#you would not believe the amount of mishearings back then

[knightcallie]

Baldur's Bounties: Language Learning

Language was something everyone shared and learned over their lifetime, and it came in many forms. Even a common language can have hundreds and thousands of different dialects. Weichei didn't realize his was so different than Faerûn's and forgets he wasn't with his typical party.

Weichei didn’t think it would’ve been a problem. He really, really didn’t think it would be one. All the gazes were questioning, his own lips parted and hands wondering how to sign next.

“Is, Is my Elvish that different?” he queried, signed.

Astarion’s gaze squinted, posture leaning towards one side. “Well— It’s still recognizable, but it’s more—” His coiffed head bobbled, trying to place it. “Sing-songy?” he offered, “Definitely different enough that I could notice darling.” His ruby eyes briefly glanced down at the drow’s hands.

Periwinkle eyes glance up briefly, before bobbling in self-affirmation. “Ruben does take on a more musical take on languages,” he recalled, “Kinda. Thought elvish in general sounds more sing-songy? To non-elves at least.”

Shadowheart lifted her chin a bit, brows furrowed a tad. “A bit, but I suppose it depends where you reside.” Her arms folded across her chest. “But you definitely don’t sound like a Faerûn native.”

There’s the unspoken ‘don’t look like one either’, but Wyll does note, “Or perhaps he’s from a part of Faerûn none of us been to. Northeast perhaps?”

The drow shook his head. “Fenim actually,” he replied, “Rubenschaun, Fenim. I’m not too sure how far exactly it is to Faerûn, but…” The forestline, he wondered how Beau was faring. “Far enough.”

It led to lots more questions about where he came from, what’s it like over there, the languages. Gale was particularly eager, and Weichei happily answered. Eres’ blessing burned pleasantly against his skin, patiently passionate. There’s talk about the possibility of using sign and signals in their repertoire, just to make communication easier on the battlefield. But, it will take teaching, and Weichei does have to think about what were the easier signs and signals to teach and see on the battlefield.

Though somehow, it did relax him enough to use a language he only really used for people he’s close to. He was sitting by Halsin, absentmindedly listening to the campfire talk during dinner. At some point, he must’ve reached for his hand, signing what the other’s were talking about, noting each speaker with a specific letter. He doesn’t really notice the eyes, until Lae’zel spoke up.

“What are you signing? Are you hiding something from us?” 

Her harsh voice broke through his lull, his eyes blinking owlishly. Periwinkle eyes looked around, before landing on the large wood elf. A smile was received when it landed on him, before Weichei returned his gaze to the audience. “Uh—”

“Oh, telling some saucy secrets are we?” Astarion grinned, a suggestive smirk on his lips. “Care to share with the class darling?”

“If it helps,” Halsin started, “I do not know this code you’ve been signing on my hand, so I’m afraid there’s no secrets to be had,” he chuckled.

Karlach then piped with a groan, “Don’t tell me this is another thing we gotta learn, I’ve only got so much space to spare in this noggin’!”

At this point, Weichei had returned his hands to his chest before smiling sheepishly. “No, no— This was just something when I was still in my early years in bounty hunting.” He tucked a loc behind his ear. “Having cannons blow off so often does something to your hearing.” He tapped at his earrings, an enchanted gift from his closest friends and family. “Lorm just makes it easier to keep me in the loop or just have less misunderstandings.” He looked off into the distance with an amused look on his face, a memory surfacing. “I’m so glad I was safe from being eaten for dinner.”

[xiofuu]

where you actively try to deny your love for the general as he chases for it.

art is by @/tecchen on twt | part one (?)

Where did this even start? When was it that your heart had decided to go against you and fall in love with the General?

No matter how many times you tried to tell yourself that this was just work, that you two were to be strictly work partners, your heart still yearned for more, wishing to be held with his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as the both of you nap in the warmth that fell through the window and onto you both.

You shake your head at the thought, your face growing warmer as your heart betrays you more and more each day as General Jing Yuan's attendant, wandering through the Exalting Sanctum as you take a break from the endless amount of work, the moon high in the sky as a navy blue blanket is cast upon the island, highlighted with soft pinks in the sky as each building shines with their lanterns, the stone path shining a soft yellow with each step you take as you step onto the wooden boards of the elevated ground, their dark hues affected with light blue as you find an empty bench to sit on, your eyes wandering as you take in the calming feel of the night.

A soft sigh leaves your lips, your heart still pounding at the thought of the lazy General as you lean back against the bench, looking up at the night sky, stars crossing the sky as you think once more, your mind focused on too many things at once.

You couldn't love him. There wasn't a way for a work relationship such as yours to work out, you believed. From him being a General and being too busy with work (or so you excused) to you being his simple attendant, only there to work alongside him on his stacking paperwork as he makes plans for other things, his small smile of apology etched into your heart as your heart pounds again.

Though, maybe it wasn't even just that. You two had so much of your lives to live, that is what the curse of the Abundance gave. So what would make him choose you to stay with?

You sigh to yourself once more, trying to push these things down as you ignore the dull ache in your heart, thinking of the events that happened within just the last week.

It started with ignoring his messages. Watching as his messages change from a business-like tone and shifting into a more flirty one before you turn off your phone, silencing it as your ignore your warming face and your heart that thumped and bumped into the painful vines of hopelessness that had grown around your heart.

Then it was the calls. The ones where he would call to tell you to gather information before coming to his office, his voice softer, him barely grumbling into the phone as you can hear that he has just woken up. Aeons, you fell hard for this man.

Afterward, it was patching up his wounds. You knew it wasn't your job, it just...was too tempting for you. Your hands softly brushing against his bare muscular arm as you wrap the bandage around it, trying your best to ignore his eyes staring at you as your touch enchants him.

Even through all of that, it led to more and more and more, leaving your heart sore from just a day's work together. His unnecessary comments of you being beautiful, his teasing of your work habits, his soft smile, his sleeping figure, his everything!

So, you opted for the easy route.

"Ignoring" his messages, "missing" his calls, "mishearing" him, and it even got to the point where you had almost told him that you'd call another woman for him. Another woman to play with just as he had been doing to you this whole time so that you could let yourself drown in the paperwork, drown in this endless pit of sorrow as your tears of heartache filled the void within your heart you wished he could fill.

But of course, this was work. He only used to fool around years ago (you hope).

Your phone buzzes, shaking you out of your thoughts as it vibrates against your hand as you look toward it, finding that it's another message from Jing Yuan.

"Can you bring us more tea when you come back?" It said, a sigh falling through your lips as you click your phone off again, standing and stretching your arms above your head as you make your way back, knowing that he had too much tea within his office already and this was just a silly message to get you to come back.

There was nothing more you could simply do out here so far in the night as you make your way back, getting in the starskiff to start making your way to his office, dreading the long long hours your heart would beat with love and shake with heartbreak.

[thrillingdetectivetales]

This is a total long shot, but I'm looking for a series of Harringrove fics that appears to have been taken off AO3. The series is at least two fics, but may be more (I can't fully recall) and I think both parts were fairly long. I don't remember the titles of the individual stories or the series or the author, because my brain is a sieve, but I put a quick rundown of what plot/details I remember under a read more below. If anybody either has a download of this fic, knows where I can get one, or remembers the author/titles so I can try my hand with the Wayback Machine, I would really appreciate it. (Spoilers ahead, obviously, and caveat that there's a chance I may be misremembering some of these from other Harringrove fic I've read):

Billy meets Eleven fairly early on, and I believe that at first he mishears her name as Ellen, but he eventually moves into calling her Elijane. Later on, toward the end of the first story/beginning of the second, he runs into Eleven (on her way to Chicago/to find her mom, maybe?) and offers to take her because he needs to get out of town to clear his head after a fight with Steve (detailed later). Their car gets run off the road and they get kidnapped by lab people.

Midwayish through the first story, I want to say, Hopper or someone intervenes on behalf of Billy with Neil and he winds up in his own apartment. He buys a couch or a whole set of furniture or something that's red.

Billy and Steve have their first kiss after they get into an altercation with Tommy and either some of his friends or maybe cousins, where they're walking down the street and Tommy throws a beer can at them. They throw it back and hit Tommy in the face or something and then go running. They end up in an alley together late at night hiding and that's where they have their first kiss.

Billy catches Steve wearing glasses he doesn't normally wear in public and Steve gets super self-conscious about it at first. He also has two german shepherds named Luke and Leia. When Billy first meets them, while Steve is out walking them near the garage where Billy works, he plays with them and asks "Are you a puppy?"

At one point, Lucas sees Steve and Billy together before they're out, and Billy goes full rage mode on him like an asshole. Steve gets big mad for obvious reasons and they sort of separate until Billy apologizes and gets his shit together. He does eventually go to apologize to Lucas, after which he goes to apologize to Steve. Steve is hanging out at his place with Nancy, because he needs to talk to someone about stuff with Billy, and Billy mistakenly deduces that they're together. This is why he's driving along and sees El on her way to wherever she's going before they get kidnapped.

When Steve and Billy try to have penetrative sex the first time, it isn't very good. I believe because they'd been drinking and having a celebration of sometime and don't communicate well. They try again a second time and it goes way better.

Steve calls Billy "Bill" a fair amount and the author, while writing in Billy's voice, describes the kids as yapping pretty frequently. They also tend to write, 'says, "Ha ha ha!"' instead of 'laughs' which I thought was very endearing and delightful.

I don't remember the specific wording but at one point there's a bit that's sort of like, "Steve is a bitch but fuck yeah that's Billy's bitch."

I know it's not a ton to go on but I'm getting back into Stranger Things fandom recently and was so devastated the other day when I trolled through as many posted Harringrove fic over 80k as I could and didn't see it anywhere.

Any help is appreciated! Feel free to shoot me a DM here on Tumblr/reply to this post. I don't usually see Tumblr messages but you can give that a shot too. Otherwise I'm on Discord as thrillingdetectivetales, too, and you can message me there as well.

Thanks in advance for any assistance!!

[searidings]

....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !

hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:

1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril

2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3

-

The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.

The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.

If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.

It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.

What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.

Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.

Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.

Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.

“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.

“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.

Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.

Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.

-

For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.

Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.

For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.

Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.

“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”

The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.

“Her veins were green, Alex.”

An eternity passes.

She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.

Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.

“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”

Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.

A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.

But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.

-

Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.

She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.

“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”

Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.

And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.

-

When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.

When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.

When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.

But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”

Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.

When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”

The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.

Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.

Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.

The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.

It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.

Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”

A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.

But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.

Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.

The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.

When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.

“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”

Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.

[magicpumpkin3]

hey you i see your req are open ? if you have time , can you write about reader ( female or gender natural ) who always act cold and strong in front of other but one day the dorm leader see her crying in the sleep . they like having a nightmares about the dorm leader leaving them and sleep talk about begging them to stay ?

i am sorry if this is too long .

Note: I went through seven stages of grief while writing this. And the crazy part, I have no idea why! (Prob BC of the art/writing block).

Note№2: I sincerely apologize for the delay. But at last, most of my finals are over and I hope my will to live and create will return (and NOT at 3 AM!)

Riddle Rosehearts

He honestly didn't know you fell asleep. You were staying in his room, listening to him, rambling about his dorm members not understanding the importance of rules.

He stopped rambling as soon as you let out a small sob. Slowly turning his head towards you, to make sure he didn't mishear it, Riddle looks at you. Another sob leaves you followed shortly by a hitched inhale. He's momentarily at your side. Riddle isn't quite sure what to do. He knows for sure, he needs to wake you up. While he attempts to do so, you start crying even more, particular shacking from the amount of tears.

Riddle stills when he hears you call out for him. Never have he ever imagined you, of all people calling for him. It's unusual for you to show such deep emotions to anyone so poor thing is absolutely lost at what to do again. He had similar nightmares too (not to the point of years though), so he understands your fear.

He attempts to comfort you in your sleep, since he could wake you up. Riddle hugs you and whispers reassuring things and lot's of "I'll never leave you"s. He'll never mention it to anyone but he will talk about this with you for sure.

Leona Kingscholar

It was one of the many sleepless nights for Leona. He usually listened to your heart to fall asleep faster, feeling safe and loved. Laying on top of you, using you as a pillow, it always helped.

Leona is no stranger to nightmares, quiet the opposite actually. But never did he imagen that you will have one. In front of him. There isn't a lot of people who would understand you, lucky for you, Leona is one of a few, who understand. He trys to wake you up at first, causing you to cry even more. He's panicking, he has no idea what to do. You're always so cold, calm and quiet one of the many reasons why he likes to sleep near you.

Once Leona hears your cry for him, beginning him, to stay. He stills, not believing his ears. He had similar nightmares about you, leaving him. You were always there to comfort him when those night terrors came, so he does the same for you.

He cuddles you, pat's your head, running his fingers through your hair and says probably the sweetest things you'll ever hear from him. Leona won't mention it to anyone and won't talk with you about it. He will cuddle you more and say encouraging stuff to you in private though.

Azul Ashengrotto

He was in his office, counting contracts, before heading towards his room. He couldn't leave his angelfish waiting! You and Azul made an agreement that whenever he's being late to your 'privet' date, you'd wait for him in his room.

Standing right outside the room, Azul heard faint crying. Momentarily, he enters room, normally he knocks, even though it's his room, privacy is privacy but in this situation, he had to.

Seeing you crying in your sleep, made his personal killbill siren go insane! Usually it was the other way around, you comforting him after another bad dream. So Azul did what you usually did to him, try to wake you up and comfort you.

You let out another cry but with his name. Poor Azul was afraid you were having nightmare about him, hurting you. He was about to push away, when you weekly grabbed onto his arm and pleaded to stay with you, still asleep.

Azul stayed by your side whole night, not daring to fall asleep. Not like he could. Whispering words of love and reassurance, cuddling you, with his whole being, Azul silently cried with you, feeling your pain, like no one else. He won't say a word to anyone but he will talk about your fears and insecurities.

Kalim Al-Asim

He just returned from one of his night flys. Usually he just flys on his carpet whenever he couldn't sleep, thais was one of those nights. As soon as you entered Kalim's room and sat down on his bed, you fell asleep, due to up coming exams. Sunshine boy truly tried to fall asleep with you but he couldn't.

So imagen his suprise, when he heard your crys. You! The ice majesty you! You were like that comical 'polar opposites' couple. If anything, it was most likely him being the crying one then you!

Poor Kalim was panicking half of the time! He was about to call Jamil for help (since vice dorm leader always helped him to calm down in saddest moments) but then he heard your crys for him. You, the always cool and calm, you were calling for him???

Kalim wouldn't even try to wake you up in fear of scaring you even more, instead he'd attempt to comfort you through your sleep. Hugging, cuddling you, pressing gentle kisses here and there. He'd try to stay awake the whole night but unfortunately he falls asleep embracing you. In the morning he's very tempted to ask others for advice but Kalim understands, that it's too personal. He'll be a bit awkward about it (he doesn't know how to approach you when it comes to emotions) but he will talk with you about your nightmares.

Vil Schoenheit

Normally he was the one to fall asleep first but oh well. You did look horribly tired this whole day. Schoenheit was in a good mood, so he decided to have a beauty sleep with you (aka go to sleep at 9 pm).

He was about to fell asleep but was shacken back to the reality with your sobs. At first, he thought it was just his sleepy mind and imagination but when you started to toss around the bed and cry even more aggressively. Vil would usually just knocked some sense into you, to not ruin his beauty sleep but it's not the case.

He isn't the best guy if you need comfort. Especially if he's used to you being cold and calm on the outside (like him). So Vil is really confused on what to do. Logically he'd try to wake you up first and if that fails, he'd still be lost for a good fee seconds. Don't be mad at him, please, he trys his best. Vil would try to hug you and keep you in place, so you wouldn't accidentally hurt yourself, try to calm you, by saying stuff like 'it's okay', 'let it out' and 'sh…I'm here for you'.

When he first heard you cry for him, Vil like Azul thought, he was the cause of your tears. He was about to start to think some really depressing things but then you begged for him to stay. It's like something snapped in him. Vil never thought that you'd be that attached to him. He'd be more 'aggresive' in his calming attempts. More 'I love you's and 'I won't ever leave you's, tightening his embrace and all. He wouldn't talk to anyone about it and he would be hesitant to talk to you about it too. Since he's also an 'ice queen' he tried to think how'd that go through his point of view. But in the end you'd still discussed it.

Idia Shroud

You both were chillaxing in his room. Idia was having one of those long night gaming marathon/sessions and you accidentally fell asleep on his bed. Idia doesn't mind though, he understands that you're probably tired and his bed is comfy!

Before long, he was at max level fighting with the boss and he was about to disintegrate that worthless being- Wait, did he hear it correct? Pushing pause, Idia pushed his headphones a bit. Yep, that was someone crying. Hold on... IT'S JUST YOU AND HIM HERE!!! Remember, I told you about killbill siren in Azul's head? Now THIS is a killbill siren. Idia is panicking his shit out and has no actual idea what to do! His anxiety level has never been so high.

