#what went through my mind before going into area zero

[trainer-silv]

Cop: You're receiving a ticket for having 3 people on a...Cyclizar?

MC: Shit.

Arven: Wait, 3?

Cop: Yeah??

Nemona: OH SHIT PENNY FELL OFF

[matan4il]

The other day, I went with my rl bff to the Jerusalem branch of the Museum of Tolerance for an exhibition on the Hamas massacre.

This is the sight that greeted us. "Esthers of the world, rise up!"

It's a poster celebrating two women whose families had lived in Iran, one is Jewish, the other is Muslim, and both women ended up being murdered due to the Islamic regime of that country, even though the Jewish woman's family had escaped Iran and fled to Israel after the Islamic revolution. The face of each girl is actually a composite, made from many smaller pictures of her people who have lost their lives because of the Islamist regime of Iran.

I knew this right away, because I have shared a piece that was done about the poster and how it came to be almost 2 months ago. 

"You don't understand!" my bff (who works as a teacher) said, all emotional, "She," my friend points to the Jewish girl on the left side of the poster, Shirel Haim Pour, "is the cousin of one of my students."

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 

We go in and join the tour of the exhibition. The guide tells us it was built jointly with Malki Shem Tov, who is a well known name in Israel, if you work at a museum. Malki founded a "creative visual solutions" company with his brother Assaf, through which among other things, they helped build many Israeli exhibitions over the years. "His son..." the tour guide starts to say and I don't need more than that for something to click in my head. I know so many of the names, faces and stories of the hostages, and so Omer Shem Tov pops right away into my mind. I didn't make the connection before, but now I can only imagine what it meant for this father to work on an exhibition that recounts, among other stories, how his son was victimized and robbed of his freedom during this massacre.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 

The opening wall has a huge time stamp, 6:29 in the morning. 

The tour guide doesn't have to explain this number to Israelis, or why it's designed to look like an alarm clock display. We were all woken up on that fateful Saturday morning by the alarm clock of Hamas' rockets. And it doesn't matter what we thought or believed the day before, as the full scale and horror of the attack were starting to become known along Oct 7, we were all woken up.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and those atrocities. I know this, and still it strikes me, again and again.

There's an area dedicated to the pictures of one photographer who went to the south soon after the massacre. I knew some of them already, like the pic showing the bodies of 13 elderly Israelis, who were on their way to a tour of the Israeli south on that Saturday.

Some are new, like the pic of the door handle in one bomb shelter. I stop for a second, because now that I've moved into my new place, it hits me that the bomb shelter door was made by the same company. Suddenly, I feel like I'm inside the picture in a reality where the terrorists took a slightly different route on Oct 7. The door was photographed from inside the bomb shelter, and the bullets that pierced it, they had to have hit the personal holding it shut. The handle has blood stains on it, and it's broken off. I can only imagine how many hours this person held, and how much force they had to use, for that to happen. I know one thing, even without knowing exactly who this bomb shelter belonged to... If this person was on their own, they would have probably ended up surrendering rather than keep fighting to hold on to the handle this desperately. This was likely someone trying to keep their family safe. 

One note retrieved from the body of a terrorist is on display. It says everything about the motivation of the monsters who committed these atrocities, and every word is purely motivated by antisemitism and religious zeal. The note is actually not in Arabic, as it may first appear, it's in Farsi, the language spoken in Iran, hinting at the source, the Islamist regime there, which doesn't care about the liberation of anyone, it aspires to create a global network of fanatic terrorism.

The translation: "You must sharpen the blades of your swords and be pure in your intentions before Allah. Know that the enemy is a disease that has no cure, except beheading and uprooting the hearts and livers. Attack them!"

There is a section dedicated to women's stories. The exhibition visitors spread out to watch the testimonies, each on a separate screen. It's a not like a forest, you can't really see it for the trees, and it's another moment of feeling overwhelmed because we can't truly get it. It's just not comprehensible, facing so many stories about intentional, face to face cruelty, brutality, sadism and joy in it. Mali Shoshana tells the story of how she tried to play dead while lying shot in a pool of her own blood, but her body wouldn't stop shaking, so she somehow turned on her side to the wall and knocked her injured knee against it, causing herself to pass out from the pain. It saved her life. Ricarda Louk tells the story of the last message they got from her daughter Shani, trusting she was right and there was nothing for them to worry about. Then Ricarda's son started screaming and crying, because he saw the same vid many of came across on that day, of his sister being dragged into Gaza stripped down, mutilated, abused, molested and humiliated, while Gazan civilians were celebrating the public degradation of her body. And there's more and more and more. "You can come back and continue to listen," the guide promises as he moves us to the next segment, but the truth is no matter how many stories I've listened to and absorbed, it still doesn't feel like enough.

There is a wall with the head shots of the victims in Israel who lost their lives due to this war, whether they were murdered on Oct 7 or since, but it's only been updated up until Mar 27 of this year. Even so, no matter what angle I tried, I couldn't fit in all of the pictures.

Interactive screens allow a geographic telling of the massacre's story. They show maps of Israel's south, with dots on them, red for the murdered, dark blue for hostages, bright blue for hostages who have been returned, grey for the injured. You can tap a dot and read a story. Or you can zoom out and try to comprehend how is it possible for there to be that many dots on the maps.

"From darkness to light," reads the exhibition title. That's the perception of time in Judaism. We always move from darkness to light. And there's a section for the light, for stories of resilience, of bravery, of rehabilitation, of mutual support and caring. Filmed interviews that do their best to summarize an incomprehensible amount of good we've seen in response to an incomprehensible amount of evil. It features people from every demographic in Israel, and in that way also serves as a reminder of just how diverse we are as a society.

This part, I think to myself, was included for visitors from abroad. We Israelis, we know.

There's one story I know already. Tomer Greenberg, an Israeli officer, rescued on Oct 7 baby twins from the carnage. He was later killed fighting in Gaza. Like a puzzle, I've heard this story from several angles, including from Tomer before he died. This movie features an interview I hadn't heard yet, with the volunteer paramedic that Tomer handed the twins to. Shalom, this medic, talks about how they clung to him desperately as they got to be fed and feel safe and cared for again for the first time in what's estimated to have been 14 hours. I'm sitting there, thinking of those babies crying, not understanding why their parents aren't coming to feed them, and I don't know how to deal with this.

Shalom shares that the experiences of Oct 7 have inspired him to try and become a combative soldier, something that wasn't on the cards for him before that. I wonder again at people who can act like subjecting an entire (already traumatized) society to a sadistic massacre can liberate anyone.

And I understand Shalom fully. When your family is in the pits of hell, there's nowhere you want to be other than there, with them, doing what you can, rather than sit and watch helpless from afar. Most people would say he did a lot on that day. Shalom must have felt like that still wasn't enough.

At the very end, visitors are invited to add their own little piece of light, through neon notes and pens on which they'd share their thoughts. Nothing feels like it can sum everything I'm thinking and feeling up, but not writing anything feels worse, so my bff and I add a few of our words to the notes.

I don't have any profound conclusions for this post anymore than I did for my note. I just know that this still hurts, that we're still losing people daily, that we can't begin to heal, because we're still in the middle of the wound being inflicted. But I also know that we WILL heal, that even if the wound can't be closed yet, our collective immune system kicked into action on Oct 7 already, that we will continue to share the pain and the comfort and the care, and this massacre and war will probably never stop hurting, that we'll never be the same, but eventually we will be alright. Where people choose to care, there's just no other option.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[elswing]

i've had the new elf OCs for two seconds and i'm already so attached oh my GOD. camnir!!!!!!!!!!! to be fair we spent a year in mass delusion convinced he was celeborn so i'm predisposed to adoring him but it doesn't help that he turned out to be my dream characterisation of galadriel's nerd house husband. you hear The Wise™ i hear slightly dorky, zero social skills, has at least seventeen highly niche interests that he's the world-renowned expert of purely because no one else in their right mind finds them interesting enough to bother learning about

anyway i doubt the show will explore them since they simply don't have time for fully rounded side characters but that just means i get to invent whole backstories and personalities for them in my head >:}

elrond asking galadriel to pick the warriors for the company implies that he was the one who picked the mapmaker, since a fellow scholar would fall under his expertise whereas the combatants would be galadriel's

WHICH!!!!! means that at the very least he knows camnir and has worked with him before. technically that could also mean they're old friends. study buddies????

i think whatever exclusion elrond went through for being peredhel was less outright scorn and more wariness/stiffness because they just didn't know what to make of him, either because of his biological fuckery or the intimidating presence of his heritage. camnir is completely exempt from this simply because he is too oblivious to follow a social norm

also he just. does not care all that much

he's originally a sindar, but he applied for an apprenticeship in lindon after he'd learned all he could from the mapmakers in eryn galen

he was offered a permanent position there after completing it, but in the early days when he thought his time was limited all he wanted to do was study

he and elrond became friends purely because of how much time they both spent in the library. neither of them spoke much and they didn't interact outside of it due to their interests and studies encompassing different areas, but eventually they both settled on the same table and spent many nights in quiet company

he's a little awkward and doesn't interact well with the noldorin elves, and though they view him as a bit of an oddity, most of them chalked it up to "ah, well, he's sindar. maybe that's normal where he's from"

it is not. he loves his home and his people, and like them he is very attuned to nature and loves passing time with wildlife or in the forests. he did not, however, inherit their love for festivities, as he found them horribly loud and the constant movement made him nervous. he mislikes the unpredictability of them

this is also why he was so drawn to mapmaking. he likes the precision and focus they require to draw, and one of the only times he can find inner quiet is when he's making those calculations

he also has a great love of botany. he spent most of his younger years with his nose buried in a book, reading about the plantlife that could be found beyond eriador's borders

he used to enjoy babbling about his findings to his younger sister when she was a baby, or to their grandparents who raised them after they were orphaned in the war

they were happy to indulge him, but if all else failed he would go into the forest and talk to the trees instead

he's very young compared to the other elves in the company, and the only one without much experience in combat. they took one look at him and unanimously went 🫵 baby. baby brother

camnir was fully aware from the start that he was out of his depth, so he asked the others to teach him some fighting manoeuvres.

daemor suggested archery, as he might benefit from a longer range weapon while he was too inexperienced for close combat. unfortunately his aim was comically bad and rían was forced to ban him from coming within three feet of a bow after he accidentally fired three (3) arrows that missed their marks so badly they almost skewered elrond

(elrond was so focused on glaring suspiciously at galadriel & nenya that he didn't notice)

they also had to remind him multiple times not to wander into rían's path while she was wielding a bow just because he wanted a closer look at an interesting patch of moss

he DID prove to be adept at wielding a knife, so vorohil entrusted him with one of his own

he grew very fond of daemor after discovering his love of singing. camnir taught him some drinking songs he remembered from his youth, and daemor spent most of their night-time treks humming them

he was very sad when he died. being shot at and then magically healed disorientated him at first, but the only thing that successfully soothed him was when they promised to stop and give daemor a small funeral ceremony

him, vorohil and rían definitely survive the siege of eregion and go on to help elrond build imladris btw. they reside there all the way through to the third age. no one gets boromir'd full of arrows or written off or dies off-screen. Btw.

[sonicexelle-junkary]

I have suddenly gotten very hyper-fixated on FNF vs Sonic.exe (insert update/ encore) which led to me being back into Sonic and Sonic.exe, Then I found your blog while catching up on 10 years of missed lore and I am over the moon!!! I love the corruption!AU its gorgeous, I just read through everything I could in the tag lol I do have a few questions though- maybe suggestions to stew ups some ideas, just suggestions <3 I saw a post about how did Sonic get infected? My brain went right to "How did The Rot get on the planet? Was it dwelling underground or..." What my brain went to was an astroid and Sonic being Sonic went to check it out, because he's the hero! he has to make sure people are okay! But that made me think? Would Sonic be patient zero? or are there a bunch of others who have turned already? City's are canon within the comics. The Rot wants to infect would it restrain itself? Say like scoping the area, say go out act as normal as possible and observe others, looking for the biggest group of people (family, friends, etc.) strategizing basically? or does it attack first chance? would it be able to use its host's "powers" like chaos control, Sonic's speed, Silver's telegnosis, and Espio's invisibility? What does it do when there's nothing left to consume? one last thing, wherever it comes from, would it have to practice speaking? like patient zero, being the first to be consumed, would it have to "test it out"? Sorry for the rant, I'm just in love!! <3 It has my gears turning

I’m glad you like the au! This type of story has always been my favourite, so seeing people enjoy it makes me very happy!

A few of these questions have already been answered in previous asks, so I’ll answer the ones that I haven’t answered yet

How did The Rot come to Sonic’s world? Is Sonic patient zero?- Now that’s spoiler territory. You’ll know soon enough. He is ‘patient zero’. That’s all I’ll tell you.

Would The Rot restrain itself from infecting? Does it attack first chance?- The Rot doesn’t have an ‘urge’ to spread. It’s just doing what it wants to do. Like an animal in nature. It will wait as long as it needs to before it infects someone, that wait time can be days or weeks, even months if it comes to that.

Would it have to practice speaking?- Not exactly. It already knows how to speak as it can simulate lungs and vocal cords and whatever else it needs to speak. Though it takes a while before their hosts voice becomes less layered and growly and more clear and unsuspecting. The more hosts it has, the easier it can be to speak clearly. Until then, it rarely speaks in front of others, only saying short words or sentences when it needs to.

What does it do when there’s nothing left to consume?- Well, there has been a thought bubbling around in my mind about that for a while… but I sure ain’t gonna tell you it. You’re just gonna have to figure that question out yourself.

[kaybreezy3000]

The Anti Hero's Pitfall of Arrogance

Five Hargreeves / Female OC

What happens when you disarm an exceptionally arrogant person, one that is a self-absorbed, teleporting, teenaged superhero?

The answer is not great things.

Get ready for a taste of Five like you've never had before...

(Chapters 5, 6, and 7 post to complete this story)

- This AU starts off when the Hargreeves are 16 and but is based off the show. It's going to give you a look inside Five's mind at that time of his life and not all of it is good, but I promise it's not all bad. I always make sure to give our boy his day to shine.

Warnings and Tags: sexually explicit content, flashbacks, teen bad behavior, survival horror, bad decisions, regret, POV Five, aggression issues, suffering, humor and angst and fluff, redemption, sweet Five and mean Five in same story, Dolores is a factor, hurt Number Five, Five makes fun and dirty check lists in this one, Young Five is really something, Plot twists and many tags left off to avoid spoiling the story.

Link to Chapters 1 and 2.

Link to Chapters 3 and 4

Chapter Five: Snowman

Phoebe Leroux = Undeniably Extraordinary.

When we were sixteen, I never even asked her last name before I enthusiastically felt her up and then aggressively stuck my dick down her throat.

Five Hargreeves = World’s biggest asshole.

My ax slams down through the log, the pieces fling to the side, falling in the pile at my feet.

Thanks to Phoebe, I still have both my feet, and I also have my life.

It has only been three months since the day she found me, and it’s already falling below zero at night and it’s not much better during the day. It went from a world so hot you could hardly breathe, to so cold I feel like I’m going to freeze my nuts off every time I’m out here.

With temperatures consistently this low, we are rapidly depleting our indoor supply of firewood. There’s plenty here thanks to our location and the home’s prior occupant and their neurotic preparations, but if we are going to keep our fire lit, one of us needs to come out and get more wood several times a day.

Even with Fee’s special warming powers, heating the one room cabin all night is something she’s not capable of. The second she’s asleep, she can’t control the temperature of anything other than herself and the things she’s touching. Unless we want to wake up in a room that feels like an icebox, we need a fire going in our stone hearth.

I slam the heavy ax back down again, splitting my last piece of wood, then I look back towards the house. The sun fell below the horizon over a half hour ago, but it was never sunny during the day and hasn’t been for two weeks. I had hardly noticed it was getting dark, but now I see that the ghostly shadows from the last hazy light are stretching across the yard, out from the equally haunted looking ruined forest to the west.

I’m sure Phoebe is wondering what in the hell is taking me so long. We have plenty of branches and larger dry pieces of wood already cut up. All I needed to do was go get them and that should have taken less than five minutes. I saw her peeping out the window, checking on me a few times, but I pretended that I didn’t see her.

Deliberately delaying going in, I slowly start stacking the wood in the drum of the wheelbarrow. I hate making her do everything, so I came out, but it’s also because I needed to clear my head. Unfortunately, even this cold fucking air isn’t helping set me straight.

Nothing is lately.

Once I go in, it’s going to be another one of those long nights, and the colder it gets, the closer we need to be and the harder this is.

Cart loaded; I stare blankly at the ground. I still can’t bring myself to go in. I am engulfed in a cloud of white vapor as I release another frazzled sigh. Arms dangling sulkily at my sides, I begin to aimlessly pace the open area of our yard.

After tossing a few rotten branches out into the brush pile, I wander over to the greenhouse and start inspecting a window I repaired over a month ago.

Fee finding his place, which is an entire survivalist’s estate that was featured on one of those dooms’ day preppers TV shows, once again proves how sheltered I was growing up, and how little I know about what regular people do in their free time. I never would have found this place without her and that’s because I never would have watched reality TV shows even if dad would have let us watch TV. Fee only saw the show once, but that was enough for her to remember it.

I glance up, looking back at the cabin again. I can see the glow of the oil lamp on our small kitchen table inside. She left it going for me. It’s like a signal, telling me I should get my skinny ass inside and stop being so stupid.

Still dawdling, I make my way around the glass grow-house, testing window frames that I already know will hold up just fine in the vicious winter winds since they already withstood the massive shockwaves that tore through this area five years ago.

When Fee found me, I was in Nowheresville Pennsylvania, but I was almost in bum-fuck West Virginia, which is where we are now at our posh hillbilly haven. This cabin was strategically built into the side of a rock cliff, and it is fully intact thanks to its fortified construction and because of its shielded location in the Alleghanian Mountains. The vast store of supplies that were stored underground are plentiful and unspoiled. There’s even a freshwater spring on property that tests in a much safer drinking range than anything I have had in the last five years. This is also where Fee found the off-road jeep that she used to recuse me.

This place is a huge blessing, but so is she. With Fee by my side, my life would be a million times easier no matter where I was.

During my first days here, I learned so many things about her, one being that she hadn’t been in this area very long which made her and I crossing paths even more of a miracle. The other thing I discovered, though I should have already known, is that she is inherently kind and compassionate and extremely sharp. She can take any problem and find a viable solution, continually surprising me with how fast and cleverly she can think outside the small box of numbers and figures my mind is used to operating in.

Staggering into the cabin that first night, I was completely at her mercy. I was still too weak to get up without her help and she pretty much had to carry me again.

She did everything for me. I never had to ask.

One of the nicest things she did (and there were many) was she washed my appallingly soiled and pathetically boney body. I hadn’t properly washed for weeks, so she had her work cut out for her. She cleaned and rewrapped my injured foot while I was knocked out from her glorious pain meds, but the rest happened the next morning after I woke up, after she made sure I ate my fill of breakfast first. She did it all in such a way to let me keep what was left of my dignity. Inch by inch, limb by limb, and other areas too, she kept me mostly covered as she bathed me with warm, soapy wash clothes.

With as close to death as I had been, it felt like I had died and went to heaven having that done to me.

She rinsed me and helped me dress in comfortable, fresh clothing. She ensured I ate again and even carefully cleaned and reclothed Dolores, always making sure she was by me, but never saying anything about my intense emotional and deep physical connection to her.

Fee could plainly see that I was broken and not just on the outside. She never pushed me to talk, or in any other way. She just took care of me.

It wasn’t until almost a week later that I lamely attempted to explain Dolores to her by revealing that I found her just two days after burying my family. If it wasn’t bad enough that I cried in front of Fee several times already, when I talked about those first days, I cried again. She still never showed any signs of judgment about my mind falling apart so fast, or my need to cling to something outside of me to pretend that I wasn’t alone.

Fee was so sweet about it all, and I still don’t know how to grasp that or everything I am feeling about her.

She always makes it her priority to take care of me. Even letting me be the one to come out here in the bitter cold took some convincing. I insisted that I had to take a leak, otherwise I knew she would have stuffed her feet in her boots and came out without even needing layer upon layer to keep her warm like I do.

Fee coddles me, but she has her reasons. One being that, since she found me, I am the weak link in this relationship.

That has to change.

Straightening my back, I walk back over to the loaded wheelbarrow. Digging the heels of my boots into the frozen ground, I thrust the handles down, forcing the weight onto the front tire so I can get it moving forward.

