchen.”

Kon tilts his head. “We were in there last night. You made tea.”

It had been good tea. It had been especially good when he’d gotten to taste it off of Tim’s mouth.

Tim grumbles, “Fine. I’m currently banned from using the oven, stove, grill, and microwave for anything other than boiling water.”

Kon's eyes narrow. “What did you do?”

Tim hesitates. “I may have created several small, controlled explosions.”

“You what?”

“They were small.”

“Oh my God, that’s not the point.” Kon’s kinda snickering now, and Tim is too, and Kon really wants to kiss him again. So he does.

Tim’s smiling when he pulls away, and Kon presses their foreheads together. “How about I make us food, yeah?” Their noses brush and Tim’s arms wrap around his neck. His lips move against Kon’s when he nods in agreement.

“Yeah.”

Their legs intertwine even more, and the next kiss is heated, Tim’s hands dragging across Kon’s skin in a way that reminds him of last night. He resists the urge to push their hips completely together. When they break for air, Tim’s cheekbones are lightly flushed, and he’s smirking in a way that makes Kon remember the grin bad guys see right before Red Robin turns all their careful plans to shit.

Tim pushes Kon over onto his back, lips suddenly much more demanding, and straddles his waist. Kon kisses him back just as fervently, mouth following Tim’s a bit when the other boy suddenly pulls away.

Tim’s eyes are catching the cool morning light in all the right ways and Kon’s heart trips over its feet.

Then Tim isn't on his lap, sliding off the bed and walking away. And okay, that’s a bit rude, but Kon gets to stare at Tim’s ass, so he’s not going to complain just yet. But then Tim tosses him a grin over his shoulder, meeting Kon’s gaze smugly before reaching down and grabbing something off the floor. He comes back up, pulling on the piece of clothing smoothly.

Kon’s mouth drops open.

Tim gives him an amused glance, seemingly unconcerned with the Superboy logo stretching across his chest. Because apparently, Tim has filled out enough that he can now wear Kon’s old shirts without drowning in fabric. When that happened, Kon has no idea, but he certainly doesn’t mind.

Tim cocks an eyebrow. “Pancakes? You coming or not?”

Kon tries to make words leave his throat, but only manages a strangled, “Hngh.” Tim nods, like this is an answer, pivots on his foot, and leaves the room. Kon stares after him. He buries his burning face in his hands.

It’s too early for Tim to do things like this to him.

With a sigh of resignation, he gets off the bed and, after some searching, puts on his boxers. When he walks out of the doorway, he’s hit in the face with a large Gotham Knights sweatshirt and his jeans. He shoots Tim a displeased grunt and tugs the sweatshirt over his head. Tim’s wearing some flannel pajama pants now, which is rather disappointing, but the Superboy shirt is still on so Kon takes pleasure from that.

After pulling on his no-longer-wet jeans, he floats to where Tim is leaning against the wall and kisses him in a way that would make old ladies scandalized. Tim’s face has dropped its smugness when they break apart, and he seems slightly dazed.

Kon pecks his jaw for good measure. “Food?”

He gets a slow nod in return. Kon grins and walks out of Tim’s room with a little bounce in his step. He hears Tim mutter a curse and scramble after him, and he laughs.

The light filling the Manor’s halls is weak, but it’s enough to create streaking shadows on the walls as Kon runs down the corridor with Tim hot on his heels. Their feet pound down the stairs and Kon might use a tiny bit of superspeed to get to the kitchen first.

Tim enters seconds after him and slumps against the kitchen island even though he’s barely out of breath. He points an accusing finger at Kon. “Cheater.”

Kon grins and starts opening up random cabinets, hoping to find a mixing bowl. “Maybe.” He spies one and sets it on the island. “Where’s the flour?” The other boy gestures to the pantry and then lifts himself to sit on the counter.

Kon can feel Tim’s eyes on him as he moves around the room, finding and taking the ingredients he needs. Every once in a while, their gazes meet and little smiles appear.

If he's honest with himself, Kon has no idea what this new thing between them is exactly. But he thinks it’s good. Tim glances at him again as he begins to mix the batter, eyes lighter than they’ve been in a while.

It’s pretty good.

Tim slips off his perch and pads up behind him, resting his chin on Kon’s shoulder. “Last time I watched you make pancakes was at the farm. You almost caught the house on fire.” Kon shrugs.

“Ma’s made it her personal mission that I know how to move around a kitchen. She’s had me baking and cooking a lot since I came back from—” He stops himself. Memories from the nightmare surface, cool darkness waiting for him to fall. He shivers, looks down at the pancake batter, suddenly feeling like he's going to be sick. He forces himself to take a deep breath.

Tim is stiff behind him, hands fisting into his sweatshirt, and Kon could punch himself in the face. He really could.

“Dude?”

Tim unfreezes, leans his forehead against the back of Kon’s neck. Kon can feel his fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric.

They’re quiet for several beats.

“You get it, right? That I’m not okay? Not entirely?” Tim sounds so tired like this is the kind of thing he tells himself every night, and it makes Kon’s stomach twist. He turns around, strokes his thumb over Tim’s cheekbone, makes sure that Tim is looking him in the eyes.

“Yeah, man, I understand.” He thinks of the chemical green and the even darker things that crawl into his mind during the bad nights. He shudders. “I’m not either.” He tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Is that okay with you?”

Tim examines him for a long moment; his eyes probably seeing more of Kon than Kon could see in himself. And whatever Tim sees makes him lean in a bit closer.

“Yeah, it is. And this,” he taps Kon’s chest, right above his heart, “us?”

Kon brushes back several strands of Tim’s hair, thinking carefully.

“Whatever you want. I’m good with just staying friends, though, you know, the sex could be pretty awesome.” Tim snorts. “But I wouldn’t mind taking this somewhere,” he says and laces their hands together. “I really wouldn’t mind.”

Tim smiles. “Yeah?”

Kon smiles back.

“Yeah.”

Lips press against his and Kon’s hand threads through Tim’s hair, his back pushing into the counter as Tim steps closer.

Tim laughs, his fingers going around the spoon in Kon’s drooping grasp, probably to keep pancake batter from going everywhere. There’s the clatter of wood hitting ceramic as Tim drops the spoon into the bowl, and Kon distantly wonders if they’ll ever actually get around to eating breakfast.

But Tim’s mouth is lazy and open and a hell of a lot better than pancakes.

He drapes his arms around Tim's neck as the other boy's palms smooth around his waist, drawing him closer.  

So much better than pancakes.

“It seems that I will be tasked to make my own breakfast since you two seem quite intent on being occupied.”

Kon’s lips leave Tim's and his head whips to where Damian is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and mouth an unimpressed line.

Shit.

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He desperately looks back at Tim, who seems just as surprised since he only manages a weak, “Um.”

Damian sniffles and Alfred the cat waltzes into the room and rubs around the boy’s legs. Damian leans down and picks the cat up, managing to keep his narrowed eyes on them the whole time. Tim’s hands still haven’t moved from where they’d just begun playing with the hair at Kon’s nape, his fingers rubbing at the base of Kon’s neck. It’s a little distracting. Kon tries to think of something to say and clears his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, you want pancakes?”

Damian raises an eyebrow and pets the top of Alfred’s head. “Later, perhaps. Both of you appear . . . busy. Besides, I need to tell Pennyworth that he won our bet from last night, considering how I thought it’d take you two another week to figure yourselves out.”

Kon blinks. “You . . . made a bet on us?”

The kid nods almost regretfully. “Which I have unfortunately lost.” His sharp eyes stare at the batter pointedly. “Though you could make up for it with food. I prefer chocolate chips in my pancakes, don’t forget.”

Slowly, Kon bobs his head up and down. “Yeah, sure.”

Damian flashes him what might be a tiny smile, but then he turns on his heel and walks out of the room, footsteps and Alfred’s purrs echoing down the hall.

Tim’s gaze clears, and Kon can see his brain rebooting. Then Tim shoots him a disgruntled look. “Aren’t Supers supposed to have super hearing?”

Kon shrugs. “I was distracted.”

Tim shakes his head at the ceiling while his hands run through Kon’s hair. Kon places a kiss on his neck.

Tim swats the back of his head. “New rule: No making out when siblings or parents could be lurking behind corners.”

Kon grumbles, “You have too many siblings for that to be realistic.”

“That’s true.” His lips press against Tim’s throat again, and he feels Tim breathe in a shaky laugh. “I take it back. The new rule is not to get caught making out when siblings or parents could be lurking behind corners.”

“You may wish to add butlers to that as well, Master Timothy.”

They leap apart.

Kon’s eyes dart to where Alfred is standing by the entrance to the dining room, not looking very impressed. He can feel his face quickly growing hot under the man’s unreadable stare, and he folds his hands behind his back like a six-year-old who had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Tim mutters something under his breath as his hand rubs the back of his neck, and the old man’s brow lifts.

“Would you care to repeat that, Master Timothy?”

Tim straightens up, and Kon can see the tips of ears are bright red. “No?”

“That’s what I thought.” He turns to Kon calmly. “And how are you, Mr. Kent?” Kon’s eyes flicker to where Tim is looking like he wants to jump off a cliff in mortification. His lips twitch upwards just a little, he hears an impatient cough. He glances back to Alfred nervously.

When did the old butler get so scary?

“Pretty good, um,” he distantly remembers something from last night, “Ma wants to ask for your snickerdoodle recipe.” He resists the urge to smooth out the sweatshirt he’s wearing as Alfred studies him. He gives a weak smile. “She’s offered to give you her instructions for blueberry pie as an incentive.”

Alfred considers him for a moment.

“Well, then I suppose I shall have to talk to her then.” He gives them both a knowing side-eye. “And do remember that the kitchen is for food and that there are plenty of private rooms in this house for more . . . lascivious activities.”

Kon wishes he could sink into the floor.

Tim drops his face in his hands. “Thanks, Alfred,” he mumbles.

Alfred brushes an invisible speck of dust off of his sleeve. “Now, excuse me, I do believe I have a wager to collect from Master Damian.” He begins to walk out of the room but stops and gives Kon a smart glance. “And please make sure that Master Timothy doesn’t start any more fires in this kitchen than he already has, Mr. Kent.”

Tim’s head shoots up with a look of betrayal and Kon has to bite his lip to keep from sniggering.

“Yes, sir.”

Alfred’s steps are unruffled as he continues into the hall. “Considering how I’m sure you’ll be around this house much more often, you may as well as call me Alfred.”