Usually he was the one having nightmares (if you were lucky to catch him asleep) in your couple, so if something you or Ortho were the one to comfort him. Poor Idia, he was on the verge of tears from the panic. He was about to call Ortho for help when he heard your cry for him, his name being chocked out from your trembling body. Hesitant, he would try to wake you up (And miserably failed). Idia will mostly say reassuring words and won't do much physical contact since he's afraid of scaring you even more. He really is worried, don't get me wrong! After that, he would only ask Ortho for the advice (or internet in anon mode). He doesn't want to mess up things even more so he'll be shy asking you about it. You and him will still talk at some point though.

Malleus Draconia

Fae's sleeping schedule is a... wierd thing but it is what it is. Usually Malleus just watches you sleep instead of sleeping himself. So here you were in bed next to him, sleeping peacefully, while Draconia watched you like a hawk.

So when your face started to show the slightest hints of discomfort, he noticed it. And from that moment on, his 'protecting' instincts were acting up. He didn't risk waking you up right away but he git closer to your sleeping form non-theless. He was monitoring everything, starting with what expression does your face makes and ending with your heart beat.

When you let out your first shaky sob, Malleus felt like there's a crack in the floor and it's getting bigger. He had no idea what to do. While he was spacing out and silently panicking, you started to cry even harder. Poor baby, was scared to do anything! He tried to wake you up but you just started crying even harder! Malleus got a heart attack when you cried his name out. Like Azul he thought, he was the reason of your nightmare. The only thought about it made him go to the verge of tears. Malleus was brought back to the reality by you, pleading for him to stay. Mal mal would hug you, whisper promises of being with you forever and try to slowly rock you like a baby to ease your bad dream. He won't mention it to anyone and won't talk with about it. But if it happens again, he'll decently confront you about your nightmares.

[olde-scratch]

So I watched LUCIDS 1-4 without any prior knowledge...

and here were my thoughts. I didn’t watch any backstory or anything so enjoy my suffering.

PART 1

“So what happens when the people inside of their dreams go to sleep?” They die

“What happens when we wake up? Do they go on living while we’re not there?” THEY DIE-

“Who are they anyway?” they’re faces that our brain catalogs and stores for later use, although it’s also arguable that every time we dream we go to an alternate reality and inhabit the body of another version of ourselves. Now, were you in a car accident and trapped underwater or-

Are they twins?

(Me tuning out to do something)

“-the squirrel in spongebob was your soulmate, making you a Sandy simp-”

Me, snapping back to the video: hold up-

[missed the part about the worksheet, realized it when i rewatched 10 mins later to make this post]

yall speakin gibberish idk what youre saying-

“I’m gonna go to bed.” bro it literally looks like morning-

“You should get some sleep you look terrible.” i get six hours of sleep a night minimum and i look worse than him shut up bro-

“jump into someone else’s dream” ah i know this con-

why they all got the same face-

haha funni meme

“--an interruptiion can create feedback and tear them apart.” Death. I long for thee.

Is that Karl Jacob’s jacket?

“a second grader” makes me think this is a different school system. [i was wrong? i think?]

“[get him to] eat your apple”

[in the dream sequence] weird dream, but ive had weirder. now, Why Pamper’s-

why does he suddenly have a knife-

“You put a filter on the Dreamscape feed?”

“Technically, you are seven years old.”

???????????

the second hand embarrassment is UGGGHHH

[reading the description] you mean like the guy who was knocked out for 2 minutes on a football field and woke to find he’d dreamt 17 years of his life? oh this shall be Fun

PART 2

[I check the description] “jasper cult” what the fu-

how many camp camp references can i make during this

Is the apple a reference to religion or does the creator just really ilke apples?

“meal.”

“meal?”

meal????

Wait why couldn’t that guy eat the apple? If he wanted it in the fruit bowl, wouldn’t there be a chance of the guy eating it anyways?? Why can’t the guy who brought the apple eat it?

well he’s Dead

[debating if I should read the backstory}

n a h h h h h -

Was he gonna feed the dead guy the apple or something? Why is he upset about the apple in this scene???

oooo the grownups are fightinnnngggg

Is he an antagonist?

HE WROTE A BOOK???

oh now i want food

ESTABLISH JUSTICE ENSURE DOMESTIC TRANQUILITYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“I watched all those aforementioned shows” what shows did i miss something what-

man why you gotta hate on her jane austen fanfic let her live bro

string theory! i can get behind that! sorta-

o no he found the memes-

BOY GOT KNOCKED OUT-

kim there’s people that are dying-

is SHE an antagonist?

quinn? calling himself jasper? u sure hes not just nonbinary? is this just a metaphor for transphobic parenting?

“He died... but somewhere, he grew up.” So is your plan to take a Quinn from a different universe and make him your own, thereby robbing another version of yourself from happiness? When does this ever go well?

Yknow most people, when they lose a kid,,,, kinda,,,,,,, dont go on a ceaseless quest to find another version of their kid that grew up without knowing that another version of his mother was invading other peoples’ dreams to find and kidnap him,,,,,,,, like aint u got a therapist-

“Once you get past the point of not knowing what’s real anymore, you realize it doesn’t matter.” Well, I Got Called Out-

PART 3

“you’re real, oliver.”

aRe yOu sUrE aBoUt tHaT-

“you’ve been infected by the anti-love parasite of Mandadon” the amatonormativity is strong

so anyways ive been infected since birth hbu-

“James Jasperson, creator of Japple” did you mean to Fancy Well-Educated Man in a Black Turtleneck? cause the only FWEMBT i allow near me is prof. hidgens

“are you winning?” says the capitalist

why did you rewind to see his face?? you have the same face????? is this just bc the creator doesnt like working with other people cause in that case same but???????

“it’s a bad idea. i’m not gonna do it.” we’ve all been there. and we’ve all done it.

looks like me trying to study. (i say, a person who has studied a total of five minutes throughout their entire life.)

your “Spartan trial” looks like a bunch of guys standing on a hill pretending to be something they’re not. Let The Man Bring His Snacks.

eat the apple.

is this your first existential crisis or something what a loser lets all point and laugh

“One of you should be spared, the other shall’nt.” did you mean shant or was that a choice-

yall gonna get called out for talking shut UP

“sorry if this is too personal, btw. are you okay?”

me, confused and half understanding what’s going on and also needing to sleep cause its almost one in the morning but wanting to finish what i can find of lucids which i only starting watching cause i saw an animatic of ranboo and dream w audio from it: i don’t know anymore

“i just want my life back... i was gonna get married-” AREN’T YOU LIKE SEVEN-

ay man if this is a sacrificial cult yall gotta get daniel-

UPDATE: I  H A V E  N O T  F O U N D  I T -

“oliver”

I  F O U N D   I  T -

WHICH ONE IS QUINN?? WHO’S JASPER???? WHICH ONE IS BENJAMIN???? I THOUGH BENJAMIN WAS SEVEN BUT I THOUGHT HE WAS THE ONE GETTING MARRIED WHAT-

oliver. eat the apple.

“Can you still have memories even when you’re dreaming?” One time I woke up to my alarm and fell back asleep and in my dream I remembered that I had class in a few minutes and my dream self woke my real self up so fast I thought I was gonna get whiplash. Anyways, I was late to class bc of my computer but that doesn’t matter.

NOPE I FOUND IT. HERE’S THE AUDIO. THE ANIMATIC ONE. FINALLY.

im thinking car crash. but also maybe murder. but also maybe both? is it raining or was he drowning? is he in a coma? hmmmmmm?

wait olivers the one with the apple does that mean he’s the one dreaming? is the ending gonna be him and jasper (quinn? idk) fighting against ben and mrs hills about jasper eating the apple to save oliver from the dream? hmmmmmmmmmm-

waitwaitwait i thought oliver was 7 how is benjamin 7 years younger than him if they look the same age what what what explain america explain what you mean arkansaw-

are the cuts on his nose plot-relevant or

“What if you hadn’t been driving?” So I was right about the car accident but Mrs. Hills still said he was seven so did i mishear her say that BENJAMIN was seven? but even then oliver would be 14 and that would still be illegal-

“How are you feeling?”

“Like you’re a pretty bad therapist.”

mood

“--it makes it all bearable to have power over the stories we write in our heads” that’s why i write fanfiction

HE’S GOT THE NOTEBOOK HE’S GONNA WRITE SOMETHING ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US

WHAT YOU MEAN AN EXPERIMENT THAT’S HIS NAME-

[upon reading the description] so i was right.

wait was that supposed to be the twist in part 2 about the apple in his pocket is that what the existential crisis was about i thought it was because he was introduced to the multiple worlds theory-

PART 4

wait wasnt the other one january 2018 why we going back to 2017-

appol

“--the future and the past all already exist” mhm yep figured this out long ago

there was simultaneously a point in time in which i hadn’t known about this, had been looking it up, had been watching it, and had been writing an ending to this post, and had been posting it the next morning before class. that time is both now and not now. Welcome To The Multiverse Theory or whatever its called-

“--my favorite scene of the movie is waking up next to you.” Mine is eating fast food as I listen to AJJ and play Minecraft. We are not the same.

Now I’m hungry but it’s 1 in the morning and i already put my retainer in god fu-

[reading description] what do you mean previously??? she did that in the first episode????????

[still on description] WHAT DO YOU MEAN WILL QUINN BITE THE APPLE AND GO TO BENJAMINS REALITY ISNT THIS OLIVERS REALITY AND HE HAS TO GET BEN TO BITE THE APPLE WHY IS APPLE CAPITALIZED IS THIS THE DOING OF THE FWEMBT

i should have watched the backstory i should have watched the backstory i should have watched the backstory i should have wa-

[description] oh ive been spelling quinn right the whole time nice

i hope she rejects you /j

WAIT BENJAMIN WAS THE ONE GETTING MARRIED TO ISABELLE

ISNT HE IN SECOND GRADE-

HE IS SEVEN YEARS OLD HOW IS HE GETTING MARRIED ARE THERE TWO BENJAMINS THAT WE’RE FOCUSING ON-

bro get out of the road ull get hit

how do you knOW WHICH ONE IS QUINN THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON-

so

wait

hills wants ben to feed quinn the apple bc in his mind, that will give hills and quinn a happy ending and she doesnt want ben to see the apple bc thats gonna mean ben will know that his reality isnt reality at all. so then oliver has to,,,, not let anyone eat his apple? he just has to wake up?

IS HILLS THE VILLAIN AFTER ALL ORRRRR

wait but if ben sees the apple wont he realize that his reality is wrong and his reality will change, making it so that hills doesnt get her son? or is there some time-based rule that says they’re only transported to the reality that the person believes at that moment? or is this another stab at the multiverse thing where an infinite amount of hills gets their happy endings while an infinite amount of hills doesnt and etc etc?

i should have watched the ba-

oooo dramatique

they’re in a time loop?

nope thats a new powerpoint

wait so theyre,,,, no-

wait-

nvm-

IS THE BEN WE KNOW AN ADULT GETTING MARRIED TO ISABELLE OR NOT-

“they were actually pretty nice” didnt they throw someone off a cliff-

oh so it got confusing THEN??? NOT BEFORE?????

“it all seemed so real.” is that Not the point of vivid REM sleep hallucinations-

is oliver gonna show ben the apple and ruin hills’ whole operation

WHO ARE ALEX AND RYAN-

“what’s 25-8″ bro dont do this to me-

yep hes gonna show the apple

ayyy the guy who stole karl jacobs jacket it back

the second hand embarrassment is back and I Hate It

all that happens in episode ONE??? bro get some better writers that is bad pacing

“it’s the best!” wait until season eight. no show has a good season eight.

quinn knows about the apple thing w the dreams and multiverse and realities dont he

YOU KILLED HIM

NOT KARL JACOBS NOOOOO HES ALREADY DIED ONCE

oliver is v relatable

wHaT iN tArNaTiOn-

lemme hear that explanaton again-

is bill cipher gonna show up? i hope bill cipher shows up. i miss gravity falls

“ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!” moooooooood

did hills murder quinn

is your family the jasper cult

TOXXIICCCCCC get that lady out of your life quinn that is so toxic

“ ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!  ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!” mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S THE END NO WHAT WHY NO

The Adventures of Benjamin and Oliver

he is Not Good

ope-

wait so ben is equal parts an adult AND a child?? okay that clears a lot up

I MEAN HE WAS RIGHT THO BEN U CAN’T REALLY ARGUE ON THAT-

ew get off the floor

butterfly effect, multiverse theory, memory decay, and your imagination ALL exist yall gonna ignore that cause you wanna be famous?

“We already know what the future looks like!”

aRe yOu sUrE aBoUt tHaT-

to add to the list of bad things: Cats (2019)

YA BOI THINKS IT’S NOT ALREADY FIFTY YEARS TOO LATE TO START FIGHTING CLIMATE CHANGE FFFFF

BINGO BABYYYY

get what what

what mapped-

awwwww he thinks THEY’RE creating the multiverse

you gonna dismiss the multiverse theory bc of something you created in your current reality? loooserrrrrr

ABUSE YOUR GODLIKE POWERS

she draggin that seven year old

a lot makes sense now why didnt i do this first-

Jasper

the food shortages-

bro that calculators like 90 bucks at walmart

imagine meeting a stranger and they know Everything about your life like that’s gotta be so weird

what’s even weirder is them telling you you’re the deity of a cult that sacrifices animals

THAT FOURTH WALL BREAK WAS-

KARL JACOBS IS DEAD NOOOOOO

ooohhh there’s context for that

OOOOHHHH THERE’S CONTEXT FOR THIS TOOOO

w h a t -

w  h  a  t  -

W   H   A   T   -

Conclusion:

it’s 2 in the morning and i need sleep but hOOOOO MY GODS THAT WAS GOOD IS IT OVER OR NOT IDK ANYMORE IM TIRED THAT WAS CRAZY I HOPE QUINN AND JASPER GO ON TO BE VERY GOOD FRIENDS, AND I HOPE BENJAMIN AND OLIVER STAY VERY GOOD FRIENDS AND I HOPE HILLS FINDS A THERAPIST WAS A LITTLE CONFUSING BUT I ENJOYED IT

if i dream about apples im suing /j /lh

[queen18xo]

Promp “wait- why are you wearing my underwear?”

Propted by @twokinkybeans for their celebratory fic challenge. 

Tony awoke to the loud clanging of unknown metal objects, accompanied by the beat of some mind-numbing pop song, frantically searching the room to establish the point of origin for the grating noises. "What's the noise Friday?" he asks his voice rough from sleep, he sighs. Relived there are no threats in the immediate vicinity he relaxes the tense set of his shoulders.

"It's Mr Parker Sir" Friday states her voice would seem mocking, but Tony is sure he must be mishearing his AI's tone, until this moment he was confident he hadn't programmed her with emotions. Tony throws his head back into his expensive, duck feather pillows with a loud groan, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to check on the boy.

"Damnit Parker" he growls noticing the early hour flashing in red numbers on the face of the digital clock perched on his solid oak bedside table. His room was still hidden under the heavy cloak of early morning darkness. Running his sleep warmed, calloused palms over his weary face he clothes himself in light grey jogging bottoms and a loose threadbare white cotton t-shirt before making his way to the lab.

Standing in the doorway of the lab, Tony attempts to draw Peters attention away from his work. "Kid!" Tony shouts his vocal cords straining painfully as he tries to yell over the unceasing beat of the music blaring from the speakers. Huffing angrily Tony walks over to the speakers turning them off manually sighing in relief as silence envelops the large room.

Peter twirls to face Tony quickly, losing his balance in his startled state. Tony catches the younger man effortlessly his muscular arms encircling the dainty boy's waist to prevent him from descending further.

"Oh... Mr Stark, hi" Peter greets awkwardly his words muffled as his face is partially buried in the older man's shoulder. Tony grunts abrasively in response his annoyance over being woken up so early not yet dissipating. Peter stiltedly begins to pull away from the man "did I wake you?" Peter asks nervously; he looks up at Tony his baby blue eyes shining up through long dark lashes.

Tony sighs the anger bubbling viciously in his veins ceasing as he is faced with the precious boy before him. "Yeah kid, you kinda did" Tony states in exasperation. He sinks into the lab sofa arms crossing over his chest as he motions for Peter to continue his work.

"Are you sure, Mr Stark?" Peter asks, nervously pulling his plump, pink bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the delicate skin there. This was a nervous habit Stark had seen the kid display on numerous occasions. The action making Tony crave to close the distance separating them and soothe the boys no doubt sore bottom lip with his tongue. Tony clears his throat as he sits flustered, nodding to the boy to assure him he could carry on working. Peter smiles down at the older man warmly before turning back to his work station. Tony put the music back on lowering the volume, so the song is merely a gentle hum in the background.

Tony watches the gentle unthinking sway of Peter's feminine hips as he moves to the music, the sight forcing Tony to bite back the desperate urge to slide up behind the boy and allow their bodies to grind together as the moved to the beat. The slow sensual movements captivating, Tony sat mesmerised by the sinful way the boys unusually exposed body moved to the beat.

Tony's breath hitched, and his cock twitched in the confines of his jogging bottoms. He had seen Peter in his skin-tight Spider-Man suit, but he had never seen such a large amount of the boys supple milking flesh exposed before. Tony desperately tried to remind himself that the only reason the kid was wearing so little was because of the early hour. The boy's hair still mussed from sleep, leading Tony to believe this is what the boy had worn to bed. Tony berated his depraved mind as he fought to control himself around the underclothed young man.