“Fuck,” I groan because it feels like every muscle in my body is being put to the test just to keep the stupid thing level. “I fucking hate wheelbarrows, they don’t make any fucking sense!” I shout out to no one because I’m nuts. At least I’m getting stronger again, but I have a long way to go in the brain department and physically.

It took three days after nearly dying before I could walk normally on my own. Phoebe would stay with me most of the time if I was awake, keeping me company by reading to me until I dozed off again. It was as if she knew my mind was badly troubled by things I couldn’t articulate and she was trying her best to help me run from my demons even for just a little while.

Sadly, I couldn't escape the horrors I had been through no matter how much I enjoyed listening to the soothing rhythm of her voice.

On day two, when I was doing so much better, and I was awake most of the day. We talked more and more, but mostly I listened. I had little to tell her other than where I’d been since coming here, which wasn’t very far compared to her.

I learned that after our first fateful encounter, Fee went on to do many things, including getting her citizenship. Life wasn’t easy for her or what many would call conventional, but like she said the day I met her, she is extremely resourceful, and like now, she got things done no matter what and she survived.

Phoebe traveled the world, often with hardly a dime to her name. She had many jobs related to performing and music, and many that didn’t. She is the kind that radiates happiness, and people naturally gravitate to that, so there were plenty of interesting friends made along the way and even some people that sound like they were more than friends, though she didn't elaborate on those relationships. I had nothing similar to share, so I just listened, imagining her free spiritedly drifting through her life.

During our many talks, Fee has always been forthcoming, but she always keeps her stories positive in nature and I think it’s for my benefit. She doesn’t want to make me think of more bad things. But even with my lack of understanding people, I can tell that her inability to settle any one place very long wasn’t simply because she didn’t want to. It was out of necessity.  

She virtually had nothing, and she never told anyone about what she could do. Only her mother had known. Putting herself out there like that in the public eye could have changed everything for her when it came to money worries, but it also would have meant living a life under constant scrutiny and expectations. She’d seen with my family what kind of exploitation could happen if suddenly the world knew you had superpowers.

Fee was scared to tell anyone the truth and that prevented anyone from ever really knowing her.

She wanted a normal life, but sadly it seems you can’t escape the isolation of being born this way. Looking back, I realize that is in part why she felt it was so important to tell me about 'others' with powers; she had hoped telling me meant she wouldn't have to be alone. She was searching for someone that would understand and that she could trust.

It makes me sick thinking about that and how badly I messed that up.

The night the world ended, Phoebe was alone because she often was. She was backcountry camping along the Colorado River. Her campsite was in an open box canyon so there was nothing out there to crush her. She was laying there, contemplating her next moves in life, but she was also stargazing. To her horror, she saw what looked like our moon breaking apart. Then even more shocking, fire started raining down from the sky in all directions.

She told me how terrified she was and how that feeling didn’t get any better in the days after that. She survived because thanks to her powers, she can’t burn. She didn’t even know that till then, and that’s because in those first few hours after the initial blast, fire was taking everything that hadn’t already been destroyed. That part she said very little about and I can only imagine why. I arrived the next day and things and people were still burning but not like I am sure they were the day before.

The moon being blown apart makes no sense scientifically, but I believe her that's what happened. There’s no way our government agencies would have missed an enormous asteroid or a comet big enough to do that. That means something unnatural happened and I can’t help thinking my family was involved in some way. It’s just too coincidental that my home was blown to hell the day before, and that Luther was holding on to that eyeball.

After telling Phoebe my thoughts on that, it became our mutual goal to get back and do anything we can to try and save them, and all of humanity. It’s a lofty goal, but we both see no other way.

Now more than ever, I need to figure out a way to travel back, because I am certain that there is something I can do about what happened. Now I don’t need to just pull myself back through the unknowns of time, I need to bring her along for the ride too. There’s no way I’d leave her. She is my friend and my teacher, showing me how to survive in this place far better than I was before.

In what feels even more important, Fee shows me every day what it means to be loved.

Like she was that night I met her in that damp and dirty warehouse, Phoebe is all brightness and tenderness in this world of murky nothingness. Just watching her as we go about our days together makes my heart feel so heavy. Sometimes she leaves me speechless by simply smiling at me in that pretty way of hers while she's doing the most mundane tasks.

Anytime she shows me affection, it’s always innocently, but…

Yeah.

Yup, coming outside didn’t help. It’s just prolonging the inevitable.

I can’t hide out here forever and I am shivering so hard now my damn teeth are clattering together.

Getting on with it, I unload part of the wood by the door, then heave the sling full of the rest up on my shoulder before teetering up the steps with it. I am sure that by now Fee is done getting ready for bed, meaning she’s in bed.

Our bed…

Fuck, fuck, triple times a million fucks.

Dolores knows where my mind is at, and as always, she understands, but she also thinks I am being ridiculous. She loves Fee and has since day one. When we are out scavenging, Phoebe always makes a point to find little treasures to bring back for Dolores.

They are big time buddies now.

Fee decorates Dolores like she’s the queen of the apocalypse, dressing her in expensive pieces of jewelry and excessively feminine tops with sparkles and sequins. Basically, anything goes if it makes no sense in the conditions we are living in, and it’s the exact opposite of what either of us wear daily. I didn’t even realize Dolores liked all that stuff until Fee started doing that with her. Then I saw how happy it makes them both.

Fee treats Dolores like she’s real. But not since the first days, when I was still very sick, have I talked to or touched Dolores so openly when Fee was around. I know that a part of her doing this kind of thing is to try to make me feel like it’s okay if I want to do it too. But things have drastically changed for Dolores and I since Fee found us, and my normal mode of conduct with her has been strictly kept for when Fee is not around, which isn’t very often. I haven’t slept with Dolores in my arms since that first fevered night.

I love her but doing that with her, or doing much of anything else that I feel the urge to do feels very wrong now.

I do speak with Dolores all the time, but we keep our conversations private. Dolores knows I’m having a hard time navigating this bizarre situation, but she’s adamant that I open myself up to Fee. Like so many things, I don’t know how or if I should. I don’t want to ruin what we have.

Phoebe hasn’t let on that she has any feelings for me in other way than the friendly kind of way, and I can’t blame her. Back when she was head over heels for me, which for her was a long time ago, I wasn’t anything anyone else would look twice at. Here, even as the only man on Earth, I am clearly not a catch. She already gave me a chance even though she shouldn’t have, and I epically blew it, and now I’m even more of a mess than I was at sixteen. In a normal situation, a beautiful, mature woman like Fee would want nothing to do with a lanky, immature fuck-up like me.

I’d be laughing if this ironic twist of fate weren’t so fucking heart wrenching. My heart hurts when I think about how much I care about Fee.

I am completely crushing on the girl who once crushed on me and got her heart stomped on for it.

“Fuck,” I mumble when I realize my frozen fingers won’t tighten around the doorknob enough to turn it. “Fuck you, you fucking-"

It finally clicks open, and I ram my head into it to push the door wide. With my giant load of wood, I stumble from the weight of it, then unsteadily kick the door closed behind me and loudly tromp over to the fireplace letting my sack tumble to the floor.

When I look across the small room, I can see that Fee is trying not to laugh over my graceless performance.

“Sorry,” I sheepishly offer, along with a lopsided grin. If my face wasn’t already bright red from the blistering cold, it would be now.

Sitting up straighter with her back against her pile of pillows, Fee lowers her book. “We weren’t trying to go to sleep yet, there’s no need to apologize for crashing through like the abominable snowman. Do you need some help with all that?”

By ‘we’ weren’t sleeping yet, Fee is referring to Dolores, who is sitting, wrapped in a fuzzy blanket on the chair next to my side of the bed, just like she is every night.

Yes. I sleep between two beautiful women, and I can’t touch either one the way I want.

Awesome.

Now Dolores is trying not to giggle at me.

I shake my head at her and covey my thoughts on that silently. I’m glad you’re entertained by my blue balls, sweetheart. 

After biting my glove to pull it off my numb hand, I spit it on the floor, then awkwardly clear my throat as I look back at Fee. “Ah, no. I’m good. Thank you though.”

The 'ahh' I stammered on just came out several octaves higher than normal because why not look like more of a moron?

Shucking my other glove off, I put my shaking hands down by the flames, bringing some immediate feeling back to them, then I busy myself with throwing more logs on, restacking the rest next to the wall and cleaning up the big mess I just made.

When I am done with all that and I’m over by the door again, kicking off my boots and peeling off my layers, I notice that Fee set her book on the side table and is staring at me with a cute but very devious look.

“We were getting a little worried in here. I thought maybe you accidently got too close when you were pissing on your favorite clothesline pole and that you accidentally froze your dick to it.”

Another thing I learned very quickly about Fee is that she’s got a wonderfully crude sense of humor.

My cheeks stretch and my lips pull to the side again. “No, I didn’t freeze my dick to a metal pole, but I did almost freeze.”

Freed of my layers, and only in fleece sleep pants and a sweatshirt, instead of blinking there, I sprint over to the bed, vaulting over the footboard with childlike enthusiasm.

The bed springs springing back, give Fee a good bounce and I knew this would make her laugh. That was part of the point of it, but it’s also because I am so flippin cold. Hiding outside was to avoid going to bed with her, but the reality is, this is exactly where I want to be.

I want it way too much, hence a major part of my problem.

Once I have crawled up next to her, I waste no time shuffling my body under the mound of blankets. When my freezing foot locks down over hers, she jolts from the chilly assault, but she doesn’t pull away because she never does. Within seconds, my entire body is warming back up. Currents of heat brush up my leg from our point of contact, spreading through my entire body as I melt into the mattress with a sigh of relief.

“Yowza! You are so cold! Why didn’t you just let me go out there? You could have pissed in that lovely chamber pot, or did your business and just came back in. You were out there for almost an hour, what the heck were you thinking?”

Unenthusiastically, I look over at the pot she’s referring to. I have used the pot. It was in my first days here when I didn’t want to make her carry me outside.

Looking at her overly sourly, I say, “I hate that thing and I won’t use it.”

She chuckles at that. “You hate a lot of things, one of them being cold, but you just willingly went out in it and stayed out when you didn’t need to. You are such a stubborn asshat. Sometimes I think you do things like this just to drive me nuts. It’s like your secret superpower that no one else ever was lucky enough to be privy to.” She sneaks a hand under the blankets and lightly prods my side, to provoke me further.

I want to ‘provoke’ her right back, but instead I frown at her.

She merely raises a brow, brining it on even more. “You know, Five, you could have just whacked-off in here?”

A puff of air rushes out of my chest and I think my face just lit on fire, but I stick my head further out of the blankets anyway, defiantly jutting my chin at her.

“My family was privy to my assholery, and I wasn’t whacking off. I was chopping wood and you know it.”

I seriously can’t think of anything better to retaliate with, and that’s probably because I have whacked off plenty of times while wandering around outside with her on my mind, and talking about jerking it right now isn’t helping me get my shit together or think with even the tiniest bit of intelligence.

Her body quakes with laughter as I narrow my eyes at her. “Yeah. Playing with your wood, like I said," she beautifully chackles.

Fully rolling over in her direction, I do my best pouty face. She gives me one right back.

“Miss, Leroux, you are awful.” I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold in my smile.

There’s scratching around under the blankets, and I can feel Fee fishing around until she finds my hand closest to her where it’s tucked under my tightly crossed arms. Her warm fingers wrap around mine as she offers a much less naughty look.

My stomach flutters from her touch and my heart rate kicks up accordingly.

“I am sorry. I’m just messing with you because you make it so darn easy. You know I love you, Five. I wouldn’t want to be here with any other asshat than you, and that’s only partly because you’re the special teleporting kind that is going to get us out of this apocalyptic shit hole.”

I can’t help my truly contented smile from hearing her say that she loves me. I know it’s not in that way, but I love that she says it, and how she’s looking at me right now, and that she’s touching me for reasons other than to warm me up, but it’s doing that too despite her intentions.

Phoebe’s strawberry blonde hair is tied back in her nightly braid, but the wavey pieces framing her face are just begging for me to tuck them back behind her ears. Just the memory of brushing her hair back so I could see her better while she pleasured me, how soft everything about her feels, how those pink lips felt against my own, and on my…

Fuck me, I need to go back outside.

I could lay here all night and stare at her while fighting boners, but I force myself to roll on my back again and she does the same about a minute later.

I feel her wiggle closer, causing our hips to touch as we both gaze up at the ceiling, watching the fire light dance on the beams.

“Someday we’ll leave this place,” I breathe. Getting us out of this is the most important thing. Her unintentionally reminding me of that important point has my fucked-up mind on my most recent equations and time dilation sequences rather than on her lips and my dick, and that’s a very good thing. “I’ll figure it out. I promise, I will.”

“I know you will because you are this planet's one and only, time traveling mastermind. Number Five Hargreeves, you are our only hope.” She softly laughs at me as she pulls her hand away from mine but not before sneaking in a quick tickle.

Man, do I want to tickle her, but I’m scared I won’t be able to stop there.

“Okay, that’s it,” I say squirming a little as her nails dig in between my ribs. “You’ve been allotted your making fun of Five time slot for the day. It’s time to be quiet. Keep those tiny magical heater feet of yours on me and go to bed, mean girl.” I say it with disgruntled authority, but I can’t help the full smile I am wearing.  

“You like it when I tease you.”

I do, but my response is nothing more than a dismissive huff that makes her let out another girly little giggle.

I peek her direction just in time to see her eyes shutting. She’s still smiling that curious smile of hers that I can only conclude means that she is happy and that makes me happy. What I want doesn’t matter when it comes to more than this.

I carefully move my arm out from under the bedding, taking Dolores’s hand in mine.

“Just tell her. It will be okay. Everything is okay now that we have her,” she whispers.

My tired eyes close and the fuzzy black and white stars start dancing behind my lids, but those lips and that smile will forever be imprinted in my mind and not even sleep lets me forget them. Soon, images and of the feel of her will fill my dreams, they always do.

------Sleepy, happy Five....

----------

The thing about winter in the Apocalypse is it’s even more unbearable to be outside than normal. We hardly ever go out lately, but that wasn’t stopping me this morning when I woke pre-dawn, determined to complete a very important mission.

Christmas is only a few days away and I have nothing for Fee. We are almost always together when scavenging and that’s for safety and practicality reasons, but today I snuck out early while she was still sleeping.

Months ago, while out foraging with her, I found a guitar in a case in the remains of someone’s bedroom. I didn’t even think to tell her about it or take it because I was so used to being solely focused on finding and bringing back only what I needed to survive. Looking back on that now, and the fact that I know Fee loves to play and is very good at it, I can’t believe I didn’t even consider taking it for her. It’s the perfect gift.

I wrote a note, stating that I’d be gone for an hour or so. I was hoping that she wouldn’t even wake up until I was back.

That was three hours ago now.

Even before I got down to the valley floor and started making my way through the deep snow to the closest town, the storm clouds were ominously moving in from the east and the freezing winds were cutting through the mask protecting my face. Being I’m on the western side of the range, I had no way of knowing how bad things were going to get, but even that is not a great excuse for putting myself in this situation.

The snow is falling fast, and the gusts are blowing it in such a way that I can hardly see a few feet in front of me at times. I think I’m on the right path, maybe?

Stopping, I clomp my snowshoes around in a circle formation as I recheck where I am. North, South, East, West, it all looks the same right now. Blinking won’t even get me back since I can’t orient myself.

“Shit.”

Fee is going to be livid.

Checking my compass and readjusting the strap on the case I have slung on my back, I start trudging uphill again, moving East. I’m going approximately the right direction. I’m sure I will see a landmark of some kind soon.

Not for over another hour do I know for certain I’m getting close. By then, I am too exhausted to pull off a jump.

By the time I am heading up the twisting inclined path that is the road into what is now Fee and my property, I have been gone a total of six and half hours.

Fee has the door of the cabin open even before I can make it to the snow buried steps.

Raising my stiff arm, I push my ski goggles up with my frozen mitten. Phoebe crashes into me, flinging her arms around me even though I am covered in ice and snow.

“Fee, I’m so-"

My snow blindness begins to clear after a few slow blinks.

Oh, shit. She’s crying.

“I thought you were gone! I looked everywhere. There weren’t even any tracks!” she hysterically sobs.

She’s holding me so tight that I can feel her shaking and I know it’s not from the cold.

“I’d never leave you,” I say, holding her right back, but it’s more like I’m pathetically slumped around her smaller frame.

Fuck, I feel like such a bastard.

With her tears streaking down her cheeks and the snow sprinkling her hair in downy white, she lets me go, but only enough to start towing me inside, loudly slamming the door behind us as I tiredly slouch into the closest kitchen chair.

I can hardly move, and I know I’m in deep shit.

Fee wipes at her eyes, as she kneels in front of me. Still sniffling, she immediately starts unstrapping my boots out of my snowshoes. She looks back up at me once my boots are thrown off, but she doesn’t release my sore feet from her hot hands. I wiggle my toes to give her confirmation that I didn’t turn them into two blocks of ice with my ill-timed expedition.

“What were you thinking? You could have died out there.” She releases my feet, and her hands come up to rub her temples.

I don’t know what to say. I feel so bad. She looks so hurt and that’s not at all what I wanted.

“I am sorry, I wanted to-"

I stop, taking a deeply defeated breath as my shame sets in even more. Dropping my head, I reach back and pull the frozen strap off my shoulder, bringing the hard black guitar case around in front of her.

Fee looks confused, meaning she’s so upset that she hadn’t even noticed it yet.

She takes it and I slowly lean back as I watch her unlatch the two clasps holding it closed. Her eyes run over the polished black acoustic guitar inside. All its strings are still intact, but even if they aren’t good, there are several other packages of new ones inside the case along with a few other things someone like her would know how to use.

“I wanted to get you a present. Merry early Christmas, Fee.”

Now, after seeing how anguished she is, this hardly seems like a good explanation for what I did, but it’s all I have.

Her brows pull down as her lips push out in a quivering pout.

Shit, she’s crying again.

Before I know it, Phoebe sets my gift aside, pushes up from the floor and starts draping herself around me again, only this time she’s got me pinned to the chair with her bottom in my lap, her spread legs dangled at my sides, and her magical warm lips pressing into mine.

I have wanted this for so long, but I can’t even begin to comprehend what is happening right now.

Worried that I’m going to scare her off, I very gradually turn my face up to get a better angle to kiss her back.

Her hips subtly rub up against mine in response and even through my sub-zero snow gear, I can feel it in all the right, or maybe wrong ways.

“Mmmmm- mmmfff!”

I am not even close to being able to hold that embarrassingly high-pitched moan in as she pushes herself closer and her hands move inside my hood, her hot fingers forcing their way under the heavy scarf still wrapped around neck.

Not sure what to do, I very hesitantly bring my hands up on her waist, slowly moving back down her curves until they are wrapped behind her, gently holding her bottom.

Despite my best efforts to contain myself, my tongue has a mind of its own and it darts out in my increasingly excited state, but she doesn't seem to mind. Fee letting me kiss her like this feels so good that my damn head feels like it could roll right off my shoulders. If not for her fingers splayed out on the back of my skull as they lightly tug at my hair, I'm sure it would. Phoebe clearly has me secured where she wants me.

Fuck… She wants me.

Maybe?

Yes.

Obviously.

I think…

“Fff-fff-e-Fee?”

“Hmm?” she hums back, still not stopping with her kisses. Now they are moving from my lips to my jaw, and-

My legs both spontaneously tense and my hands inside my mittens clench as I try to latch on to her ass even tighter.

“Ahh-ya-you- Ahhhh.” My words fail to land in a way that’s coherent as her mouth moves to what she can get of my neck.

Holy fuck, this feels amazing and it’s getting so hot in here or maybe it’s just me. Fuck. It’s both. I wish I wasn’t wearing all this crap.

My little goddess of fire and ice works me over a little more before she graces me with her stunning blue eyes gazing into my own much less alluring and very droopy ones.

Her plump pink lips spread in a coy looking smile as she speaks. “Thank you for the gift.”

“You like it?”

She nods a yes as she bites her lower lip with her upper teeth.

“Am I out of the doghouse then?” I question, even though I feel pretty certain I am.

Fee softly laughs at my question and maybe even at my attempt at a funny expression, which consists of me trying to conjure up some major puppy dog eyes for her. “You were never in it. I was just so scared I’d lost you.”

“I am so sorry. I never met to scare you. I would never leave you, Fee.” I pause and my words come out shaking as I say them but it’s only because of how much I mean them. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, Phoebe. You are everything to me.”

Suddenly her face looks so sad again and I desperately want to take back what I just said.

My eyes frantically search hers, but I don’t know what I’m seeing in them.

“I wanted to give you something special. You have done so much for me,” I further explain, because I don’t know what to say or do.