Kon’s face grows warmer.

“Um, sure thing, Alfred.”

The butler dips his head in approval and leaves. Kon can hear him begin to whistle a cheerful tune a couple of rooms away.

It takes both of them several seconds to be able to look at each other. Tim’s cheeks puff out as he exhales slowly, his ears are still pink. Kon rubs the hardwood floor with his toe. “So, uh . . . Huh.”

“We need to work on your multitasking. Things like using your super hearing while you’re . . . being distracted.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Shut it, Superdude, and make our food.”

“That rhymed.”

“I don’t know why I like you.”

“I’ll remind you exactly why later tonight.”

Tim smacks him with a dish towel, and Kon laughs before kissing him again.

[maverick-werewolf]

Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends - Preview, “Waking the Dragon”

Colored interior Illustration from Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends, drawn by Justin R Stebbins

It’s almost time! Well, relatively. Pretty soon, though! Are you excited? I’m nervous, personally. Maybe just a little excited.

This preview features not only Caiden Voros and Gwen Vergil, the protagonists of the book, but also Tom Drake, someone else you might be a little familiar with from my blog... and someone who, as you might also know, becomes a werewolf not too long after this story takes place!

So here’s another preview (a little late; sorry about that!) for my upcoming story collection, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends. It’s a book, but it’s something in-between a novel and a short story collection.

Each story is individual and stands on its own, but they also go in order and build upon each other. So I’m not sure if one should really call it a novel, but it’s also different than just unrelated short stories.

Anyway, here’s another preview - enjoy!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And remember - Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder (digital only; physical available on release date) on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

In the third section of the book, Caiden and Gwen hunt for a mysterious berserker whom the locals claim is causing trouble... and, for the first time, Caiden truly sees how hard it is to draw the line between man and monster.

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

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When they reached Eloh, they found chaos waiting for them.

Smoke. It reached him suddenly, strong and caustic. Not too long after, buildings arose on the horizon. Straw-roofed homes, fenced-in farmlands…

Many of them on fire.

Shapes moved about in the distance. Riders on horseback, likely local knights, were heading for the chaos much like them. People were stumbling into every other direction, trying to get away from the fires.

And not just the fires, but the creatures amongst them that moved so much faster than any human could. They were tall, many of them hunched like angry animals, trailing long, bestial tails as they ducked and ran. It was a grotesque sight, and for a moment Caiden couldn’t help but stop and stare – trying to figure out just what he was seeing—

Beasts turned man or man turned beasts, half concealed by smoke rolling thick and dark from the fires, as if they’d all burst straight from an Achaean’s storybook as it burnt.

The plains rang with screams. Frantic. Pitched. Helpless.

Under him, Caiden felt his horse tense. Its ears flicked back in alarm, and it huffed in protest when his heel snapped back to drive it forward. Right along with the knights and their sturdy destriers – warhorses that, unlike Caiden’s steed, didn’t flinch at cries of pain and the smell of blood. But even they hesitated at the sight of these beast-men. 

As they drew nearer, he thought he saw most of the beasts breaking off, their paths taking them through and away from the burning buildings. Away from the approaching knights. Were they fleeing?

No. Not fleeing, Caiden realized. They had simply gotten what they’d come for.

Carried under their arms, most of the monsters held struggling shapes – prisoners. Humans, the farmers who’d been living so peacefully before in these almost idyllic houses of simple straw and wood, their lives very literally going up in flames. 

“After them!” shouted the head knight, Earl Warren Drake. Blades were drawn, metal ringing and flashing in the smoke-filtered sun.

Caiden didn’t draw his blade. Instead, he pulled the crossbow from his back and loaded it, hands quick and deft. Then, he picked his target.

A monster cut through the smoke not too far ahead of him, hunkered low but carrying one human under each arm like sacks of grain. It ran at a full sprint, away from the charging knights on horseback.

These monsters were fast, even running on two legs. Two long, loping, animalistic legs, ending in great clawed feet that seemed to hit the ground without a single noise, their light gait looking almost effortless. They could outrun a human on foot, but they didn’t seem able to outstrip a galloping horse.

Caiden steadily gained on the one he chased: a monster covered in a hide of thick, dark scales, with a ridge of spikes running along its spine…

It plunged into the chaos, ducking into the remains of a collapsing building and coming out the other side even as Caiden had to stop his horse and wheel it around past the smoldering home.

The smoke grew thicker, stinging his eyes and filling his lungs. Coughing, he pulled a portion of his long cloak over one shoulder and slung it around his neck, pulling it up over his nose and mouth.

The monster, however, disappeared.

It faded into the thick haze billowing from a nearby barn, until even its silhouette was gone. Didn’t leave a trace.

“Shit.”

Picking a direction that wasn’t backward, Caiden set off again, reins in one hand and crossbow in the other, couching the stock against his shoulder. Ready to fire the instant he saw the monster again.

He burst through the thickest smoke, emerging on the far side of it. Just in time to see the monster, running for a line of dark trees not too far away now. Just in time to take aim—

And just in time for a streak of black and red to rush headlong past him, blocking his shot.

That streak was a knight, the same one trailing red-hot rage in his wake. Now he leaned low over the neck of his black horse, a long spear in one hand. All at once, he flipped his grip on the spear in one quick twirl, took aim, and threw.

His javelin cut through the light veil of smoke still hanging around them—

To fly straight into a tree. It lodged there, the head stuck firmly in the bark, as the monster disappeared into the darkness of the trees seconds before the spear struck.

The heat coming off the knight, clad in a sleeveless breastplate and horsehair helmet like a hoplite, intensified to a quick burn that made Caiden’s grip on his crossbow tighten.

And the knight snarled only one crude word: “Malakas.”

All around them, the other knights arrived, bringing with them their currents and eddies of emotion. Mostly frustration, but none pulsed as powerful as the hoplite knight with his tall, blood-red crest.

Another interior illustration preview

(More writing preview under the cut!)

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Their surroundings became darker the deeper they went. The ground turned grey, and a fine, black mist-like haze made of darkest shadow grew around their feet. Caiden removed his crossbow from his back, keeping it at the ready.

Each tree looked blacker than the last, and always with no leaves and barely a whisper of wind to rattle their dry, seemingly dead branches. Yet not one was rotten or fallen over, and thick, twisted, black roots still turned the ground treacherous. Made them have to watch their every step.

Caiden felt that the roots lowered his guard, as he had to make sure he didn’t trip, and he didn’t like it. He’d marched armies across plains, led smaller teams through cities and ruins, across mountains, and onto battlefields. He’d led men into forests a few times, sure, and he even liked to think he was pretty sure-footed. But he had never walked through anything like this.

More than once, one of his boots got stuck in a root and he had to pry it free. Others, he crunched underfoot and didn’t give it a second thought, but they weren’t half as brittle as anything dead should’ve been.

There was no smell here, either. No forest detritus, no pine needles or scent of fresh bark. Not even the smell of dirt, like the forest was a void in the world and wasn’t meant to exist. There was nothing but the silence, like what hung over a night of newfallen snow but not peaceful and not pleasant, which amplified everything he felt from the three others with him.

Like that same pull he had noticed before – not out, for once, but in. Inside him. An emptiness. Felt almost like hunger, a void waiting and wanting to be filled. But hunger, he was all too familiar with. This was something else.

And the silence in these trees only made it that much worse. There was no distraction, nothing else to turn to. Only the silence, the hunger, the curiosity, the fire, or the trepidation – the forest, himself, Sadja, Tom, or Gwen.

He didn’t like any of his options.

But as it was, he glanced back at Tom and slowed enough to walk alongside him. Tom threw him a look and glanced him up and down, like he still wasn’t sure what to make of him.

“You said you’re from Redfield, right?” Tom said. “What’d they feed you? I’ve seen Nordlings like half your size.”

Caiden huffed and didn’t answer. Meanwhile, Tom almost tripped on a root, only just catching himself before he went face-first into the faint mist floating above the ground – but not before Caiden’s hand shot out and landed on his shoulder for support.

Tom threw him a look: decidedly embarrassed, but not without a hint of surprised gratefulness. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be glad when we’re out of this malakes forest,” he added in a mutter, straightening up and trying to look like he had lost none of his pride, though Caiden felt a brief flare in the eternal burn coming off him.

After a moment, Caiden said, “What is that; Old Achaean?”

Tom gave him a look. “What?”

“That word. You’ve said it before.”

“Malaka? Yeah, that’s Old Achaean. I think you figured out the general idea of what it means, huh?”

Caiden snorted. “I’ve heard it before.” He paused. “I didn’t expect to hear Old Achaean this far north.”

“Yeah, well, we surprise you sometimes. Me especially. I’m loaded with surprises – you’ll find that out.” He furrowed his brow. “Or maybe you won’t, since they’re surprises.”

Caiden threw him a glance. “Right.”

“So if we’re trekking into creepy forests and swamps together, might as well know who has your back. Me, I grew up in Illikon my whole life, wouldn’t have had it any other way. And I’ll be a knight soon, and that will be awesome, going around and protecting people with nobody looming over your shoulder.”

Tom’s gaze drifted a little then, a small smile tugging at his lips. A lightness lifted the heavy heat in Tom’s soul, if only a little. Enough for Caiden to glimpse something underneath, though he wasn’t sure what. A warmth, gentle and kind – different from the dangerous flames that made up so much of him.

Didn’t make much sense when he thought about it, tried to put it into words, but when he felt it, that made all the difference.

Tom seemed to snap out of it just a little, his gaze focusing on Caiden again. “But I guess you do that anyway, huh? Go around protecting people, nobody giving you orders.”

Caiden huffed. “That depends.”

“So nobles try to give Venatori orders too, the way Marks was doing?”

“Sometimes. If they want us around at all.”

Tom frowned, but he scratched at his neck and, suddenly, asked instead, “Ever been to Illikon?”

“No,” Caiden said.

“You should go, maybe when we’ve saved all these people. It’s only the best city in the Empire – or, well, anywhere. There’s nothing like smelling the sea breeze, watching the ships come and go. I’ve always heard people talk bad about her – Illikon, I mean – back in the Empire, but everybody who does hasn’t ever been there. I can guarantee it.”

The warmth from before rose up in Tom again, like his heart swelled at the thought of something. Illikon, if Caiden had to guess, just from the way he said the name. More like a woman he loved than a city he called home.