"Could you help me with this formula please Mr Stark?" Peter asked timidly, cutting off Tonys lustful and self-deprecating thoughts. He moves to stand next to Peter, the natural musk of the boy washing over Tony, causing a wave of comfort to settle deep in his gut due to their proximity.

"Kid... Is that my shirt?" Tony asked, confused as he entirely takes in the oversized black t-shirt 'MIT' emblazoned on the front in striking white lettering. The shirt itself was well worn, multiple holes adorning it from endless days spent working in the lab.

A delectable flush rose high on Peter's cheeks as he realised he had been caught wearing his mentor's shirt. "Oh, god. Mr Stark, I am so sorry" the began stumbling over his words in his blind panic, his breathing becoming laboured as he fights to explain the situation. Tony grips Peters shoulder firmly in an attempt to ground the boy. "Hey kid it's okay" he whispers calmly in the air between them. The calm he is exuding contradicting with the way his heart hammered in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. Before he can think better of it, he raises a large hand to cup Peters flushed cheek, the skin soft and warm beneath his rough palm. "It looks better on you kid" the words spill from Tony's mouth without thought, leaving the man desperately wishing he could take them back.

Peter looks up at his mento the shadows cast by his eyelashes fanning over his cheeks in the dim light of the lab. "Do you want to kiss me, Mr Stakr?" the boy questions cheekily causing Tony's jaw to drop in shock.

The man spluttered, uselessly trying to decide on a response. He could lie to Peter and say no, that way, he wouldn't wreck their relationship, or he could be honest and give in to the desire burning within him. Tony wasn't exactly known for his stellar restraint.

He locks eyes with Peter slowly closing the distance between them, allowing the boy time to change his mind. "Please Tony," the boy pleads voice no more than a whisper.

Their lips connect in a hungry biting kiss, Tony's tongue exploring the et heat of Peter's inexperienced mouth. The younger man out brokenly, throwing his arms around Tony's neck. Tony grips the boy by his plump ass pulling him up until his legs are wrapped tightly around Tony's waist.

Sitting the boy atop the lab table, Tony steps back, taking in the sight of Peter flushed and panting, pupils blown wide with lust and lips a juicy red. Trailing his eyes hungrily over the boy's lithe body he becomes entranced by the way Peters tight black boxers stretch obscenely over his substantial length.

Tony begins pushing the oversized shirt up over Peters toned waist. Stopping abruptly as he notices the familiar design on the waistband on Peter's boxers. "wait- kid, why are you wearing my underwear?" Tony ask curiously.

Peter giggles "because I'm yours Mr Stark" Peter states unashamedly. Tonys cock hardens instantly, the sight of Peter in his clothes breaking the tenuous restraint he once had.

"Fuck, I love you kid" Tony confesses pulling Peter in for a passionate kiss.

"I love you too, Tony," Peter says, welcoming Tony's mouth. "Bedroom, please... Mr Stark" Peter whispers with a bitten-off moan. Tony happily complies carrying the smaller man to his room, peppering him with sweet, loving kisses as they went.

[demonicintegrity]

I need more dad!Jamack! I think it would be hilarious if Harris got to meet little Harris.

I believe @pretentiousendeavour touched on that scenario a lil bit because it is a funny thought. (this is xyr AU) but I adore this au and this prompt too much to not drabble something for it. Assuming Harris is alive for this lmao.

Froglet Harris is different from Mod Frog Harris in a few ways. The most glaringly obvious being lil Harris has little sense of self-preservation and love adventure. She doesn’t even need arms, she’s gotten into plenty of trouble with just two legs.

If Jamack had hair it’d start getting gray. The amount of times he’s had to run after this child is far too many. And that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. The child had run into the forest, swearing she saw a small mute they could make into food. Good intention, he’ll give her that, but most mutes don’t take kindly into being made into lunch and she’s not the best at her combat training.

So Jamack is on the chase, calling after her and praying she isn’t gonna walk into a mega bunny den again. It’s easy to find her no matter how quickly ahead she goes, her eyes always give her away. She doesn’t respond to his calls but he sees a flash of red out of the corner of his eyes.

He leaps towards it, aiming to grab her shirt and shake some sense into her but is interrupted—

“Jamack!? What the hell!”

He’s shoved off. It’s not froglet Harris, it’s old asshole colleague Harris.

“Wha- Harris!?”

“Don’t you “what” me, you’re the one who grabbed me!”

“Yea well I didn’t think it was you.” He says with a huff. “They hell are you doing here anyways? Mod Frogs don’t need to be in these parts.”

“Why I’m here is none of your business! I should be asking you that!” Harris makes a point to jab his chest with that remark.

“What’s it matter to you why I’m here? This isn’t Mod Frog territory, I can be here if I wanna be!”

“Doesn’t matter! Why are you here? You know damn well we come through these parts!” Harris has his hands on Jamack now, both hands grabbing his collar in threat.

“Harris you ass-“

“Hey, why ya callin me an ass I didn’t do nothing!” The froglet enters the scene, kicking off a stick that got snagged on her pants before turning to the two older frogs.

Harris stares at the froglet, than back at Jamack, than at the froglet again, processing the fact that this child responded to his name. Said child is staring at the scene in front of her, not only amazed by another frog that looks like her, but reeling at that fact that he’s grabbing her dad. Jamack on the other hand, starts to sweat, realizing his situation just got like three extra layers of shit added onto it.

(Honestly just imagine that tiktok audio going DUN dun DUN dun DUN dun DUNN as the three look at each other, it’s all I can see in this scene, ending in a close up of Jamack sweating in distress. It’s hilarious.)

The froglet is the first to move, shouting a war cry of “GETOFFMYDAD” before charging forward to headbutt the lanky frog. Jamack, taking advantage of the fact that Harris Sr is off guard, breaks free of his grasp and grabs the child. In a smooth, rehearsed all-too-often move, he’s got the child under one arm like she’s a piece of luggage. No amount of her kicking his getting her free.

Harris is in shock. There’s another frog with red eyes like him- she’s a froglet but sure- and she’s kicking and whining in Jamack’s grasp and he’s handling her like it’s nothing.

“Welp. Better get going.” Jamack wants this scenario to end now.

“Wha- now hold on just a minute! What the fuck!?”

“Don’t you swear at him! I’ll bite you!”

“Harris no you won’t-“

“HARRIS!?” So he wasn’t mishearing things, the froglet is named Harris. “Her name is Harris!?”

“And what about it punk!?”

“Oh lord.”

Poor Jamack does not ever get a break. He sets the child down, sighs, and rubs his face.

“Harris, this is Harris. No, I didn’t pick out her name intentionally-“

“But didn’t you-“ She speaks up.

“No. She’s a froglet and we’re just staying in the area for a bit until she gets her arms.”

“Hold up- what- you’re taking care of her!?”

“No- well- ah-“ He stammers. It’s not like he has a good response to this, nor is it common for frogs to actually take care of their young.

“Yea so what! What about you!? You got eyes like me, we related or something? I’ve never seen another frog like me!”

“Uh no. We’re not related.” Harris tells her, ignoring how Jamack tries to tell her to be quiet. Under his breath Harris half-mentions not seeing a frog like himself either. “Where are you from?”

“Jamack found me in an old human store. What about you?”

“I was born back at the Pond- er, with the Mod Frogs.”

Her eyes turn into stars as she gasp. “Are there more of us there!?” She’s excited at the prospect.

“Uh, no.” He says a little too flatly. “No. Just frogs more like Jamack.”

“Oh.” She pretends she didn’t deflate as much as she did.

There’s an awkward pause. The trio of frogs processing what’s going on, Jamack resisting the urge to bite his knuckles in nervous habit. He did not plan for these two meeting each other, hell, ever since he started raising lil Harris his old colleagues completely escaped his mind.

“So uh...” Harris tries to speak back up again. “Your name is Harris?”

“Harris-“ Jamack tries to warn the child, a dumb attempt and he knows.

“Yea! It’s the first thing he said to me I think! Soooo it’s my name.” She says cheerily.

Harris looks at Jamack, who’s face is flushed and is currently trying to keep a nervous ribbit from coming up. He fails. Harris laughs.

“You- you named a child after me!” He points at him, laughing at the absurdity of it. His old disgraced coworker, someone he used to spend almost all his work time with, named a child after him!?

“It wasn’t intentional-!”

“Bullshit! How do you accidentally name a child!?”

“Trust me Harris-“ Jamack stammers. He’s never been so out of his element before.

The two frogs bicker again, Jamack desperately trying to salvage what remains of his pride and reputation and Harris just laughing at the absurdity of it all.

Lil Harris is just watching with awe. She’s just happy she’s meeting another frog. He’s even wearing a suit like her dad! Clearly, this must mean only cool and fun things are going to come from this.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Top Ten” Kylo Ren x Earthling! Reader

(Anon asked: “I loved your post about Kylo Ren and the reader being from Earth! Do you think you could do one with the same idea of the reader being from Earth and is dating Kylo? She gets him to react to the top 10 dumbest tweets because they’re just so funny and it makes it even funnier when you know that there is a lot of people out there that are really that stupid. (Mostamazingtop10 is the channel on YouTube)”

Warnings: Dumb tweet mentions and reference to their content.

Word Count: 1,751 )

Being Supreme Leader of The First Order had its advantages. One such advantage being that he made his own schedule. A second such advantage was that Kylo Ren had no one who would ridicule him nor tell him to spend less time with his partner.

For you, living in amongst The First Order was definitely something you never saw coming. Honestly as someone from Earth you only expected so much in terms of being involved with events other than those of your homeworld. Space travel was one thing you were still trying to mentally grasp even after a year of knowing and dating the Kylo Ren.

Despite a schedule that could be changed on a whim, you found yourself having quiet time with your boyfriend. No creepy helmet, no barking general, and no training. It was the perfect alone time.

“Feeling better today?” You asked as you joined Kylo on the dark-colored couch.

“Always better with you.”

You shook your head at his smirk.

Over the past couple of days Kylo had been feeling a tad under the weather not that the medical droids diagnosed him with anything besides fatigue. Thankfully, you were someone he’d listen to, especially when it came to taking care of himself.

You had a way of putting your foot down and speaking logically.

“How about we get our minds off of business for a while and entertain ourselves,” you suggested.

“That sounds very agreeable.”

“YouTube it is!”

“You—what?”

“Videos online,” you reached over for his Datapad.

“Earth thing, right.”

“How….about…oh. Top tens. Umm….how about dumbest tweets?”

Kylo ran a hand over his face.

“Out of everything we could be doing with now you want to watch a holovid about idiots?” Kylo looked at you strangely if then with an amount of judgement.

“Well first I have to remember how to find all of the,” you tapped away at the Datapad, “Earth based sites. They run differently…”

Kylo draped an arm behind you on the couch.

“There we go.”

Once finding the right links the rest of your search was easy.

“Over fifty videos?”

“We’re not going to watch them all. Chill.” You patted his leg in reassurance. “I mean, it’s funny to a point until you realize it’s real. They’re people who just…don’t get it or something. It’s really sad if you just think about it. Disappointing and slightly-worried sad because how have they gotten this far?”

You pressed for the very first video to play.

Kylo sat quietly, seemingly giving the video a chance.

How long would that last exactly? If it did.

The video started as a countdown from ten. Added that it really did start off pretty foolish. In a pay-attention-to-what-the-sentence-actually-was sort of way.

Obviously the first person did know what the phrase ‘I’d rather kill myself’ actually meant.

You could feel Kylo’s eyes as they peered over at you.

“They don’t realize what they’re saying…usually that’s an excuse.”

“Or they have no idea at all,” Kylo said.

The following tweet included the idea of the Earth having a birthday. Or rather someone thinking that the planet was only 2,014 years old.

“I forgot that Earth still has their own—.”

“Shh!”

His only comment and response afterwards being an exaggerated exhale through his nose.

“Earthlings are stubborn to keep things how they like them.”

“Is that why there’s a group that prohibits the idea of space travel even while a cargo ship supplies them with food?”

You shrugged.

Number eight of dumbest tweets came in the form of not knowing the answer meanwhile the answer was in their question. Also known as: when someone doesn’t realize that the name most people refer to a president by is their last name.

“Wow,” your shoulders shook with laughter. “How’s American History class going for you?”

“This is old.”

“I know. Shh.”

He flicked your shoulder.

You bopped his knee.

You were messing with your boyfriend, but also messing with how it wasn’t entirely the person’s fault for not knowing the last name of a president. Names were almost used as nicknames in some cases.

“Couldn’t they have searched it on the Holonet? Were they that lazy?”

“Shh.”

Tweet number seven on the list had a lead up that was already having Kylo cringing.

A tweet that included someone believing something online without thinking about the real life, common sense, science. Against what the person tweeting had read, a microwave that heats up food or drinks was not ever going to charge the battery of a phone.

“No. No, no….they—they did,” he groaned.

“Good lesson though.” You suggested. You couldn’t even imagine what information they lost on their SD card let alone the condition of the microwave.

“And if it wasn’t? What if after all of that, they still believe it?”

You shrugged as it started the next tweet soon after explaining the why it obviously didn’t work.

A tweeted question appeared about whether the amount of months a woman was pregnant doubled or not if she had twins. That was definitely different. Not to mention odd.

“Only child?”

“Probably,” you said.

“Did poorly in health lessons?”

“More likely.”

“That would be an extremely long time. They should have thought about their question longer. Would have taken them eighteen months.” He chuckled.

“Have you thought about it?”

He didn’t say a word.

Number five on the countdown had a person who had no idea that apples also had a variety of green.

“Does she live on a desert planet?”

You elbowed him lightly.

“It’s food. A common one, right?”

You nodded.

When the host mentioned about the colors of bananas and oranges to tell the person who tweeted, you both started snickering.

“Wanna send Hux some oranges?”

“Too expensive. Earth is too close to wild space.”

“Could you do it for my birthday?”

Your snickering continued a little longer as the next tweet involved someone who, though excited, did not know whether they’d be an aunt or an uncle.

“I’m guessing their parents are both the only child.”

“Yeah,” Kylo leaned closer to you. “This one isn’t so bad. The heating up a phone was pretty ridiculous. It went against knowledge of two machines.”

“True, but here they somehow managed to think that the baby’s gender, no matter how that works out, determines whether they are an aunt or uncle. I have a lot of questions about this. Did someone tell them something? Did they mishear or—?”

“It’s the next one. Last three.”

You could actually hear the amusement in his voice. That was a happy change. Also an almost rare one.

Well the third in the list was definitely something. It was a mixture of ignorance, poor grammar, and a bit of rudeness. Long story short, they believed that the Earth was flat. They firmly believed it.

Pausing the video, Kylo waited for you to face him before he made a ‘you serious?’ expression.

“It’s not my fault that even with space travel people on Earth thought or still think that the planet’s flat.”

“How do they not believe what’s…what they are living on?”

“I don’t know. I guess they don’t look out onto the curved horizon or a lunar eclipse.”

He threw his head back and slumped in his seat.

Again you patted his thigh, but this time in an effort to comfort him from others’….lack of knowledge.

“Oh, no,” you watched tweet number two as the video panned down on a tweet that included pictures. “It’s literally the same name and face. Read the credits, sweetie.”

“What’s a bel air?”

Whipping your head in his direction, you had a realization.

“You’ve never watched it.”

“Is…is it a show?”

“Yes. That’s next on your learning-from-Earth to-do list. I was wondering why you weren’t giving much of a reaction.”

“It’s still stupid.”

“Language.”

The number one dumbest tweet appeared on screen. The finale of the video. Yet it only took the image of someone’s debit card to raise a response from Kylo.

Loud groaning from your boyfriend drowned out the audio from the video.

“She literally was giving away all of the information they should have told her to keep to herself. What did she think was going to happen? Is no one telling her? No sense. She deserved that one.”

“Maybe somewhere and somehow she figured it out.” You said.

“Doubt it.”

“Give the earthlings a chance.”

“There’s only one earthling worth chances.”

You smiled to yourself despite everything.

Once you thought that the tweet’s story was at a close, it wasn’t. You both heard the continuation of the tweet.

“She did the same thing again? Seriously? Did she not learn anything from people using her card? Is it going to take her ten times to figure it out?”

“Chill, babe. Chill. You don’t have to deal with it.”

By then the video was wrapping up nicely and advertising more videos.

“There. It’s over.”

“I can only take so much stupidity.”

“You’ll be okay,” you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “And be nice.”

“And just so we’re clear, I think it’s safer for you never to return to your home planet for the sake of your intelligence.”

“It’s not all that bad. There are a lot of intelligent people from Earth.”

He rose a dark eyebrow at you.

“Don’t give me that attitude, mister.” You poked his nose.

An unseen action pulled the Datapad from your grasp.

It did not surprise you nor did it baffle you. Your boyfriend was a Force user. Common knowledge.

Kylo set the Datapad aside as he refocused on you.

“You took those tweets very well.”

He eyed you suspiciously.