Her normally sure voice cracks just a little. “All I want is you, Five. You are my special, I thought you knew that by now.”

“You want me?”

“Yes. I love you. I want to be there for you, and with you in every way if you are ready for it. I thought you understood that.”

Oh.

My eyes dart around as my brain tries to figure out what I have been missing all these months. Dolores is sitting on the tiny sofa next to the fireplace and the moment I lay eyes on her, she rolls her eyes at me, giving me one of her ‘I told you so looks.’

Before I can come up with an answer to that, Fee kisses me again and as soon as she does, my mind can do nothing but think of her lips and how they feel moving with my own.

Fee’s hands make fast work of unzipping my outer coat but when they dig inside and she finds that I am basically like a human Russian Doll, because I have layer upon layer of clothing on, she bursts out laughing even as I am trying to entice her into another round of tongue war.

“Five, I think you need to remove some of this, or you are going to spontaneously combust.”

“Too late, I think I am already on fire, Amore mio.” I boldly lift my hips, while pulling her up against the bulge in my pants that I am not even sure she knows is there because of the sheer amount of thermal insulation between us. Fee actually looks a little nervous as she glances over my shoulder, looking out the window at the storm for a second or two before locking eyes with me again. “Was that okay?” I worriedly ask.

“Yes.”

I don’t think a one-word answer could ever give me more relief, but then again, I just finally declared my love for her and she isn’t running for the hills, and I also just realized she loves me more than as a friend, so I’m pretty much on cloud nine thousand nine hundred and ninety zillion.

"Amore mio, posso portarti al nostro letto?" I question as I glance over at our bed.    (My love, can I take you to our bed?)

“Five, you must be confused. You know I don’t speak your and Dolores’s secret love language.”

True. Fee doesn’t speak Italian, that’s one of the reasons I use it when speaking to Dolores. That way this firey little redhead can’t understand what we are talking about.

I don’t speak French fluently, but Fee does, so for her, I’ll give it a whirl.

“Mon amour, puis-je vous livrer à notre lit?” I nervously bite my lip as I wait for her reply. (My love, may I deliver you to our bed?)

Fee’s beautiful blue eyes wrinkle at the corners. “Oui.”

Not wanting to let her go yet, I summon all my strength as I start to stand but lifting her up with me turns out way easier than I thought because she’s so light, and the moment she realizes what I’m doing, she locks her legs around my waist.

My heart is fucking racing from adrenalin as carry her across the small room and drop her down on the bed.

“Are you sure?”

“Sì, il mio cuore,” she whispers as she looks back up at me with a wicked smirk.   (Yes, my heart.)

That was a big wonderful yes, and to my surprise, it was in perfect Italian, meaning Phoebe has been bull shitting me for months saying she doesn’t understand a word I say to Dolores. As my mind is reeling, thinking of all the little things she’s no doubt been picking up on, her hands fall on the hem of her sweater, pulling it up over her head, before tossing it over one of the bed posts.

I stop breathing and I think my heart stops all together.

There are those perfect breasts I wanted to see so badly when my hands were on them five years ago.

Not thinking, with only my outer coat off and my snow pants unzipped and pulled part way down, I stumble over them in my haste to get closer to her again.

Fee laughs when I crash land on the bed but try to play it off like I meant to do it.

“Oh my God, Five. I love having you around, you are such a sexy klutz.”

Eyes fixed on her, I anxiously yank my pants off and start working on my two extra layers of sweaters. “Baby, I’m here for whatever you need, even if it’s your daily dose of comic relief. Just don’t tell anyone that I let you get away with all your cute teasing shit or I'll be forced to punish you.”

She laughs again. “Har-har, Mr. Scary. There’s no one to tell other than Dolores and she already knows you’re a big closet softy and she thinks your hilarious too.”

Having pulled my head out of my last heavy layer, I hesitate, trying to decide if I should take of my cotton long sleeve.

Fuck it.  Fee has seen the good, the bad and the ugly and she still loves me for some reason. Right now, I am pretty sure my hair is sticking straight up, and she looks like she could care less about how stupid I look.

“Hey,” I sternly admonish, “Dolores doesn’t pick on me. That’s your thing and yours alone, and it's high time you get fucked with.” I hit her back with the most menacing look I can.

Laying splayed out waiting for me in all her bare breasted glory, Fee merely shrugs as if she is not at all intimated and she knows that’s not true about Dolores. The damn thing of it is, my fucked-up brain is instantly wondering what kinds of things Dolores tells her about me when I’m not around, because that was lie. Dolores fucks with me all the time.

Thinking of Dolores again, I spontaneously blink over to her, quickly facing her body that way so she’s a part of this too. She’s been waiting for it, so there’s no way I’m going to deny my lovely loyal lady.

When I blink back, I land on top of Fee with my elbows supporting the weight from my upper half, but my lower half is flush with hers, pressing into the space between her legs with intent. I immediately start kissing her again and she lets me, but she also seems to be unable to stop laughing, so I halt my attack.

“What was that all about?” she breathlessly asks as she looks up at me with her beautiful smile and her rosy cheeks illuminating the rest of her beauty to a starling degree.

Pulling together all the confidence I can, I quirk a brow at her as I move my hand closer to her cheek, letting my fingers tenderly brush against it. “Dolores likes to watch. Didn’t she tell you that?”

“Watch what?” she pushes back sounding so innocent but the look in her eyes is anything but.

“You want to see?”

“Yes,” she taunts as if she thinks she can call my bluff.

Wrong.

My body is so revved-up from pent up horniness, and this siren of a woman lying under me just asked for it, and she knows me in ways no one else ever will, so I figure why not. I have little to no shame left.

With no warning, I drop my face down against her neck, as I drive my cock down between her legs.

“Oh, fuck me, I love your legs!” I groan out with my nose pressed up just under her ear as my hand at her side moves to grip her thigh and I rut into her.

Fee lets out a sound of shock over me saying that and doing this, but when it turns into a whimper and her head fall to the side to give me more access, I increase my efforts both with the rock of my hips and my mouth. To answer back to that, she rips one of my hands off the bed, forcing my hot palm down over her breast. That lets me know for sure that she’s more than okay with me showering her with the kinds of affections Dolores is used to, and that in playing out my perversions, I’m actually doing something right.

Letting myself go, I begin kissing her sweet smelling skin any way that I see fit, soft, hard, nips, and licks, it all feels so good, so I grind myself into her harder, my core muscles flexing and my hips moving as if I am fucking her even though I am not inside her and I have never fucked anything other than my hand, her mouth, and too many inanimate objects to count, including hundreds of cushions and pillows, but also sometimes my Dolores.

Phoebe is so soft and responsive, and I know Dolores is seeing all this and loving it, and that is messing with me, but because I’m clearly a warped little bastard, it’s turning me on even more.

Again, with no warning, I stop dry humping Fee, quickly sitting up off her so I can latch on to the tops of her leggings, but I stop short of pulling them down, looking up at her hopefully.

“I want to make you feel good too, will you please show me how?” I ask.

Fee’s wide eyes move from mine, downwards, stopping on my crotch area where my pants are sticking out in a very notable way. 

She giggles at the sweet tent I'm proudly sporting, then says, “You were already doing a pretty nice job of things, but I can teach you if you want. First, you need to take those sweatpants off before you hurt yourself.” 

I glance down at my hard-on, then back at her with a big smirk on my face. “I am very skilled when it comes to sexual rubbing with my clothes on, but I can see your point. You first though."

I purse my lips as I narrow my eyes at her. She responds by lifting her hips so I can pull her leggings off.

Oh fuck. She's wearing red panties!

She had a similar pair on the night I met her. 

Both her brows lift as her grin spreads the more I stare. “Five, sweetie... Take your pants off right now or I'll make you."

“Oh, really,” I cockily taunt back, but I lose all my bravado when she drops her hand between her legs and slowly starts rubbing her fingers over the lacey fabric that is creating a ‘v’ over her mysterious lady parts.

“Yes, really. Now take them off,” Fee orders.

Eyes trained on her hand, I quickly kick them off, then come back to her, on my knees with my hard shaft in hand, at the ready.

“What do I do?”

Her hand slides up and under her panties, pushing them down as her knees come up so she can get them off. The red lace goes flying over my head and boy do I love those red panties, but holy shit do I love them more on the floor.

“First, what you do is, you touch me, like this.” Fee slips her index finger between her folds, pressing the tip down as she slides it up and down, slowly but firmly.

Wetting my lips with my tongue, I flip my head to the side, anxiously flicking my hair out of my eyes as my hand reflexively works my cock.

“Five, it’s unbelievably hot watching you do that while I touch myself but even as good of a student as I know you are, the best way to learn is hands on, not just to observe.”

I need no other invitation. Coming down over her again, the sensation of flesh on flesh has every nerve ending in my body supercharged. As I carefully mold myself to one of her legs, Fee reaches out, taking my shaking hand, placing it where hers had just been and already I am a changed man.

Fuck...

Chapter Six: Ain't No Place for a Hero to Call Home

Holding the woman that you love while you sleep is akin to transcending into a supernatural place where you are lighter than air and all your worries just float away. Waking up next to your lover is even better.

I know that me saying that is a lot like that whimsical crap dad warned me with the day I took off and ended up in here, but just like that crazy sliding along ice then descending blindly as an acorn bullshit that I should have listened to, this is also so fucking true.

I am certain that the magical reactions of a woman’s body to different forms of touch will never cease to amaze me. In my opinion, females are much more complex than men, both mentally and sexually, but despite that, I am absolutely going to ace the art of getting my girl off. I probably never will figure out her beautiful mind, but this, finding ways to make her all mine, over and over again, I will master this glorious deed.

“Am I doing it right, Professor Honey Bunny?”

I purposefully hum my silly words against the nap of Fee’s neck, nuzzling my nose up into her hairline as I breathe in her flowery scent and rub my slicked cock up and down between her ass cheeks.

First lesson when it comes to real women, and it’s one that I managed to figure out without Fee outright telling me, is that they love it when you whisper or speak softly anywhere near their ear.

The second lesson is that they also love it when you are boldly willing to let go of shame and fall all over them with your adoring and sometimes perverted affections. Nothing proves your love than letting your defenses down and not being scared that they see who you really are, which for me is a total perv and a major dork.

When Phoebe doesn’t answer my question with anything other than a muted sighing sound, I find that’s not good enough for my continued educational purposes, so I up my game, sliding my fingers faster between her legs.

“How about this?” I try again.

Fee reacts to that change of pace quick enough, her bottom pushing back against me, pressing my erection even tighter between us as her head falls back against my shoulder while she moans so perfectly wantonly.

Getting a much better reaction, I can’t resist my excitement or sinking my teeth into the soft curve of her neck, applying just enough pressure to make her mouth fall open as she releases a quick and very feminine sounding rush of air with the hint of the letter ‘F’ in it.

Whether she meant that as my name or fuck, doesn’t matter, both are good with me.

My mouth goes back to applying much gentler kisses. Eventually, I move my licks and kisses to her ear again where I then drag my tongue along the shell of it before I let my breath cascade down, tickling the moist trail I just left on her skin.

Her body shivers and wriggles against me.

“I’ll take that as a, yes?” I smart back, not at all trying to hide how proud I am.

Lesson three when it comes to real women is knowing that you have the power to make them writhe is a huge turn on. Thanks to Fee’s guidance, I am now capable of driving her crazy, but as my clever girl already knew, that’s a win for both parties.

My lady love lets out the prettiest little laugh when I nip her again. “Yes, Five,” she giggles. “What you are doing feels so unbelievably good. Congratulations, you can consider yourself graduated with honors when it comes to finger fucking and ass humping.”

I know Fee’s teasing me for being so arrogant and because I am literally fucking her butt cheeks, but she does so lightly, while also tenderly running her hand over the top of mine as it fervently works her.

Wanting to mess with her more, I force myself to speak as seriously as possible as I add, “That’s good you are enjoying my latest break of dawn boner on your ass attack, but I’m trying for doctoral level mastery in all subjects ‘getting off.’ So ready yourself, little firecracker, because I am going to be doing major research and it’s starting with documenting all the ways I can hump you and make you cum at the same time.”

Fee’s body starts jiggling again as she starts laughing at me in her delightfully breathless way. I knew she’d get a kick out of more of my jackass commentary, and that’s the point of it. Adding to her already losing it over my usual absurdity, I start passionately rutting my dick up on her like a mindless wild animal.

“See,” I exclaim, “You better hang on, honey. It’s going to get very bumpy.”

“You mean, humpy,” she corrects, still laughing at me.

I love making Fee laugh, she is the joy in my life I never had before.

Since our Christmas weekend together a month and half ago, Fee has taught me plenty about what makes women feel good, and I have been one hell of an eager student for her. I can blame my fervor for all things sex related on my younger age all I want, but Fee is well aware that it’s not just that.

The escapism of her body and the sheer bliss of shutting out all else while in the act of searching for my release is entirely addicting for me. During my first years alone here, it’s the only thing I had that took me away from my suffering. It became a near daily reward system for surviving this hell. Now I still cling to it, but not so much for the same reasons.

Fee is my everything.

She makes me so unbelievably happy every day in the simplest of ways that have nothing to do with sex. That said, feeling my cock slip and slide on Phoebe is otherworldly. So much better than dry humping pillows and harder objects that chaff and dry out much faster when my pre-cum and spit fail me. I tend to prolong my sexual exploits for as long as I possibly can and playing with Fee and her seemingly infinite ability to stay wet for me is fucking great.

I dig my fingers into her slender waist, searching for more leverage as my hips frantically pump my cock against her. Through the sweaty fringe of my hair, I can see Dolores in her chair next to us. Her cheeks are flushed so beautifully from lasciviously watching me take Fee like this. As thrilled as she looks by my valiant efforts to entertain her, I can’t help but notice that she also looks slightly pissed.

Five Hargreeves-Brainless insensitive jerk.

I am sorry. I meant no offense, sweetheart. I like the fact that you are hard and that we have our own special way of doing this. Your smooth, wonderfully cool breasts are still high up there on my list of favorite places to fuck. I’ll prove it to you later if our little red head is down to watch, but right now, I’m a-

“Oh, fuck!” I moan, my forehead pressing against Fee’s neck.

I am about to come already, and thinking about going full freak mode with Dolores while Fee watches, and maybe if I am lucky even joins the fun by playing with herself, isn’t helping reign it in.

Easing back a little, I force myself to push down the growing tension in my belly and the tightening waves of pleasure threatening to burst from my loins. Then I shove my whole hand down lower, pressing Fee’s pubic mound against my palm to keep applying proper fiction while my index finger begins dipping inside her tight entrance.

“Ahh -hha, ya-ye..ssss,” Fee whines so endearingly.

I risk glancing at Dolores again and she offers me one of her warm smiles.

‘That’s it, Five. Just focus on Fee a little longer. I’m not mad that you enjoy this. Don’t worry about me. You know I only want what’s best for you and this is.’

As always, Dolores' encouragement over Fee and I is never ending, and I love her so much for it. I love them both so much, and I know I’m nuts for entertaining all this madness still, but I can’t help it. I still hear Dolores even though now I am not alone anymore. Amazingly, Fee is just as understanding as her, because she lets me get away with this crazy shit too.

Listening to Dolores, I let go of Fee’s hip to further disengage myself. Instead, I latch onto one of her warm breasts, probably too roughly, but she doesn’t complain, so I don’t stop aggressively groping her.

“Baby, I want to fuck these sweet tits of yours so bad. I am going to make a mess of you when I paint your beautiful chest with my sticky seed.”

Fee’s laughter bursts out of her. “Five, you are so freaking cute. I love it when you try to talk dirty.”

“Cute?” I grunt in shock. “I am not cute, and I am not trying, honey. I am dirty.”

Finding a jerking rhythm, of hard, then soft, hard than soft, I show my girls just how I like it, and that I am not ‘cute.’ Knowing that Fee is plenty ready for it, I finally let two fingers plunge all the way inside her, angling them up the way she taught me so I am hitting her right where she can’t help but cry out.

“Yes, Five! Y-e-e-e-s-s-s-”

One of many other lessons about sex I’ve learned is that the build to the finish is over ninety percent the fun of it, so taking it slow at first and upping the level of intensity as you go is key to being a good lover.

Thank you, Fee.

My smile fortifies my words, as I keep up my pace inside her and up my filth factor. “I know just how wet it gets you two lovely ladies when I talk about blowing my load on you, and I love how open-minded you both are of my objectionable behaviors, but it looks like you’re going to have to wait for that titty fucking another time. I am very close, and Dolores is right, you need to come first. Is this going to be enough to get you there or do you want me to fuck you with my mouth too?”

“Fiv-ive-yo-you are fucking mee-ee just fine as you are, don’t you thhhh-ink?” Fee stammers as I slam against her.

“I could do better, honey. I know I can.”

I’d stop humping Fee and dive pussy deep like I said, but I honestly want to be next her, wrapped around her, because this feels like I am actually fucking her, or as close as I can get to it.

Fuck, do I want to stick my dick inside her and make her come with it. With me. I think about it all the time.

It’s not so much that this isn't enough, because it is. It’s just that we can’t do that. We can do everything but that.

Fee had plenty of medical supplies, personal care items, and medicine and other valuable things with her when she arrived here, but no birth control methods of any kind. She didn’t need it.

Since our being together like this, neither of us have found anything in our scavenging that looks like it’s still any good or worth the risk of trying it. Thanks to the nature of condoms being extremely thin latex, they unfortunately did not survive the intense heat of the near atomic blasts. And the birth control pills and other options that we’ve found are always melted in their packaging or destroyed from exposure and moisture.

Like so many things, birth control in the apocalypse is a problem.

Talk of having a child together is something we have only done in terms of getting back to the real world first. Once the world isn’t going to end and we are safe from the dangers of our current situation, then I want nothing more than to someday have a family with Phoebe if we can. Here, the risks are something I refuse to entertain. I can’t lose Fee. Just the thought of something bad happening to her because of complications from a pregnancy makes me sick.

This, what we have, is more than I ever dreamed possible.

“Fee, I love you so much. Come on, fuuu-ccckkk,” I anxiously groan, because I’m almost there again.

I feel her squirming as she searches for anything to ground her. Her small feet eventually end up locked around my own, helping to anchor us both. My fingers keep getting the tell tail sign that her climax is coming because her body keeps tensing around them as her breaths hitch for longer and longer periods.

Letting go again, I pull back enough to take my reddened cock in hand, directing it between her legs to re-wet it. The sensation makes my head feel dizzy.

“Oh fuck, yes, Five ! That’s it, leave it there. Baby, fuck me,” she moans.

Yup, I love the sound of that, but I don’t understand what she wants. I can’t fuck her like this. Not really.

Still positioned with my hips pressed up behind her and my length in my hand that’s wedged up against her delicious wet cunt, Fee begins to tighten her thighs around me.

I pull in a very unsteady breath as I loudly and frantically pant her name. “Fee?!”

My voice sounds so young, so unsure with its higher-than-normal pitch, but it's only because I am totally freaking out.

“Five, it’s ok. Do it like this. We will be super careful.” With my chin resting on her shoulder, I watch as Fee reaches out and grabs her shirt off the table next to her side of the bed. She tightens on me even more, her slender thighs working hard to encase me between them where my cock is now lying as motionless as my hand.

“I don’t-"

I don’t know what to say…

Fee reaches down, dragging my hand away from her heat.

“Fee?” I question again as my tacky fingers fall against her hip.

“It’s okay. This will feel just as good to me as your fingers. Just do it. Pretend you are fucking me, please, do it. I want to feel you like this so bad.”

I want it too.

Fuck.

As if her words are a knife to my throat, I instantly react, pulling back just enough to not slip all the way out of this confined love trap she made in the cavass between her legs, shoving back into her warmth.

And yeah. The feel of her desire wetting me as I slide, her swollen folds encasing me while her thighs tremble from her effort to keep them tightly clenched, it’s…

“Fuck,” I grunt as I thrust faster, making her have to cling to my hands on her hips where I now have them both locked, keeping us latched together.

That’s it.

This is too fucking great.

I can’t think of an objection no matter how hard I try.

It’s not like Fee hasn’t let me run my cock over her sex before, but I have only done it very cautiously from the front for fear of getting even the tiniest amount of my semen inside her.

This… It’s so close, so dangerous, but it’s so damn incredible. I could just slip inside her. I know I could. I can see it in my mind. I know the head of my cock is pushing out between her legs, covered in her love for me, and soon I won’t be able to contain my explosive desire for her as it streams out on the bedding. I’m going to pretend it is filling Fee, and I am very good at pretending.

Thinking about doing that, my body flames with fresh sparks of ecstasy, and I let loose, fucking her as fast as I can.