All Caiden said was, “Maybe.”

Tom flashed him a quick grin. “Wow. ‘Maybe.’ Don’t get excited or anything. You’re a real stoic guy, huh, Caid?”

‘Caid.’ He was someone who used nicknames without permission, then, if he could figure one out or make one up. Wasn’t the first time he had been called that one, though. Caiden glanced at him and huffed.

Then, something else tickled his senses. Caiden stopped in his tracks, arms tensing, hands squeezing the grip of his crossbow and his finger itching to slide to the trigger.

[lildevyl]

Idea that will NEVER See the Light of Day!

Okay, so, I’m going through a FUNK right now!  So, I’m just going to put all my ideas that are going through my head and the ones that I actually written down here.  Feel free to use any of them! Just tag me if ya do so I can R&R!

Art Ideas:

My Creative Buddies/Multi-Fandom Fiends as Yugioh Cards:

Okay, so I’ve kinda have some inspiration! A while ago I posted that I’ve been going through somethings and needed a distraction. Someone reached out and gave me an Art Request! I’m going to do it! I just need kick myself to get going! The Art Request is Joey Wheeler from Yugioh in Prince Aldan’s Costume from Disney’s Aladdin.

The idea and inspiration is draw all of my Creative Buddies (Mutals) and my Multi-Fandom Fiends as Yugioh Cards! And have a little text about the cards. Their special Attacks/Abilities, which cards go great with them.

Don’t Draw Chase!:

This is a two parter!

Part 1:  I do the little challenge/tag reblog of my drawing Chase and then gets transported to where Chase got transported too

Part 2:  I draw my Creative Buddies/Multi-Fandom Fiends who are Artists, drawing Chase and then they get transported to where Chase gets transported too! The Plot Twist is that they call me up wanting to know if I can help them get back, only for me to find out that they somehow got transported into a story or comic that I was working on!

Animal AU:  This is based on @septic-dr-schneep​​ Animal AU.  The Egos as Animals! I want to draw JJ as a Rabbit thumping his big paw in Morse Code. Something like this, thumpthumpthump Thump Thump Thump  thumpthumpthump.  SOS

I’m planning on drawing all the Egos as the different Animals that I want to draw them as in the Animal AU that’s probably never going to see the light of day of me writing it!

JJ as a Rabbit.  Chase as a Golden Retriever.  Schneep as an Owl.  Marvin as a Cat or something in the feline family.  Jackie as Service Dog.  Anti as a Buzzer/Vulture something along those lines.

Draw this in Your Own Style:  I don’t think this is going to happen.  Mainly, b/c I don’t have my own style or I just don’t know what my style is!  I wanted to draw one of @huffletrax​ Marvin’s Drawings.  This might come around, when I get myself to stop staring at a blank screen or wasting time scrolling through Reddit or Tumblr and actually do something!

Fantasy AU:  Inspired by @rogue-of-broken-time​'s Fantasy AU.  I'm not sure if I'll ever get to draw this!

I want to draw like a mini comic or something.  You're walking along a path in the woods to find someone.  It's getting pretty dark, and you have no idea where to go or what's actually out here.  You see tiny little lights and then you see a floating eyeball?!  The green floating eyeball waves it's tail at you to follow it.  It leads down the path and then off the path to clearing.  There you see the person who you've been searching for!

"Ah, I see you found them, Sam!  Come in, come in!  Have a seat!"  The person points to one of the stones to sit on.  "So, what can I do for ya?" You hand them a scroll that King has order you, the Royal Scribe to give to them.  "Ah, so you want to know what actually happened?  You're the Royal Scribe?  The one to keep all the records?  I see.  Well, I can help you!  I know what did happen all to well."  They look off into the distance for some time.  "My name's Rogue and I'll tell you the tale."

Writing Ideas:

Animal AU:  This based on @septic-dr-schneep's Animal AU.  Thank You Rilia for the inspiration but I'm sorry that I won't be able to write anytime soon!

Summary:  Sarah needs a Service Dog a for her heart condition. If her heart rate reaches above a certain level she could pass-out and die.  Her father does everything he can to make sure that Sarah get the Service Dog that she needs! Sarah, names the dog Jackie after Septic City's Superhero Jackieboy Man. Some time passes and Sarah and Jackie are having a time of their lives!

Sarah's knows that do to her condition that she will never be able to follow in her father's footsteps to become an Officer, so she decides to become a Vet instead!  Being able to help others and their beloved pets.  However, Sarah and her friends notice that something really weird is going on in Septic City.  All the stray Animals have started to disappear and it's not do the Animal Shelters either!

Sarah accidentally stumbles upon the reason why the Stray Animals have been disappearing.  Some Mad Scientist/Vet have been pet-napping them and using them for his experiments.  Now, with Sarah in his grasp and them being out near the city limits of in one of the abandon warehouses, the Mad Scientist can finally start using her as a test subject!

Sarah's father, Septic City's Police Chief asks help of someone he never thought in a million years for help to help bring his daughter back in piece, Jackieboy Man.

Fantasy AU:  Inspired by @rogue-of-broken-time's Fantasy AU.  Thank You so much for the inspiration Rogue!  Hopefully, this might get written!

Summary:  In a far away land, a Kingdom lives in peace with Magic and Non-Magic users co-existing peacefully.  But things haven't always been, this peaceful between the two Races.  Magic was heavily feared and outlawed in a Kingdom where King Anti rules with an iron fist and a Black Heart.  One Kingdom welcomes all Magical beings and has kept the peace for years.  Until the Corrupted King declares war and secrets of the Corrupted King and the heir to the Magical Kingdom comes to the surface.

Wrestling AU:  This idea is inspired by the YouTuber Tournament Series by N60Sean!  He uses Create A Wrestlers of different YouTubers and it got me thinking!  A crossover of YouTube and Wresting!

Summary:  Felix Kjellberg aka "The King of YouTube" decides to start his own Wrestling Company with the help of his friends and Indie Wrestlers! The Wrestling Company is a huge success but it also catches the attention of another Wrestling Company, AEW (All Elite Wrestling).  Cody shows up on the biggest night of them all, offering to buy Felix's Company all out with no strings attached and to buy all of the Wrestlers too!  Felix refuses and now there is an all out War!

Yugioh AU:  A Crossover with YouTube and Yugioh!

Summary:  One of Jack's friends has been kidnapped!!!  Now, he and his friends have compete in a Duel Masters Tournament to get his friends back!  Along the way, Jack discovers more about himself, and about the spirit of his puzzle Sean.

Egopocaplse:  The Universe/World of the Egos that I've been writing about!  I'm not sure if I'll ever get to write the one-shots/multi chapter stories about the Egos that I want to write.  I have most of the Head Canons of the Egos and what I like to write about these guys and have an idea on where I want to go with it.  And with the all the Guest Stars too!  I just have no idea if I'll be able to actually not only write the stories but also finish the damn things!  I have so many WIPs it's not even funny and I want to freakin' finish them but it seems like every time I'm stuck on a story, I get an idea for another!

And no, I can't really hyper focus on one thing and though I'm super into it! My brain just work like that!  I don't know why, but I just doesn't!

Love Potion:  Inspired by @m4delin and @juju-on-that-yeet Ego Ship of Illinois and Yancy!

Summary:  Yancy and Illinois have a crush on another but neither of them know it!  It’s gotten to the point where everyone in Ego Inc. has place bets on who will confess to who first!  But when Illinois and Yancy over hear the other say something, they both think that the other has crush on someone else!

Meanwhile, Yandereplier is desperate to find their Senpi!!  After helping Marvin translate one his spell books, Yandere finds a spell that they want to try out. Reveal Your True Love.  When Illinois mistakes the potion for a flavor syrup that Yandere accidentally left out on the counter, Illinois suddenly has the urge to confess his love to a very confused Yancy.

Avatar the Last Airbender:

Summary:  Hundred years have passed since the last Avatar was reincarnated. No one knows what had happened to the last Avatar an Air Bender, but now with the Commit on its way to give the Fire Nation one last powerful push.  The new Avatar, a Water Bender has been found.  A South Pole Water Bender, named Sokka.

[theeverlastingshade]

Favorite Albums of the 2000s

10. In Rainbows- Radiohead

After Radiohead released Hail to the Thief it seemed pretty set in stone that while they may still go on to continue releasing great records, it’s unlikely that they’d ever put out another record that shatters expectations and makes a bid for being among their best work. And then we received In Rainbows, a shocking late-career game changer so assured, dynamic, and brilliant that there are music fans that came of age around its release that still claim it’s the best Radiohead album. It’s not, but it’s exceptional nonetheless; a perfect fusion of the art-rock, electronic rock, and avant-guard impulses that they’d seem to have perfected by the time Kid A dropped, but had never quite navigated so fluidly. It’s a best of both worlds record that’s lean, perfectly paced, and contains some of the strongest songwriting of Thom Yorke’s entire career. It was the first Radiohead record since Kid A to sound like a revelatory statement able to stand on its own, and not simply exist in the shadow of prior records. The pay what you want model that they used to sell the record was a game-changer at the time of its release, but it’s the warm orchestration, frigid beats, and dynamic range that gave this record the staying power that it has. It’s the kind of record that displays an assured effortlessness that belies what exceptional musicians they all are, and reminds you why you fell in love with the band in the first place.

The one-two punch of “15 Step” and “Bodysnatchers” sets the pace for what’s to come; the former a glitchy electronic song that seems to hint at a less claustrophobic approach to Amensiac before the latter, propelled by a motorik rhythm and Yorke’s fractured wail, erupts and shatters that notion. The two of these songs taken together give a fairly apt depiction of the poles that Radiohead where bouncing back and forth from, and the tension arising from that balancing act propels the record forward. Caught between the somber guitar ballad “Nude” and the lumbering, electronic midpoint crescendo “All I Need” is the fidgety, nimble guitar work of “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” which does a wonderful job of offsetting the dreaminess of the previous track and preparing you for the creeping dread of what immediately follows. “Faust Arp” is a welcome, jangly transition from the heaviness of “All I Need” into the album’s most accessible song, “Reckoner”, and through that song’s warm melody and infectious percussion the downtempo march of “House of Cards” sounds like a perfect transition, with its string drones setting the stage for the record’s best song to arrive. There isn’t a moment wasted throughout the entire record, and it’s a marvel to hear the band cover such vast ground and still end up with something so concise.