“Want the truth?”

He nodded.

“I’ve heard worse while still on Earth.”

“My earlier statement is now an order. You’re not traveling back. I will give you more duties here. Have you deal with Hux.”

“Please, no.”

There was his familiar chuckle, only seen and heard by you, as he proved that he was slightly teasing. He respected and valued you; he wasn’t about to ruin your day by forcing you to spend time with Hux or not pick where you could go.

“So…,” you leaned closer to play with his dark hair. “Wanna watch Fresh Prince of Bel Air?”

“I think I’ve watched enough holovids today.”

Your boyfriend, the Supreme Leader, had other ideas in mind to spend his time with you in company.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

[tysonbarrieisamapleleaf]

First Time For Everything

Reader x Frederik Gauthier

Smut: yes | no

Requested: yes | no

******

You frowned as you leaned against the bartop, your eyes scanning the room to see what you were dealing with. You noticed a tall, broad-shouldered figure from across the crowded bar, flanked on either side by two friends. The smaller of his friends, a blonde haired man with a bright, flashing smile glanced over at you before leaning in to whisper to his taller counterparts.

“Ugh,” you groaned, turning back to face the bar.

“Can’t find him?” your best friend, Kate gave you a sympathetic look as she mixed drinks behind the counter.

“I can’t believe he stood me up!” you shook your head quickly, “Kate, I need another drink.”

“You got it,” she laughed as she slid a cold glass across the glossy wood finish of the counter. You lifted it to your lips, taking a sip of the ice cold beverage, letting it slip down your throat much easier than anything with vodka should be able to.

After a few minutes, and half a vodka-cran later, the tallest member of the group approached the bar, sitting on the stool beside you. You glanced to your left, trying not to make it obvious that you were eying him up. His short dark hair was tousled in that perfect, effortlessly sexy way, with just the right amount of gel holding it in place. His facial hair was neatly trimmed, somewhere between a close shave and a five o’clock shadow. His dark, round-framed glasses sat on his nose, his chocolate brown stare gazing around the room as he waited for his beer. Kate flashed you an excited grin as she mouthed something about his appearance to you, before handing him his drink.

“Thank you!” he smiled softly, his accent, which you presumed to be French, sounded smooth and sweet.

He took a sip of the frothy pale ale, setting his glass down on the bar when he was finished. You noticed him turn his chair towards you, and smiled softly as he tried to get your attention discreetly.

“My friends suggested I come and sit with a beautiful girl tonight,” he nodded once before smiling at you, “they must have meant you.”

“Clever,” you laughed softly before sipping at your drink again.

“I made you laugh,” he smiled, “I think that counts for something.”

You spun your seat to the side, facing him now. You gave him a small smile, shrugging your shoulders in agreement as you tried to play his attention off nonchalantly.

“You going to tell me your name?” you laughed as you twirled your straw around in your drink.

“It’s Frederik, but I suppose most people call me Freddy, and yours? I’m assuming it’s not Beautiful, but it should be,” a flirtatious smile forming on his lips, his brown eyes twinkling at you as they caught the light.

“I’m Y/N. No nicknames, but I kinda like this whole “beautiful” thing you’re starting here.”

“Oh? Guess I’m not as bad of a flirt than I thought.”

He gave you a wink before taking another swig from his beer glass. You finished your drink, setting the glass down on the counter. You were about to motion for Kate to come over, but Frederik interrupted you before you could open your mouth.

“Please, let me buy you this one?”

His accent was thick, the sound as sweet as honey to your ears. You nodded your head slowly, a loose strand of your hair falling into your face as you smiled at him.

He called Kate over, as politely as you’d ever heard someone flag a bartender. She smiled, giving you a discreet thumbs up as she began mixing your drinks.

Three or four drinks later, you and Frederik were somewhere between tipsy and drunk, but, he’d been nothing but a gentleman towards you, ordering your drinks and engaging in casual conversation. You’d hoped he wouldn’t ask why you were here, you were a terrible liar, and didn’t want to make yourself sound desperate or pathetic.

“So,” he began, spinning his seat to face you before flashing you a grin, “what brings you here anyway?”

“Well,” you nodded before downing the remnants of your drink quickly, “I was supposed to be meeting a date,” you said as fast as you could, hoping he would mishear you.

“You were stood up? That’s crazy,” he nodded before sipping his beer.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s not the first time?”

“It sounds to me like you need to meet someone worthy of your time,” he nodded slowly before standing up, his large frame casting a shadow over you.

“Want to go somewhere a little more, quiet?” he smiled softly at you.

“You know what? Fuck it, let’s go,” you laughed as you hopped off the stool, following Frederik out of the bar.

Once outside, you and Frederik stood next to a row of vehicles parked behind the bar. You quickly leaned upwards, pulling him into a kiss.

Frederik wrapped a muscular arm around your waist, intensifying the kiss as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip. After a few moments, you pulled away, feeling breathless.

“Normally I’m not like this,” he laughed softly, “but, maybe if I say it in French, it’ll sound more gentlemanly of me.”

“Caressons dans ma voiture?” he bit his lip as he tried to hold back a grin.

“Uh, something about a car?” you tried, laughing at your failed attempt as understanding French.

“Let’s make out in my car,” he laughed, “it sounded better than ‘I want to make out with you in the backseat.’”

You nodded your head as he led you to a red suv parked towards the back of the lot. He unlocked the door, opening it before gesturing for you to get in before him. He grinned as he pulled it closed behind him, his legs just barely fitting in the back. He leaned forward into your lips as you kissed him.

Frederik hummed against your lips, a soft groan escaping his mouth as his tongue traced the edge of your bottom lip. You parted them just enough for him to slip his tongue between your lips, the taste of alcohol faintly touching your mouth as your tongues battled one another for dominance. He ran a hand around to your back, resting his fingers on the clasp of your bra.

You pulled away, biting his lower lip gently, giving it a soft tug. He grinned as you placed your hands on the crotch of his jeans, palming the fabric as he returned his lips to yours. He pushed you back in your seat, unclipping your bra with one hand. His mouth left a trail of hot, wet kisses from your lips down to your neck, continuing as he reached the neckline of your shirt. Quickly, he pulled it off in one swift motion, throwing it somewhere into the dark void that was the front seat.

“Merde, j’ai besoin de toi,” he growled into your collarbone as his large hand made its way down the front of your jeans, the button popping open as he slid it down.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, his native tongue turning you on much more than you thought it would.

“Oh, you like when I speak like that in French?” he hummed, amused by your reaction as the tip of his finger circled your sensitive nub.

You moaned loudly, arching your back slightly at his touch.

“You fucking bet I do,” you growled.

“You know, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he grinned as he pressed his lips to the soft skin of your breasts.

You groaned at his touch, squirming in pleasure as he sucked at your skin, his finger tracing slow circles on your clit, with just the right amount of pressure to make you feel like you were going to lose it right then and there. You tried your best to keep it together, gritting your teeth as you held it in.

“Am I?” you smirked at him, taking in a sharp breath as you felt his facial hair brushing against your nipple as he took it into your mouth. He moaned softly against your skin before using his tongue to encircle it. You whined as he pulled away to answer you, taking his fingers to pinch at it while still keeping his left hand down the front of your pants.

"That feels good doesn't it?" he grinned as he dipped the tip of his finger into your centre.

You whined out again, feeling your toes curl in your sandals as he pushed his finger in a little further, his other hand giving your breast a tight squeeze. You managed to nod your head before you opened your lips to speak, instead being cut off by a moan as he pumped his finger into your core.

“Fuck,” you got out.

His chocolate brown eyes gazed at you as he slowly dragged his finger out of you, a smirk appearing on his face as he spoke.

“I think you getting on top might be the easiest way to do this,” he chuckled softly.

You nodded, lifting yourself up just enough to let him stretch his legs out across the seat. You grinned as you sat on his thick thighs, undoing the button on his jeans before tugging them off, Frederik lifting his hips to help you get them out of the way. You dragged his boxers down with them, giving yourself enough space to mount him. He quickly tugged your jeans down around your knees, before you kicked them off onto the floor.

Your eyes followed down his body to his hips, his chiseled form turning you on so much more than you imagined it would. His cock was the biggest you’d ever taken, and you weren’t 100 percent sure how well this would go down, but fuck, you couldn’t help it. You didn’t care if you were literally unable to walk the next day, he had you so hot and bothered that you literally needed it.

He carefully tore open the packaging to a condom before rolling it over his erection slowly, grinning at you as you mounted him the minute he moved his hand away. You moaned out loudly as his tip entered you, gripping the top of the seat with one hand and Frederik’s shoulder with the other as you allowed yourself to adjust to his width.

“Plus gros que vous avez jamais eu?” he smirked at you as you slowly slid down onto his full member, before the pair of you exchanged a loud groan in pleasure.

“Tell me, am I the biggest you’ve ever had?” he laughed softly as he read your confused expression as you paused.

“Definitely,” you laughed softly as you chewed your bottom lip, before beginning to slowly bob up and down on his cock.

Frederik grunted as you began to bounce up and down on him, his hands resting firmly on your hips as you moved. You groaned out as you continued moving, picking up the pace as much as you could. His hands ran up your sides, reaching for your breasts. He gave each of your nipples a gentle pinch as he began to thrust into your core in perfect timing with your movements.

“Shit,” you hissed as you threw your head back, continuing to ride him as he thrusted his hips up into you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled at you, his accent thick and heavy as he spoke.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge, and before you could even try to hold it back, the feeling crashed over you, causing you to scream out his name at full volume, followed by a flurry of sighing and swear words. Frederik moaned as he gave a final couple of hard, sharp thrusts into you, panting by the time he stopped. You dismounted him and turned your back to him so the two of you could clean up as best as you could.

“Wow,” he laughed softly, “you know, I don’t do this whole, hookup thing often, but for you, maybe I should.”

“Oh?” you turned back to face him as you pulled your bottoms back on over your legs, “why’s that?”

“I mean, when you first walked into that bar, I knew there was something different about you, and I liked it. You were beautiful, but you just seemed so...interesting. My friends fed me a beer or two before basically leaving me on my own to talk to you, and well...I’m sounding a bit pathetic, aren’t I?”

“Not at all,” you laughed softly as you finished redressing yourself, “I like the awkwardness, it’s kind of, refreshingly sweet.”

“So...is this the part where we exchange phone numbers and then I call you in a week to ask you out for dinner?”

“Yes,” you laughed as you held your phone out to him, “but don’t worry, I’ll call you before the week is up.”

[f-117-nighthawk]

More playlist meta bc I don’t wanna do homework and Jimmy kicked me out of the TA room saying I’d been in there for far too long for a Friday (it was four hours! Interspaced between classes! Workshop kit inventory is just an excuse to blast Gloryhammer to me, it’s fun)

Since I was talking about Ten Thousand Against One earlier, I’ve been thinking about the timeline and which event the songs are connected to. Long post under the cut

Turn the Lights Out is... sort of an odd case. It’s not like Remnants of Stars, which is about Galran and my philosophy about how we were created, what happens to us when we die, and the cycles that power the universe. Of course, Remnants of Stars is a little more than just philosophy. It actually describes (in a rather metaphorical way) the actual process of the marthinazik filtering quintesence into new stars, planets, beings, anything you can think of. It also has a very important lyric for much much later like, post Sticky Notes later. Now that I think about it, it actually defines a good chunk of that maybe-sequel-maybe-idea era in conjunction with Soul Extract’s Filaments. 

Anyway, back to Turn the Lights Out. It’s an odd case because it’s sort of like Remnants of Stars in that it’s more about the philosophy, but it’s before Remnants of Stars because it’s also kind of an event. If you read interviews with Delain about Moonbathers, Charlotte states that Turn the Lights Out is about Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics, specifically the character of Death. I confess I haven’t read those comics, but my interpretation fits her rather well I think. To me, Turn the Lights Out is about a gentle god who accepts they will not always be seen as who they are but will give their everything to protect those within their universe. Now, who does that sound like? Which characters have been around since the birth of the universe, under various names, whether they be Ibeshganszá, ‘kibrraldíl, Marduzbazí, or Vôltrôn? 

You can make an argument for Your World Will Fail to be directly after Turn the Lights Out, but I rather like it after Remnants of Stars too. Turn the Lights Out is the beginning of the universe, so naturally, it goes first. Sentient life needs to evolve for Remnants of Stars to truly fit, and even though Your Would Will Fail technically can happen at any point between the first Plank time and the next, it also happens when the comet that becomes Voltron crashes into Daibazaal. The Your World Will Fail/Dark Matter/Eater of Worlds trio is both a general, entire timeline-spanning idea, and a specific event. 

(Your world will fail my love/It's far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can't imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I'm looking for someone to feed me)

And then, right after that event, or even during, you have Apocalypse 1992. The death of the dream, the final madness before the triumph of chaos. 

You Keep What You Kill is very much the odd one out out of everything. Helion Prime based it off a book I forget the name of, but here it’s purely about Zarkon’s empire. The “Holy Half-Dead” have lost so much of their culture, of the family bonds that kept them together even when their mistakes threatened the destruction of all, but they still remember the songs of glory. And they do keep what they kill. 

And then there’s a rather large time jump of about five thousand Earth years to The Seven Sisters. This song is pretty well encapsulated in Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) (which is a lyric from Closure, but Closure is later for Reasons), but the other half of it is connected to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met.

Who Will Save You Now has gone through so many iterations of what it’s connected to I honestly don’t remember what it actually is anymore. Given its placement between The Seven Sisters and Nobody Gets Left Behind, I think it’s related to the SFSS Genesis’s disappearance. But it could also be placed in conjunction with A Simple Plan and be about something slightly different...hm, I’ll think on that. This song has such a Dark Matter vibe to me, but it hasn’t found a home that sticks in my brain yet. 

Nobody Gets Left Behind is really there bc it’s a fun song and when I found 1551 I immediately had to put something in. BUT it is a good song about family dynamics and, well, that’s Voltron in a nutshell right? (and then you get, right there in the first verse, “Don't even try to pretend/That you're rough and just as tough/As when you're missing a friend/Attack and take him back/Cause when the team isn't whole/You've got a hole in your soul/So step up to your fucking role/We might get hurt/We might be taking some hits/But when you're taking our friend/Then that's some personal shit” and you cannot tell me that’s not everybody’s mood post Battle in the Sarnan Nebula) 

A Simple Plan is a new addition in the past few weeks. I rediscovered The Spiritual Machines a few weeks ago and the lyric “How long can we hold off ending/How long can we pretend we're ok” hit me right in the Keith feels. So this one is in conjunction with the first verse of Nobody Gets Left Behind. The entire song actually reminds me of Dark Matter with how it’s centralized at one event but contains hints of other things (The truth arrived too slow).

Memories of a Girl I Haven't Met is maybe one standard year (so six earth months-ish?) after A Simple Plan. 

String Theory is... weird. It’s mostly there for the title, but the lyrics do contain themes found in other parts of the playlist that fit really well but don’t map to the event I associate the song with. It’s honestly about Shiro missing Adam and the rest of the people on Earth. Which, granted, given the point in the timeline the title is associated with makes a certain amount of sense but...idk. And the bit that begins with “You don’t believe in space” is about something entirely different. It’s confusing, but all inexplicably related to the title event.

Interesting fact: My Dark Matter drafts/ideas folder is actually split int pre- and post- String Theory folders. It was originally because String Theory is such a pivotal moment in the Coalition’s efforts, but it also ended up vaguely the middle of the timeline. It’s the point where things absolutely, truly, have no relation to what happens in canon. The butterfly effect stemming from the events of Shatterpoint (and an implied secondary shatterpoint in another fic) have changed things enough that apart from one general event, nothing happens the same way (and that event is for drastically different reasons). All in all, it fits the weird vibe of the song rather well.

Next is Belgrade, the Ultimate Klance Song, about three months later. Fun Shenanigans happen in conjunction with this absolute bop.

Here’s the surprisingly big gap of just over a standard Earth year, in which several important events happen that don’t have songs attached to them (Roentgen, maybe)

Then we get Birthright/Firewall, a set of songs about reclaiming yourself from the depths of hell with just a liiiiiitle bit of help from your family.

(It's time to take ahold of what belongs to me/It's time to walk away with no apologies/Voices in the mirror start quietly/And now they're screaming back at me!)

(This force knows what you can do/And what you can make/With your tattered shell)

Here Comes the Reign technically starts during Birthright/Firewall, but doesn’t come into full effect until a month later, and then even fuller around five months after that. Meanwhile, we have The Day the Earth Collapsed, which is rather self-explanatory.

A few months later there is Darker Matter. The fic connected to this is real weird, but also real important. Suffice to say it’s gonna be confusing, and a universe doesn’t like the Paladins for a while.

And then we have Closure. Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) is actually the first of four fics inspired by Closure’s chorus. (I also drew a picture for each fic. They’re combined into my desktop background, and the first one is still my phone background and my pfp) “I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye”

Closure is a rather sad song actually, but the way I’ve interpreted it ends on a bright spot of hope. The first related fic I’ve already posted/talked about, the second would be around the time of A Simple Plan. The third is somewhere in the gap between Belgrade and Birthright/Firewall. I’ve placed Closure at the approximate time of the fourth fic. I actually just moved it while writing this, because I realized this makes more sense after Darker Matter and with the Fall of [Redacted]. I’ve chosen to interpret the last line as finally deciding to stay instead of the (probably more likely given the rest of the album) darker interpretations.