The increased friction is enough for Fee to dig her short fingernails across the tops of my hands, causing them to sting. Thankfully, even though I’m on another planet doing this, I feel it when her body begins to shudder in that familiar way that makes me so fucking proud every time it happens.

“Ohhh-fff, this feels so fucking-” I growl out as deeply as I can just below her ear as she gives herself over to her orgasm. “Fee, this feels so fucking-” I can’t even finish. I bite down viciously on my lower lip as I rail her, my pelvis absolutely thwacking against her round rosy ass, making the most wonderful kind of sound from our hot and sweaty skin-to-skin contact. “Ffff-"

My back arches and my eyes slam shut as my hips shunt in a very non rhythmic pattern. I am only partly aware of the sensation of Fee releasing my cock from her clamped together legs so she can jerk me through the last currents of utterly mind-blowing fuck tingles that are violently ripping through me.

Once I have some of my brain back at my disposal, I very groggily open my eyes. “That was…fuck .”

Fee laughs as she wipes me clean with her shirt. “Yes. Yes, it was. Another job well done, mon amour. You are the best student ever, but I am not at all surprised by that.”     (My love-in French)

“Ti amo così tanto, prometto che non mi lascerai mai...” I whisper back, shutting my eyes again as I nuzzle my face against her neck. Soon I am falling into one of my many early morning naps while spooning the woman I love. We never even left our bed to start the day, but I'm right where I want to be.   (I love you so much, promise you will never leave me-in Italian),

~~~~~~~~~~

On the couch behind me, I hear the slow rhythmic strum of another cord. I love it when Fee plays like this. Between the soothing sounds of the guitar and the sound of the early spring rain softly pattering our metal roof, I feel so unbelievably relaxed and content.

I know I am not supposed to be happy living life in the apocalypse, but with Fee, I am. I am more settled and happier than I have ever been. I can easily pretend that we are in our own little world by choice, not because we are the only ones left, and I often find that I do and can’t help it. I am just that happy. I am in love with the perfect girl, and she is in love with me too.

I smile as I peek behind me. Phoebe senses me looking and looks up. She smiles back at me as she strums and plucks the strings, effortlessly making a song that is as beautiful as she is.

“My red-headed one, I want to be your everything…” I begin to sing as I fish around in the soapy water looking for another fork that I know is in there. “Fill your plate with me, lick and lap all you want, baby. I am all yours… I want to be consumed by your love…”

My impromptu attempt at serenading my lady love, and calling her by the literal and very fitting definition of her last name, is met with the breathy sound of Fee trying not to laugh at my very stupid lyrics.

I drop my cleaned dish in the drying rack and pick up another, using my cloth to scrub off the remnants of the shockingly satisfying wild mushrooms and rice that we made for dinner. There’s still no major growth outside of any kind, but that’s not stopping my crafty girl from finding all kinds of interesting and safe to eat fungus, or from attempting to start some seeds in the uncontaminated soil inside our green house. Maybe, if we are very lucky, by the time the longer warmer days fully set in, we will have fresh vegetables every now and then.

We love to fight over which will be better, the tomatoes or the cucumbers. Like the immature fool I am, I tell Fee she only thinks the cucumbers are going to better because they remind her of my amazing dick. She tells me I am amazing, but not just because my male parts are very nice. Fee always finds ways to tease me and feed my relentless ego. Finding that delicate balance to keep me in check is just one of her many talents.

Talking stupid and naughty always gets my lady smiling, so I am always going to do it. There is no shortage of love between us or laughs. Food on the other hand is, and always will be an issue for us. Even with the stores of dry things like rice and beans, and vacuum sealed seeds for potential future plantings that were left here, we still worry.

Thinking of food…

I loudly clear my throat, letting Fee know she’s in for another good line. “I want to be your breakfast in bed. I’ll be your food. I’ll run your bubble bath, make you laugh…  Tu me fais voir la vie en rose,” I croon, adding that last bit as French as I can, but even if it's wrong, I make sure to use my best sexy voice I can produce.  ('You make me see life in pink'-meaning, with you, I see life as perfect or through rose colored glasses- a similar line from the song Vie en Rosa.)

“Oh my God!” she sputters. “That’s it, Hargreeves. You are killing me over here. I’m not so sure about this ‘you being my food’ thing that you’re going on about, but in case you weren't already aware of it, you are one hell of a very sexy muse. Come here and let me teach you something new, you big goof.”

More than ready to please my girl, I excitedly pull the plug on the wash basin and aimlessly chuck my rag before bounding over to her. Crashing in next to her on our tiny loveseat, I look over at her with a big stupid smile as I try to suggestively wiggle one eyebrow at her. It’s a total sexy fail, and I know it, but that’s the point. Fee thinks I am irresistibly sexy when I am silly and that's because I am not normally a silly person.

It's all for her.

Another lesson with women, they like it if you are smart, but they don’t need to be reminded of it, especially if it’s in the arrogant, ass-hole-ish way I used to lay on thick for pretty much everyone.

“Teach away, baby. Like I said, I am all yours,” I push when she merely eyes me with that pretty smirk of hers.

When Fee doesn’t put the guitar away, that should have been the first sign she wasn’t planning on teaching me something new in the form of pleasuring her. But it wasn’t because I am a total boner.

Taking my hand in hers, she shifts my arms so that the black body of the instrument is in my lap, not hers. Placing my left hand on the neck, she positions my fingers around it so the pads of each are pressing down on different strings.

“There,” she says, “You are going to learn to play.”

“I am?”

“Yes.” It takes her a second to stop laughing at how baffled I am. “If you can sing, which you can, albeit somewhat more humorously than sincerely, then you can play and sing. They always complement each other nicely and it's fun. You just need to learn a few basic cords and then you can really get my panties wet with your mad skills.”

“I think I am good with having you as my own personal music box, sweet peaches.” I try to hand the guitar back but she pushes it away, shaking her head.

“Nope, you need a healthy hobby other than running all your big fancy numbers, and trying to find all the ways you can fuck me without fucking me.”

“Those are healthy hobbies.," I said defensively. "You said having a big libido was a good thing for a guy my age.”

Fee ignores that valid point as she stuffs a pillow down behind my back, then she pushes herself up so she can snake her body in behind mine. With her chin resting on my shoulder, she wraps her left hand around mine so she can maneuver my fingers how she wants them.

“There, keep that amount of pressure on those positions and bring your right hand down over the strings like this, Mr. Peaches.”

Her other hand lovingly brushes against my side before it finds my free hand, placing it how she means, with my palm flush against the body of the guitar. “Use the side of your thumb for now, and if you find that you like a pick better later, go for it. Anything goes, it’s all personal preference.”

Moving my hand for me, my thumb lightly jumps over the strings, one by one. I am shocked that a sound rings out that is not awful.

Fee kisses my neck from behind which increases my smile. “You know, I only call you peaches because they are my favorite canned food, and they are orange and sweet and they remind me of you. And I really like what you’re doing back there, ginger,” I say, leaning my head back so she is forced to press her lips on me again.

“I know you do,” she purrs, “but I am not orange. That ‘G’ major wasn’t bad, but your nicknames are. With your long, very clever fingers, you’ll be plucking those strings like a real wild West Virginia mountain man in no time.”

“I’d rather pluck your strings,’ I hum right back.

I can feel Fee’s mouth spread as her warm breath dances over my skin, sending wonderful shivers up my spine.

Maybe thinking I am cold, maybe not, within seconds of her focusing her energy on it, the hearth is filled with flames, working their way through the brush and other smaller pieces of kindling I put in there earlier. She didn’t even have to touch it to ignite it, and that is not the only thing she’s setting on fire.

Having her pressed in behind me like this… Yeah. It’s giving me ideas, but then again, so is her hand gently rubbing my thigh.

“Pay attention,” Fee scolds as she fights with my left hand to get it over the strings again.

Once they are placed differently, she guides my right hand again, only this time down, up, down, down, and up, in a different pattern, skipping the lowest sounding string every time. Again, it doesn’t sound bad. It sounds like music.

“That’s a ‘C’ chord. Not the easiest stretch for some but it’s looking easy enough for a very handsome drink of water like yourself. These fingers of yours, Hargeeves-damn. They are so long and useful,” she teases.

“I am slim and long limbed, but I am not attractive or tall, so saying that colloquial expression doesn’t really apply to me,” I correct.

"Wrong. You are very attractive and compared to me, you are tall,” she laughs.

“Only part true," I laugh back.

I am at least two inches taller than my little woman and I love it. I reverse the positions of our right hands. Gently stroking her hand, the strings under her fingers ring out again, but this time, I am pretty sure not in the way they should.

“Speaking of size, and my long, brilliant fingers, things are getting substantially lengthier in my pants the more you press that hot body of yours on me like that. I think we should do music lessons later. Right now, I think you should keep kissing my neck like that, while I teach you how to give me a reach around whack off.”

“Oh, you think so, do you?”

“Uh-huh,” I softly murmur, placing her hand on my leg again, moving it towards my sizable problem just so she’s fully aware that I’m not completely joking. Once her hand is on me, she gets it, and I know she's going to give in to my audacious request.

I can’t help but let my head flop back and my mouth drop open. My lids automatically close as I relish the feel of her touching me even if it’s just over my pants. “Maybe when you're done taking care of me, I can get on my knees, sit you back, and return the favor?” My words come out so incredibly strained already.

“I would love for you to do that, but first you are going to learn two more chords. Then you will be able to play something satisfying right away.”

"This is already pretty damn satisfying," I argue.

To that remark I get nothing, but her hand does keep moving up and down as I shift myself so she can get at my restrained shaft a little better. Being a musician who can do two very different things with her hands at the same time, she fiddles my clenched fingers on the neck of the guitar in a new way even while stroking me. “Try that one,” she commands, with her mouth tickling the back of my ear.

Right hand shaking, I bring it down over the strings again, making a pleasant sound that is a little deeper sounding.

“Good. That’s an A major.” Fee slides her right hand up my torso, bringing it back down inside the waistband of my pants.

“Fuck Fee. This feels so good,” I breathe when I feel the flesh of her warm hand directly on me.

“I know, baby, and you are doing so good. Just one more, I promise,” she says as she holds the head of my cock in her hand, her thumb rubbing back and forth on the underside, causing me to helplessly whimper. I hardly notice my left hand being repositioned as she spreads my pearly seed round and round my swollen tip. “Again, but try to only hit the four bottom strings,” she says, letting her words vibrate along my upper spine. I strum the strings with an even more unsteady hand. “That’s a D chord. We will save the B and several other nice ones for our next lesson. I am proud of you, Five.”

My hips shunt as Fee brings her hand down over my length again. “You are?” I ask in a fresh moan as she runs her hand further south, tenderly fondling my balls.

“I always am,” Phoebe claims, then kisses the back of my neck so torturously slow, in pace with how she’s handling my cock.

My jaw clenches and I force myself to relax. “Honey. You are driving me crazy.”

“I know. Payback's a bitch, isn’t it?”

Dropping my right hand, I push it inside my already stretched sweatpants, clamping my fingers around hers, forcing her to grip me tighter.

“Harder,” I demand as I show her what I mean, working her hand over me at a much more brutal pace. “This isn’t going to take long,” I warn. Like I usually do, my hips start fucking back up into her hand, increasing the feel that I am actually fucking her. “I love you so much, Fee. You are so good to me. Thank you,” I breathe, releasing her so she can get to it on her own. I reach next to me, grasping her right leg, my knuckles going white as my fingers dig into her calf.

“Rrrhhhaa, Ffffffff,” I groan through clenched teeth as my cock slides up and down in her hand at the pace that makes my brain completely turn off.

Fee’s lips caress my skin, moving along the back side of my shoulder over the fabric of my cotton shirt and back up again. “Five, you are one very horny young man, and I wouldn’t want you any other way because you are young, and you have every right to be horny. I love you too,” she says, letting her words softly vibrate my spine again. “Now, be a good boy and set that beautiful present you gave me down before you accidentally drop it. I am about to get really good for you, baby.”   

Holy fuck. I have no idea what chords I just learned, but I know that I will never forget my first guitar lesson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bent over with my elbows on my knees, I rock back and forth, my heart racing as my fingers yank at my shaggy hair.

"Mother fucker of all fuckers!"

“Five, take a break,” Fee declares over my tenth outburst in the last half hour.

Opening my tightly clamped eyes, I wearily drag them across the yard in her direction. She is lying under the jeep, trying to see if there’s anything she can do about the cracked coil on the left rear tire. She thinks it happened the night she saved me, but since then we haven’t found a part to fix it. That’s not really the biggest problem though, because the thing won’t start anyway. Sitting all winter didn’t help, but Fee is almost certain that's because of a faulty starter, and we have nothing to fix that either.

With my lack of mechanical know-how, I can do little to help her diagnose all our many vehicle problems. Instead of getting greasy with her, most of the last two days of it finally not blowing like mad while the angry sky also dumped torrents of rain on us, I have been sitting outside with her, plunked down in my rusty old chair, swearing up a whole different kind of shit storm.

I can’t come up with anything that even remotely solves the issue of overcoming the indirect curvature of time and the rapid acceleration of energy needed to traverse it. Going forward when it comes to time travel was child’s play compared to going back. It’s all new, never done before math and concepts, and even with all that I know about it and having actually jumped years forward at a time, I am stumped.

“I can’t fucking figure this out,” I yell as I throw my latest scribble filled notebook down on the grass.

Hearing me really flipping out, Fee pushes herself out from under the vehicle and comes my way, stopping with her oily hands on her hips as she squints at me.

After a moment of silence, she reaches for her hat that’s hanging on the arm of my chair, plunking it down on her head so the sun isn't in her eyes. “You know, I can’t figure this shit out either, but you don’t hear me swearing every two minutes. Getting mad is never helpful. Why don’t you take a break?”

I don’t answer. My eyes dart away from her judgmental looking gaze.

She sighs loudly while bonking my foot with one of her sandals, and that makes me feel like I have to look back. When our eyes meet again, Fee gives me one of her sympathetic looks. “You will figure it out, Five.”

“Yeah, you don’t know that!” I bark back.

Clearly not liking that, she throws her hands up, shaking her head at me. “Maybe you just need something else to go on. We could go back to the city. You said the library there wasn’t a total loss. I am sure we can find texts in the ruins that will have some ideas you can use to expand your theories. I know you’ve been stuck on this for months. I am sorry. I know it’s driving you crazy but please don’t take it out on me.”

“We’ve talked about this, Fee. We can’t go. It’s so dangerous back there. And now, with the river flooding out all the roads around here, and the jeep not working, we can’t make it anywhere unless it’s on foot.”

“We can’t right now, but we can make the trip at some point. I know we can make it together just fine. You are acting like walking is a problem, but if I recall, that’s how you were getting around for five years before I found you.” She grins. “Has staying here in our luxurious mountain abode made you scared of getting your hands dirty or opposed to a few blisters on your cute feet? I thought we were saving the role of pampered princess for Dolores. Shall I start finding pretty little charms to decorate you with too? You know, you would look nice in sequins,” she says with a small laugh at the end.

“Real Nice,” I snap. “Why do you always have to act like you have all the answers? When it comes to this, you clearly don't know what the hell you are talking about. I have been in New York, you haven't! You think that your opinion is the only one that matters. It's like you enjoy making me feel like a little kid!

Fee instantly looks taken aback by my outburst, but she quickly schools her features to hide it. “Five… I was just joking. You know, trying to make you laugh and realize this isn't a big deal. I obviously know you aren't scared of hard work or walking. I never mean to make you feel like a child." She pushes her lips out, looking confused. "I am sorry, I didn't know you felt that I did." She pauses again, looking somewhere over my head with a blankness in her eyes before they come back to mine again. "Five, I don't understand. I am just trying to help.”

“Well, it's not funny and you can’t help with this. So just back off and do your thing and I will do mine!”

Her hands slap against her thighs as she pulls a frown at me. “No , I can’t. You are right. I am sorry that math and time travel really aren’t my thing, but I do my best with what I can help with, even if sometimes that’s putting up with your big boy tantrums.”

I cock my head, glaring at her as my shoulders rise with a tick like twitch that makes my growing anger and inability to control it blatantly obvious, which only pisses me off even more because I'm just proving her right; I am being a baby about this.

Leaving here is a very bad idea and every time Fee mentions it or questions how far I am getting with my calculations, my defenses trigger on a level that I am having a harder and harder hiding.

I feel like she’s trying to set me off on purpose, so I yell, “Fee. Just stop patronizing me, okay!”

“I am not doing that! I am just trying to make you realize that getting mad isn't going to help you.” She swallows several times trying to calm herself back down. Her eyes fall on the ground at my feet as she tosses her wrench back over by her other tools. “You know…” She pauses and my narrowed eyes come back to take on her fresh, icy blue glare. “I probably shouldn't say this, but sometimes I wonder if you are confusing the importance of what we have here with the reality that nothing is more important than getting back. There’s no reason we can’t go back to the city. You lived there on your own for five years and you survived. It clearly wasn’t as bad as the burning hot death hole you accidentally strolled into. You’ve got me with you now either way. Like I said, we will both be fine. If there's a chance that going will help you find the answers you need, then it's worth it. You know that we can't stay here forever.”

My eyes go wide as I jump out of my chair and get in her face. “I fucking know that, and I know you saved me! I know you are taking care of me, Fee! Do you always have to remind me of that!”

“That's not fair and you know it, and that’s not what I was saying. Why are you being so defensive? I am just pointing out that it’s okay to go and we should if it will help you figure out your math.”

“Phoebe, I know just how important getting back to save the entire fucking world is. Forgive me if I want to keep you safe and not have to bury another person that I love all because of massive amounts of stupid equations that I can’t figure out because I am stupid.”

“You are not stupid, and I am fine, Five. In case you forgot, I got along just fine without you, so with you I’m hardly in any more danger of death than I was before, and I came to this lovely area all the way from Utah so, yeah… Being mad at me for pointing that out, or not, going to New York from here is nothing. Like I said, we will be fine.”

“You just can’t stop, can you?" I furiously spit back. "I am well aware of how good you are at everything and how I nearly died next to a gigantic crater made by the fucking moon because I am an idiot!”

“Urgg! Five why are you being such a shit? I am not saying that!”

“It's because I am an asshole, remember?”

Fee’s expression softens into something that looks almost pained as her lips slowly part and her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Five, you are being an asshole right now, but I know it’s just because you are frustrated, and you are scared. I wouldn’t do something that could mean that I'd lose you either. Us leaving here together won’t risk that. We just need to watch the water levels and wait a little longer and we will be fine. I know we can find a route into the city and avoid the flooding. It may take a week or whatever for the latest storm damage to run its course but…”

She reaches out to take my hand, but like the baby I am being, a flash of electrical blue static surrounds me as I blink myself a few yards away where I reappear and instantly begin to pace with my head down rather than acknowledge what I just did or what she just said.

I hear her aggravated little huff, but I refuse to turn back and look at her.

“Fine. Whatever. You obviously need some space. I am going for a walk,” she mumbles as she marches away.

Hours later, Fee is not back.

I know that I was being awful, and I know I hurt her. I feel horrible about that and not being smart enough to solve the math needed to make this work. She is right as always. I am scared and I irrationally took my anger out on her. I am just mad that I can’t do this. It’s like when I was young and never good enough no matter how hard I tried.

Fee wasn't wrong that taking a break, or even going to the city to look for texts with ideas I can use, would be a smart plan of action, but no, I wouldn't listen. I yelled at her and blamed her for my own shortcomings rather than owning up to the real reason I am upset and digging my feet in.

I am putting being here with her, where I know we are safe, ahead of everyone else, and it’s selfish. As much as Fee loves me, I know being here alone like we are is not what she wants when she knows there’s a chance we can do something to prevent this. It’s not really what I want either, but I have never had this kind of thing with someone, and I am terrified of losing it.

That all lies on me, and I am being a total fuck head about it, and to her.

No wonder she didn’t come back yet.

I was such an epic asshole again and I hardly have me being an emotionally stunted teenager brought up in a house of equally confused kids as an excuse.

Walking down the gravel road to go after her, I have to constantly jump and dart around deep washouts. The rains that came in the last two weeks have been so bad that we are lucky there is any road left. Even so, taking the jeep anywhere or the bike isn’t looking promising even if we can get the damn things started.

When I get close to reaching where the small mountain stream runs alongside the road, I can already hear it, meaning it’s not a small creek anymore. When I get even further down the road, I am surprised to see it is still raging even though it hasn’t rained in over forty-eight hours.

When I get to the end of the line, which shouldn’t be, because it’s actually still about another mile and half before the road levels out and splits to the north and south along the range, I find there’s no road left as far as my eyes can see. The river swept it away.

Days ago, when Fee and I walked down here together, the road was just a little flooded on one side where the banks had spilled over.

Huge trees and branches sweep past me in the viciously churning water, moving so fast that when they slam up against other broken debris and rocks hidden under the muddy water, they make powerful cracking and tearing sounds.

There’s no way Fee went past here but I didn’t pass her so that must mean that she came back another way and I missed her somehow when I went in the house. Since it’s definitely not as sunny or warm over here, I figure that maybe she's wandering around on the other side of the bluff like she likes to do in the afternoon.

Looking up, I see the sun’s rays illuminating just the tops of the remaining trees that still stand tall, like smooth gray, wind torn monuments to what once was part of a vast wooded range formed over 480 million years old. A chill runs up my arms from the breeze blowing through the pass.

Spinning around, looking at the river again, something brightly colored catches my eye.

I walk over and bend down.

It’s a tiny bouquet of early spring purple wildflowers mixed with a few budded shoots from some kind of tree.

Fee loves finding things like this and bringing them back so she can show me and then proudly display them in the colorful glass vase I found for her that sits on our mantel.

“Fee!”

My shout is swallowed by the much louder sound of the water.

My heart sinks when I think about how she wouldn’t have dropped those by accident or just left them like this.

She has to still be near here.

Full-on panicking, I sprint around, searching the area, calling for her, over and over.

She doesn’t answer.

Nothing looks the same as it did a few days ago and I have no idea which way she would have gone. There isn’t really anywhere obvious to go. One side of the road is butted up to a relatively steep rocky cliff and the other is flooded.

Working my way back up along the winding water’s edge I see something.

Back where I just was, where the road had been, I can see that the soil there is darker colored and freshly disturbed compared to the rest of the embankment around it. It’s like it very recently washed out, eroded by the rushing water, causing it to abruptly collapse and disappear like the rest of the road in front of it already has.

Holding my breath, I come as close to the edge as I can without potentially making my weight cause it to collapse again.

“No, no, no! Fee!” I scream when I see Phoebe’s baseball cap down below, stuck a little way out on a half-submerged branch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I searched everywhere for Fee. Up and down the river, over and over. Through the woods, miles and miles around our cabin and I found nothing.

Not another trace of her.

Every day I refused to give up hope that she was out there, somewhere. Maybe she was mad at me still and just not ready to come back yet.

All I wanted was for her to come home.

It wasn’t until almost two weeks later, when the river had become nothing more than a lazy stream again that I found her.

She wasn't far from where she disappeared.

A clump of her long red hair was wrapped around a branch laying on the ground, and at first, I just thought she must have got it stuck on there and she had to have cut it off or something. When I tried to pick up the snarl covered wood, I realized it was stuck down because it was attached to something buried under it. Then, as sickness filled my gut, just a few feet away, partly hidden in a tangle of grass, I saw a familiar rainbowy strappy sandal with a foot in it. It was partly encased in the gray clay. Those two parts of her were the only things of color on the dead landscape.