Being a Radiohead record it should come as no surprise that In Rainbows tackles themes of existential dread, apocalyptic visions, corruption, and alienation throughout. “Nude” grapples with groupthink, the tendency for societies to not operate in the best interests of its people, and the inherent emptiness that defines the human experience “You paint yourself white/And fill up with noise/But there’ll be something missing”. “Bodysnatchers” explores someone faking their way through life and being unable to live the way they truly are “I have no idea what I’m talking about/I’m trapped in this body and can't get out” while “Faust Arp” finds someone crushed under the weight of monotony, recognizing the issue but seemingly lacking the courage or conviction to change his surroundings “Dead from the neck up, I guess I’m stuck, stuck, stuck/We thought you had it in you/But no, no, no”. “Videotape” ends the record on a perfect thematic note with the narrator making a videotape for the love of his life before he kills himself “No matter what happens now/You shouldn’t be afraid/Because I know today has been/The most perfect day I’ve ever seen”, drawing an unsettling through line from the closer on Kid A. The themes of despair throughout the digital age have become increasingly more realized with each subsequent Radiohead album from OK Computer onward, but they hit a notable new peak on In Rainbows. In Rainbows isn’t their most ambitious, or accomplished album, but it perhaps best distills what their essence best, succinctly showcasing just how peerless they were and remain.

Essentials: “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”, “All I Need”, “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi”

9. The Glow, Pt. 2- The Microphones

Before Phil Elverum recorded two devastating records about the loss of his wife, Genevieve, and the process of having to raise his daughter without her by his side under his current Mount Eerie moniker, he spent several years recording lo-fi psychedelic folk songs as The Microphones. He switched gears in 2003 and continued recording music as a solo act, having swapped the name of The Microphones for Mount Eerie (the name of the final record recorded as The Microphones) feeling that he had taken the former project to its natural conclusion. Before making the switch, Elverum recorded four albums as The Microphones that each rank as among the most accomplished and thoroughly engaging albums that he’s recorded to date. While all are exceptional and worth anyone’s time, The Glow Pt. 2 is the best of the bunch, and still stands as Elverum’s magnum opus. An idiosyncratic LP bursting with personality and color while folding in psychedelic folk, noise, lo-fi, ambient, and indie rock The Glow Pt. 2 is a colossal tour de force through Elverum’s tastes, and it hangs together remarkably well. He would continue to explore various facets of styles explored here on subsequent releases, but no single record of his before or after captures the vivid imagination and breadth of his musicianship quite like The Glow Pt. 2.

Opener “I Want Wind to Blow” sets the stage for what’s to come through gentle acoustic strums, repetition, and a generous use of space while growing increasingly grand in scope until it explodes during its last minute with pummeling percussion and thick slabs of distorted noise. “I Want Wind to Blow” is one of the longest songs here, with most ranging from 1 to 2 minutes, just long enough to begin exploring an idea and then smoothly transitioning to something else before wearing its welcome. There are songs like “(Something)” that drift by quickly with little more than droning strings floating eerily throughout the mix, and others like “Map” that are a treasure trove of eclectic instrumentation that seem to be constantly rising and falling in intensity for several minutes without locking into a steady groove for too long. “Headless Horseman” gets a ton of mileage out of a softly strummed ukulele and Elverum’s tender vocals while the menacing “I Want to be Cold” pits a searing cymbal rhythm against smoldering, distorted guitars with Elverum’s voice barely audible above the noise. The individual songs may run the gamut through a myriad of different genres, but the analog warmth, droning motifs, tape hiss, and punctual silence tie everything together as one vast landscape of thematic and sonic coherence. No matter how far ranging some of the songs here develop with respect to everything else around them, the production renders each song with the same unmistakable warmth and richness.

The Glow Pt. 2 is centered around a breakup that Elverum experienced, and he details his thoughts and feelings throughout the ordeal, consistently blurring the lines between fact and fiction while gradually finding solace in nature. “I Want Wind to Blow” opens the record right after the storm has died down as he begs for a change to sweep away the sense of loss that he’s beginning to endure “My clothes off me, sweep me off my feet/Take me up, don’t bring me back/Oh, where I can see days pass by me/I have no head to hold in grief”. This leads directly into the record’s centerpiece and title track where Elverum comes to terms with the fact that his girlfriend and best friend became romantically involved with one another. Elverum recognizes that life will go on whether or not he wants it to in that moment “I could not get through September without a battle/I faced death, I went in with my arms swinging/But I heard my own breath/And I had to face that I’m still living”, and slowly works his way back towards the resolve to go on. Throughout the rest of the record he tries to erase memories of the relationship (“The Moon”), succumbs to pure apathy (“I Want to be Cold”), comes to terms with how insignificant he is within the scope of the universe (“I Felt My Size”), and eventually comes to terms with what remains of his life as he slowly bleeds out in the forest (“My Warm Blood”). The experience that Elverum draws from throughout The Glow Pt. 2 is universal, but it’s rarely been translated into such a rich, transcendent experience.

Essentials: “I Want Wind to Blow”, “The Glow, Pt. 2″, “Map”

8. Since I Left You- The Avalanches

While the last decade saw the release of many brilliant records, there were very few that were as legitimately inventive as Since I Left You. The debut album by The Avalanches is a plunderphonics record that seamlessly blends disco, r&b, jazz, bossa nova, comedy skits, and pop music into a glorious, kaleidoscopic whole that truly sounds like nothing else. SILY wasn’t the first plunderphonics record, but nothing working entirely within those parameters before or since has achieved something so fresh and singular, creating a colorful, fully-lived in new context for the 900 plus samples that make up its whole. The perfectly natural flow that guides the record is part of its inherent charm, and belies just how intricate and complex the creation of the record actual was. SILY was so painstakingly meticulous to construct that it took The Avalanches 16 years to return with a proper follow-up, and while that follow-up, Wildflower, was a great return to form, it doesn’t quite capture the singular beauty of their inimitable debut.

The eclecticism of SILY is one of the most immediate, and impressive draws. There are recurring samples and motifs that occur multiple times throughout the record, but no two songs sound anything alike. The pacing is sublime, with songs bleeding into one another in a manner that approximates a DJ mix with supreme versatility. Samples are constantly shifting, being pitched in different directions, being sped up, slowed down, or swapped out entirely. There’s never a moment where something isn’t in flux, and the fact that they manage to accomplish this while still constantly giving each song such a defined shape and tone is a marvel. Sampled voices appear periodically, but rather than leading the arrangements, in true plunderphonics fashion they're tucked into the fold alongside everything else, treated as percussion or texture depending on the song. No single moment overstays its welcome, and because of how much texture is being employed at all times it’s easy to constantly discover something new each time that you listen to it. The last song on SILY transitions seamlessly into the first song, which only heightens the potency of its DJ mix structure.

With a record as coherent and consistent as SILY it’s difficult and almost beside the point to zero in on highlights since it’s meant to be consumed all at once as an experience. But there are a few astonishing songs that stand above the already strong pack, and rank as among the strongest plunderphonics songs that I’ve ever heard. “Two Hearts in ¾ Time” unloads a swirling concoction of xylophone, flute, and keys atop breezy scat singing, and the carefree exuberance that radiates from the composition is infectious. “Radio” pits a massive bassline against repetitious chants and distorted bursts of guitars and keys while “Summer Crane” pairs down the sonic density (slightly) as a slurring thermin, strings, and sleigh bells dance in tandem while the recurring string motif flickers throughout. “Frontier Psychiatrist” is as ridiculous and absurd as things get here, and is legitimately one of the funniest moments on any electronic album through its use of vocal samples lifted from the Johnny Wayne and Frank Shuster comedy sketch of the same name “The man with the golden eyeball/And tighten your buttocks, pour juice down your chin/I promised my girlfriend I’d play the violin. And the closer “Extra Kings” unravels in a bouncy psychedelic sprawl with the voice from the first song and title track singing “I’ve tried but I just can’t get you/Every since the day I left you” as noise makers and woodwinds swirl around the vocals in rapturous joy.

The one thing that cannot be overstated is just how much fun it is to listen to this record. Through its many songs and moods, joy, pain, sorrow, regret, and unease are conjured at various moments, but throughout it all there’s a palpable sense that the band are thoroughly enjoying themselves. It remains playful and whimsical even at its most crestfallen, and thrills even at its deepest lulls. A sense of discovery and communal spirit animates this record, and The Avalanches achieve a sense of weightlessness that pervades even the record’s densest moments. It’s the rare record that matches its remarkably accessible, party-friendly nature with an equally groundbreaking execution that completely rewrote the cultural relationship to sample-based music. The Avalanches wisely opted to downplay the inherent brilliance of the music, and they made it as easy as possible to simply get lost in the endless spirals of grooves, texture, and pockets upon pockets of melody. There’s no air of pretension in The Avalanches’ universe, just the pure, unmitigated joy of stumbling upon new sounds in unusual contexts again and again and again.

Essentials: “Extra Kings”, “Frontier Psychiatrist”, “Two Hearts in 3/4 Time”

7. Yankee Hotel Foxtrot- Wilco

Wilco was already a great band before they released Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but it’s this record that cemented them as one of the most compelling of their era. When their label, Reprise Records, an imprint of AOL Time Warner, heard the record they assumed that it would essentially amount to career suicide and opted to release them from the label with the rights to the album. In order to not significantly delay the release of their record before touring it as well as controlling the quality of the songs that were already being leaked from it Wilco put the entire record on their site and embarked on their most successful tour up to that point. Both Being There and Summerteeth were massive leaps forward for the band, defined equally by Jeff Tweedy’s increasingly accomplished songwriting and the studio wizardry of multi-instrumentalist Jay Bennet, but on YHF these forces hit a peak. The songs on YHF are intensely felt, and earnestly conveyed by a band that was completely in-tune with one another, and were perpetually firing on all cylinders. The tasteful sonic experimentation, warm rock and baroque arrangements, and Tweedy’s wistful, romantic sentiments coalesce into a superbly realized whole. Mature, earnest, empathetic, and adventurous, YHF is a landmark for indie rock, and one of the most beautiful and compulsively listenable albums of the century so far.