After Closure is Ember, which is actually super connected to Darker Matter which is why I originally had them next to each other. The thing is, all three of these songs are connected to very specific events, the latter two of which are in direct response to the first even if there is a month or two between them. Ember is on the playlist for two reasons: the first is the line “dark matter falling from the sky” that basically required me to put it somewhere; the second is the fact that I keep mishearing the lyrics. “chthonic” is not “cuthonic” (which is not a word, but I interpreted as meaning Cthulu-like) and it’s “riches to embers” not “witches to embers.” Make of that what you will.

And finally, after almost seven Earth years, we get to The Reckoning/This is a Call/World on Fire/Louder Than Words. The Reckoning sort-of picks up where The Day the Earth Collapsed left off, spanning at least a year before going full force into the frantic five days of the other three songs.

(In blood and tears/A thousand times/We rise against/We'll always hold the line/Of reckoning)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

[generaldevi]

Prognosis

Chapter 7: Giving in

Rating: Mature Pairing: Law x Luffy

Characters: Roronoa Zoro, Nami, Monkey D. Luffy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, Usopp, Donquixote Doflamingo (mentioned), Donquixote Rocinante (mentioned, Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Sanji (mentioned)

Warnings: References to Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Dependency

My part for the @lawlu-events BigBang 2018/19

The story got illustrated by the awesome artist @novicecomics

“Zorro! Nami! Usopp!” Luffy called his friends, while waving with his free arm. “Got him!” He flopped down on the free chair, pointing to the other one next to him. “Sit down Torao!” He cheered, grinning broadly. “It took you longer, then I expected” Zorro said with a smirk, scrutinizing the other one. Luffy had a talent to get what he wanted, whatever he wanted.

“Yes, I was starting to wonder, if I should have betted against Nami!” Usopp said with a little nervous laughter. He still felt weird around the doctor. He had a weird aura to himself. Something Usopp could not put his finger on. He was calmer than the first time they met, though. If Luffy trusted the doctor, he would do so too (even though a little bit of caution would harm nobody).

“Sadly, you did not~," Nami said with a playful sigh, before smiling at Law. It was a warm smile. She could very much understand how the other must feel. It was always weird being the new one to a group of people, who already knew each other and were close friends. “Do I want to know what bet this was?” Law said in a gruff tone of voice. He already guessed it was about him, and he was sure, that he would not like to know… whatever it was about.

“Nami wanted to bet, if I get you before the trip ends! But no one wanted to bet against her!” The voice of Luffy was cheerful. “Nami never loses a bet! If you want to keep your money, do not bet against her! Or play with her!” “Oi!” Nami raised her fist. “Do not warn the new one!” Now the chances of milking the new one for easy money were gone. Damn Luffy being nice and social.

“You took out enough people on this ship already! No need to also take out one of us!” Zorro said, before looking at Law, who seemed rather confused.

“You! Silent! I did not forget how much money you still owe me! You understand me?! One day I will come to your apartment and snatch all your liquor and sell it!” “No way!”

“Are your friends always... you know... like this?” Law said. One moment the others seemed like typical adults and the next second they acted as if they were bickering teenagers. They all seemed to know each other very well.

Envy.

Friendship.

He despised it. He missed it.

“Yes! They are funny!” Luffy hummed and looked over to the dining area. “The evening buffet opens soon! I am starving! I want chicken, pork, the lobster…” Law frowned. How could the boy be starving? He had witnessed what the other one devoured for lunch! He shook his head. “Get used to it.” Zorro leaned back in his chair, observing Luffy and Usopp for a moment, before closing his eyes. “Wake me up, when the buffet opens. I wanna get at least some meat before Luffy eats it all!”

Somehow Law got the impression that this was not only a figure of speech but something must have happened in the past. “Oi!” Luffy grinned. “It is not my fault! They should not name it All-You-Can-Eat if they only have a limited amount of food!”

Usopp grinned. Oh god. He remembered the face of the poor cooks and waiters. He pitied them. The way the waiters face had twisted in surprise, disbelief and horror.

“I am pretty certain they did lose a week worth of profit with you. You ate for ten people at least.” “Nami did not have time that evening! I had to eat for her too!” “As if I eat that much!“ Nami scolded him. “Just because you represent the epitome of a glutton!”

Their bickering went forth and back. Somehow, Law felt himself relax more and more. It almost felt, as if the others were not bothered by his presence. “Oi! Torao! Come on, get something to eat with me! Zorro! Wake up!” Luffy did not wait for an answer. He practically ran towards the buffet. It was half amusing, half disgusting to watch. The word gluttonous Nami mentioned before was rather fitting in Laws opinion. As cheerful and happy as Luffy seemed most of the time, considering food he seemed more like a greedy pig. And he ate like one. He chewed with his mouth open, talked while having his mouth half full. It was not exactly a delightful thing to watch and still… Law was amused. Zorro had started to keep up with Luffy’s eating tempo but gave up promptly after. Usopp had overloaded his plate with food. Law had begun to wonder, why the other one had so much food on his plate, when he ate like an almost normal person. He observed Luffy snatching half of the food, so it made sense… Was it a tribute for their friendship? Apparently. Nami was the only one eating and behaving like a proper ordinary, decent and sane person (at least concerning eating behaviors). The only weird thing about her was the force she used to ram the fork into one of Luffy’s fingers, whenever he tried to steal something from her table.

“Get your greasy fingers off my plate! You do not even like fruit salad that much! Oh Law, I hope you are not bothered by these guys behaviors. They got no manners!”

After talking for a while, she had found out, that his name was Law. She had wondered where the Torao was coming from… since on his name tag was written Dr. Trafalgar D. W. L.

“My family had been rather unique too, so do not worry.” Not so greedy, not so animalistic and seeming like starved people fighting over some fiber… but weird in other… places. Luffy sitting next to him, eating like a maniac (and mauling his food in a way, that Law found some pieces of it, on his own plate), was still better than Trebol with the always running gooey nose. Disgusting…

“Oh your family? You mean the man from the picture?”

With a quick swipe of his tongue, Luffy fetched the piece of chicken sticking to his lower lip. Even though he seemed focused on eating, he had watched and observed Law the entire time.

“Yes. Father, well-“ Law tilted his head a little bit. “Adoptive father.” Law loved Corazon, had cherished him … but it still felt inappropriate to say, that Corazon had been his only father. The few memories he had about his blood family. Law was fond of these fragments of happiness and joy.

“Adoptive or not. Family is family.” Nami smiled softly, blue painted nails clicking against the cocktail glass Sanji had brought her. “True!” Luffy grinned. “Who cares who is born by whom, or whose blood is in your veins! Family is what you feel!”

He nodded before shoving another enormous piece of meat into his mouth. If Laws thoughts were not occupied by the family talk, he would probably wonder if Luffy had a gag reflex at all. He was certain, he had seen pieces of non-chewed meat sliding down his throat. “I guess that is one way to put it.”

Law remained quiet for the rest of the dinner. The way Strawhat looked at him, knowingly. There was something powerful in this look. Determination.

“Come Torao! I show you my favorite place!”

Law looked up with a frown. How could the other one be this active and eager again? How did he have this much energy?! Did he not want to relax after such a substantial meal and relax a bit? Law was pretty sure he could a little bulge in his stomach from all the food. But no, apparently the other one did not need to rest.

“Sure.”

One evening. Their deal had been one evening spent together. Just a few more hours and he could crawl back into his cabin again. He just had to survive this evening. Was it what he desired? Isolation. Loneliness. Luffy led the way through dining area. Once again, he was babbling and babbling.

“We are always the last people in the dining area! The others finish their food so quickly! They eat so little.”

“You are the best doctor here! You took care of my friends.”

“Sanji is our friend too now! He cooks awesome food! Nami likes his Cocktails!”

“The old hag is a cool doctor too! Are you two friends?”

“You are our friend now too!”

“Tomorrow you must try the eel! The way Sanji prepares-,“ “What did you say?” Law had ignored most of the things the Strawhat said. Did he mishear him?

“You must try the eel!”

“No, before that.”

“That you belong to us now!” Confusion was written all over Luffy’s face. Law was acting in a bizarre way. It was clear, that he did not want to be alone, so why did he isolate himself? If he wanted friends, why wouldn't he make any? It was not so difficult! “Don’t worry! The others like you, cause I like you. If Zorro is hurt again in training, I can bring him to you, right?”

Law took a deep breath.

“You know I only accepted the invitation because you kept coming every day to my office. This, whatever you believe this is, it is not a friendship.” “It is!” “… How do you think it will work out, after the trip? Only a few days left. You will go to your place again, and I will go to mine. Are you even living in the same city as I am?”

Probably not. Hopefully not. Hopefully yes. No-, he should not get his hopes up.

“Why should distance end a friendship? I am still friends with Vivi! She was in our class for a year! She is now back to Alabasta! And yup! Same city!” “And why do you think, that you know where I live and work?” “Heard the nurses talking! You work in the hospital in the city I live!”

There was it again. The big, knowing grin. It made Laws toes curl in, and his breath accelerate. Big, knowing grin. Threatening. Dangerous. No. The last two things were not fitting. There was no sheer endless row of teeth, no gum revealed. Eyes hidden. Instead, there were warmth and joy. Law sighed. It felt like he was talking to a wall.

“Awesome.” It did not sound honest, but Luffy did not seem to care.

[kiruuuuu]

Echo Chamber Pt 1

The beginning of the Lesion/Echo verse: Lesion convinces Echo to go on a date with him and it’s nothing like he expected. (Rating G, all fluff ♥, ~1.7k words)

.

“A what now?”, Echo asks, incredulous, clutching Yokai for emotional support in case he didn’t mishear. The whole situation is embarrassing enough already, what with the fact he’s got a pretty good idea of what the man in front of him looks like without his clothes now and it’s the kind of thing he could’ve done without knowing, thank you very much.

Lesion’s smile is unwavering, bright and entirely too genuine for someone who caught someone supposedly spying on him only an hour ago – the old man really is shameless after all, too relaxed and having no trouble upholding eye contact where Echo flounders. “A date”, he repeats patiently, “you know? A rendezvous? That seems like adequate compensation to me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” It’s not the worst thing Lesion could demand – after all, he holds a considerable amount of power over him since if word gets out that Echo uses his trusty drone to peep on his fellow operators, it’d be a serious blow to his already shaky reputation of which he’s sure Lesion is aware. However, the thought of going on a date with him is exceedingly weird, especially since they’ve barely interacted in the past. It’s not that Echo dislikes the jovial SDU operator, not at all, he’s always been entertaining even when his sadistic side shows during missions, it’s just… dating him seems absurd.

“Of course I’m kidding.” Lesion grins at him and he almost rolls his eyes – he should’ve expected it, Lesion frequently hangs around with the SAS guys as well as Bandit, so jokes of this nature are far from uncommon. “So, where would you like to go?”

Wait a second. “What do you mean?”

“For our date. Any preferences?”

“But you said -”

“Do you always argue this much when someone offers to take you anywhere you want and pay for everything?”

The bastard is still smiling and Echo can feel himself becoming flustered because it dawns on him the old man is serious after all. “No, but I’m not -”

“Where did you take Ying when you were dating, hm?”

It’s the first time either of the two acknowledges Echo’s romantic entanglement with Lesion’s colleague to each other and it couldn’t have happened at a more inopportune time because Echo can’t help but think Now I’ve seen both of them come and almost drops Yokai on his own foot. “I don’t know, restaurants? To the movies? We went to the zoo once. Oh, and there was this special event where -”

“A theme park? That sounds like a wonderful idea actually, it’s been ages since I’ve been to one. We’re both off duty the day after tomorrow, do you have anything planned for that day yet?”

He does, as a matter of fact. He’s been planning to stay home all day and play video games, order food and take his mind off the job, it’s supposed to be one of those days that restore his energy, let him recharge, clear his head. Visiting a theme park with Lesion of all people sounds exactly like the sort of stress he doesn’t need – even if he has to admit he enjoys roller coasters immensely. It’s off-season, too, no school holidays, it’d be during the week so there would be next to no lines… The more he thinks about it –

“Great. I’ll pick you up in the morning, alright?”

Echo is starting to wonder whether Lesion can read minds. “I didn’t know there were any theme parks nearby”, he voices his next thought out loud and Lesion’s smile grows.

“There aren’t. It’s going to be a day trip.” And with these words and a fucking wink, he leaves. He just. He just walks away without giving Echo the chance to protest or ask what just happened because they went from Did you enjoy the show to Let’s go on a day-long date so fast his head is spinning.

He notices his jaw has dropped at Lesion’s audacity, so he quickly closes his mouth before he ends up yelling something embarrassing into the hallway and turns around to go back to his room and return Yokai to its rightful place.

Come to think of it, he has no idea how it ended up in Lesion’s room in the first place. He certainly didn’t put it there himself.

~*~

Somehow, despite really knowing better, a part of Echo didn’t believe Lesion would actually go through with it. Yet he got up early, showered, had a meagre breakfast in his underwear in front of his computer screen and caught himself pondering his outfit choices as if this was an actual date and he was trying to impress someone. He wasn’t. Still, he’s going out in public so he might as well look his best, right? He brushes his teeth, tames his hair, hums to himself and catches himself pacing restlessly when he’s ready. As if he’s looking forward to this. He isn’t.

Lesion’s car is exactly like he imagined it: tiny, cluttered and old. Echo has to fold himself in half to get in and adjust the seat so his knees don’t come up to his chest but once he’s done all that, it’s kind of cosy. “I bought some food for the drive and coffee if you haven’t had any yet”, Lesion greets him, annoyingly awake and chirpy, let alone suspiciously nice. He’s still insisting that Echo doesn’t spend a penny and when he points out that this was supposed to be a “punishment” of some kind, Lesion just waves his objection aside with a: “Don’t be ridiculous.”

The car ride turns out surprisingly pleasant, even if Lesion is a terrible singer which does nothing to deter him from doing it regardless. As soon as Echo notices that the ancient car radio doesn’t even have the local channels programmed in, he does Lesion the favour while grumbling about old people and technology, somehow amusing Lesion to no end. For most of the drive, Echo plays around on his phone while they chat about everything and nothing like terrible English food, how lucky they are people in the UK drive on the correct side of the road, bits and pieces of their past. Echo is relieved to notice Lesion doesn’t mind his occasionally harsh words even if he happens to disagree – he’s patient, something Echo wouldn’t have expected of him. When they’re nearly there, he’s stir crazy enough to join in as Lesion offers his rendition of Britney Spears and so they arrive giddy and comfortably at ease with each other.

As the day progresses, Echo gets more and more confused.

The theme park is worth its money and chock full of rides that make his adrenaline spike and a childish laugh bubble out of him that he hasn’t heard in a long time, the thrill elating and devoid of the tension, the alertness Echo has become so accustomed to, the dread that accompanies him on missions and that he forces down, channels into cockiness. His joy feels pure and innocent and he genuinely can’t remember when he last allowed himself to not worry about time, not think about all the other things he could be doing, ignore the nagging voice inside that constantly reminds him not to waste the day. But this is not the confusing part.

Lesion is. He continues to baffle him with his generosity, attentiveness and charisma. Echo learns not to point out anything food related anymore because before the words have left his mouth, Lesion has bought it for him and already asks if he wants more despite him not even having tried it yet. Apart from that, he indulges Echo’s every whim, never once complains about going on the same ride five times in a row, makes ridiculous comments about how likely they are to die on each one, even pointing at the children’s rides and listing possible ways to perish with a grave face (“pissing your pants in public – that’d be societal death, almost worse than the real thing”) until Echo almost cries laughing.

He doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t this. It’s almost like spending a day with an old friend, re-discovering mutual interests and enjoying each other’s company, only they’ve never been friends and he’s certain Lesion has some kind of ulterior motive, judging by the way he keeps watching him out of the corner of his eye. Whether he wants to fuck with Echo or something else entirely is not completely clear.

On the way back, Echo dozes off to Lesion humming along to Taylor Swift and is woken up by a gentle touch on his shoulder, a thumb rubbing over the exposed skin on his neck, then knuckles brush his cheek, ticklish, and when fingertips start carding through his hair, he stirs and makes the hand withdraw, stretches and yawns before blinking at Lesion who somehow always regards him with this one specific expression: an open smile, a curious look, almost expectant. Echo realises this was the first time Lesion has touched him deliberately and he doesn’t know how he should feel about the fact he doesn’t mind it.

Still. The confusion stays with him. “What… exactly was this?”, he asks, hesitating, averting his gaze again.

“A good time, I’d hope”, is the cheery reply.

“No, I mean”, Echo starts again and has the feeling Lesion knows exactly what he means. “I don’t get it. This was what you wanted?” Ultimately, what he wants to know is whether their “deal” is concluded.