Seeing that... Finally knowing... My heart broke and so did I.

I couldn't see the rest of her body, but from what I could tell, she was there, only twisted in a sick and unnatural way based on where her head was compared to her feet. My beautiful girl was stuck into the dried mud so hard that it took me hours with my bare hands to get her out, but there was no way I could pull myself away from her to go back for a shovel. Even if I did go get something better to break the ground, I would have been too terrified to use it. She was so hurt already; I couldn't risk hurting her even more.

I wanted to die right there with her.

It felt like I did.

It didn’t matter that she was decomposing, or that her body was brutally ruined by the wrath of the river, once I had her free, I held her to me, begging her to forgive me.

As crazed as I was, my fractured mind wouldn’t give me the solace of letting her answer my pleas. Her voice is one I could not conjure but that didn't stop me from trying.

I tried to blink with her to get her back but the first time I landed with her, just up the dried embankment, her body tore apart, and I knew I couldn't go further with her that way.

Like a mindless zombie, covered in dirt and the pungent smell of human decay, I eventually made it back to the cabin. I don't remember that walk or the walk back to her. Near dark, I pulled my wagon up the mountain pass, loaded with Fee's small, battered body in a blanket on top of it. As I wheeled her along, all my mind could do was think about getting her somewhere safe.

Once I finally had her to our home, I couldn’t bury her.

I couldn’t think.

My mind at that point was more gone than it had ever been. I was mad with rage one minute then sobbing endlessly the next.

Days later, with no other choice but to give her dignity, I finally buried Phoebe under an old, dead black ash tree that she had always said would have been so beautiful if it were alive still.

Unable to leave her, I stayed at our cabin for two more months. I hardly ate. I hardly slept more than a few hours at a time, but when I did, it was clinging to her pillow, pretending that the faint traces of her scent meant that she was still with me.

When I left, it was only because I had finally pulled myself together enough to face the horrible world again and because it was the only way I could save her.

That thought alone is what held me together.

Like the day I lost her, I was stuck. Stuck inside myself, stuck with my calculations, and stuck blaming myself for something that I knew deep down Phoebe would tell me was wrong for me to be doing.

She would have said it was an accident. Fee never wanted me to suffer. She always said that none of this was my fault.

But it was.

I know that she went for that walk because of how unfair I was being to her.

She was upset by my behavior, and she had reason to be.

I know the only reason Fee went down to the river’s edge that day was because she was checking to see how bad it was. She wanted to help me and leaving to go back to the city seemed like the best option in her mind.

But, even getting to the city and my library, I remained stuck, unable to perfect the math that I needed to get back. I was trapped there another thirty-eight years, alone except for Dolores. After that, Dolores did all she could do to comfort me, just like she always did. We eventually picked up our old routine, but the reality was, neither of us could ever move on from losing Fee.

Even in my time with The Commission after The Handler came to pluck me out of my hell, I suffered for my sins, just in new ways.

I don’t think I could ever hate myself so much as I did that day I found Phoebe’s body, but as it turns out, almost a lifetime later, I did thanks to my years of killing innocent people all in the name of maintaining the generally accepted timeline for a corrupt space time continuum organization ran by a bunch of creepy manipulative self-serving fucks.

As long as it has been, no matter how many years pass, and how unredeemable I become, I still love my Fee.

For her and for everyone else, I will figure out this mess I've made.

I promised her I would, and I won't stop until I do or until I have no choice in the matter.

No matter what, every single day, I never give up hope that I will someday be deserving of seeing her smiling face again.

Someday...

Chapter Seven: Epilogue (Oblivion Park)

Klaus puts both his hands out in front of him, wiggling his fingers as he concentrates. "Alakazam, ghosties!"

And...nothing.

Our newly alive again ghost whispering brother looks very perplexed at his inability to use his powers, as do all of us.

After the recently resurrected, much less ape-like looking Luther finishes angrily grabbing me by my collar, yelling at me about Sloane being missing from our group, I am forced to tell him I have no idea where she is. He clearly thinks this is my fault and he does not look pleased when I add that she may not even be in this new utopian version of the world our dad and Allison must have created with that little coup they pulled back in the hotel hell that miraculously had been right here a few minutes ago but isn't now.

Everyone is having their own usual meltdowns, babbling on like always about themselves. Then, after zero discussion, other than that we have no powers, and deciding that we are pretty much shit out of luck with what to do about that, they all just start to wander off.

Again, taking another look at my suddenly reappeared severed arm, I shake my head in disbelief. It's nice to have that back, and not have blood all over my brand-new suit, and not be dying but...

Looking up at Lila’s excited expression and Diego’s equally eager look, then the bronze statue of dad’s head, I can’t help my frown.

They are all leaving. After everything.

We almost just got kugelblitzed. Reginald nearly just killed us. He sucked our powers from us like we are nothing more than batteries that he always planned to drain, then he just threw us away, and this is what we do about it? We abandon each other? Have we learned nothing?

Really?

Cursing, Ben disappears the same way Luther just left without so much as a goodbye.

Viktor clearly feels the same way I do about this, and despite him trying to stop them, he is losing his fight to keep us all together, but I shouldn’t really be upset or surprised by that or any of this.

Thinking and trying to understand what just happened and what this means, it dawns on me that we might have actually done it this time.

Well, maybe we didn’t, but Reginald or Allison did. Either way, they never would have reset the world on a course that was going to simply end again in a few days.

That means the apocalypse is over. We are safe. Lila is right. We can start to live our life as we want for once.

I spin around, my suit jacket swinging open from the momentum. It’s just me and Viktor left with our dad’s monument between us.

My eyes widen with realization. “Fee,” I whisper under my breath.

Twisting on my heel, I start picking up pace as I head toward the large stone arch leading out of the circular garden.

“Five! Where are you going?” Viktor shouts, interrupting my racing thoughts and my attempt at a hasty departure.

The heels of my dress shoes grind on the loose stone path as I turn back. “I am going to find Fee.”

“Who?”

“Phoebe Leroux.” Just saying her name out loud makes my heart feel so tight. It always aches when I think about her, but I’ll never stop.

"Who is Phoebe Leroux?"

My brows furrow as my mind goes back to her, remembering.

“Fee is a woman that I have been in love with for nearly forty-five years,” I quietly admit, “and she is someone that I wronged very, very badly.” I pause as I think about the extremely heavy truth of that.

Seeing Viktor looking at me like he has no clue what the hell I am talking about, I find myself laughing even though I shouldn't be. It's like a madness erupting in me that I can control. They know nothing about Fee. Not even The Commission let on that they knew she was with me in the apocalypse even though I am sure they knew. All of this is madness but it's finally over. We are finally free of all of it.

I stride back, meeting Viktor halfway in the shadowy garden. Running my hand back through my hair, I shake my head, trying to think of a way to explain all this.

“I met Fee only once, back when we were sixteen, and I epically fouled up that first brief encounter. Then, as fate would have it, because she had powers like we do, she survived when the ‘moon’ thing went down.”

I try to smile at Viktor when I air quote the moon thing, and that’s because I know full well that he still feels awful about that. My small overture gets him to return one of his very awkward looking grins.

Placing my hands back in my pockets, I continue explaining. “Phoebe was there alone in the apocalypse too, and she found me and saved me when I was about to die because I’m a never-ending arrogant asshole. That bright moment on my list of many happened five years into that hell. Her saving me is what ultimately got us all to this point, so I guess, in a way, she’s the one that saved everyone. She is the bravest, most caring person I have ever met, and I love her.”

“You mean you weren’t alone all those years?” Viktor looks utterly confused and even more floored by my explanation. “I mean, other than Dolores? I know you were with her and all that, and she is very real to you but…” he tries to clarify. “I am sorry, that’s not coming out right at all,” he apologizes, his pale cheeks flaming.

I smile at my brother’s embarrassment over my lifelong romantic relationship with a mannequin. I can’t exactly blame him for still being weirded out about that. “Don’t apologize, you have no reason to, and yes,” I say with another laugh. “I was with my loving Dolores for the entirety of my time in the apocalypse, but there was a short time when we weren’t alone. For eight months, seventeen days, ten hours, thirty-six minutes and give or take forty-nine seconds we were madly in love with a very special, very real woman.”

“Where’d she go?”

My somewhat manic smile evaporates as I think about what happened.

“We had a stupid fight about me being stupid. Fee went for a walk to give me space to calm down and get my shit together.” I have to stop to swallow the lump in my throat. “I messed up and I let her down. She didn’t deserve that from me, not after everything.” The lump comes back, but I speak through it, my voice cracking just a little. “There had been storms for weeks, and…” I look down at my shoes. “She drowned,” I simply say because I’m unable to say more.

“Oh no, Five! That’s-”

“That was a long time ago,” I quickly add, cutting him off, trying to let Viktor know he doesn’t need to say anything. I don’t want him to.

This is why I never told any of them. One, because everyone, including myself, were too wrapped up in their own things and jumping through time and fucking everything up, but it's also because I didn’t want them to know. If they did, it would just be one more thing I have to explain about my dark life that is too hard for me to talk about.

Something feels different now though. I want Viktor to know. Memories of Fee playing her guitar and me telling her about my siblings fill my mind with warm loving nights cuddling next to her by the fire, me talking with her for hours, back when I was happy.

The Handler was right. We all want happy.

A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth when I remember telling Fee of how my sister may not have had powers like us, but she was a very kind and passionate and proficient musician that I knew she’d get along with famously because they were actually very similar in many ways.

Avoiding that same person I had long ago told Fee about and their wide eyed, very concerned gaze they are giving me, I look around again, checking out what I can see of the city skyline peeking out over the tall, groomed hedges. Slowly I count in my head the days since when the apocalypse should have ended all this.

Fee would have caught a flight this morning out of Salt Lake City. Based on the time, she is supposed to be performing at a location not that far from here.

“I have to go,” I say as I start walking away.

“What are you going to do, Five?” Viktor asks.

“I need to deliver a long overdue apology.”

“But if the apocalypse didn’t happen and you guys never met again, how’s she-”

“It doesn’t matter if she remembers what we had,” I say, interrupting him. “I still owe her an apology.” Viktor just stares at me with his big brown eyes looking so lost, so I find myself saying, “I just need to see her again. It’s been so long and I…”

I can’t even begin to say how I feel, so I don’t.

Viktor stuffs his hands in his pockets the same way I have mine. “Well, if you want company, I would be happy to come with you for emotional support,” he offers.

“You mean like my wingman?” I correct him with a knowing smile.

Viktor isn’t like the rest of them, ready to leave everyone behind and never look back. He has never been that person. As his older brother, this time around my instinct to take care of him is stronger than my desire to figure out how to save the world and that's because it is figured out. No more apocalypse, that's all that matters. All this has me thinking that doing what my girl taught me, showing a little more heart, and by doing so, letting him be my ‘wingman’ isn’t a horrible idea.

Viktor nervously laughs. “Yeah, I guess I mean like that. This woman sounds pretty special, maybe you can hope for more than just a chance to say you’re sorry. If she forgave you for whatever happened between you two when you were sixteen, and she fell for you once before, then maybe she will again. You are only a few years younger than you were. You're technically legal, so maybe that wouldn’t be too…” He nervously laughs again, and I can’t help but join him.

I am physically eighteen instead of fifty-eight thanks to accidentally fucking up a decimal placement in my math so yeah… At least I'm legal as he so nicely just reminded me, then again, Fee is five years younger, so...

“Yeah, maybe…” I agree with a smirk, thinking about what Phoebe would have to say about all that and my nerdy, even more boyish appearance than what she had to deal with the first time. Looking back over at my brother, I nod. “Well Viktor, I think I’ll take you up on that offer, if you’re willing to be my emotional support sibling, I’ll take it. Clearly, I can use all the help I can get.”

Viktor nods back, probably unable to come up with words to express his shock over my rare show of maturity and willingness to admit so openly that I need someone.

As my brother and I silently start walking out of the garden the same why the rest of our family vanished, we begin to take note of all the strange new buildings that weren't there before, especially the fact that nearly half of them appear to be owned by none other than Sir Reginal Hargreeves, the alien ass lord who is responsible for stripping us of our powers and for us being here.

Moving down the sidewalk heading towards the busy downtown, I know I should be more concerned about all that, but my old broken heart in my new young body races as I let myself think about Fee and all the possibilities a woman like that can bring to a broken man’s life if she’s willing.

She saved me once before, so maybe, just maybe, she will open her beautiful heart to an old crazy wretch like me and do it all over again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Link from a special request scene extension from the point he found her.

Thanks to all who read this one. ❤️

Master Post List to all my Five Centric Stories and Art

Link to visit me on AO3

Link to my other posts on Tumblr

[kayakoto-enterprises]

Burmean Python [2/2]

Do it. Do it. Do it. Part 2 of 2. Please read the first part before proceeding!

I love these messy lesbians and I'll finally draw them tomorrow!

General warnings that apply for BTTWNS in general (gore, drugging, torture). Also a bit suggestive but not explicit in some areas.

I had to stop and catch my breath. When the telephone rang out as loud as death.

What does anatomy permit? What does it limit? Mice eat seeds, cats eat mice, jackals kill cats, bears kill jackals- that's the way the world works. Some people are just meant to be killed to make ends meet. How do you put this reality lightly? Julianne is such a sensitive soul. She cries over wasted food. Her ears obviously droop when she gets scared. She's always asking people if they're alright. I always knew about the bad relationships she found herself in. The people she attached herself to. The person she killed. Honestly if it wasn't a jackal I would've been happier.

It sounds insensitive to say out loud in any way one could put it. Maybe you shouldn't tell your girlfriend she's well far down the food chain. A domesticated cat, no less: they have zero hunting skills, they're quite spoilt, and lazier than any other critter I've seen in my lifetime. When I woke up this morning I turned to my side to wake up my guest but was left disappointed nobody was there. When you wake up next to a murderer what do you do?

I'm sure she's in her apartment still sleeping. She's next to her plushies and she's going to the city and meet with a client. Later she'll eat the beef bowl she always orders at Guy's on her way home. Then she'll find her favorite cake on her favorite plate from her favorite girl on their anniversary.

Today, the world revolved like nothing had happened last night. Nobody wondered why there was a screaming match at my house. Nobody had asked me about my relationship today. A slow afternoon commenced like usual. I opened up my journal and noticed the wedding invitation slip under the counter. Picking it up from the upside, Kaku's cursive handwriting said "Ms. Strong & Ms. Lucky". I opened it up to read the details. Ticking every benchmark a Woodbrook wedding would have. At the chapel. At 2 pm. A lakeside reception. No white. Wear blue and yellow- it's tropical.

"To be held...on November 17th, 1987. RSVP for 2."

On this slow fall afternoon there was nothing after me after all. I've just attracted a swarm of wasps on myself. I pushed the envelope flap back and pressed, pocketing it in my jacket.

The folded bike slid neatly into the cabinet next to the door. I went to open the radio to fill out the empty space. I've stayed alone for 20 years but I somehow couldn't bear a night with my own thoughts. I set a dinner set for two almost like routine. Something new's been hardwired into my system. Longing to not be alone. Longing to have something to hold me back. A safety net. A harness. Handcuffs. I closed my eyes holding the spare pillow I bought for her.

I opened my eyes greeted by a headache and a thick fog that surrounded the forests of Golden Apple City. I had wrapped my apron into a makeshift pillow and my toolbag was missing from my side. I jolted up in panic running through foliage keeping my eyes open for it. A loose branch tripped me off my balance and I landed face down on the stream from my new camp. Someone set up my hoist. Peeking behind a tree there were wild jackals swarming the body hung on it. They began licking the fresh wound pouring with blood before they could begin their business. Despite the deep cut on the carotid artery it was wincing, struggling and still aware of the torture it was going through. Once the fog began to clear around the injured body, my mind shut down when I recognized it was Julianne struggling to get off the mechanism. She began wiggling about to loosen the rope on her ankles and hit the floor once the tripod lost its balance. Her face planted into the plate pooling her blood and she began panthing looking around her for help. Her eyes met mine and she ran. I chased after her to the end of the thick forest and into the altar. She fell to the ground weakly and called for Kaku and Liv's help. "I'm live bait" she screamed "Sam set me up in there and watched me get torn to shreds. God saw what she did."

Fuck. It can't be, can it? Someone knows and someone is gonna tell. I have to do something. And I need to do it quick.

The essentials are here. Knives. Ropes. Gloves. Syringes. Plastic. An excuse. I stuffed as much painless remedies as I could in a flurry of sweat and fear. I started the truck and quickly made my way to the edge of town where the Sunset Valley apartments stood. I put on my jacket walking to the entrance of the complex. Visiting hours are over it seems. There's still a chance she's awake. Looking up to the 5th floor, the window with a fake stained glass design was still wide open. The lights were dim as usual but she's surely awake at this hour.

Cling, cling, cling... Cling, cling, cling...

That should attract her to cautiously look around her. She nervously peered out the window, sleepy eyes widening seeing me right outside. Her paws gestured to keep myself quiet. I only replied to her that we needed to talk now. Her green eyes widened then drooped, nodding before locking the window. Minutes later, Julianne was downstairs in a cami top and shorts. I checked my watch- yes, it's 2:27 am.

"It's so late.." She began "Why are you still awake?" "Same question for you." I shrugged, unlocking the door for her "Were you going to sleep?" "I already was but I couldn't. I don't know why." Julianne yawned, stretching her arms up as her teeth chattered instinctively again. "Let's..talk about..yesterday...at our favorite hiding place." The truck slowly drove its way down town, dreading what could happen next.

About that first question,

What does anatomy permit? What does it limit?

Python bivittatus, also known as the Burmean Python, is a choke artist. It is powerful enough to kill a deer. To be able to kill such a large pest, they bite their prey then quickly coil around it- crushing their air supply and autonomy, and only then can it spread its venom into the bloodstream. The bigger the prey, the more energy it takes. It's taking a year. It only took a year for this to begin falling apart. I've bitten into her. She's excitable, eager for touch or affection of any kind even when it stings. It makes her melt when I place my palms on her round figure. She purrs when I comb her fur. She's already been marked as my prop. My decorative toy. And she likes the role. Coil around her by being ever present in her lonely life. Give her a space to stay in my house. Invite myself into her space. Spend nights in the forest looking at the stars. Break those protective walls and defenses until she's completely in my palm ready to serve. I remember one night I stayed over after a trip to the city. The warm dim lights invited me immediately to bed, my body sore from harboring a moose to and from the truck that afternoon. It was a big catch- I would have said if I was stupid enough. Julianne sat next to me and asked if I wanted to order in dinner. I shook my head then absentmindedly crawled to lay my head on her lap. She laughed and called me adorable. Her paws ran through my fur. I could hear her purring. I rolled back to look up at her, admiring her soft features lit by the moon outside. I asked her if I could hear one story before I crashed in again.

"Personal, Public Domain, or Original?" She held me closer to her chest like a stuffed animal.

"Whatever you can think of now."

"Well...once upon a time, there was a princess who woke up in a tower. It was dilapidated, gloomy, and cold. There was barely anything in the tower. A bed, a shelf, a bag full of clothes, and a sword were her only company until smoke filled the room. She looked out the window and saw a fierce dragon guarding the prison."

"However, upon further inspection she found that the dragon was also chained. Its bounds connected to the tower itself. It was shaking in fear. At first the princess was afraid that if she stepped out of line, the dragon would fly away, crushing the tower down with her. But it was timid and pitied the princess. They both had no idea how the princess got trapped in the first place. Hell knows its not the dragon who did it. They were clueless but they bonded over their imprisonment. The dragon grew close to love the princess. It swore to protect her from everything that came into the cave they were in. Many men, princes of every kingdom came to save the damsel but the dragon burnt them to a crisp."

"One day, the princess' father came with an army of men angered that the dragon had killed all the men he offered his daughter up to. Thousands climbed the tower to retrieve the prize. Hundreds stabbed the dragon to stabalize it. They were both screaming for help. Afraid of what would happen inside the tower, the dragon flew up. The tower tumbled over the army and killing the princess inside it."

Suddenly my sleepiness left me as I sat back up to process the story. "You can't make childrens' books with stories like that, Sweetie. That's so sad." I said, looking up to the glow in the dark stars on her short cieling. She laid next to me moments later, tickling her fingers to intertwine with mine.

"Yeah but it's interesting though, right? People who love each other stuck in their own prisons."

I looked back to her and slowly blinked. She repeated the gesture.

"How'd you know that?"

"Melody and I used to...do things."

"Huh." There was a saddened look on her face. I quickly pacified it by pulling her closer to me, squishing her soft sides to tease her. She pulled her ears back.

"Well forget about that now, she's still obsessed with her husband, Hun. There's nothing I can do especially when I have you." Then here it comes: the venom. I parked in front of the elementary school building. This shouldn't take long. I took her hand as we walked through the uneven earth. Some of the rocks that used to be visible had been consumed by the kudzu. We agreed it was less of an eyesore now until we nearly tripped on its branches. The moon was high above us, guiding us to a clearing surrounded by oak.

"I'm sorry." I whispered, cupping her right cheek as I kissed the left from behind her. I reached for a syringe filled with curare. Positioning her closer to me, I flicked the cap off, ready to pierce the skin. My hands were shaky. I fought against the thought of backing off. She knew too much. She had to go. Now.

"Don't move."

She stood still with her fists clenched then began toying with her hands. A cold chill swept around us and her tail flew up blocking the bullseye.

I dropped it. My hands redirected to taking off my jacket and wrapping it around her like a blanket. Julianne turned around when she felt the weight of the clothing on her shoulders.

"Just put it on. It's cold here."

She obediently nodded, putting it on and noticing it was a bit too big for her. I quickly picked up the open syringe and cap, hiding it in my back pocket. I looked at my shaky hands. It was hard to even keep something still in my hands.

"Is there something wrong with your hand?"

Julianne put hers into mine. Like magic the anxiety running through them calmed.

"No. Let's sit down, shall we?"

The wind continued to blow against our fur sitting on the tall grass. We stared at the craters of the moon for hours with the right words stuck in our throats. Julianne rested her chin on my shoulder.

"Are you ever afraid of being alone?" She asked. "I can live on my own. I don't need anyone. But living with you for almost a year now puts a lot of things into perspective. I do like company. Just when they aren't trying to get me in jail or trying to sleep with me through murder...when they're naive." "Do you think I'm naive?" "Just a little bit. But that's what you are when you're young. You're excited. But everytime I pursue something in a relationship, it has to end with me being alone. It's my nature. I'll always be alone."

Julianne frowned. She began to tear up but stopped herself from feeling further.

"I'm still here, Samantha." "Why?" "I dunno. I'm a fool I guess. And you're a sweetheart, you know? Even if you try and tell me that you're nothing like what you put on for Woodbrook, when we're alone you look at me fondly and you smile. I never knew that feeling until you make me think about it."

I reached back to completely hide the syringe. I felt guilty for once trying to kill someone.

"I look at you like that because you make rooms feel nice. And it isn't fake or anything." "So I'm not just bottom of the food chain junk to you after all." "What? No, no you're not. It's just a pessimistic philosophy I've enrolled into when I was young for survival's sake. I'm telling you now you don't believe in it or else you'll end up like me."

I brushed her tears away with my thumb and peppered kisses on her forehead.

"I'll keep your secret, okay? You just promise me one thing.." "Even if I killed a jackal?" "You could've killed a lion. I'll keep my mouth shut."