The biggest development that took place on YHF was Tweedy’s songwriting fully blossoming into a sincere, singular voice that propelled to the band to unprecedented heights. On opening song “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart” Tweedy’s depiction of someone wandering around Chicago post-breakup “I am an American aquarium drinker/I assassin down the avenue/I’m hiding out in the big city blinking/What was a I thinking when I let go of you?” sets the tone of the album with wistful, poignant urgency. “Jesus, Etc” depicts the desolation and the simple pleasures clung to within urban, contemporary American life “Voices whine/Skycrapers are scraping together/Your voice is smoking/Last cigarettes, are all you can get/Turning your orbit around” while positing love as a balm for the ills of modern existence “Our love is all we have/Our love/Our love is all of God’s money/Everyone is a burning sun”. On the album’s stunning closer “Reservations” Tweedy’s trying to reassure his love that he’s invested in their future “Oh, I’ve got reservations/About so many things/But not about you” while on the album’s centerpiece, “Radio Cure”, Tweedy laments the difficulty of sustaining a long distance relationship despite advancements in technology making it easier to do than ever before “Oh, distance has no way/Of making love understandable”. Tweedy’s writing is concise and direct, cut with an emotional through line that elevates the sentiments beyond what may scan as initially simplistic.

YHF doesn’t provide any overhauls to their approach to the extent that Wilco’s previous two records did. Rather, it’s a case of tightening up what they already did well and improving considerably on all fronts. Jay Bennett continues to showcase how he was the band’s not-so-secret weapon at this phase of their career with a sly touch that embellishes each song here with surprising amount of dimension. Bennett really began to experiment considerably with Wilco’s sound on Summerteeth, but his most compelling contributions are those throughout YHF. Whether its the ambient swirl of chimes that open “Ashes of American Flags”, the spring-loaded percussion on “Pot Kettle Black”, the melancholic string drones that dominate “Poor Places” or the whirring samples that swirl in perfect harmony alongside the infectious concoction of cymbals, xylophone, and acoustic guitars throughout the build of “Radio Cure”, Bennett’s use of texture was subtle, but supremely effective in fleshing each composition into wonderfully distinct shapes. The songs are certainly strong enough to stand on their own in much simpler, stripped down forms, but Bennett’s tinkering perfectly complemented Tweedy’s songwriting, imbuing his romanticism with a welcome surrealist bent.

The suspected allusions to 9/11 in a few of the songs despite the record having been finished months before 9/11 dominated the narrative of the album upon its release, but that supposed prescience overlooks Tweedy’s astute observation of American despair and generally just glosses over the fact that, regardless of possible foresight, YHF is simply a magnificent record. There’s a universality to the sentiments that are beautifully rendered by Tweedy’s aching tone, and the band finally seemed completely comfortable dropping all pretenses of “alt-country” and leaned unabashedly into their intrinsic weirdness without much concern for what the record might initially scan as. What continues to really impress about YHF is that Wilco simultaneously became more experimental and tuneful, with some of the melodies dominating songs like “Radio Cure”, “Jesus, Etc”, “Pot Kettle Black”, and “I’m the Man Who Loves You” ranking as among their strongest to date. There are few albums that I’ve heard that strike such a fine balance between strong melodies and forward-thinking composition, but YHF manages just that, while offering a compelling insight into initial 21st century American malaise.

Essentials: “Radio Cure”, “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”, “Jesus, Etc”

6. Madvillainy- Madvillain

MF DOOM and Madlib were already renowned figures in underground hip hop with a couple of great records under each of their belts before they linked up to write and record Madvillainy. But in each other they found the perfect collaborator whose sensibilities ran parallel to their own. In the universe that they built together dense internal rhymes float effortlessly over dusty soul loops and thick clouds of pot smoke. There were obvious precedents for what they accomplished on DOOM’s Operation Doomsday and Madlib’s The Unseen, recorded under his Quasimoto alias, but on Madvillainy they helped one another reach a creative breakthrough with them both redefining the form of their respective crafts. Madlib’s beats are relentlessly eclectic, gorgeously textured, and masterfully mixed, while DOOM’s verses are some of the most varied, superbly rapped, and thought-provoking of his entire career. The ease with which their styles complement one another belies the effort that they put into it, and the end result doesn’t sound fussy or labored over, but it did herald a new era of faded west-coast hip hop built on a throne of comic books, jazz records, and a dizzying array of internal rhyme schemes.

The production on Madvillainy was handled entirely by Madlib, with DOOM co-producing the opening track “The Illest Villains”, and it’s the most cohesive collection of beats that Madlib has ever assembled while still packing a considerable amount of variety within its grooves. “Rhinestone Cowboy” is the longest song, clocking in at 4 minutes exactly, but most of the songs are under 2 minutes and concisely introduce their ideas while DOOM unloads brief, but substantial bars over them. The samples span the likes of The Mothers of Invention, Sun Ra, George Clinton, Bill Evans, Diana Ross, Stevie Wonder, James Brown, Street Fighter II, and so much more sometimes within the same songs without once showing the seams. The atmosphere is soulful and jazzy with a hazy tinge that the samples lend the compositions on the whole juxtaposed superbly against the visceral nature of DOOM’s rapping. The music is rendered within a quantized grid so there’s no mistaking it as anything other than hip hop beats, but these beats are arranged more tastefully than the vast majority of instrumental hip-hop that’s come before or since. Whether it's the guitar/sleigh bell stomp of “Shadows of Tomorrow”, or the sluggish bass crawl and metronome sigh of “Meat Grinder”, or the anthemic brass leads that frame “All Caps”, the beats are simply bursting with texture and personality.

Since reemerging as MF DOOM towards the end of the last century Daniel Dumile has completely owned this specific lane of verbose, off-kilter hip-hop defined by his knotty phrasing, complex internal rhyme schemes, and magnetic personality that draws from all ephemeral of pop culture. Madlib brings out the best in DOOM, and his rapping is by turns loose and tight, dense and reference heavy while delivered with a level of precision that transcends pop culture acumen. “Living off borrowed time, the lock ticks faster/That’d be the hour they knock on the slick blaster” are the first lines on “Accordion” that open the record, and things only get more surreal from there. The rhymes are eloquent and guttural, often open to various interpretation, and packed with colorful imagery while never being anything less than thought-provoking. “Meat Grinder” depicts DOOM’s pimping of a stripper named China “Heat niner, pimping, stripping, soft sweet minor/China was a neat signer, trouble with the script” while ���America’s Most Blunted” is an absurdist ode to marijuana “Quas, when he really hit star mode/Never will he boost loose Philies with the bar-code”. “Curls” reveals a glimpse of DOOM’s lost innocence after smoking his first spiff at 7 “Spliff made him swore he saw heaven, he was seven/Yup, you know it, growin’ up too fast/Showin’ up to class with Moet in a flask” while on “All Caps” he’s reveling in pure braggadocio “So nasty that it’s probably somewhat of a travesty/Having me, then he told the people “You can call me your majesty””. The complexity and eclecticism that DOOM imbued his lyrics with hit a new peak for hip hop as a whole on Madvillainy.

Although the partnership between MF DOOM and Madlib only resulted in Madvillainy, the influence of that lone masterwork continues to ripple throughout the underground and mainstream alike. Odd Future, Brainfeeder, Black Hippy, Pro Era, Bruiser Brigade and countless other crews, collectives, and labels were informed tremendously by the nerve this record struck. DOOM clones are still rampant, and Madlib’s anything goes crate-digging approach to sample-based composition can be heard in everyone from Kaytranada to JPEGMAFIA. There were very few records that came out this decade that drastically altered the direction for what hip hop can sound like quite like Madvillainy. DOOM and Madlib were such a perfect match for one another that neither of them have made music with anyone else before or since (or solo) that comes close to the brilliance of Madvillainy. Whether or not the two of them ever reunite to create that tantalizing follow-up seems like a coin toss, but truth be told we’re better served with things as they are. The original is still paying enormous dividends 15 years later and it’s only going to continue getting better from here.

Essentials: “All Caps”, “Figaro”, “Curls”

5. Microcastle/Weird Era Cont.- Deerhunter

No other double LP from the last decade delivered so much, or asked so little from the listener, as Deerhunter’s extraordinary Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. Originally just intended as a single LP, Bradford Cox generously recorded all of Weird Era Cont. to reward fans that purchased Microcastle after it leaked months in advance (unfortunately, Weird Era Cont. would be leaked as well). Microcastle finds the band honing their populist impulses with impeccable clarity without completely abandoning their murkier roots, while Weird Era Cont. completely dives into their stranger, more abstract realm of their sound. Each record is exceptional in its own right, but when taken together they form the perfect realization of all the sides of the band, spanning the likes of garage rock, post-punk, shoegaze, ambient, musique concrete, krautrock, and psychedelic pop while managing to make such amalgamations sound like second nature. There’s more range covered on each of these LPs than most bands manage within entire careers. While Cryptograms first showcased the seemingly limitless potential that Deerhunter was capable of, Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. proved that they were one of the defining bands of the century so far.

Microcastle is sequenced in a way that is comparable to Cryptograms, but there are just a few more bright pop moments right out of the gates before the record descends into its shorter ambient middle section. After the obligatory ambient opening interlude, this time in the form of “Cover Me (Slowly)”, Lockett Pundt begins the record proper by taking lead vocals on Cox’s “Agorophobia”. Having Lockett sing the first actual song on the record is a testament to how far their lead guitarist had come as another vocalist (and songwriter, with “Neither of Us, Uncertainly”) in such a short order. With “Agorophobia” Lockett leads one of the gentlest sounding songs that the band had released up to that point, with a disarmingly gorgeous vocal melody superbly juxtaposed against lyrics that describe the sensation of being buried alive for sexual pleasure. The sharp immediacy of “Never Stops” follows suit, and here Cox completely comes into his own a pop frontman, no longer content to wallow innocuously behind the squall of guitar distortion, and he propels the arrangements with a legitimately anthemic melody. Both “Little Kids” and the title track provide two of Cox’s most tender vocal performances up to that point while still making room for Lockett’s spellbinding guitar tones.

“Calvary Scars”, “Activa”, and “Green Jacket” aren’t quite as engaging as any of the ambient songs throughout the stretch from “White Ink” to “Red Ink” on Cryptograms, but they nonetheless draw an effective bridge to the record’s high-point, the colossal “Nothing Ever Happened”. “Nothing Ever Happened” has the band firing on all cylinders and delivering a show stopping performance that blends krautrock, garage rock, and shoegaze for a song far more satisfying and life-affirming than the sum of its parts. After that rollercoaster we’re treated to the bouncy jangle pop of “Saved by Old Times”, and the soothing dream pop of comedowns “Neither of Us, Certainly” and “Twilight at Carbon Lake” before the later erupts into a cacophony of jerky guitar spasms. It’s a welcome ending for a record with such a clear emphasis on melody, and it reinforces the notion that you shouldn’t get too comfortable with any fixed idea of what Deerhunter sound like at any given point in time.