“Yes”, Lesion says simply. There is more to it. There has to be more. “If you like, we can conclude this date with a kiss?” And before Echo can protest, he leans over a little and offers his cheek.

Well. It’s so little to ask that Echo would feel bad if he refused, so he complies, leans in and – and then there’s movement and Lesion is too fast, plants a kiss right on Echo’s lips and he actually jumps. This wasn’t -

“You drool when you sleep”, Lesion tells him, his smile now of a decidedly smug quality, “it’s cute.”

“Okay. I’m out. Bye.” Echo unfolds himself out of the car as fast as possible and can somehow hear Lesion’s chuckling follow him all the way to his apartment door that he unlocks with burning cheeks.

[choicessa]

Not strong enough (Drake x MC)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake x MC (Elizabeth)

Words: ~2900

Summary: Elizabeth’s night visit to Drake’s room ends with unexpected confessions (takes place in TRR book 1, before Drake and MC ever mentioned having feelings for each other)

Note: This is for the writing prompt no 48: “You make me want things I can’t have” requested by my dearest @angstymarshmallow It is a looot of angst here but I know that your heart secretly loves angsty fics just like mine does so I hope you don’t mind 😭 and I hope you will like it, my dear! ❤️              

Drake knew it was her. He didn’t have to look or check, he just knew. No one else would disturb him at this hour and disrupt his solitude like this. So if there was a person, willing to sneak up on him in the middle of the night – it was only her.

“Drake?” A silent voice asked, the one he knew so well and he smiled to himself, almost involuntarily.

He knew it! Without a word he looked down at the glass he was holding and rocked it, looking how liquid was hitting the walls, threatening of spilling, when he slowly moved it in circles. The question remained what exactly was she doing in his room at this hour?

“Drake?” Voice repeated and he sighed.

Of course she won’t go away… Avoiding people was easy when they actually allowed you on ignoring them and they were quickly leaving you alone. But Elizabeth was a different case. She never let go so easily.

“What are you doing here, Harris? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He asked, still not allowing himself to look at her, his gaze locked on the golden liquid in his glass.

“Look, who’s talking…” Liz snorted with amusement in her voice and Drake sighed, his forehead frowning, when his lips raised in a smirk. Of course. Apparently she was the first person and the only one who always had a prepared comeback and she never let him get away with anything, never allowed for his snarky comments to disrupt her balance. Something that still surprised him sometimes…

“I couldn’t sleep…” She finally admitted, when he remained silent. “So I went for a walk, I thought it might help…” Liz shrugged, although Drake couldn’t see it, with his back still turned to her.

You’re not the only one, Harris… He thought to himself. But probably your reasons are different than mine…

He scolded himself in his mind, ignoring the urge to shake his head. Of course her reasons were different. She wasn’t the one struggling with a strange feeling in his heart, the one he couldn’t mute even with whiskey. Even with huge amount of it. He knew that he was silent for too long and he sighed before finally speaking up.

“A walk, huh?” He repeated, finally turning around and looking at her briefly.

It was meant to be just a glance and yet when he did it once, he wasn’t capable of looking away. Her long hair was tousled, probably still after her interrupted sleep, some of the strands carelessly put behind her ear; she was wearing simple jeans and a black t-shirt, with a warm sweater thrown over her arms, probably protecting her from the chill of the night. He was already used to the sight of her in all those fancy clothes she had to wear during the parties and royal events and he realized that he probably never saw her like that. So casual. She was looking strangely fragile, small and suddenly he felt that really strong and irresistible urge to close her in his arms and hold her close. It took all of his willpower to look back and he clenched his fingers on the glass he was holding. You need to stop those nonsenses, Walker. Get rid of those thoughts. She isn’t yours, never was, never will be.

“And why are you here, now?” He asked, hearing a sigh behind his back.

“I saw that your door was slightly open and… I thought that maybe something happened so… I wanted to check it up…” Her voice trailed off when she suddenly realized that she actually didn’t have any good excuse for coming here. She saw that the lights were turned on inside his room and her legs just carried her here, she never had second thoughts about that until now.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Harris.” He answered, probably a bit too harsh.

He cursed at himself in his mind. If you keep doing that, Walker, you will lose her, you know that? He took another sip of whiskey, realizing that’s what he was always doing. Keeping people at distance, not allowing anyone to get closer to him. Including her. Especially her. But wasn’t that the point? Pushing people away to spare another heartbreak? Pushing her away, even against all of his cravings? Part of him hoped that she will walk away, leave him alone but when he heard a soft steps behind his back he sighed, realizing that it didn’t work. It never worked on her.

“And what about you?” Liz asked, her voice much closer now, when she approached him.

“I couldn’t sleep either.” He murmured.

“And  now you’re drinking without me?” She teased him, with her arms crossed on her chest.

Drake snorted before he took the last sip of whiskey from his glass, collecting his  thoughts before he spoke again.

“Believe me, it is better this way…” He murmured.

“Hey…” Elizabeth came even closer to him, but hesitantly now, almost like she was afraid of being too close at the same time. “Did something happen?”

“Happened? Naah…” He shook his head, looking down at his empty glass. “Nothing happened…”

“Drake…”

“I said I’m fine, okay?” He raised his voice and immediately regretted this. “Sorry, Harris, I just…” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “I guess… I’m trying to say that it’s not the best moment for talking.”

“I think it’s the best time. I know what you’re trying to do, Drake…” She sighed.

“What are you talking about?” He couldn’t continue on ignoring her and  finally he put down his glass, standing up from his chair and coming closer to her.

“All this act, trying to get rid of me… You don’t want me here, I can feel it. But I thought that we finally bonded, made a… connection. And now I just can’t understand why you’re pushing me away. Again.” Elizabeth looked down, suddenly afraid of looking into his eyes, biting her lower lip and waiting for his answer.

She was waiting for him to laugh at her for even thinking that they actually could become friends or… more; she was prepared for him getting angry, irritated by her stupid ramblings; she was sure that it will only make things even worse than they were before but yet she couldn’t help herself. She needed to know why he was pushing her away. She was prepared for pretty much anything but not for this.

“Why?” He repeated, almost like an echo. “Why?” He lowered his voice coming even closer to her.

He was trying to fight it. That craving inside of him, always making him come back to her, no matter what. Sometimes he was feeling like a moth, coming closer to the light, attracted by it in most unexplainable way, when he knew it may hurt him and yet he kept on doing this, not capable of resisting. Just like now, in that very moment when he was approaching her, each step bringing him closer and  closer even though he was ordering his mind to stop. But his limbs didn’t listen, they did what his whole body was craving, crossing the room, just to be closer to her.

“Because you make me want things I can’t have…” Drake said suddenly, finally answering her previous question and Elizabeth felt her heart skipped a beat in her chest when she heard it. That was impossible… She had to be mishearing things…

She swallowed hard, finally raising her gaze and she met the sight of his dark eyes, now almost black in the half-darkened room when he was simply looking at her. Elizabeth could feel the air between them thickening, an unspoken tension filling the room, appearing as soon as those words left his mouth, hanging in the silence.

“Things… Such as?” Liz asked before she had a chance to even rethink it, ask herself if she should say it out loud, her curiosity stronger than the common sense.

Drake didn’t answer at first. His eyes were just wandering all over her face and for a moment Liz thought that she won’t ever get any reply, until he finally took another step towards her and opened his mouth.

“Closing you in my arms…” He said, his voice quiet. “Feeling the warmth of your body when I put my arms around you…” Another step made towards her when Liz was only capable of looking at him with her eyes wide open, almost like she didn’t believe things that he was saying.

“Holding your hands, lacing my fingers with yours, feeling the touch of your skin on mine…” With each sentence he was coming closer and closer, almost like hypnotized, his eyes never leaving hers. “Falling asleep and waking up next to you, your face being the last thing before drifting off to sleep… and the first one to see in the morning… Waking you up with kisses…” His voice trailed off when his gaze slipped to her lips.

Elizabeth was never the one to ever be intimidated by him but… there was something in his eyes that made her took a step back, when she was trying to retreat from his presence though the other part of her wanted to do exactly the opposite thing and close every existing space between them. But soon she realized she had no more space to go. She hit the wall with her back and her palms rested on the cool stone behind her when she dared to raise her eyes to meet the gaze of Drake’s brown orbs being now so close.

“Kissing you…” He added, stopping right in front of her, so close that she felt the warmth emanating from his body pressed to hers when he leaned his left hand against the wall, just next to her cheek. “Leaving trail of kisses over your skin…” He continued, his gaze slipping down, towards her lips and neck and Liz suddenly realized that she is holding her breath, unable to move, unable to even think straight. “Making you breathless, begging me for more… Showing everyone that you are mine…” He raised his right hand and slipped it under her chin, raising her face.

Elizabeth swallowed hard when their eyes met and she couldn’t avoid his gaze anymore. She felt his hand moved to her cheek, when Drake stroke her skin with his thumb, surprisingly gently.

“You have no idea about half of things I would do to you, Harris…” He said, his voice low and hoarse, his thumb now agonizingly slowly stroking her lower lip when his gaze slipped over her face hungrily. “If only I could…”

Perhaps it was all whiskey talking or maybe he was just tired with this constant pretending. But all these confessions, words, left his throat almost effortlessly when he  finally spoke out loud everything what was hiding inside him for so long. When right now, at that moment he finally admitted to things he had been denying so eagerly. He fell for her. Somewhere between their constant meetings at endless parties, common nights spent together on drinking whiskey and all the teasing, they were almost unnoticeably getting closer, opening up to each other more and more, until finally he managed to develop feelings for her. And although he realized it only now, allowed himself to finally admit it, Elizabeth read it all in his eyes, finally understanding everything, all those things between them suddenly becoming crystal clear. And then she understood one more thing. All this time she was craving exactly the same, the same emotions hidden in her heart, suppressed for all this time, denied for so long. She wanted him. She had feelings for him.

“Wishful thinking, huh?” Drake sighed, bringing her back to reality, taking his hand back when his arm fell heavily along his side. “But I guess it did answer your question, so…” He took a step back and turned away when her silent voice stopped him in one place.

“Do it…”

Drake abruptly turned towards her again, for a longer moment just staring, uncertain, afraid that he was mishearing things.

“What?” He asked.

“Do it.” Elizabeth repeated, her voice was quiet like a whisper when those two words left her lips almost involuntarily.

Drake didn’t have to ask to know what she had in mind. For a split of second he saw the same craving in her eyes, the same desire for things they couldn’t have. It vanished almost as soon as it appeared, yet they both knew it was there. Even if just for a moment. Hesitantly he took a step closer towards her, his eyes never leaving hers, his gaze silently asking her for permission. And when Elizabeth’s eyes almost involuntarily slipped down, her sight stopping on his mouth, Drake didn’t hesitate anymore. In a few steps he was in front of her, pinning her to the wall, leaning down, capturing her lips in a kiss. Their matched perfectly, meeting in equally perfect kisses, when his lips moved against hers and Liz could only give in, answering them with no less eagerness. Now that she had known the taste of his kisses, she knew she would never have enough. Drake reached out to her, pulling her closer, one hand on her waist, the other behind her neck when he dipped his fingers into her hair. Elizabeth closed her eyes and melted into his arms, consumed by the kiss. She could only give in to all of this, give in to him, her hands long ago wrapped around his neck, her fingers tucked into strands of his hair, when she wanted to get rid of every existing space between them. His lips were warmer and softer than she ever imagined and yet kissing her almost desperately over and over again, hers responding hungrily when Liz tightened her hold on him. He wanted that moment to last forever, they both wanted it, her body locked in his arms, her hands around his neck and she, warm, soft, melting in his arms, responding to his fervent kisses. And suddenly Drake moved away from her, abruptly, leaving her breathless, her eyes wide open in shock when Elizabeth looked at him questioningly, her fingers almost unconsciously reaching to her own lips, like she had to touch them to believe that this kiss actually happened. Drake was breathing heavily, taking another step away from her, almost like he was afraid that being too close to her can end up badly. That was wrong. That was all wrong…

“Drake…” She whispered and he looked at her, slowly, a faint trace of pain hidden in his eyes.

“You should go, Harris… Before I do something we will both regret later…”

“Drake…”

“Just… go!”

He was clearly torn, conflicting emotions so visible on his face as he tried to control his desire for more. Sorrow mixed in his heart with disbelief that this was really happening, and the craving to keep Elizabeth with him for just an hour, for a few hours, for a day, or maybe forever was slowly beginning to lose with common sense. They couldn’t do it, not here, not now, maybe not ever… There was a silent plea in his eyes, when he was asking her to leave him alone, before he would lose his inner battle again, giving up to the same madness that pushed him towards her every day, again and again. For a moment Elizabeth wanted to ignore it, move towards him, feel his lips again, let him make her breathless again. But seeing his look, so full of pain, she gave up at the last moment. Maybe it wasn’t the best time. Maybe after what had happened they still needed time to understand, to deal with these feelings, so unexpected. Or maybe they simply had to forget that this ever happened and deny the cravings of their hearts… Though it cost her everything, all the remnants of strength that she had, Liz nodded and without a word she left the room, looking at him only once before the door closed behind her.

Drake waited until her footsteps died down in the corridor and, cursing loudly, he grabbed a whiskey glass standing on the table, hurling it against the wall with rage. It broke into hundreds of pieces with a loud bang, and the man looked blankly at the remnants of the glass laying on the floor. Breathing heavily, he clenched his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white. The pain of nails digging into his skin helped him to forget about the pain in his heart, so vivid when Liz was leaving his room just moments ago. She was never supposed to find out about his feelings. Hell, he was never supposed to admit them at the first place. And in this one moment he simply destroyed everything. Because he was weak. Because it was too hard to resist her and now he knew it would be even harder. Because how could he forget about her, now, when the taste of her lips was still fresh on his mouth? How could he move on when he remembered the way her body fitted into his arms? How could he erase her from his mind when the thought of her was the only thing brightening his days?  Drake sighed, looking at the wall, place where she was standing just moments ago, the memory of her still so vivid, the craving of following her still so tempting. He was weak, not strong enough to forget, to deny it; he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from her, to pretend that she means nothing to him.

Not anymore…

[blueinkeddoodle]

Efrain Harris: Mountain Hike

When they say the simplest hello can change life, I never pegged the hello he first threw at me twelve years ago can actually change my life.

Efrain Harris tailed behind his mother as both of them knocked on the door of my new house. His mother and mine have been friends long before fathers came into the picture. So, when she made her way as the first person in the neighborhood to come knocking on our door with blueberry pie in hand two days before the semester began was never a question. He said his hello once and before we knew forever or such term existed, we were the best of friends, impossibly separated.

Efrain became the guy whom I spent my entire childhood with, followed suit into teenage era and now as we barely passed the broken twenty; he still is the guy I spend my early adulthood with. He is the guy whom I spent lots and many more lots of first to come. For example, first mountain hike we ever did.

"You, idiot!" I snapped at his walking figure in urgent.

How can I not when it was two in the morning as we hiked Mount Ijen in complete darkness, bones freezing from the harsh cold temperature and he just had the nerve to fucking leave me alone? Because I was as slow as snail he said. Slow, my ass. "How many times do I have to remind you that not every single one of us have the all-access to the gym for their cardio rep every single morning?"

The sound of his laughter booming through the open space, each burning seconds getting louder. It seemed like he managed to get back where I stopped. The blinding light of the small torch he held spotlighted on me. "See? This is the exact reason why you can never skip your cardio session, love. Trust me when I bombarded your phone at the crack of dawn. It's only for the best of you." He said in very serious tone, but eyes betraying from the glint of mischief.

"Just don't with the pet name." I snarled, snatching the water bottle he was holding.

Just before I got the chance to sit my ass down, both his strong arms pulled me up. How on earth did he do that so easily? Wasn't he the slightest tired? "You'll get dirt on your pants. Besides, it'll take more time to reset as we start again. The trail will get worse but your body will need longer time to manage as much distance as we had just did." I exhaled quite tiredly. He may be an asshole most of the times, but trust him when he threw an advice.

"You really need to tell me if it's getting too hard, or if the burn on your limbs are too much to take. You hear me?" He said after a few seconds passed but I still needed a couple more minutes to even out my breath. I nodded, handing his water back as I got ready to start another walk. "You're... good to go?" He asked, one brow raised in pure curiosity.

"Yeah, let's just get this shit done." A small smirk appeared as I answered him so, a very smirk that announced his pride in me, the kind that said that's my girl. His hand held mine, fingers linking to each other, filling each empty space as if was the spaces made only for him.

A brotherly smile happened next. Something that shouldn't have felt this electrifying, like the burn after fireworks exploding on the bottom of your stomach, causing million of butterflies to create chaotic pitter patter from the clapping of its wings. Efrain is just my lifetime best friend, right? This shouldn't feel like it.

But then again, neither should a simple touch on the palm of my hand cause a havoc in my mind, like the question do you love me he threw carelessly at movie night after he stole your favorite Ben and Jerry's. The answer should be yes, I do in all the glory of best friends who had stuck all their lives together, nothing more.

The hiking trail never got any easier. If the first half was hell, the second half was even worse of hell and demon itself. The harder it got, the louder my whine got. But the fact that he did not complain even for the slightest bit actually warmed my heart.