She buried her face into her kneecaps in shame. I continued to brush the fur on her upper back, sprinkling in a few tickles on her sensitive spots. After a while she sat back up giggling between sniffles.

"H-hey, I'm weak there." "I know. I know what I'm doing." "I hope you do.."

She invited me down to lay on the grass, pressing her soft body down as kissed her. This new energy release and repeat satiated the need I felt that night. I still couldn't keep my hands still. They were wandering around her. I couldn't let that go. Not yet. Not now. Oh god not ever if I can. "Sam, I-I can't wait for you to get better. I need you, you know? You can kill all the critters, I'd prefer if you didn't, but there's nothing you can say or do that'd drive me away."

"I'm not someone to look up to, Julianne."

"I'm an awful person too, dammit. Let me also be jealous and ugly."

I carried her into my arms and cradled her like a doll. I felt her tummy through the fabric of the jacket but before I could tease her further I remembered something was inside its inner pockets.

"Unzip that for me, please?" "Middle of the forest, honey." "No, not that, Jesus. There's something I wanna show you." I put up the invitation from Kaku. Julianne's eyes immediately grew bigger.

"Ohhh oh they're getting married? Already?! Wow this is such nice paper..." Julianne carefully flipped through the stationery.

"They've been around Woodbrook for ten years now. It makes sense they'll marry. Seen them since I was in college."

"Huh. If it's tropical themed, why won't Liv just get married on the beach.."

"Too expensive..hey, do you have a blue dress?" I redirected her focus on the little footnote on the dress code. She looked at me and shook her head.

"I gotta look. All the stuff I display is pink or brown or white. I think I do..." She looked back up at the stars before looking back to me.

"I'm glad we talked this through. Or over. Or under. I couldn't sleep without someone next to me now it's stupid."

"Aww. Do you want me to sleep at your place?"

Julianne slowly tilted her head as she blinked.

"It'd be an honor."

[sinnabarmoth]

Safe Together

*I was thinking about the end of Season 4 and wanted a short fix it fic that just exuded warmth and safety and some levity. This is what happened. With some light Steddie in the mix.*

---

It had been a long day and what felt like an even longer night. They had defeated Vecna and by some miracle everyone had made it out with only some minor to moderate injuries. Nothing life threatening so any trips to the hospital were put on hold.

The entire team, Robin, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, Max and Erica sat in the van bandaging each other up in silence. There was no big celebration. Perhaps they would come to that later. Everything right now was just quiet as they breathed in the fact that they had made it out alive.

The most anyone spoke was Max telling everyone about El piggybacking into her possession and fighting off Vecna. Will, Johnathan, Mike, El, and their friend Argyle were on their way to Indiana. And no one had heard from Mrs.Byers.

The following days would be hard to get through. Jason was still out there causing panic in the streets and Eddie was still suspected of murder. But they were alive. They were alive and they had won yet again.

“Where do we go?” Dustin asked, “We can’t exactly let Eddie wander off on his own while we go home.”

“I don’t really wanna be away from anyone right now.” Max said. She was still shaking. “Can we...I don’t know. Stay at someone’s house? All of us?”

“We can go to my house.” Steve said. “My parents are still in France on vacation so the house is empty. Got plenty of space and no one will come looking for Eddie there.”

“Sounds good to me. Slumber party at Harrington’s.” Eddie winced as he sat forward. The bat bites probably hurt like a bitch.

They drove out to Steve’s house. He made a quick sweep of the house to double check that no one was there before ushering everyone inside. The moment they were in the house things became a little more lighthearted.

Everyone washed up and since no one wanted to be alone they dragged the mattresses from the bedrooms and the cushions off the couch to create a giant communal sleeping area in the living room.

Nancy, Dustin, and Erica were in the kitchen making whatever food they could find while Steve, Lucas, and Max set up the mattresses with pillows and blankets. Robin was rifling through the medicine cabinets for painkillers and Eddie was looking for movies or music or anything to keep them entertained and take their minds off of what they went through.

“Oh my god, Steve, why do you have zero snacks in this house?” Dustin groaned from the kitchen. “The most I can find are some stale crackers and those hard candies that every old person seems to own. What even are these?”

“Oh right, my dad hides the junk food so mom doesn’t yell at him about his cholesterol. Look in the far right back corner of the cabinet next to the sink.” Steve called back as he dropped another blanket onto the nest of cushions they had created. “If you go in the basement there’s another freezer where you can find ice cream and some frozen soft pretzels.”

“Oh thank god!” Dustin came back up with popcorn, cookies, chips, and even a few cups of pudding. He immediately went down to fetch the ice cream and pretzels. Nancy and Erica were at the stove making some instant mashed potatoes and frozen meatballs. It wasn’t much but it should fill everyone up.

“So,” Eddie came back with a few tapes in his hands. “We have our choice between Dumbo, Old Yeller, and Gone with the Wind. Harrington, why is it that the movies you own suck?”

“Cause, again, you guys are just going through the family stuff. I think I still have The Muppets Take Manhattan in my room. I haven’t returned it yet.”

“Muppets?” Robin looked at him. “You said your mom made you rent it.”

“Fine. You caught me! I like the Muppets. Sue me! I think we all could use something lighthearted after tonight!”

“Muppets it is.” Eddie walked off again. “I get to go snoop around Steve’s room!”

“What?” Steve blanched, “Oh hell no! Eddie! Eddie do not go in my room!”

For a man with abdominal wounds Eddie raced up the stairs with great speed. “Munson! I mean it!” Steve raced after him.

“What does he have up there that he doesn’t want anyone to see?” Max asked.

“His diary. Dirty underwear. Playgirls.” Robin shrugged. “That sort of thing.”

“Don’t you mean Playboys?” Lucas looked confused.

Robin went pale. “Ugh, right. Yes. I meant Playboys.” This was not going to be the way that everyone found out that Steve was into guys. That needed to be done in his own time.

“How do you know about Playboys, Lucas?” Max cocked her head at her...boyfriend? It was unclear if they were back together or not. Considering how much they kept near each other since leaving the Creele house the odds were looking good for a reconciliation.

“Ugh...hey, Nancy, you need help in the kitchen? I’m gonna come help you.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Max caught him by the collar.

There was a loud thump from upstairs and more pounding footsteps. Eddie came racing back down the steps with Steve on his heels. “He has an ewok plush!” Eddie held up the furry little toy. “Steve “The Hair” Harrington has an ewok plush!”

“Damn it Munson!” Steve tackled him and they landed in the living room. Everyone paused to watch the two young adult men with matching, fresh bat bite wounds, roll on the mattresses, fighting for a Star Wars toy.

Steve wrenched the toy out of Eddie’s hands and held it close to his chest. “Do not touch Gerald!” he shouted.

There was a long moment of heavy silence. The boys were breathing heavy and just staring at each other. Then, Eddie started laughing. Steve slumped and started laughing too. The laughter stretched through the house and hit everyone else. Soon everyone was doubled over laughing till they were red in the face.

Perhaps they had finally cracked. Maybe they were going mad. But damn if it just didn’t matter.

Everyone started gravitating towards each other, leaning on one another as they howled with laughter. Then slowly, the laughter grew louder and turned into wails. Everyone was now holding tight out of grief. Tears falling and heaving sobs.

All of the trauma, all of the horror they had seen and experienced. Not just today but, for some, three years now. It all came pouring out in this one moment where they knew they were safe.

Max especially couldn’t hold in the grief and guilt she had been feeling ever since Billy died. Lucas held her close, squeezing her tight.

The sobs quieted back into sniffling silence. Everyone wiped at their eyes and unclenched their hands from whoever they were holding. There was a deep breath and they all piled in together. They distributed the food and snacks as Steve put the vhs in the player.

The atmosphere eased and they let the horror and grief wander farther away as they watched the Muppets. By the time the movie ended most everyone had fallen asleep. Save Steve who was going around cleaning up wrappers and dirty plates and cups from the sleeping hub.

He set the dirty dishes in the sink and tossed the wrappers and boxes and bottles in the trash. He heard soft footsteps behind him and looked up to see Eddie tiptoeing around the others. He gingerly made his way over to the kitchen where Steve was.

“Hey man,” he whispered. “Need any help?”

“No. I got it.” Steve answered. “Why are you still up?”

“It’s been hard to sleep since...Chrissy.”

“I get it. I barely slept after the first time I saw the demogorgon. It takes time but you’ll find deep sleeps again.”

Eddie looked back at the others fast asleep in the living room. “It’s so messed up. All of this is fucked.”

“Yeah. But we gotta keep living or else what have we been fighting for this entire time?” Steve looked Eddie up and down still in his stained jeans and bloodied t-shirt. “You want some more comfortable clothes to sleep in? Everyone else already raided my wardrobe for clean clothes. There’s probably a pair of sweatpants still leftover somewhere.”

Eddie looked down at his soiled outfit and nodded. “Good call.”

Steve went back to his room and rifled through his drawers. He found a pair of pajama pants and a clean soft t-shirt that he tossed Eddie’s way. Eddie winced a little as he changed. It would take some time before those bites healed. Probably make for some sick scars though.

Neither of them were in a hurry to go back down to the others. They would not be sleeping for a while. So they remained in Steve’s room, sitting on the bed frame without a mattress and just talked. At first they were talking about all the messed up shit that had been happening since ‘83 and then the conversation shifted. They talked about school memories, funny stories, bad dates, and family drama.

Eddie hadn’t expected to relate to Steve so much and Steve could say the same. Turns out they had more in common then having kind of adopted Dustin as their little brother. There was even more they had in common that they didn’t talk about. Things that would take more time to come to terms with. More trust needing to be built to admit. And a great deal more of bravery needed to tell each other.

Yawns became heavier and Steve and Eddie returned to the living room. There was only a small space barely big enough for the both of them left amongst the pile of bodies. They nestled in, pulling one of the remaining blankets over them.

“Night Munson.” Steve mumbled as his eyes fell closed.

“Sweet dreams Harrington” Eddie yawned once more and followed him into a well deserved sleep.

Tomorrow would be a mess but tonight, tonight they were safe.

[dgiacomo]

Friday Munday question

how old do you headcanon the zero crew (Florian/Juliana, Arven, Nemona and Penny) to be? Since I saw your post about Team Star’s ages and it got me wondering about Penny’s other friends

[That's a tricky question. XD I definitely have rough ages in mind for them, but I've mostly thought about Team Star as it's... what this blog/comic is about, haha! I'll try and remember my thoughts!

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As I've said before... Florian and Juliana... they are the characters who are the "main" player characters, the ones with the 'raidons who went to Area Zero etc. So they exist, but they're usually off doing their thing and don't have much to do with Giacomo as such at the moment... it's why I mostly haven't addressed them as I wasn't entirely sure if they existed here or not. XD But I guess they would. One of them at very least.

On ages, I'd set them the same as the rest of the Champion kids, 11 years old. That's the base expected age for a base Pokémon game (that isn't Black 2/White 2 or Legends Arceus, or a spin off like Colosseum).

They're probably the peak of bizarre Champion kid vibes because they're so OP. XD

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Next, Nemona. She's fairly easy to place for me, I read her as 16 or 17 or so. She's got no baggage as such, she's not connected to Team Star OR the Professors, she's just doing her school education. She's in her final year to be Student Council President... and she's also been there and done that on the whole "becoming Champion" thing... there's no evidence she's been held back years or anything and whilst she doesn't look old, she doesn't look young either... so it feels pretty straightforward, I feel.

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For Penny, I think she's older than she looks, even though she is your "underclassman" and "in your year". We know she was sent back to Galar for at least 1.5 years after what happened with Team Star and she's basically had to start again, so she's definitely older than the player character (as is the case, I feel, with ALL of Team Star). Before that, as I said with my explanation for Giacomo's age, there has to have been a bunch of years that passed for the whole bullying and Team Star thing to come to pass... she might not have been at the school as long as Giacomo, but she was definitely there long enough to decide that bullying was a problem she wanted to approach...

I figure, especially since she's a foreign student, she actually came to the Academy as a university or maybe college (6th form, end of high school(?)) level student for further studies in the STEM track. She was likely 16 to 18 when she first attended, but that was years ago at this point. I don't think she's as old as Giacomo, though... I feel he's the oldest of the bunch of Team Star. Surely she was attending when Giacomo was being Student Council President and knows all about that (as do the rest of Team Star's bosses), which was about 3 years prior to this blog/comic (by this comic's lore).

(On a side note, I don't think it was explicitly Nemona that replaced Giacomo as Student Council President... since that would mean she's been president for over 2 years XD They say "some other nerd" or something in the flashback cutscene, that could literally be anybody.)

Going from that, it would make Penny from around 19 to 22 on this blog at least! This might change though, I'll be going through Penny's content in more depth before she turns up for the movie night so... XD; We'll see!

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And finally, Arven. This one's a tough one! He's another with history and baggage who hasn't been turning up to his classes and probably got held back multiple years through in-attendance. I think he is also older than you first might assume! He doesn't really have much to do with Team Star, so I haven't thought about him much, but my thoughts are this;

As I said, he's had a tough time with the academy and life in general what with stuff regarding his parents and everything... we know he's been skiving lessons, but I can't remember if they mention how long for... I'm pretty sure somebody like Clavell drops times or something he's known the Professors (but I could be misremembering)... I even went through and tried to rewatch a bunch of Arven cutscenes to better answer this, but I can't find anything like it since I think a lot of fine details like that are in dialogue when you talk to characters, not cutscenes themselves... particularly with people like Clavell ABOUT Arven, not including him... =( If anybody has any screenshots of that sort about how long Clavell's known the professors or any indication how long it's been Arven's been without his parents etc. it would really help! I foolishly didn't take screenshots thinking I wouldn't need them...

In any case, I can't imagine him living on his own before his teen years and doing very well... or it being legal XD; I'm pretty sure I saw a good analysis somewhere that said something about him being 11 or 12 at some point in the story and it's been about 10 years since then? But I can't remember the specifics... I feel like that would be reasonable thinking though, him being around 20/21, especially with him trying to find a cure for Mabosstiff. I wish I had that analysis to hand.

It's awkward, I can't find any time scales in the cutscenes I rewatched as to just how much time has passed since each of these events happened... how long's he been looking for a cure for Mabosstiff? When did he go to Area Zero and get Mabosstiff hurt? Any of that info as a date would help!

Going by his build (wide, has the flat chin like Giacomo), his experiences (skipping school, family life etc.) and his striking facial hair (sideburns, very impressive, Arven), I would also put him at around 21 years old, personally... but unless I can find any kind of indication WHEN these events happened? I can't be sure, which is frustrating! =(

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This took all day to compile and I'm a bit iffy about posting it because of the same reasons I mentioned in the previous post about Giacomo... XD; Eh... it's just speculation that applies specifically to this blog. Again, it doesn't invalidate any thoughts you may personally have.

Long story short, don't really know, hahaha XD

Thanks for asking, I hope it was an interesting read!]

[uhohbestie]

hi it's me again the girl who went insane over your guys' writing!!! anyways

i have a special interest in the hypotheticals of zombie apocalypses and have spent actual months researching and thinking about what the most realistic way of a zombie apocalypse would be; and from that research i've kinda concluded that the most realistic way for zombies to happen in our normal world would be the cordyceps fungi!

if you're unfamiliar with it, it's a fungi that essentially "takes over" insects for growth and development by manipulating the insects system in a way that makes it act like a "zombie" ! its what was used in the last of us and it's surprisingly the most realistic thing that could happen to us. if i recall correctly cordyceps has actually spread to other things larger than insects in the more recent past, which adds the possibility for it happening to humans as well. freaky, right?

enough about that ,, i've been thinking nonstop about how the decomposition process works in tamn? since the apocalypse started in summer, if i recall correctly, would some of the early infected decayed easier? do the zombies even decay? is whatever it is that's making them a zombie actively stopping the decay? since we're in winter now, would the decay stop a bit? if the zombie fully decayed, would they just turn into a normal skeleton?

you might not have an answer for this but i've also been thinking about how the infection came to be? is it like a fantasy thing, just "oops, we've got zombies now!" or is it another thing? cordyceps adjacent? where did the infection first start? how long did it take before it reached scar and grian in california? were other parts of the world infected and they were just unaware? are some parts of the world not infected yet? has the infection wiped out certain parts of the world?

and another thing; is there any chance at all of the world going back to normal here? was there also any sense of civilisation after everything hit? in the last of us, they had those "quarantine zones" which were controlled by the military and were essentially safe zones. was there anything like this that scarian was unaware of?

and finally (on a joking note) why the hell did grian have to get bit in my state man... i was like ! oh theyre in oregon oh my god !!

Oh He's Dead Okay...

that's enough kono rambling in your guys' ask box for one day.... love you guys and this fic 🫶 happy fourth arc you two!!! can't wait to see the end of this absolutely amazing piece of writing🥹

Hilariously, as much as we've thought about the trials and tribulations of what Scar and Grian are going through and feeling, we haven't actually spent a lot of time focusing on the cause of the zombie outbreak or its spread at all!

We did write a short fic about Patient Zero (set in the same world/timeline, but entirely separate from Grian and Scar), and how the virus originally broke out and began to spread. (Basically it was a sleep study for a medication trial gone awry.) We've been writing from the perspective that the United States was the first point of the outbreak, and that the infection spread from west to east across the continent (so as Scar and Grian travel, they're actually heading AGAINST the spread, and working through areas that have already experienced the first wave of the outbreak).

We imagine the infection spread haphazardly, and so there are probably untouched pockets where people are fine and haven't had to experience the outbreak yet. (One of the things we kept in mind while writing was that every state had a different approach to handling the outbreak. Some told people to shelter in place, others encouraged them to leave their homes. That's why some of the towns Grian and Scar passed through were entirely empty, rather than full of infected.) Hilariously, one of the consequences of crossing paths with Scarian in this fic is that everyone leaves them going "screw finding other survivors, I'm better off on my own."

As for whether or not the world will be able to recover from the outbreak: that remains to be seen! It depends upon a lot of factors, but most of all we just don't want to spoil any of the potential endings for the fic >:3 (Luckily we're in the fourth arc now, so it's not too far away!)

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Key here adding in!

Zombies were a huuuge hyperfixation of mine from before I even knew what hyperfixations were LOL So actually I went down the same research hole as you aaages ago--long before I ever got into Hermitcraft! :D The cordyceps fungi were such an interesting topic to me, and I remember being really into the reports about ants and other insects being controlled by them :") Which is why, when The Last of Us came out, like... YEARS ago lmao, I was all over it! :D Love the way the game played it all out and, actually, I cajoled Lock into watching the Live action remake of it with me when it came out last year :3

Lock already linked you to our version of How The Infection Started in the origin fic we did, but fwiw, TAMN takes place in the immediate aftermath of the apocalypse, unlike TLOU which takes places years after it (beyond the initial setup in any case). So while there aren't any huge safe zones/militarized areas/quarantine locations that Scarian know of yet, it simply might just be because communications are down and it's hard to get information from one state to another at the end of the world. For all they know, there could be thriving communities out there--they just haven't been to one. (In the same vein, Scar and Grian have no idea what the rest of the world is doing. It might be just fine! Maybe the virus has been contained in North America and the rest of the world is just watching the fallout. They simply don't have the means to find out at this point, and Lock and I probably won't say one way or another until the fic ends ;3)

As for decaying, the apocalypse started a few days after Halloween, so it was already cold in many parts of the US. As such, I don't think the rotting would've progressed and festered as badly as the summer heat would've done. That said, at the point we're at right now, it's been what? Almost two months? So while the cold certainly slows it down somewhat, there are plenty of corpses that have reached a fetid, rank state 😬

Always a pleasure to hear from you Kono! Hope these replies give you something to chew on :D 💜

[fiction-box]

Hello! Here is an idea if you are up for it. Separate fics for Felix & Reader and Marianne & Reader, please.

Near the end of an arduous battle, one goes missing. The other one defies a direct order to stay with the group - instead returns to the battlefield alone under certain danger, to find and retrieve their missing comrade. I will leave it up to you what the results and circumstances are.

Thank you in advance!

Hello there, my lovely! Because you specifically stated the results/circumstances were at my discretion, I did have a bit of fun and make things difficult for the characters. These types of scenarios are not typical ones that I write often, so completing them also helps to complete my understanding of a character. The more I learn about how they would react, the more I grow.

I enjoy all types of writing and scenarios though, so please don't hesitate to ask for something else if inspiration strikes. Thank you for sharing with me!

These are Gender Neutral as you later specified.

The story will be continued under the cut. Requests are open!

“Are you crazy? There are mages back there!”

Those were the last words you uttered to your friends before rushing back onto the underground battlefield. The Blue Lions were being overwhelmed by TWSITD, pushed back far enough until Professor Byleth had deemed it optimal to retreat.

But upon your headcount just outside the facility, Felix was not among the ranks of your army.

So off you went, despite Dimitri’s direct orders for you to hang back. It felt as though you were the only one that actually cared - the only one to come to your friend’s rescue after all he had done for the Kingdom’s cause.

Off you went, running down the winding corridors, past corpses both friend and foe, all the way into the furthest room the Blue Lions had reached before being pushed back.

…yet there were no enemies standing in your way.

It was as though the seemingly limitless forces you found yourself struggling to defeat earlier had vanished into thin air. No, you knew damn well this organization was not one to be analyzed under normal circumstances. Where they met a dead end, they would blow a hole into the mountain blocking their path.

They could be admired for that; their cunning and their determination.

Unlike your friends, who seemed determined to choose inaction when a vital member of their team went awol.

Passing through a steel gate, you entered the memtallic room in the back to find a bubble of dark energy floating at its center. The structure teemed with life despite its unnatural appearance.

You approached, only to realize Felix had been trapped inside. He was floating too, but he was also…unconscious?

‘“Felix?” you called quietly, “Felix, please - can you hear me? You need to break out of there!”

What were you meant to do? To mess with a power you didn’t understand sounded like a bad idea on its own.

Not as though I have avoided such a trial by coming here to fight in the first place. Besides, I came back for Felix. I can’t return without him.

An idea sprung to mind. This bubble was made of dark magic, so you would attempt to combat it with light.

The faint glow of Nosferatu shone upon your hands as you approached the orb, “Felix, I’m going to try to get you out of there. I don’t know why they left you here all alone,” you allowed your hands to touch it, “but -”

Instantly, the bubble dissipated, the energy flowing down and underneath the Mortal Savant to set him upon the ground safely.

There was no time to celebrate or pull him toward the door. Instead, the tendril of energy swirled from beneath him into the area surrounding you. Covered before you could blink, you found yourself in a personal ecosystem with zero gravity and air taking the form of black smoke.

“Help!” you cried uselessly, a response of confusion more than a call to action.

You should have known an army unseen was at its most deadly.

The smoke suffocated you, taking away your strength though your mind felt unaffected. Thanks to the weightlessness, you were unable to even touch the energy trapping you, let alone free yourself despite your best attempt.

Your eyelids lowered, your body weakened, and your outstretched arm returned to your side before you lost all feeling to your body.

How strange it was; you could think and hear, take in the temperature surrounding you and the smoke flowing over you, but other than that, there was only emptiness.