Weird Era Cont. is where things really get interesting. It’s the only album of theirs that includes songs that were recorded and performed by individual members of the band intended for their various solo projects (these being Bradford Cox’s Atlas Sound and Lockett Pundt’s Lotus Plaza). The album as a whole hews closest to the first Atlas Sound LP, Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel, in that both are absolute treasure troves of sonic riches that prioritize pure sound and overall immersion above proper song structure. The fact that Weird Era Cont. is so disparate and yet hangs together so cohesively is as much a testament to Deerhunter’s discipline as it is their sheer intuition with respect to flow and pacing even amongst such inherent disorder. And so here you get the raucous garage rock anthem “Operation” colliding into the noise-pop gem “Dot Gain”, the ambient interlude “Cicada” seeping right into the twisted ethereal waltz “Vox Humana”, and the whirring instrumental collage pop “Moon Witch Cartridge” segueing nicely into the droning noise of “Weird Era”. While Weird Era Cont. is only strengthened when viewed through the lens of it existing as the flip side to Microcastle’s warped pop, it still provides a welcome microcosm of Deerhunter’s incredible range all on its own, and it’s the most adventurous record that Deerhunter ever recorded.

Due to the fact that Microcastle and Weird Era Cont. are both Deerhunter records, the lyrics deal almost entirely with dreams and death. Most of the characters that occupy these songs are trying to escape from their nightmares or literally sacrificing themselves for the sweet ecstasy of oblivion. A version of “Cavalry Scars” appears on both records, the former a brief guitar lullaby and the latter a blistering shoegaze freakout, but the constant thread that ties them together aside from the title is that the narrator is crucifying himself in front of all of his friends. “Saved By Old Times” is more literal, and it depicts the alienation that Cox experienced growing up in his parents house by himself after his parents divorced while trying to cope with his Marfan Syndrome “You are trapped in your basement for a war of 16 years/In a combat for victory/In a combat with ourselves/In combat with these cultural vampires”. Cox’s fixation on death seems to serve as the ultimate salve for his lifelong struggle with simply having to exist, and regardless of whether or not music functions as a temporary solution for his anguish it’s clearly a natural medium for him to exercise his demons. Deerhunter have spent the rest of their career honing in on that release, but Microcastle/Weird Era Cont. is where those fixations first crystallized into something truly singular.

Essentials: “Nothing Ever Happened”, “Never Stops”, “Microcastle”, “Vox Celeste”, “Dot Gain”, “Slow Swords”

4. Strawberry Jam- Animal Collective

Strawberry Jam was the first Animal Collective record to have been released after band member Panda Bear’s exceptional solo breakthrough, Person Pitch, so for the first time in their career there was an obvious precedent in place for where the tight knight crew of David Portner (Avey Tare), Panda Bear (Noah Lennox), Geologist (Brian Weitz), and Josh Dibb (Deakin) might take their sound, but like all their prior records it sounds nothing like anything that came before it. Having completely moved on from the full-band analog approach, SJ is the sound of a band moving fearlessly outside of their comfort zone and harnessing the immense potential of samplers. On the whole, the compositions are more richly textured, melodic, and better paced than the bulk of their past work. The band continued to incorporate field recordings into their music, but given the prevalence of the samples happening at all times it can be difficult to parse who’s doing anything other than percussion and vocals at any given point in time. Avey’s presence dominates SJ to a large degree, with his idiosyncratic approach to melody defining the bulk of the standouts here. But despite Tare’s voice being the focal point on most of the songs on SJ, Panda Bear still holds his own as a songwriter throughout, and his softer melodic tone helped superbly counterbalance Tare’s outbursts. On SJ you can hear the band bending the fabric of pop music to their will in real time, and it remains both a masterclass in warped pop, and a joy to revisit time and time again.

During the tour in support of their incredible 2005 psych-rock LP, Feels, Lennox was mesmerized by the look of a tray of inflight jam, and decided that the production on their next record should sound the way that the jam looked. On SJ the band capture that superbly as they deliver some of their strongest, and sweetest melodies coupled with Avey’s most abrasive, and expressive singing to date. This tug of war between the band’s heightened melodic instincts driving candy-coated, psychedelic arrangements against Tare’s octave leaping shrieks provides an entrancing juxtaposition that loses none of its potency from the frantic opening song “Peacebone”, to the longing closer “Derek”. Songs like “Chores” and the aforementioned “Derek”, both of which are Panda songs, execute sublime, unpredictable transitions midway through that demonstrate both his knack for sample-based composition and the West-African influence on his songwriting that really congealed in earnest on PP. Meanwhile Tare songs, like “Unsolved Mysteries” and “Cuckoo Cuckoo”, still favored conventional chord changes and verse-chorus-verse structures, but they managed to pack the hallmarks of the band’s sound into much more succinct packages that don’t nullify any of the impact. Neo-psychedelic synth textures, tribal drumming, choirboy vocal harmonies, feral shrieks, and a pervasive use of space still reigned supreme throughout SJ, but the band were crafting legitimate pop songs while still in service of their wonderful idiosyncrasies. Nothing on SJ could be mistaken for the work of any other band, but it’s remarkable to hear just how significantly they tightened up their arrangements while still still remaining an island unto themselves.

As soon as opener “Peacebone” kicks into gear with its stomping percussion and dazzling array of arpeggio synth leads setting the foundation for Avey’s full-throttled yelps, it’s clear that this is his record. At the time of its release, “Peacebone” was the most immediate that AC ever sounded, but Tare’s shrieks kept listeners giddily at arm’s length even as they adopt more approachable structures. The midsection breakdown is still thrilling, and a good barometer of whether or not SJ is really your cup of tea or not. “Unsolved Mysteries” follows suit and doubles down on the pervading sense of whimsy from a compositional standpoint, and Tare’s vocals continue to provide a satisfying juxtaposition. The backbone of the album consists of “For Reverend Green” and “Fireworks”, the strongest back to back songs on any of their albums. On “For Reverend Green” Tare provides one of his most thrilling vocal performances to date, gleefully leaping between octaves mid-verse and switching between cathartic wordless croons and feral shrieks on a dime. It’s a stunning display of virtuosity and passion that couldn’t have come from any other musician. “Fireworks” is one of Tare’s most tender vocal performances to date, and it finds him contemplating the cycle of life as well as his place in the world over stuttering percussion, wordless croons, mesmerizing field recordings, and minor key piano. It’s a touching, albeit heavy listen, but the band play with such joy and warmth that it never suffocates under the weight of its ambition, and it’s one of the greatest songs that Tare has ever written.

Despite SJ being an album dominated by Tare’s presence it was still a major showcase for Panda Bear as a songwriter in his own right. “Chores” nails the sort of transitional finesse perfected on PP as it starts from a frantic intro dominated by bass drums and noisemakers before seamlessly shifting into a brief droning mid-section and then ending on a psychedelic, West-African influenced march. The disparate movements sound nothing alike one another, but they’re stitched together in a way that not only flows incredibly well, but sounds completely natural. “#1” is the closest that the band get to one of their signature drone compositions, and although it’s far sparser, and not nearly as developed as most of their prior ones it works on the strength on Panda’s gorgeous vocals alone. The arpeggio synth melody, sleigh bells, and vocal samples provide a refreshing minimal framework on an album otherwise defined by maximalism, and gives Panda’s voice the kind of room necessitated for it to achieve its maximum impact. The finale, “Derek”, also clearly sprang from a PP compositional influence, with an intro full of chirping synths and tranquil organ chords that slowly give way to an explosive, double kick drum wall of sound beneath one of Panda’s most triumphant vocal melodies to date. It’s a massive sound, but his sentiments couldn’t be any more tender “You can count/When you count/Count on me/What do you/See when you/See inside of me”.

On SJ AC grapple with their adulthood, their lives as touring band, and the daily routines they now find themselves entwined in. Panda’s “Chores” is about him getting his chores out of the way so that he can get high in the rain while his closing contribution, “Derek”, finds him pondering the weight of having a living being depend on him for survival. None of Avey’s songs have the the playful energy of “Chores”, and he spends the album delivering a stream of consciousness on the nature of death (“Cucko Cucko), exploring the delusions that we buy into to feel okay about life (“Winter Wonder Land”), and the futility of living in the past (“Peacebone”). In addition to to being compositional standouts, “For Reverend Green” and “Fireworks” also form the emotional backbone of the album. The former explores the jovial existence of childhood against the crippling realities of adulthood “A running child’s bloody with burning knees/A careless child’s money flew in the trees/A camping child’s happy with winter’s freeze/A lucky child don’t know how lucky she is”. It almost plays like a spiritual successor to Tare’s masterful early song “Alvin Row”, and it perfectly exemplifies their ethos as a band. On “Fireworks” Tare contemplates the passage of time, acknowledging how quickly everything moves, and fantasizes about what bliss might look like to him “It’s family beaches that I desire/Sacred night where we watch the fireworks/They frighten the babies and you know/They’ve got two/Flashing eyes and if they’re color blind/They make me feel/That I’m all I see sometimes”. It’s a universal sentiment delivered with their singular charm, and one of their strongest statements to date.

On SJ AC retained their idiosyncratic whims and experimental proclivities, they just learned how to harness these elements into more immediate forms. As with each of their records released throughout the last decade SJ sounds nothing like what preceded it, but it’s too eclectic to be the work of any other band, and despite the shift in sonics it still operates by the dreamy logic that the band imbued it with. Each release following Danse Manatee has found the band creeping closer to full on pop, and although they embraced it unabashedly on SJ it’s still on their own terms entirely. SJ was the latest in a progression of records since Ark that found AC being ahead of the curve of several indie trends, and many of the sample-heavy indie acts throughout the end of the last decade owe their careers to this record. SJ isn’t AC’s most immediate record, nor is it their most challenging, but it is one of the most inspired developments within their progression, and it jump started their sample-based mature phase. MPP remains their most celebrated work, but the crystallization of their sound that took place on that record wouldn’t have been possible without the groundwork laid by SJ. Although SJ was overshadowed by PP the year that they both came out, SJ still stands as the best showcase of the band’s work with samplers, and it remains a landmark of experimental pop music.