The first ten minutes, swear to God I thought it had been thirty minutes, went by without my crack of voice. The trail was the hardest at this point. And even the sound of my panting breath was too much to take, let alone the burn I felt on my thighs. "Now that you got too quiet, you're still breathing right?" He cracked a joke.

It was supposed to be a joke, at least I thought it was. But the concern lacing on his eyes said otherwise. His right hand flew to my face fast, cupping my cheek only to see the color almost drained completely. "I'm fine. It's hard to even out my breathing while walking and talking at the same time." I said, shrugging his hand off just as the side of my face warmed up in crimson. It was just warmth from the tip of his hands, right?

He chuckled, "It will be just another round of that hairpin section and we'll get there." He encouraged me, a beautiful megawatt smile shone on the contrary of dark three-in-the-morning sky behind him.

It took us about another half an hour until we reached the place we desired. "I hope this blue fucking fire thing is worth it. I'm not doing two hours worth of walking just to inhale this much amount of sulfur." His laughter rang throughout the crowded crater.

"And here we welcome back the goddess of speech." He remarked, eyes crinkling to crescent from laughing. The same melodic laughter that caught my breath on my throat, heart stopped for millisecond before drumming out far too fast as if it was to burst out of my chest. I swore to God he would've heard that. "Come on, let's get a picture of you. Give me your best smile." He pulled the hand he was holding earlier so that I was standing in front of him a few feet away, where he thought the blue fire would be seen behind me in the photograph. He finally let my hand go for the first time that early morning. "There goes my favorite smile." He commented under his breath, hushed tone, I thought I wasn't supposed to hear that. As I heard multiple shutter sound, my smile got brighter at the thought of what I assumed to be mishearing.

The hour slowly passed by as we took some more pictures of us two. Crack of dawn opened up to not-seen sun rays from down where we were. But the sky went two tone lighter as the greyish mist and green crater made our landscape. It was indeed a beautiful background.

I was munching on my favorite bar of cookies and cream topped chocolate when suddenly he turned all serious in front of me. "I know this is bad timing. You probably still ran out of breath and you must hate me for ruining that favorite winter coat of yours," he said, motioning to the dark grey jacket I was wearing.

"Efrain, in case your hardly-used brain can't load the information I had so many times told you about, but the term people use for this piece of clothing is jacket. It's not winter coat." I deadpanned. "But you're right, I totally despise you for ruining my jacket. This now smells like shit." I cringed my nose in disgust.

"Fine, but you still need to hear me out. You're probably gonna hate me but, be mine?"

"What?"

He groaned out from frustration. This was the first time I had seen someone who confessed his feelings to the girl he loved, yet managed to not looking nervous. God, didn’t I deserve something sweeter? “See this why I hate you so much. You see, we’ve been with each other since we can remember and even if forever is too long to reach out, I’d rather have my own forever to spend with you. And I didn’t just say this because we’ve been friends for so long. But I did it because every time I look into your eyes, I see my future. There has never been a time I imagined my future and you weren’t a part of it.

"You’ve been with me from the time I had my best girlfriend to the worst one. And even the best one still can’t outshine the worst times I had with you. So help me out of this misery and just be mine already.”

I think it hasn’t hit me hardly that time when he confessed. For I didn’t feel the drumming of my heart ricocheting as if it was about to jump out of my chest. I didn’t feel the excitement or fireworks exploding around me. I just felt… warm.

It was the exact feeling when you soak into the bathtub of warm water and the smell of your favorite bathing oil had evaporated after a rough day. Or the feeling when you open your favorite coffee shop and your cup of ginger ale has been waiting. It was like coming to your childhood house on thanksgiving and smelling the turkey roast three houses away. It was like walking into a house and suddenly you’re home.

An unknown smile widened on my face, wide enough to reach from one ear to another. “You know it’s always been a yes, right?”

He pumped his fist in the air. Just as his soft, pink full lips landed on my forehead, there was another set of camera shutter sound. His smile was radiant, like always. The same one that I always see yet never failed to make the thumping on my heart goes crazy. “How’s that thing work?”

“Remotely controlled by my phone. I clicked that.”

Both eyebrows furrowed, even forehead contorted in confusion. “How?”

He rolled his eyes, “Seriously, love?” He asked in disbelief. “By infrared connection, of course. Did you really just ask that question? God, the girl who cracked his own Spotify account. I thought you’d be more tech savvy than that.”

“Shut up. You love me anyway.”

Another radiant, megawatt smile graced his lips. “Technically, I always do love you but right at this moment I just really hate to admit that.”

I would actually not believe if someone had told me the simplest hello can change a life, but right now, I just do. As innocent and as no harm can do as fourth-grader Efrain Harris said hello, I would never thought that he would also be the one to come to love.

Because the truth is, I never know when love really comes to me and I think no one does. For some, they claimed love knocks on their door early in the morning of terrible morning breath and bedhead but I don’t carefully listen to the sound of door knocks. Hell, I don’t even wake up in the morning if someone had been knocking. Because for me, love comes bringing its own key in the hue hour of midnight saying, “Love, you’re home?” As he made his way into my apartment.

I still had yet to decide if love feels like the fluttering of million butterflies on the lower part of my stomach when he smiles or the exploding fireworks as we kissed or the burning sensation that left as our hands touched. Because another time he smiles, I just feel warm or that time when he kissed me that didn’t leave me speechless just a tad bit tingling sensation for another kiss or the other time he held mine and just the itchy greed to never let it go.

But one thing I always knew, I am just glad that it turned out to be him in the end. I always know I love him, in the common sense of two people who spent their lives basically together, but I never knew it would escalated to love like this. But now that it is him, I think I just love how this turns out, for he has seen the worst of me and still manages to believe that the sun shines from my eyes, for these hands he holds and never once he has a doubt to never let them go.

Ending Note (Efrain Harris: Way Back Down)

If you thought the way up to the top of the mountain was hard, well the way back down wasn't any easier. It was around seven when we came down and as I marveled at the scenery around me (a beautiful one at that), I repeatedly asked myself 'would I have done this if it wasn't for the utter darkness around me'. Because seriously, I think I would've given up for I had seen the trail.

His hands casually wrapped around my shoulders that I had to cross my arms in front of my chest so that we still hands in hands. "When did you realize that you like me?" I asked.

"Seriously, like you? Love, I think the word like was an understatement. I never really realized when, because to be honest, I always have loved you and I do. I always knew it'd be you one way or another. Each breakup just put me in perspective that those girls will never be you. I kept comparing them with you, you're the standard. I just kinda realized that I cannot with someone else that's not you."

"Ah, so those series of drop dead gorgeous girls were just distraction? Or the wiser way to say were just transitions media?"

"If you said they're drop dead gorgeous, then how do you define yourself? Because I don't use the word perfect to define the creations of God."

"Stop being so cheesy, you idiot. It's impressive how you manage to only hear the part I described your exes instead of the question I was asking." I complained, to which just another megawatt smile of him was an answer. "So, you just kinda work up your courage from there? To confess? To ask me?"

"Courage? I never had to work the courage for that. I knew you'd take me. You look at me in a very different light than you looked at your exes. I knew you were in love with them, but then I always knew you love me way better."

"God, you're the cockiest guy I've ever found in my life, you know?"

"I know. And you're my favorite girl, the girl of my dream, you know that right?"

I scoffed. "You're so cheesy."

"But you love me." And dear God, yes, I do.

[cakeandpi]

~8.5k words of post-s2 somewhat angsty, mostly fluffy AU. I’m not entirely satisfied with it but also everything I add at this point is more angst than fluff so this is the end product, faults and all.

Unapologetically ignores much of s2 - Tula doesn’t die, the Cave doesn’t blow up, Wally never ceases, and Kaldur doesn’t immediately take back over the team. Kind of an expansion / 'other side’ of this fic.

They barely get there in time.

He skids to a stop, Garth a half-step behind him, as the room opens up. Before him, there’s the team, battered and hurt but alive. Behind them a creature fills most of the room, thrashing and screaming as it’s forced back by bright blue-white light.

The light comes from Tula, standing defiantly between the creature and the team, and Kaldur sucks in a breath as he takes in her state. Her tattoos are glowing, the light of her magic spilling over their boundaries and outlining her body in stark relief. The sight stills his breath and his heart, even as the shivering power in the air makes his bones itch.

There’s no time to be careful with this. Tula doesn’t have time for careful. So he forgoes his waterbearers and slams forward as much raw power as he can muster. He can feel Garth do the same beside him. With any luck, they can give her enough power that she doesn’t have to draw too deeply on her own dwindling resources. If she hasn’t already.

The very idea terrifies him to his core.

The creature Tula's fighting screams, shattering the air. The temple collapses and everything goes dark.

Something grabs his shoulder, shakes him insistently. It's annoying; he's tired and he hurts, can't he rest? Kaldur forces his eyes open so that maybe the shaking will stop.

“Garth?” Kaldur murmurs blearily. Garth’s hair is disheveled, a large bruise spreading across his face, and Kal means to reach up to touch it but something’s not right with his hand. His bones feel about as strong as kelp, and his chest feels hollow and empty after that rush of pure, unrefined power. It had felt like trying to reign in a tidal wave and succeeding.

“Hey, you back with us? Can you sit up?” A hand, gentle and soft, runs over his hair and Kaldur’s eyes slide closed again. His head hurts, and by the dull, distant throbbing from his wrist he’s pretty sure it’s at least sprained, if not broken. Licking his lips, he makes himself murmur a yes and lets Garth pull him into a sitting position, too weak and spent to help. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” The room doesn't spin, for all that it feels like it should. “Tula?”

Garth squeezes his shoulder. “Alive,” he says, and Kaldur exhales in relief, then winces at a fresh stab of pain from his ribs.

Tula’s caught under the rubble, and she doesn’t wake when the team finally frees her. She’s injured badly, and Kaldur clenches one hand uselessly, the other too stiff to move without pain. She’s breathing, albeit weakly, but her skin is deathly shade of pale. His throat is tight the entire short journey back to Atlantis. What if the healers cannot help her? What if she does not know them anymore when she wakes? What if she doesn’t wake?

The healers whisk her away. Others fuss over him and Garth. It feels like hours before they are allowed to see Tula again. He and Garth sit with her through the night, the healers’ insistence that they go home be damned. Tula should have her family around her when she wakes. They aren’t about to leave her side if there’s any other choice.

Late into the night, or early in the morning - it's hard to tell given that neither of them have slept - the king visits. There's little improvement to update him with. Concussions all around, Kaldur with a broken wrist and two cracked ribs, Garth nominally okay but sporting an impressive amount of bruises and only not swimming as if drunk through sheer stubbornness. And then there's Tula's state. None of them are going to be fit for training, let alone combat, for a while.

The king nods, then fixes his gaze on Kaldur. “I need to talk with you privately.” And this is his king, he should not refuse, except that right now he cannot even bring himself to care that he doesn’t care.

“Whatever you have to say, my king, it can either wait until Tula has recovered or it can be said right here and now.” Garth's hand on his back lends him enough strength to make his voice firm, and the king sighs tiredly.

“I apologise for not being entirely forthright with you before, about your parentage. About Black Manta.” That hollow feeling returns with a vengeance, only this time there's no yearning for a lost sense of power. Instead, he thinks that this betrayal might swallow him whole. Kaldur turns his head away as soon as he realizes what the king is talking about. “I did not want you to leave us to go chasing down your father.”

“My father is with my mother in Shayeris.” He whispers, not looking up.

“Calvin and Sha'lain’a are good citizens.” The king comments. “I do not worry about you taking after them.”

The tight ball of worry in his stomach collapses in on itself and sinks impossibly deeper. There's no way his father, the one he's always known, isn't his father. It's impossible and nonsensical and yet. And yet.

Garth tells the king to leave, and if it weren't for the fact that Kaldur was floating somewhere a foot behind and above his own body, he'd scold Garth for his less than respectful tone.

Then solid strong arms wrap tight around him, and Kaldur clutches at Garth as if he were a lifeline. “That doesn't make you his son,” Garth says, his tone firm and fervent. “None of that has to mean one damned thing, okay Kal?” Kaldur tucks his head into Garth's shoulder and tries not to think about anything.

Tula’s color slowly improves and her breathing strengthens, and at some point Kaldur lays his head down on Garth's shoulder and closes his eyes, only for a moment. But he falls asleep anyway, and wakes to Garth resting heavily against him and snoring softly.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” a voice croaks from nearby. Kaldur looks up and grins tiredly at finding Tula watching them, her eyes a bit glazed from pain but aware.

The healers give the okay some hours later and they bring her home so she can be a terrible patient in comfort. And she is a terrible patient, trying to swim rather than drift, forgetting that her arm’s immobilized and trying to do two-handed things anyway, and generally insisting that she is fine and doesn't need fussing over. Kaldur simply hums and nods and stays nearby for when her small bursts of energy fade and she finally allows herself to be helped, while Garth, as the least injured of the three, does his best to get to chores before Tula can notice there was even a need to do them.

Tula is blissfully unaware of what the king had said, and Garth doesn't bring it up, not once. He’s grateful that it is being left alone for now, as if it is not even worth even a simple acknowledgement. Surely, he can continue as he has been, as if nothing has changed? But it grates on him, even as he wishes nothing more than to never have to deal with it. Nothing has changed, not even a little, and yet it’s like one of those child’s games of two very similar pictures where only the smallest, subtlest bits have shifted. Only instead of pictures its his own life.

He waits until Tula recovers enough that she's napping only once a day, then visits his parents. As always, they are delighted to see him, even unannounced, and as always, his mother tells him he's too thin. As always, his father chuckles and tells him can take back to Garth and Tula what he doesn't manage to eat.

It's like everything is normal. He hesitates, here where he used to live, his parents trading idle gossip back and forth. It's familiar and calm and he doesn't want to disturb it. But the king's words echo in his head, and if he tries to ignore it, it'll only bother him more and more.

He cannot avoid this forever. He cannot let his fear petrify him. And yet it feels like he just stepped away from one yawning chasm, when Tula woke with her mind intact, and now he’s about to fling himself over another. Even so, he must ask.

The look his parents share before they even begin to answer his question confirms that the king is not simply mistaken. He's Black Manta's son, and no one had thought to inform him. Were they afraid he would choose a person who wanted to destroy everything he held dear?

His mother's mouth twists, and Kaldur belatedly realizes he said that thought out loud. "No more than we fear the Earth to stop going around the sun, or for the tides to not follow the moon,” his father answers. And that could have been all of it, except…

“I used to work for him.” Kaldur's jaw drops. That's impossible and ridiculous, and yet he knows he didn't mishear his father's words. “I believed in the ideas that David - don't look so shocked, of course he has a name - I believed in what he claimed to be trying to do. Over time it became clear that all he wanted was to destroy King Orin, with his promises of creating a better world simply empty words. I defected.”

“Whereas I was only ever shown a 'simple treasure hunter’,” his mother adds. “I suspected that there was more, but I never pressed for it until, well, I got pregnant with you. And I found that I didn't, after all, like him all that much.”

“Then how -” Kaldur begins before knowing what he wants to ask. “That is, how -”

“’Lain’a was in distress, and I was disillusioned, so we left together.” His father reaches out and covers his wife's hands with his own. “Love didn't come til later, not until you were about ready to join the world. We made the decision to not tell you, in the hopes that you would never need to know. That it would never be something you would have to deal with.”

Kaldur stares at them. He cannot imagine his father as one of Manta's men. He cannot imagine his mother so carefree as to not care what someone did with most of their day. He's jolted from his reverie by his father's words.

“If you… if you don't want me to call you son anymore, I understand.” It's a ridiculous suggestion and he says as much.

“Then who would be my father?” His voice wavers unexpectedly, and he's enveloped in a crushing hug that he returns wholeheartedly.

The king is wrong. Because it doesn't matter who he's related to, that won't override the family he has.

But it does matter.

If he plays it right, it could be a way to swim right into enemy territory and gather information. Information that’s desperately needed, as his team continues to be stymied at every turn by this Light that seems to always be one step ahead. Of course, it could all go south at a moment’s notice too.

He hates thinking like this.

Garth and Tula argue against the idea. Not that he expected them not to, but it makes it harder when the idea already makes his own insides churn and he’s only talking about doing it.

“Shit, Kal, how am I supposed to pretend to believe - and have people believe me - that you're betraying all of us?” Garth demands. “How’s anyone supposed to believe that of you?”

It’s distressingly easy to answer Garth’s last question. “The king already thinks it only a matter of time before I do.”

Garth's eyes go dangerously flat and Tula stiffens in unbridled fury, and for a moment Kaldur almost fears for the king's well being. It is gratifying to see them outraged and furious on his behalf.

He has no answer for Tula’s questions, though. “What are we supposed to do when it comes to a fight?” He shakes his head, and her frown deepens. “Do you really think he won’t make you ‘prove’ yourself by attacking Atlantis, let alone us? Or your team?”