~~~

First, he felt a tingling sensation on his whole body; the same kind he would feel when he gripped his sword too tight as a child, only all-encompassing rather than just within his hand.

Since he couldn’t reliably move his body, the only action Felix trusted himself with was opening his eyes.

He was lying on the floor. You, true to what his ears told him, had taken his place in the enchanted prison.

The numbness would fade from his body soon enough. No one else was here, from what he could hear and see anyway. The swordsman would be on his feet in a moment, so why were no mages interfering?

He could escape as soon as -

Shit.

Felix wouldn’t be escaping; he’d be abandoning the only person that came for him.

What was he meant to do? The man possessed no power to help you, no magic to set you free. If he left to go find help, there was no guarantee you’d be here upon his return.

And as though on cue, the Blue Lions rushed in through the gate moments later.

The timing felt too perfect, but he would hold off on foreshadowing curses until they revealed their true form.

“Felix, what - “ Ashe choked on his words, “...um…why are you lying on the floor.”

…can’t speak yet without the risk of biting my tongue off…

“Is he dead?” Annette worried.

“No. He breathes.”

Dedue and Mercedes filed into the room last, the healer rushing to her fallen comrade’s side.

“Oh dear, his whole body is undergoing a severe case of parasthesia.”

Just shut up and fix me before someone else injures themself.

“This won’t hurt a bit, I’ll just be a moment,” the blonde promised before setting herself to work. Graciously, she began with his head, so he could speak while she did her job.

“Thank you,” he began before emboldening his voice, “If anyone touches that thing, they’ll be encapsulated by it too. White magic seems to have some effect on it, but I haven’t gotten to learn much from inside before I befell this state.”

Annette nodded, turning toward the bubble, “Are they okay?”

“Yes. They can’t move, speak, or feel much of anything, but I promise they can hear you.”

“Got it! Hey, I’m going to try casting a spell to counteract the magic, okay?” he watched Annette call out to you before she took a few steps back. “Don’t be startled when it hits!”

Sure enough, ranged faith magic was enough to do the job. Mercedes had Felix back on his feet, and you were lying on the floor in the same position he “awakened” in.

“Good, now let’s get out of here,” Felix nodded.

Sylvain came in from outside the gate, hurriedly scanning the room, “Hey, has anyone seen the professor?”

“What do you mean has anyone seen the professor?” he snapped, “Don’t you all keep track of each other? No, actually, you don’t - a lesson I know all about after being left behind in a sphere of dark matter for ages!”

“Felix, I’m sorry,” Ingrid frowned, “we were overwhelmed, and we couldn’t see where anyone had gone. Now, we can see, and everyone is here except Professor Byleth.”

“She was right next to me when we came in…” Dimitri pondered.

But there was no more time to dwell on the matter. Some of the smoke that resembled what had been present in his bubble began to spread itself along the ground of the room.

“Get them off the floor,” the king gestured to Dedue. “Everyone, we need to evacuate, lest these villains incapacitate us all.”

“But what about Professor Byleth?” Ashe fretted.

Felix grabbed his arm before swinging him toward the door, “No time! We need to get out of here or else we’ll all meet the same fate. Nobody can help her if we die here.”

So it was that the Blue Lions retreated to Fhirdiad without their beloved mentor. You were brought back to good health, and life went on. It had to.

Though you never found the professor nor the underground hideout again, there were seldom any more troubles with TWSITD in both your and Felix’s lifetimes.

No, rather, you had doomed your bloodlines. It was not your children, but your grandchildren who would pay, fighting legions of warriors with crests that seemed to keep them from death.

But really, how could any of you have known?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marianne had a very important job.

She established herself quickly as the best healer of the Golden Deer. In any case, she was certainly the most devoted cleric.

Once someone had been brought in to see her, they would be back on the front lines in moments. It could all be attributed to her years of experience, and her extreme focus.

Focus that broke at the frantic cries coming from outside.

Concerned, Marianne rushed out of the tent only to see Alliance troops retreating from the Great Bridge of Myrrdin.

Lorenz and Leonie breezed past before Ignatz caught sight of her.

“Marianne!” he grabbed her wrist to lead her, “We need to go - we aren’t strong enough to hold the bridge!”

“Wait, but, I haven’t seen -”

“There’s no time! Come on!”

But she couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not until she knew you would be joining everyone else.

“I’m sorry, Ignatz!”

Without giving him any time to process what she had just said, Marianne ripped her arm away and tore down the hill toward the bridge. It was as difficult as swimming against the current; soldiers fleeing in the direction she was headed barely dodged her as she forced her way through.

Holding up her skirt, she was out of breath by the time she actually made it onto the bridge. A group of enemy swordsmen had seen her coming though, and thus a small force prepared to take her down upon her arrival.

A small force would not be enough to hold her back.

 Magic was a ranged weapon, and something these men could not hope to compete with as she threw blasts of light into the path she intended to take.

There you were, gravely wounded on the ground with an enemy general looming above you.

Did she want to kill you? You were bleeding out, but she never moved to finish the job. Were you to be taken prisoner then?

No, the blue-haired healer could not allow that to happen.

In her breathless state, she had attracted the attention of this enemy general. Perhaps it was for the best.

“Who the hell are you? Shouldn’t you be helping the others?”

Only after she gave Marianne a once over did the General finally seem to understand.

“Oh, I see. Your colors…you don’t belong here, do you?” the intimidating warrior approached, “So what, you’re another prisoner coming to plead for your life?”

The Golden Deer’s medic swallowed, unsure of what exactly to say.

She loosely gestured her axe back at you, “Not a bad idea. This one refused, and we’re pretty sure they know something we would really like them to share with us,” she chuckled. “Here’s an idea, maybe you could -”

“I won’t. I’m not going to do anything you say. Now get away from them.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” her axe straightened, pointing directly at Marianne’s throat, “you don’t have any power here. I am in control, and what I say goes.”

As if on cue, the groups of soldiers, knights, and other assorted warriors began to press forward on you, the general, and Marianne.

No! I didn’t come this far just to be captured!

In one last, desperate attempt to save you, Marianne allowed her magic to run through her veins once again. Only this time, she would need to take everyone down.

And with a loud cry, she did the best she could.

Casting Fimbulvetr, a wall of ice arose in front of the enemy fighters. The frozen sculpture twisted and turned about the bridge, piercing the necks or eyes of all it came across and causing more death than the woman ever would have dreamed of. Trapped motionless within the ice was none other than the general herself.

Whomever Marianne failed to reach had either frozen in shock or taken to attending to their comrades; the two of you had been blocked off by the ice barrier.

At your weak groans, she brought herself to her knees at your side.

“Please,” she worried, “promise me you’ll be alright.”

The beginnings of healing magic stretched through her wrists and into your body. She needed to move fast; who knew how much blood you had already lost.

“Marianne…you’re weak…” you coughed.

“No, no! Not as much as you’ve grown to be…”

She trailed off once you began shaking your head, “...this was reckless…you should have left me…now you’re tired and…and we’re both at risk…”

“Enough,” she breathed, stubbornly pouring more of her energy into you. Already, your color had returned, but out of her desperation, she was beginning to lose the color in her own face, “I’m done with people telling me what to do. I could never run while you were trapped here. The fact that no one was doing anything, I -”

“Marianne!”