Essentials: “For Reverend Green”, “Fireworks”, “Derek”

3. Kid A- Radiohead

Few artists have managed to make such a drastic leap in sound on any of their records the way that Radiohead did with Kid A. Throughout the 90s they developed organically from a run of the mill Brit pop band into one of the most idiosyncratic and forward thinking bands of all time. With their landmark 1998 record Ok Computer they created a blueprint for a form electronic rock equally informed by classical music and the various strains of experimental electronic music that emerged in the 90s courtesy of the likes of Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, and Autechre. By the time that they were gearing up to record the follow-up to what was then unanimously recognized as their masterpiece they disavowed the form of rock music entirely. On Kid A the guitars are stripped away in favor of icy keyboards and the austere glare of syntheizers, with the stark precision of drum machines deployed to provide the heartbeat for their desolate soundscapes. The risk paid off immensely, resulting in a work that sounds like nothing that’s come before or since. It’s the sound of a band grappling with existentialism, early information overload, and the sweeping saturation of advanced technology and responding with doomsday prophecies that sound more prescient with each passing year. No other record released this century has better set the tone for everything to come quite the way that Kid A has.

As soon as Kid A’s opening song “Everything In It’s Right Place” begins it’s undeniable that a great deal has changed with Radiohead this time around. Despite the chilly exterior that Ok Computer exudes, there are still moments of melodic warmth such as on its opening cut “Airbag”. “Everything In It’s Right Place” presents an uneasy atmosphere at the offset, and things gradually become more foreboding from there. Thom Yorke’s heavily manipulated wail sounds like it’s glitching as it soars over the horizon of digital keys and kick drums. The mix slowly becomes an overwhelming wall of vocals and keys that form a repetitive bludgeoning motif, incorporating their heightened love of krautrock. Along with the classical music and IDM touchstones that informed Ok Computer, krautrock, jazz, and ambient were large influences they drew from as well. The title track follows “Everything In It’s Right Place”, and it’s an ambient lullaby that finds the band prioritizing atmosphere and texture over any semblance of conventional composition. On the following song, “The National Anthem” the band spiral into a propulsive epic that fuses jazz and krautrock into something else entirely. The first three songs sound nothing like one another, and in addition to the late album IDM stomp of “Idioteque”, they set the parameters for the record as a whole.

Despite the variety on display throughout Kid A it still achieves a remarkable cohesiveness through tone and atmosphere. Every song is masterfully paced, and exquisitely produced, and most blow open their sonic parameters further then they’ve ever dared before or since. “Optimistic” is one of the few songs here that hints at the sort of driving guitar compositions they prioritized early on, but when coupled with the forlorn melody and the eerie synth loops it almost sounds like an unsettling throwback that achieves a sense of perpetual weightlessness. “Treefingers” dives headfirst into ambient, and is one of the most gorgeous instrumental compositions that Radiohead have ever written. It also provides a superb bridge from the existential acoustic reverie “How to Disappear Completely” into the moody lurch of “Optimistic”. “Idioteque” is the pounding heart of Kid A’s detached overlook, but despite being the closest the album comes to a single it’s still claustrophobic and uninhabitable. After several songs that aim to instill dread and discomfort at every turn, the album’s last proper song “Motion Picture Soundtrack” ends things with a gorgeous harp arpeggio set against an organ wail as Yorke sings softly about a suicide fantasy. All these years later and Kid A continues to hold together as an astonishing collection of experiments from a band at the height of their powers.

Emerging at the dawn of the current century, Kid A didn’t commit to any pretenses of subtlety whatsoever, particularly with respect to its thematic concerns. On “Everything In It’s Right Place” Yorke lays out his perception of the state of a world laced with depression, anxiety, fear, and disconnection “There are two colours in my head/What was that you tried to say” informed by a breakdown that he experienced while touring Ok Computer. “How to Disappear Completely” takes the form of an out-of-body experience with a narrator thoroughly disillusioned with his life and ready to precede to the next plane of existence “In a little while/I’ll be gone/The moment’s already passed/Yeah, it’s gone”. “In Limbo” traffics in pure abstraction as the narrator wanders aimlessly throughout life unable to escape from his fantasies “I’m lost at sea/Don’t bother me/I’ve lost my way” while “Morning Bell” depicts a lingering spirit that supposedly resided in a house that Yorke used to own “The lights are on but nobody’s home/Nobody wants to be a slave”. The aforementioned “Motion Picture Soundtrack” provides a superb ending to the album rendered in bleak, cutting detail “Red wine and sleeping pills/Help me get back to your arms/Cheap sex and sad films/Help me get where I belong”, and it culmines with the narrator easing into suicide. The songs portray a grim culture of isolation and pacification that we’re much closer to living than we were when the album came out.

A year after Kid A Radiohead returned with their fifth LP, Amnesiac, but it mostly plays like a well-sequenced collection of thoughtfully repurposed leftovers from the Kid A sessions. Several great records followed suit, the latest being their sublime 2016 LP A Moon Shaped Pool, while various members of the band have spun off to focus on solo careers and film scores. Radiohead have never released anything less than a good record, but nothing since Kid A has come close to capturing the consistent brilliance of that record. The paranoia, uncertainty, and disillusionment that was pervasive at the turn of the century is rendered remarkably through their stark arrangements, liberal use of space, and distant temperament. The shift in Radiohead’s trajectory following Kid A was so pronounced that a band releasing their Kid A has become shorthand for the sort of dramatic, swinging for the fences left turn that's all too rare in music these days. While it’s almost certain that Radiohead will never release anything of this magnitude again, Kid A has held up incredibly well, and it continues to loom large as a relic of an already bygone era defined by a sense of wonder slowly being crippled beneath the weight of an encroaching dystopia.

Essentials: “Everything In It’s Right Place”, “The National Anthem”, “Optimistic”

2. Feels- Animal Collective

While Sung Tongs was the true breakout record for Animal Collective, Feels was where the band locked in as a full group to showcase that the remarkable melodic warmth peeking out through their intrinsic weirdness was far from a fluke. Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Geologist, and Deakin had all come together once before for Ark two years prior, but the pop craftsmanship, confidence, consistency, and sheer range displayed on Feels are worlds apart from the unsettling, freak-folk noise collages that define Ark. Psychedelia and drone music are still large facets of their sound, but they hadn’t previously been utilized to reinforce such strong song craft. Having moved beyond their freak-folk and noise roots, Feels was a departure towards presenting themselves as more of a conventional rock band, and it’s still the closest they’ve ever come to releasing any semblance of a traditional “rock” LP, but true to form Feels defies any easy classification. Guitars, drums, piano, and vocals dominate the proceedings to be sure, but so do dense field recordings, and otherworldly drones, particularly on the record’s spellbinding second half. While perhaps not their most adventurous, nor their most unpredictable record, Feels is certainly their most consistent, offering a glimpse of a band still changing dramatically from record to record while offering far more than any of their peers.

Since Feels was only the second album of theirs to feature all four members by that point it’s a far more fleshed out sounding record than the bulk of those that preceded it. Both Avey and Deakin play guitar throughout, and Avey typically played lead while Deakin provided a warm melodic underpinning. Feels was the last record to feature Panda Bear behind the kit until Centipede Hz, and his drumming is some of the best that he’s ever recorded, alternating from frantic tribal percussion on “The Purple Bottle” to serene minimalist rolls on “Loch Raven” and everything in-between. Geologist’s superb use of texture hit a new peak here, particularly throughout the dreamier compositions that made up side B. Tare’s singing is anything but conventional, swinging wildly between octaves mid-measure, and flipping from tender croons to blood-curdling shrieks on a dime. Panda’s vocals continued to play a larger role in their music, and throughout Feels his voice acts most frequently as additional texture that lends their music an ethereal glow. In addition to larger contributions from all of the members besides Tare no other record of theirs features as much from outside collaborators. The piano playing courtesy of Doctress (who was married to Tare at the time) and the violin playing courtesy of Eyvind Kang add quite a bit of unexpected dimension that evens out the record’s more warped leanings. Despite everything that’s going on the instruments all have quite a bit of breathing room thanks to the record’s superb mixing and pacing. No single element ever dominates, and the amount of variation on display is a marvel.

Feels tells you everything that you need to know about its sentiments in the title alone. From the opening track “Did You See the Words” all the way through to the closer “Turn Into Something”, the band chronicle the euphoria of falling in love on the first side, and detail the poignancy of enduring heartbreak on the second side. With the exception of the superb, droning breather “Flesh Canoe”, that bridges the adrenaline burst of “Grass” to the grand, propulsive shuffle of “The Purple Bottle” the first side translates the euphoria of falling in love with infectious giddiness. It’s here where Avey’s delivery is at his most delirious and unpredictable, and he provides two of his greatest vocal performances with “Did You See the Words” and “The Purple Bottle”. “Did You See the Words” establishes the scope of the record as Tare recites the sparks that led to the relationship with keen details “Have you seen them?/The words cut open/Your poor intestines can’t deny/When the inky periods drip from your mailbox and/Blood flies dip and glide reach down inside/There’s something living in these lines” as his voice enthusiastically zig-zags around Panda’s minimalist tribal percussion. “The Purple Bottle” articulates the pure bliss of a relationship in its honeymoon phase, and features what’s quite possibly the most expressive vocal performance of Tare’s to date as he fantasizes about a future with his girlfriend “Well I’d like to spread your perfume around the old apartment/Could we live together and agree on the same wares/A trapeze is a bird cage and even if its empty it definitely fits the room/And we would too”. Naturally, things take a turn for the worse.

Side B is what really elevates Feels to a classic, and it’s the strongest stretch of songs that AC have ever recorded. Even though “Bees” is technically the conclusion of side A, tonally, and especially sonically, it fits far better with the rest of side B. Over chiming autoharp drones and sprinkles of piano, Avey depicts the calm before the storm “They came wide/So wild, the bees/They came crying/They said, “I’d take my time/You take your time/Please take your time”” as Panda’s angelic croon glides across the mix like a mirage. It’s a breathtaking moment of mesmerizing tranquility that emerges just before the clouds begin to take shape. We then transition into “Banshee Beat”, the centerpiece of Feels, and arguably one of the best songs that the band ever recorded. On “Banshee Beat” Avey depicts how his relationship fell apart after he learned that his girlfriend cheated on him, and every second of the sublime, nearly 8-and-a-half-minute song is necessary. “Banshee Beat” opens to wispy trails of droning guitar and brief spurts of piano as Avey solemnly sets the tone “Oh there’ll be time, to get by, to get dry, after the swimming pool/Oh there’ll be time, to just cry, I wonder why, it didn’t work out”. The song then slowly builds up steam as melodic guitar chords cut through the drone set against Panda’s nimble, chugging rhythm. Avey looks back on the memories that he and his ex had together, and despite his sorrow, he comes to the conclusion that he’s far better off without her in his life, and the song reaches a cathartic coda that features wordless harmonies between him and Panda as the song spirals into silence.

After “Banshee Beat” we’re led into “Daffy Duck”, the record’s most surreal, structure-less drone song. The guitar textures that Deakin provides here are some of the most immersive in their discography, and Avey’s at his most abstract “And if I had volcano boots/For swimming in volcanoes/Do you know the origins of laughing ducks?/Oh what’s a matter with those words”. It plays like a dream sequence that emerges right at the tail-end of the glowing resolution from “Banshee Beat” right into “Loch Raven”, one of the record’s other high-points. “Loch Raven” is perhaps the closest that AC have come to writing a straight-up lullaby, and it’s equally haunting and life-affirming thanks to the understated melodic sweep and soft, high-pitched textures that wafts through every corner of the mix. Panda’s honeyed tenor is unbearably tender as he repeatedly sings “I will not give up on you” juxtaposed against Avey referencing lines from Little Red Riding Hood that contextualize his cheating partner as the wolf plotting her deception. It’s truly something that couldn’t have been written by any other band, and it’s the last completely ambient song on the second side before the explosive finale, “Turn Into Something”. “Turn Into Something” is a classic sounding AC song, defined by explosive yelps from Avey alongside droning guitar, sprightly piano, and a bouncy floor-tom beat courtesy of Panda. At the 4-minute mark everything breaks apart and the song transitions into a ambient conclusion with Tare and Bear’s vocals floating through the ether as the droning guitars chime around them. It’s just as effective as a conclusion to Feels as it is an entry point into their work as a whole.

Merriweather Post Pavilion is easily the most successful record that AC have ever released, and most critics will tell you that it’s their best work, but it doesn’t come close to Feels across most conceivable metrics. Feels is the sound of the band firing on all cylinders, having developed exponentially as musicians and songwriters within the span of just five years. It didn’t push their sound forward quite as much as Strawberry Jam, nor did it signal quite as dramatic a leap in song craft as ST, but no other record of theirs succeeds in tackling so much ground with such remarkable consistency across the board. Feels was the last record that AC released before Panda Bear’s landmark solo LP Person Pitch irreversibly changed the entire trajectory of indie music, and influenced them to begin using samplers as the focal point of their compositions over guitars. Like all of their great records from Ark onwards, there are traces of everything that they had done prior on Feels, but listening to this record still leaves the impression that they could truly go anywhere. With almost any other band that’s ever existed, that claim is mostly disingenuous, but up until Centipede Hz the possibilities for AC truly seemed limitless, and that unprecedented unpredictability remains a key component of their appeal to this day. No 2 of their 10 records sound alike, and while they’ll almost certainly never again release anything that comes close to touching the pure bliss of Feels, the magic of this record is still an absolute marvel to revisit every time.

Essentials: “Banshee Beat”, “Loch Raven”, “The Purple Bottle”

1. Person Pitch- Panda Bear

By the time that Panda Bear (aka Noah Lennox) released Person Pitch he had moved from Brooklyn, New York to Lisbon, Portugal, gotten married, and his band Animal Collective were rapidly growing into one of the defining bands of the 21st century, but even knowing all the ground that they covered in such a short span could hardly have prepared anyone for anything as singular as PP. The last solo record that Panda released prior to PP was his gorgeous, yet devastatingly poignant 2004 folk record Young Prayer, a tribute to his late father who passed that same year from brain cancer. On PP the analog instrumentation that defined YP and Panda’s past work with AC was opted out entirely in favor of compositional approach informed by plunderphonics that was spurred by his increasing fondness of producers like Madlib, and his formative musical influences like GAS, The Orb, and Daft Punk. The end result is a remarkably rendered patchwork of disparate sounds that span the scope of recorded music history tied together with Panda’s signature tenor, and his sharp ear for sequencing. While PP isn’t technically a plunderphonics record due to the incorporation of Panda’s vocals recorded fresh for these compositions, it’s still more wide-ranging, and superbly realized than any plunderphonics record released before or since. PP went on to completely shift the trajectory of indie music in the years since its release, and very few artists have managed to release an album that matches the scope of this dazzling breakthrough since.

PP is superbly sequenced into seven songs, two of which broach the 12-minute mark, with well-placed comedowns emerging right after the epics. The songs consist of loops cherry-picked from old records that Panda was exposed to during his time working at the Other Music record store in Brooklyn throughout the early aughts. The music shifts and contorts on a whim, segueing through different motifs with acute finesse while drawing through lines between various eras of music that may have been previously unthinkable, but nonetheless seem to sound like natural evolutions in Panda’s hands. Nothing sounds out of placed or forced because of the careful sequencing, and the precise tweaking of the samples that are being deployed. The opening song “Comfy in Nautica” perfectly sets the tone as a choir of vocals descend upon what sounds like an ascending roller coaster, and samples of racing cars. The construction is simple, but striking, and the tone he achieves is one of pure humility established with his homespun mantras of self-preservation “Coolness is having courage/Courage to do what’s right/Try to remember always/ Just to have a good time”. Whether it’s the dreamlike glide of “I’m Not”, or the cozy, glowing conclusion “Ponytail” the samples that Panda utilizes perfectly achieve the aesthetics of what the songs themselves are striving for. Everything is meticulously placed, and a single shift would disrupt the lean symmetry of the whole.

Nothing on PP underwhelms, but the high points are among the most remarkable achievements throughout the history of sample-based composition. “Take Pills” starts with what sounds like a lumbering stroll along a cobblestone road with percussion cribbed from Scott Walker’s “Always Coming Back to You” as Panda’s sighs guide the caravan forward unassumingly, but after several minutes the song transitions smoothly into jaunty surf rock propelled by a sample courtesy of “The Popeye Twist” by The Tornadoes. The shift is immense, but nothing about it scans as gimmicky or unnatural, and the ease with which the song transitions belies the ingenuity on display. “Bros”, almost certainly the most celebrated song of Panda Bear’s solo career, is a masterful 12 and a half minute tour de force that cycles through various eras of pop music’s history with the sharp precision of DJ set. Beginning with another sample from The Tornadoes (this time in the form of “Red Roses and a Sky of Blue”), “Bros” establishes a merry-go-round framework that never manages to sound stale within the course of its 12 and a half minutes. The acoustic guitar thrust sampled off of Cat Steven’s “I’ve Found a Love” alongside Panda’s harmonies that forever recall those of Brian Wilson propel the second act of “Bros” up until its life-affirming third act that gets a great deal of mileage out of a sampled vocal loop from The Equal’s “Rub a dub dub”. PP’s other epic, “Good Girl / Carrots”, spends its first 3 minutes spiraling through a dub freakout that eventually folds neatly into a rousing, spring-loaded midsection featuring some of the finest melodies that Panda has ever sung. As the song transitions into its carnival-esque, music box final act with a sample from Kraftwerk’s “Ananas Symphonie” Panda caps things off with a rejection of the sort of music nerd hive fandom that helped propel him to such heights in the first place as noisemakers soar along the periphery of the mix. The peaks of “Bros” and “Good Girl / Carrots” are astonishing, and those two songs alone cemented Panda Bear’s status at the vanguard of sample-based composition.

The lyrics throughout PP are heartfelt admissions from someone whose life had undergone massive shifts within the few years leading up to it. The release of AC’s landmark LP Sung Tongs in 2004 allowed him and the rest of AC to begin sustaining a career in music, and that very same year his father died, he decided to move from New York to Portugal after falling in love with a woman while on vacation from tour, and he soon after married her. The warmth seeping out of the music on PP reflects the atmosphere that Panda suddenly found himself immersed in much in the same way that AC’s superb 2003 record Ark was informed by the chaos of their lives in Brooklyn. “Take Pills” grapples with the history of Panda’s family’s reliance on anti-depressants “Take one day at a time/Everything else you can leave behind/Only one thing at a time/Anything more really hurts your mind”. “Bros” is a plea to his brother Matt for space to live his own life in the wake of their father’s passing “I’m not trying to forget you/I just like to be alone/Come and give me the space I need/And you may you may you may you may/You may find that we’re alright” while on “Good Girl / Carrots” Panda’s taking taste makers to task for trying to instill a false sense of superiority over those who aren’t as informed on underground music “Get your head out from those mags and websites who try to shape your style/Take a risk yourself and wade into the deep end of the ocean”. On the album’s closer, “Ponytail”, Panda offers up little more than “When my soul starts knowing/I am as I’d want to be/And I know I never will stop caring”, but it’s a perfectly fitting conclusion to the record, and as sincere a sentiment as anything I’ve heard on any album. The overwhelming sincerity of the music is tempered by a beyond-his-years wisdom that’s well-earned and deeply empathetic.

Panda Bear released three solo LPs following PP, and the approach on this record has gone on to inform all of the AC records that have followed in its wake. The influence of this record simply cannot be overstated. As easy as it is to roll your eyes at chillwave and the “vibe” generation, everyone from Tame Impala to Travis Scott owes an enormous debt to Panda Bear. As the bulk of their peers began to stick to their respective lanes Panda and the rest of AC continued to swing wildly between trends and genres throughout the last decade, leaving their stamp on various forms before pivoting wildly to where their muses led them next. Thankfully, Panda has continued to push his sound forward throughout his solo career as well, and even when returning to sample-based composition for his stellar 2015 fifth solo record, Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper, it marked a clear shift towards the influence of hip-hop and house, and away from the minimal techno meets psychedelic guitar pop that PP favored in abundance. No musical artist throughout the 21st century has covered as much ground as consistently or as impressively as Panda Bear, and PP still stands as one of the few truly idiosyncratic statements from any artist throughout the last decade. It’s aged tremendously well in the years since its release, and it still presents a disarmingly well-realized euphoria that couldn’t sound more radical in the moody, deconstructed landscape of music that has defined this current decade.

Essentials: “Bros”, “Good Girl / Carrots”, “Take Pills”