How poetic. To die of an arrow through the heart. Had she not cared so much for you, she would never have met this fate.

~~~

You launched up, looking to the walls along the bridge for a hidden sniper.

Nothing.

At least her death was quick.

Gathering Marianne in your arms one last time, you softly pressed your lips against her forehead before reluctantly leaving her body behind.

You were so, so tired. She had healed you and restored some of your strength, but it wouldn’t be enough to set you right forever. You needed to find Lysithea.

“I’m sorry, Marianne,” you whispered.

Finally, you returned the way you saw Marianne come, walking to safety upon the path she cleared for you.

[seeingteacupsindragons]

Lmao here, have the most ridiculously broad and all-encompassing writer ask ever to distract you:

How in the hell do you make a plot?

Jk, mostly. 😅 This is more a ramble than an ask I guess. I keep tinkering with the idea of actually writing A Story, but I just. I don't know. I get so bored so fast with the process of moving characters from Point A to Point B. I just want to stick people in a room and make them talk. (Or possibly make out, depending on the scenario.) Or I want to spend thousands of words just going on and on about a character's thoughts and emotions. That all works well for oneshot fanfics, but it's awful for doing longer fics or attempting something original. I just don't know how to make characters Go Places and Do Things and Have Goals. Which like...obviously you're not going to be able to magically solve that problem for me in a single post, but...any tips to get started that don't involve falling into the inescapable dungeon of Outlining?

Plot has always been an issue for me. Many moons ago, an agent told me that my book had a great voice but nothing actually happened in it: it was like one of those narrators you'd say you'd listen to read a phone book. Except, you know. Maybe it'd be nice if it wasn't a phone book.

I've had a tendency in the past to, ah...just have a series of things happen. Which is not actually a plot. It's a katamari ball. You can't just write things happening for several thousand words and then be like "ta-da!"

Well, I mean, you can. But it sure wasn't gettin' me an agent.

I'm getting better at this, I think, and structuring stories in general. Tiadane's book was the first book I got notes back from a CP that didn't basically say "the pacing and structure of this is fucked."

(Of course, I'm changing some of that anyway, but it's more incidental to other things I'm fixing than the major concern)

That said, it usually takes me a zero draft (first draft) to really figure out what the story is about and how to take it there. Every single ending for a story I had in mind before I got there has had to be ripped out. Every. Single. One. For ever novel I've ever edited. I'm so bad at getting to an ending I envisioned, because if I actually let the characters develop and change and the world build around them and the themes come through, where I wanted them to end up and the scenes I envisioned, is never really the culmination of how to do it.

A plot is really how a story develops. For me, this is generally character-based. For some people it's the world, for some people it's the actual events.

For a character story, the plot is basically what events are the catalyst that bring them to where they're going. How do they get there, and what happens to them to push them there? How did they react, and to what?

For a world story, the plot is generally focused on unfolding events around the world. I've seen this done with characters in different areas and or characters traveling, or even just in a kind of Epicenter. The plot will be how the world is changing, or how the world is being revealed to the reader, and what that means.

For a story of events, the plot is generally encircled around how things happen, who caused them and why, and what they do when they do happen, and what else they cause to happen.

I usually have a good strong start for about 10k words, and then the plot fizzles out as the initial concept I was running with has sort of been fulfilled and something needs to happen from it.

The way this happened in Tiadane's book was that he basically jumped into a goal, he completed the steps he set out to do, but it all went very wrong. And while he managed to get out of that disaster and take a breather, he had a couple choices: he could give up, or he could try something else to accomplish the goal (and what), or he could clean up the mess he accidentally made, etc.

Each of those would have been a very different Character, obviously. But what the important part of this character story was, was that he made a choice based on who he is as a character, but that he was the one reacting and doing something. There's characters stories about passive characters who don't do much, but they're not especially common because when a character isn't making choices (or perceived not to be), it gets really hard to reveal a character and the story doesn't go anywhere.

Sure, you could keep throwing things at them. But if those Various Things That Are Happening don't feel tied to something before (the character or other events), you have a string of events, not a nicely rising tide of story.

So it's not a matter of "things happening" but "which things going to happen to them after they did that?" and "what things are they going to do now?" and "what things are going to tell you what you want readers to know about the character?"

Sub character with world or events, as necessary.

Okay NOW I'm done, for now.

[doubleddenden]

Enough time has passed that I think I can do an accurate full scale review for Indigo Disk.

My initial first impressions review of 6/10 was spot on, even with the post game mechanics and additional story.

More under the cut, beware of major spoilers

Story

What's here is fine, but flawed. It is way too short, even with the extra doodads, and not enough time and energy went into it.

Since this is a continuation of Teal Mask, I was expecting to run into some of Kieran's former bullies or to meet a certain Pokémon on his team, or at least see more instances of him being a jerk to other students, but besides a couple of instances there's not really a lot going on here to build him up.

Same with Carmine. You battle her once and that's it. I was hoping to have some kind of introspection with her, maybe she's a victim of a Mean Girls scenario and that's why she became a tad bitchy, but at best she's just worried about her brother and along for the ride.

Terapagos is supposed to be the star of the DLC- literally named The Treasure of Area Zero, but he barely had screen time besides 1 very amazing boss battle. I fear this is another anime Zygarde situation.

Briar basically did nothing besides be a little reckless. Literally if she were removed from the plot, nothing of value would have been lost. She's essentially just a red herring they through out thinking they were clever for tricking us into thinking she was the big bad or at least a bit more important, but in actuality she was just a let down all around. I can't help but feel like they had something bigger planned but scrapped it.

Not to mention the loose ends still left behind regarding Area Zero and the book. Yes I did that extra scene, and honestly it just confuses me further, so I assume we have to wait until the "epilog" is released.

Still, a half assed "paradoxes are from other timelines" was the only answer we got about how Paradox Pokémon got to Area Zero before the time machine. Not the professor or someone else bootstrap looping by sending Pokémon to the past to purposely plant seeds to ensure they come to AZ, just a very tissue paper strength answer.

We still get nothing about the mysterious symbols, the strange metals, the crystal tree, nothing is really answered and it's probably just the result of a room of writers at Game Freak patting themselves on the back and saying "we like mystery :) we did good!" Well, sorry, no you didn't.

This gives me Lost vibes and The Promised Nederland vibes. The Promised Nederland vibes in the sense they built this amazing potential in the base game- season 1 of you will- filled with mystery and intrigue, but then tried to either ignore or half ass things in Season 2- The dlc. Lost comes into play because I honestly think they had no intention of truly explaining anything and had no real clear cut end game in mind except to get people hooked. Like I'm nor asking for a Legends Paldea where we explore the depths with Heath- okay I do want that but I'm not asking right now- I would have been very, very satisfied if there were at least more journals and entries or pages that explained things. As it is now, though, it just won't happen.

And maybe I'm wrong and the epilog will fix everything and give us the answers I seek, but I sincerely doubt it.

At least what's here is passable enough. I like the BBE4 and Drayton is a loveable piece of shit. I still hate that Lacey confirms Clay fucked though. No Elesa is not her mom, that's fake info.

I miss Carmine and Kieran and hate that they're just gone as of now.

BBQ quests

Tedious. Tedious and monotonous. I don't want to play multi-player and I don't have friends with Nintendo Online and DLC to play with, nor the bandwidth. Why am I being punished for that? The quests are fine but you have to do them for several fucking hours to get anything worth it out of the deal.

Coaches

I like the idea and love all the different interactions here and there. The rematch teams are updated, too, but unfortunately remain single battles, so they're pretty easy in comparison to the rest of Indigo Disk. I did have trouble with some after changing out my party for weaker pokemon, but it was never a critical danger moment except for Hassel.

I will say, I love the implications of some of the dialog. Tulip and the school nurse are just very lesbians for Dendra, Saguro and Kofu radiate General Armstrong and Sig handshake energy, and Geeta is trying to recruit everything with a pulse to join the Elite 4.

It's this level of heart I wish they bothered to put into the base DLC.

What I hate is that it costs so much to rotate them around to get gold borders. It's necessary to do something special apparently- but btw the last 3 slots are story locked until the Epilog drops. Yaya future content, boo withholding content.

Oh and they fixed Geeta's team. Her new ace is actually terrifying.

New Pokémon

Fantastic all around. Archaludon is fun af to use, Hydrapplin fixes what I dislike about Dipplin, the paradoxes are all neat, Terapagos's Stellar form is beautiful and powerful as hell, great all around.

Music

I think we're in Sonic territory where the quality of games goes down but the music just keeps getting better and better. No flaws, love the Unova love! It even fixes Ed Sheeran's Celestial imo- a song kinda shoved in that has nothing to do with Pokémon except maybe to trigger content flags on YouTube.

The remix by Toby Fox actually has elements of music from Scarlet and Violet, it's chill overall, and the lyrics actually sort of kinda have context now? Rinse and Repeat makes it sound relevant to the cycles of bullying and the paradox plots as a whole, and Kieran's spiral actually fits it. Overall a vast improvement.

Difficulty

Guys, it is refreshingly difficult. It's like a dip into Colosseum again with the strategies the BBE4 uses. Drayton actually beat me TWICE. I NEVER lose. The rest were easier, but still required a bit more thinking than "press A to win."

The only downside is that it is sort of a snowball effect. Initially it might be difficult to overcome, but you will gain levels very quickly, which of course diminishes challenge. I'm not joking when I say that the team I went in with, roughly late 60s to 70 by the time I caught them all, are now ALL level 100, which is the quickest I've ever gotten a completely fresh team to it.

Customization

I said it before but it's just lacking. The new uniforms look better than most of the others, come in more varieties, and I'll be honest? Feel less fetishy in the l*li and sh*ta direction. I'm still not completely satisfied but I can make it work. New hair still sucks but I do like the new Star glasses and uniform.

I'm just going to say it though, this was definitely a way to cut corners on customization and they should just let us dress how we want again. Too much limitation makes me look like everyone else playing the game. It was dumb but excusable this time, but it won't fly again in the future. Just saying.

Graphics and performance

Let's do it like this:

The good: graphics in some areas, when loaded in, genuinely look up to date and beautiful to look at. The tropical area, savanna, and under depths are very beautiful locations, the classrooms look extremely polished, lots of gorgeous visuals all around, and even older Pokémon have some updated visuals.

I'll also say the Terrarium is just better visually than Kitakami and Paldea.

The bad: performance still sucks ass and Nintendo, The Pokémon Company, and Game Freak should all be fucking ashamed for charging $95 for what is essentially a stuttering mess that struggles not to shit itself at times. Like the GAUL to leave in map flickering in the first cutscene meant to show you how beautiful and vast the Terarium is is astounding. Give back your Award for Excellence until you actually deserve it, you're no longer an indie company and it's time you behaved like it, Game Freak. Absolute shame on you. You've had over a year to fix this and still haven't.

World's richest franchise, people.

Overall

There's plenty to salvage here that makes it fun and engaging, but the same issues have yet to be fixed and the story just refuses to tie up some loose ends that NEEDED to be explored. It's also just CRIMINALLY short, and I actually took my time. What we got is okay but it's not the same quality of story we got for Arven or Team Star, and honestly I feel like it would have been better to save these characters for another game. They padded it out with tedious quests that just get annoying after a while and feel like a punishment, especially for single players.

While I love the idea of old style event Pokémon coming back, I hate that we have to wait to experience something that- heads up- is ALREADY IN THE GAME. That's just stupid imo and would have really helped keep things going.

So yeah, just barely passing at 6/10. Depending on the epilog, that may go between a 4 or 7.

[snailsandpuppy-dogtails]

I've seen it brought up a few times that writers writing Luke as Mexican is a negative or irritant. I think there are things to consider when looking at this, and a few things to take into consideration when trying to figure this out for the weird like me who like having a reason behind certain choices.

I try to keep in mind that a lot of fic writers and those involved in the CM fandom are young (like, yall are younger than I assumed)…and in my experience that kind of critical thinking and research doesn't happen a whole lot, hell it doesn't happen now with the current seasoned tv writers. We know zero about Luke's background besides that he grew up in New York and went to catholic school. I've said before, I defer to Adam's history when applying embellishments to Luke as a character, but technically writers (and fans) are free to apply whatever background they want until we are given actual solid information (something I don’t think we’ll actually ever get tbh).

Something else I consider is that the majority of active garvez writers/blogs that I've seen interacting in this fandom appear to be non-American. I'm unsure of how familiar people from other parts of the world are with our specific immigration patterns and culture pockets of given areas. If I'm being honest, I'm entirely unfamiliar with the immigration patterns and culture pockets within other countries as well so I can't really blame anyone for this.

Another thing to keep in mind is that fanfic is a way for people to connect with characters, it's those characters through those peoples eyes, fic writers could be applying that background simply because they identify with it most, because they are the most familiar with it, or because they associate US immigrants with Mexico (As someone from the southern portion of the west coast, this makes sense to me).

If writers are expected to go off of statistical popularity of a given group for a given location, people of Puerto Rican (1,008,909) and Dominican (935,759) descent are the two largest Latino or Hispanic populations in NY, with Mexican (469,828) identifying people making up the third largest group out of an estimated total 3,864,337 Hispanic or Latino population. It's not actually unreasonable given this to assume he could be Mexican, if you're going off of populous.

But thinking about it now, even going off of what seems to be a majority group of a given place is misguided, and I should possibly be looking into name origin (which I did for this purpose) which then led me to the prevalence of the surname "Alvez" around the world, the places it appears most often are Argentina and Uruguay, with it appearing to be Portuguese and Spanish variant of Alves. (Alves appears to originate both in Portugal and Scotland) Using that info we possibly should be applying one of those backgrounds (Argentinean, Uruguayan, or Portuguese, but given that Luke speaks Spanish probably not Portuguese) to Luke as I think that might make the most sense.

(https://forebears.io/surnames/alvez)

As an aside, though I like to research and do some google digging for my fics, some things are hard to find (like, the US has its census info online, but I'm still unsure if other countries have the same). I've tried to look up popular names for given places during certain time frames for authenticity but that shit sure doesn't come up, only current popular names come up.

Anyway. Do I agree that fic writers should try to branch out from the "brown man is Mexican" thing? Absolutely. Do we have any evidence Luke is not Mexican? Not really, no more than we do to say he's anything else (The surname is also found in Mexico btw, just as much as it's found in Peru, but less than it's found in France). But honestly, I don't think I've read a fic that outright states he's Mexican except for possibly once. I think I've seen it brought up as an argument or headcannon more than I've seen it in fics, so w/e. Just some stats for people I guess. What I've personally learned is that 1 in 3.5 million people in Puerto Rico are named Alvez and an even smaller 1 in 11 million people are Alvez in Cuba, so while I'm still gonna stick with it for my fics and Adam, it is a very small grouping.

[sarah-nonaginta-novem]

Ego Sum Non Infirma: Chapter 1 Part 7

“My God, Jonathan, I can't believe what I'm hearing from you. This is a serious matter we're discussing! Twisting the mind of a person who's gone through such a traumatic experience! Even for a person like yourself, this is beyond the pale. How can you possibly understand what Jason went through?” Jeremiah asked. Something changed within me the second I heard Jeremiah's question. I could no longer keep my emotions in check. I kept my tone of voice relatively monotone up to this point. My words seethed with resentment, “How can I possibly understand what Jason went through?! Really?! Do you want to go there, Jeremiah?! Do you remember Lyle Bolton, Arkham's previous head of security? Of course, you do! Everyone does! Unless you have gone senile! I was nearly beaten to death by Lyle Bolton on your watch! I fought against death for over six months while I recovered in Arkham's Medical Facility! During one of Jason's sessions, I confided in him about my near-death experience! Come to find out, Jason was beaten the same way by The Joker right before a bomb explosion! Not only did I tell Jason about Lyle Bolton, I also described to Jason how much of a living hell your precious asylum ‐” Jeremiah interrupted before I could finish, “You know what Jonathan? I'm officially fed up with you. I've heard enough of your nonsense.” When I thought about what just happened, I was taken aback. Fuck… what have I done? I never had a flare-up in front of Jeremiah, or any other staff in Arkham for that matter, before. I felt a sense of shame, because of my blunder. I had everything under control, but lost it. Has my relationship with Jason affected me so much that I am incapable of controlling myself? I hung my head low. Jeremiah harshly wrote down more notes. At least I still managed to infuriate Jeremiah. “Jonathan, this will be your last therapy session at The Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane. Right before this session, I and the other Doctors had a long discussion about you. We all came to the conclusion you are a lost cause. A complete waste of our time. Twelve years have passed, and you've shown zero signs of recovery. Quite the opposite. Not just your psychological condition, but your physical condition is worse than ever. Look at yourself! The constant exposure of your fear toxin has changed your appearance. You don't have a single strand of hair on your body. Your obsession with fear has turned you into a madman! You'll end up suffering the same fate as many other Arkham patients. Locked away for the rest of your life until the day you die.” Jeremiah announced as he slammed my profile shut. I now felt a sense of relief after I heard I no longer had to deal with Jeremiah's ridiculous therapy. If this was my last session, I refused to sit back and allow Jeremiah to have the last word. I curled my lips one last time. “Just like Great Uncle Amadeus…” I mocked. Jeremiah's face darkened, and he shouted at the top of his lungs, “GUARDS!”

The Guards escorted me out of Jeremiah's session room, and took me to the Arkham Library. The Arkham Library, my personal haven. Even though the library was located at the asylum, I still cherished it. The library was chock-full of so many aged rare leather-bound books, with gold gilded pages, the public have not seen for over a century. If I had my way, I would have brought them all home years ago. These books did not deserve to be imprisoned here. I am surprised Jeremiah to this day has me sent to the library every afternoon, considering it was my only comfort within the asylum's walls. The only logical conclusion I could come up with was that the library was safer than the communal area. Obviously, safer for everyone else, not myself. The communal area used to be my playground. I could not remember the last time I was escorted to Arkham's Communal Area. Because they avoided destroying the aged Gothic architecture, like The Arkham Mansion, as much as possible there were no security cameras wired up in the library. Many past Arkham employees, Lyle Bolton included, pushed for camera installation but none of it came to fruition. I never took advantage of the situation, because I knew I would be giving Jeremiah ammo to prohibit me from entering the library. As long as I was not caught committing anything excessively terrible, by Arkham standards, Jeremiah did not have any legal right to have me sent to solitary confinement. Much to Jeremiah's annoyance, I was sure of it. I brushed my fingers along the books on the shelves until I found the one I left off yesterday. The book I began to read was a worn-down, barely recognizable edition of Howard Phillips Lovecraft's Necronomicon. Very fitting, most people, including myself, would say. I have already reread all of Lovecraft's works including fiction, nonfiction, poetry, et cetera, over and over again. However, I will never get tired of them. Lovecraft used to visit Arkham Asylum often while he wrote about men who went mad after they learned the forbidden knowledge, or survived an experience beyond their comprehension. This asylum inspired Lovecraft so much that he created his own fictional asylum, plus a town, and named the two after it. Perhaps Jeremiah was right? Have I become one of these madmen straight out of Lovecraft's stories?

[starrynighttime]

Tangled Ribbons Sequel Concept: Tied Ribbons

Original fic by @sadrien

(demistories on AO3)

Full concept under the cut (Spoiler Warning for OG fic)

Chloe had many regrets, but losing her best friend was on the top of the list.

His words still rang in her ears 8 months later, and they only rang louder now that they were all in the same class again.

Marinette’s more than us. She’s better than us.

I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t want anything from you. I want the Chloe I used to be best friends with, but I don’t think she exists anymore.

She stretches herself out on the barre as Tikki and Plagg spoke to everyone in the background.

Chloe couldn’t hear them. All she could focus on was Marinette and Adrien, giggling quietly and nudging each other when the teachers got close.

She knew that they were dating. It was clear as day to her how close they had gotten over break.

In fact, Chloe had never seen Adrien so happy.

She wanted to be happy for him, she really did, but she couldn’t.

Not when they were barely friends anymore.

He didn’t even tell her.

Chloe sighed and leaned her forehead against the barre. She knew he had no reason to even want to be in contact with her again, but the distance between them still hurt.

And now… well, now, Marinette was roommates with Adrien and Chloe was stuck with an overconfident new girl who had zero talent.

Yippee.

(At least Marinette knew she barely had talent last semester and tried to be better. Lila made empty boasts and constantly wore perfume that stunk up the studio and gave Chloe migraines.)

Honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to be mad at her situation. It was her fault after all.

If she didn’t destroy Marinette’s shoes last year, she wouldn’t have gotten so close with Adrien, and he wouldn’t have fought so hard to be her roommate this semester.

Sure, Chloe had apologized to Marinette, but she doubted that Marinette would ever-

“-loe? Chloe!” Tikki’s voice snapped Chloe out of her train of thought. “Is everything okay?”

Chloe heard Lila snicker in the background and fought back the urge to scream.

“I’m fine, Tikki.” She forced out. “I just… have a lot on my mind”

Chloe pretended to not notice as Tikki looked at her with concern before returning to the lesson.

~~~~~

When class was over, everyone started filing out.

Chloe was going through her bag in a shadowy corner of the sitting area when Adrien and Marinette came in.

“Do you think it’ll work?” She heard him ask. Marinette snorted.

“Maybe not, but I am so sick of Nino and Alya being into each other and doing nothing about it.” Marinette grumbled. Adrien chuckled, then went silent.

“…is this how they felt?”

At his words, Chloe saw Marinette blanche.

“Oh my god, I’ve turned into the very thing I’ve sworn to never become.” Marinette groaned. Adrien smiled at her.

“You know I love you just the same.” He said, putting his hand on her shoulder and pulling her towards him. Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes.

“I love you too, you dork.”

They kissed, and Chloe’s vision blurred. She swallowed back a sob and waited for Marinette and Adrien to leave before sinking down onto the floor.

Chloe never cried. She didn’t cry when Adrien left her, she didn’t cry when her mom moved to New York, and she sure as hell wasn’t about to cry now.

But seeing them together, hearing them say that they loved each other so casually as if they said it every single day was too much for her to bear.

She didn’t bother putting her shoes on. She just shoved them back into her bag and walked out of the studio barefoot, slamming the door shut behind her.

[the-beskar-alchemist]

Episode 2 thoughts

Here we go with more of my ramblings!

(Also just a reminder, I’m including game canon information so heads up if you need to bypass this post to avoid spoilers)

Thoughts below the cut....

It appears they’re making Indonesia “Ground Zero”, I don’t know if this is a result of Indonesia having a surge of fungal infections within the last few years, or if their environment would be considered potentially hospitable for the cordyceps. There’s also the fact that in-game the cordyceps seemingly started in the U.S. before spreading worldwide.

I’m not quite understanding the physiology behind the mouth tentacles thing, but I’ve seen enough hentai that it’s creepy either way

There’s a running theme of butterflies surrounding the girls (Sarah and Ellie)

Ellie’s sarcasm is on-point again, Bella really did bring our precious babygirl to life on a level that makes me so happy

I have to wonder about Pedro having to do things like move furniture, considering his poor back

So not anything significant, but I really appreciate that the leaning building from the game was incorporated into the background shot. A little sad that they didn’t show them going through that building like in the game, but I guess it would’ve been an issue of set design costs/extra film time.

Ellie actively avoiding mentioning Riley (“Matter of fact, let’s just keep our histories to ourselves” ~ Joel in the game), so that figures

Okay they moved up the hotel scene where Ellie pretends to be checking in, originally this took place in Pittsburgh at a later point in the summer, not Boston. And it was AFTER the thing with Tess.

Joel and Ellie’s awkward conversation-turned-moment of bonding, and her asking about Joel/Tess? Joel shot that shit down so quick lol

So they’re basically saying that the infected only last for 2-months, but they’re still some that last for years. This sounds like the infection not only deteriorates the brain but maybe the body temperature is so high for so long that the body eventually burns out….?

The infected have a connection, kind of like the hive-mind situation in Stranger Things. In-game the infected would just spawn out of nowhere even if an area looks clear (it’s a game so that’s a normal thing), it seems that this was their way of bridging the gap of how a clear spot would suddenly become overrun. Games like TLOU and Left 4 Dead had what they call “event doors”, or pathways that when taken would suddenly trigger hordes

Clickers!!!! But seriously they did a good job with the acting during this scene, I’m wondering if they did a “zombie school” type thing, kind of like TWD.

“You can’t deny that view” - so glad they kept this, it’s such an important moment for Ellie because of [redacted]

So Tess name-dropping Frank is interesting, unless in-game Tess knew about Frank and just didn’t tell Joel (HIGHLY unlikely), because in-game Joel doesn’t even know Frank exists, let alone have any contact with him specifically

Annie Wersching does a really good job of capturing Tess’ nuances, and the part where she’s foreshadowing her infection by acting defensive? Love it

Tess/Joel’s relationship being kind of one-sided isn’t much of a surprise. I’d imagine Joel prefers not to get romantically close to people because of past trauma

So the hive-mind connections trigger a horde, forcing Tess to sacrifice herself. In the game the military shows up and she holds them off while Joel/Ellie escape through the capitol building. To me the horde makes more sense because I never quite understood why the military suddenly went on a field trip outside of the QZ to coordinate an attack on a couple runaways when they could easily have left them to their fate with the infected and not waste time/supplies (same thing applies if they were going after the Fireflies outside of the QZ)

I’m enjoying the unfocused camera shots of the infected, it helps to leave some things to the imagination and makes it more scary/intense

The mouth-tentacles “kiss of death” thing is weird. It’s like the infected are coherent enough to want to actively spread the infection instead of just eating people. I’m also getting the impression that, kind of like in World War Z, they can sense when someone else is infected.

Definitely enjoyed this episode, the acting was really good and the story is moving a bit faster now. Still a lot of ground to cover because of [redacted]

Endure and survive!