He has no answer, but between the three of them they craft some possibilities. In some ways it’s frustrating, because the longer he waits to put the plan into motion the more he doesn’t want to go through with it at all. In more ways he’s glad they insisted on helping him plan, because once he does leave it’s going to be a long, long time before he feels their arms around him again. It gives him a chance to store up these small moments of Tula’s idle humming, of Garth distractedly playing with his hair - or Tula’s, or trying to with Kaldur’s - while lost in thought. Of them, together, all knees and elbows and kisses and laughter and terrible jokes and even worse puns. He breathes deep and takes it all in against the upcoming famine.

Saying goodbye takes several long, lingering hours that pass by far too quickly. After, he watches Tula and Garth doze, exhausted from the process of saying their goodbyes. Tula’s heart beats steadily under his hand, and Garth’s breath brushes softly over his shoulder. Despite their efforts to tire him, he doesn’t sleep until it’s nearly morning, wanting to be sure he has every detail of them memorized.

---

“Kaldur’ahm!” M’gann greets him, cheerful and bright and energetic as ever in the morning. “How are you doing? Aquaman told us you had been injured, are you well now? How are Garth and Tula?”

Kaldur smiles, amused even through the heavy weight of the plan he’ll be putting into action soon. “I am much improved, thank you. Garth and Tula are doing well, though Tula remains on light duty for the time being. I’m sure they’ll both return to active duty soon.”

M’gann catches him up on the gossip she deems important that he’s missed over the past month. Kaldur half-listens with one ear as they walk to the sparring room, where Conner is doing his best to catch Nightwing. From the sweat drenching Conner’s shirt, they’ve been at it for more than a few minutes. “Stand still!” Conner growls in frustration as Nightwing twists out of range.

“Nope.” Nightwing smirks as he lands on his hands and then flips neatly onto his feet. “Not happening. Unless Kal wants to swap out with me?”

Kaldur shakes his head - his ribs have only recently healed, he doesn’t want to stress them overmuch so soon - and clasps Nightwing’s offered hand. “Another time, perhaps. How have all of you been?”

Conner straightens from his last lunge and brushes off his hands. “Good. Better, now that you’re back.”

“Conner’s right.” Nightwing says. “I know I’m more than ready to go back to following commands rather than giving them.”

The comment isn’t unexpected but Kaldur suppresses a sigh all the same. “I’m sure you are doing fine.” He says, swallowing his irritation. “And the only way to improve is to keep trying.”

“Ugh, you sound like Batman.” Nightwing groans.

“Do not.” Kaldur snorts. “I haven’t asked for a multi-page report on your progress, after all.”

M’gann grins. “He’s got a point.”

“I did, however, want to talk with you about something. All three of you, actually. When you have a moment.”

They are distraught at what he intends to do. What he intends to put himself through. Well, M’gann and Conner are vocal about it. Nightwing is quieter, less insistent, though clearly unhappy. But Kaldur isn’t coming to them for permission, only to inform them because as Tula rightly pointed out, the chance that Black Manta would have him fight his teammates his very high. He doesn’t want to do that without giving them a chance to prepare.

His main regret is not getting to tell Roy. But as entrenched in the Shadows as Roy is in his search for Speedy, it's safer for both of them this way. And at least the team knows, so they can tell him once it's safer.

---

Cleaning up after the Reach’s failed last ditch invasion effort takes time. After a flurry of discussion, most of the disabled magnetic field disruptors are sent into asteroid belt for ‘safe keeping’. One they bring to the Cave for study. Sphere takes an instant disliking to it, and the afternoon Kaldur meant to spend writing up reports on his recently completed mission is instead spent comforting Sphere. And Roy.

“I cannot believe you did that to me.” Roy says, not for the first time.

Kaldur gives him a tired look. “You were searching for Speedy.” He responds mildly.

Roy absently pats Sphere when it nudges against his knee. “Yeah, but you could trust the entire team and not me with the whole ‘hey I’m going to pretend to be evil’ thing?”

“Not the entire team. Only Nightwing and M’gann and Conner.”

“Uh huh.”

Kaldur looks up from the report he’s been trying, and failing, to write. “Roy, I am sorry. Would you have wanted me to put you in more danger by seeking you out and telling you the truth? When you were busy getting elbow deep in the Shadows?”

Roy sighs heavily. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I guess it would’ve been bad, if I had gotten tortured and that slipped out or something.”

“Mm.” Kaldur goes back to his report, but not before nudging Roy’s foot with his own. “You ever wish we had lives where we didn’t have to worry about that sort of thing?”

“What, and be boring?” Roy returns the nudge, and Kaldur smiles to himself. “Though it hasn’t been exactly relaxing, being out of the game. Anyone who says raising a kid’s easy is a liar.”

“How is Lian?”

“Loud.” Roy says without hesitation. “She loves exploring the kitchen cabinets and scaring the shit out of me by hiding in them when I’m not looking. Hasn't figured out how to climb up to the counter yet, thankfully.”

Kaldur laughs. “Practice for when she takes up being a vigilante too, hm?”

“I don’t even want to think about that.” Roy sighs and shakes his head. “I know it’s probably a given, but as far as I’m concerned that can take forever to happen.”

There's a blessed moment of quiet during which Kaldur manages to finish an entire paragraph. Then -

“What about you? Do you ever wish you had a different life?”

“No. Not ever.” Kaldur says. It’s not precisely true - he’s spent plenty of hours wondering what his life might have been like if something had gone differently. There's certainly things he'd like to change, or undo, but not at the risk of the happiness he's found. So it’s true enough.

Sphere beeps at them then. “You’re as bad as Lian, I swear.” Roy mutters. “What is it?”

“You’re in her way.” Superboy leans against the doorway, waving at the two. “Wally and I are back. We’ve disabled those teleporters as best we could.”

“And not the old fashioned, violent way!” Wally calls from the hallway. “Mostly!”

Roy moves so that Sphere can follow Superboy and complain to him about the half-gutted MFD currently residing in their base. “So, you going to take back over the team now? Nightwing keeps making noises about that.”

Kaldur sets his report down and leans back. “Actually. I was going to ask a favor of you.”

“Uh, Kal, you know I love you, but we both know I am not cut out to be a leader.”

Kaldur bites his lip to suppress a grin at the distressed look Roy gives him. He suspects he fails miserably. “Not that. More of just trying to get along with the team and looking in on them now and then for me?”

“And why would you not be able to do that yourself?”

The urge to grin fades. “I… am tired, Roy. I need a break. To that end, I would like to return to Atlantis soon, to rest.” He doesn’t mention that there’s been talk of a trial. There’s nothing either of them could do about such a thing, and so far it has only been talk.

“... How long?”

“I do not know. Ideally, as long as I need. Realistically?” Kaldur shrugs. “Who knows. But I would rest easier knowing that you were keeping an eye on the team.”

“Okay. Okay, fine, I'll do it. I'll make nice and everything, cause it's you. But in return, you are going to come over and meet Lian before you go home.”

Kaldur nudges his foot again. “I’d be delighted to finally meet her.”

---

Lian is adorable, and far from shy. She toddles over to them immediately before the door even closes and demands, “Up!” Roy caves to the demand, pausing in pulling out his wallet to pay the babysitter.

“She’s eaten, and had a nap. I haven’t had a chance yet to wear out her post-nap energy, though, so good luck.” The young woman says, waving goodbye to Lian. “Next week, same time?”

“That would be great.”

Kaldur steps aside so she can leave. “Took forever to find someone that Jade didn’t terrify into quitting.” Roy comments.

“Perhaps we should recruit her to the team then.” Kaldur jokes, earning a scowl from Roy.

“Haha, very funny. You do that, you get to babysit Lian during your sabbatical.”

“That would hardly be an imposition.” He smiles at Lian, who’s looking up at him curiously even as she tries to stuff Roy’s shirt in her mouth.

Soon enough she’s making grabbing motions towards him. Roy gleefully transfers Lian to his hold, and Kaldur stares down at Lian as she stares up at him. “Hello.” He tells her, and she burbles in delight and pats at his gills. “Ah, no, lets not.”

“No!” She repeats. “No.”

“No indeed.” Kaldur agrees, glancing over at Roy, who’s trying to smother - and failing terribly - laughter. He shifts Lian so he can hold her one-handed and presents a less delicate target for her curiosity. “Here.”

It works. The webbing of his fingers fascinates her, and she keeps poking at it and giggling. Eventually, though, she gets bored with his hand and demands to be put down - “Da. Da da da.” - which Kaldur initially mistook as desire to be returned to Roy.

“Hah, no, I am daah, not da. Very different and all.”

“I see,” Kaldur says with fake graveness, kneeling down to set Lian on the floor.

She toddles away, then immediately turns around and comes back. Pats Kaldur’s leg then toddles away again. “She wants you to follow her.” Roy says, not bothering to hide his grin.

Kaldur shakes his head and does as suggested.

A little later, he looks up at the feeling of cold plastic on his neck. “Ah, thank you.” He takes the offered water bottle and drinks half of it immediately.

“Thought you might want it. You’ve been playing with her for an hour.”

“... I did not realize so much time had passed.” He looks down at where Lian has been building, and subsequently destroying, a city made of soft blocks. “She’s nowhere near as loud as you made her out to be.”

“You haven’t been trying to sleep when she decides to be wide awake though.” He sighs as he sits on the beat-up couch nearby, rather than on the floor with Kaldur and Lian. “Hey, you take as much time as you need before you come back. I promise I’ll do my best to get along. At the very least, you won’t have to worry about returning early on my account.” He twists open the cap on his own water bottle.

“On your account? Are you saying you don’t want to see me?” He asks in a light tone.

A prickle of guilt runs through him as Roy startles and spills water on himself. “Uh, no, fuck no, that's not what I-”

“I know.” Kaldur interrupts, reaching over and squeezing Roy's knee gently. He hadn't wanted to distress Roy, only tease him a little. Apparently he needs to work on not sounding so serious. “I know. I would promise to see you, but I also know myself. If I come back up here, and the Team asks me to rejoin, I would talk myself into accepting, ready or not. I will call you, I can promise you that much.”

A damp hand covers his. “I'll be fine. You just focus on taking care of yourself, okay?”

“All right.”

---

Kaldur’s not really sure what he’s going to be greeted with on his return. Some of the things he’s done, he wouldn’t blame Garth nor Tula if they did not want to welcome him back to Atlantis, let alone their home.

He’s not imprisoned on sight, which is something at least. The King must have successfully argued that Kaldur’s activities were done at royal command. It feels like an apology of sorts, one he doesn’t want. He chose to go undercover, he chose to go through with the assignments Black Manta gave him, he chose to attack the very people he was supposed to protect.

He chose, and he doesn’t deserve to be excused for it.

His thoughts are cut short by a body slamming into his. He reacts, grabbing back at his attacker, and twisting about to throw them. It’s wildly unsuccessful and limbs wrap around him. “I am not sorry for surprising you like that.” Tula says into his ear, and he exhales and immediately loosens his grip. Looking up, he finds Garth a short distance away, grinning broadly.

“I could have hurt you, love.” He grumbles, shifting so that he’s holding her instead of trying to pry her off. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, and you could try to hurt me.” Tula pulls back only to lean in to kiss him deeply. “I know what you can do, Kal, but don’t think for a second that I haven’t kept up.”

Garth kicks over to them and drapes his arms over both of them. “Meanwhile I have a healthy respect for both of your ass kicking abilities.” He pecks Kaldur on the lips. Then his cheek. His ear.

“Tease.” Kaldur murmurs, closing his eyes against the emotions stirring inside him. This is far more than he had hoped to return to, when he had left.

“You like it.” Garth chuckles before kissing Kaldur’s mouth thoroughly. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Home. He had not let himself think about going home in nearly a year. He swallows thickly and nods, not trusting his voice to remain steady.

They don’t break apart from him on the swim home, instead crowding up against him so that they have to synchronize their movements in order to get anywhere. It takes a few tries to get started, a misplaced kick here and an overcorrection there sending them out of their intended path and into a wall a time or two. Once it wouldn’t have taken any effort to synch up, and Kaldur reminds himself that they can regain that. Just because he’s not in tune with them right now doesn’t mean he’s lost that forever. And then Tula bumps her hip into his and sends them off course again and he realizes with a start that they’re doing this on purpose.

Neptune, he's missed them.

When they finally arrive home, he feels tension drain out of him. He’d been half-expecting to turn a corner and meet a squad of soldiers, sent to detain him so he could explain his actions of the past year. Not that that still couldn’t happen. But it was pretty rare for people to be dragged out of their own homes. It would be messy, and the Atlantean military preferred to be neat about these things.

“How is everything on the surface? You don’t have to go back very soon?”

Kaldur shakes his head. “Good, and no. For the time being, I am ‘on break’ from the team. Roy has promised to look after them for me, even.”

“Oh? That’s good to hear. We will have to thank Roy for his noble sacrifice.”

“Hopefully not in the same way you ‘thanked’ me the other day.” Garth pokes Tula in the side.

She swats his hand away playfully. “Hah, hardly! Though Kal might enjoy watching. His two favorite redheads, together.” She bats her eyes at him, and Kaldur flushes. What is he supposed to do with that mental image?

“I… don’t think Roy would be up for that. Um.” He hopes not, at least. As… fascinating… as that the idea is, he can’t see the two of them actually getting along like that, not when he and Roy rarely went that far in the first place.

Tula laughs. “I’m just joking, Kal. He’s far too abrasive for my tastes. Nevermind that I have my hands full with just you two. We do have you back for a while, then?”

“I hope so. Though that may change at a moment’s notice.” Kaldur’s smile fades a little, thinking of all the ways missions have gone bad in the past.

“Hey. Kal, hey. Stop worrying for half a second, love?” Tula grabs his hand and tugs him toward their bedroom. “You look like you haven’t slept in days. Rest, relax. You need it.”

“Uh huh.” Kaldur lets himself be tugged. “And just how much resting am I supposed to get with both of you here?”

“As much as you need. No fun for anyone if you have to tap out early, you know.” Tula pulls him down to lie back against her and her fingers lazily scratch through his hair. He lets his eyes close, matches his breathing to hers, and against his every expectation finds it hard to open his eyes again.

“No that we don’t plan to wear you out later. Thoroughly.” Garth’s voice is a low rumble full of promises, his body a warm comforting weight on top of him. If he weren’t so tired, Kaldur would’ve made him make good on those words immediately. He’s still tempted.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

They don’t make good on it immediately. They’re insistent on him actually resting, no hidden meanings implied, and the gleam in Tula’s eye makes him think that this is, perhaps, light revenge for all the bedrest he and Garth had pushed on her, back when she had been so seriously injured.

Two entire days of being shooed away from anything but the lightest chores. It’s endearing, even if he’s also bored out of his mind. There’s only so much sleeping to be done in a day, though, and the exhaustion of the past year cannot be made up so easily. He manages to talk them into going out without him, with promises of doing nothing more strenuous than some mild cooking. He meant it, truly, but he's interrupted halfway through preparing some of their favorite foods. His communicator beeps, sending his heart racing. “Aqualad.” He says into it as he hastily snatches it up, food forgotten.

“Nightwing.” Comes the response. “Hey A, how’s it hanging?”

Kaldur closes his eyes and exhales slowly. From Nightwing’s tone, there’s nothing wrong. No emergency. He rests his back against a wall and tries to draw the cool calm of the ocean into himself. Fails. “I am well.”

“Good. That’s good. We’re missing you up here.”

“So this is a social call?” He’s proud that he manages to keep his voice level and composed. There’s no need to get worked up if his team just wants to chat.

“Ummm…” The hesitance in Nightwing’s voice does nothing to help him relax. His own words to Roy, about having difficulty saying ‘no’, ring in his ears. “Actually. I was going to ask if you could help out a little? It’s just some back-end stuff, nothing strenuous.”

He really does have a problem saying no. He should work on that, one of these days.

Which is how Tula and Garth return home to find him watching a backlog of video surveillance feeds. Tula crosses her arms and fixes him with a stern look. “And just how is that ‘taking a break’?” Garth comes over and kisses his cheek, wrapping his arms around Kaldur’s shoulders.

Kaldur pauses the video and sets the tablet aside. “It is far more restful than going on missions. And might I mention, I have done essentially nothing for the past two days?”

“Hmph.”

“Nightwing asked you, didn’t he?.”

Garth knows him too well.

“He’s a bit overwhelmed.” Kaldur explains. “They’re monitoring several locations, and while the Watchtower’s algorithms are good at flagging potential sensitive data, an actual person still needs to go over the video.”

“Okay, but why you?” Garth asks. His words tickle Kaldur’s gills, and he shifts around so that Garth’s no longer speaking right into his neck. “There’s a billion other people he could have outsourced that task to.”

“The League does not have a billion members,” Kaldur retorts on automatic, and frowns at the look Tula and Garth exchange. “What is it?”

“How long will it take to finish whatever Nightwing has asked you to do?” Tula wants to know. “We had, well, plans. But if this is going to take a while…”

Kaldur blinks, glances at the tablet, then back at Tula. “Plans?”

“A surprise.” Tula smiles at him, and Kaldur’s heart thumps an extra beat, remembering their promise of a few days ago. “But not one that allows for work.”

Garth kisses his ear, which does nothing to help him keep a hold on his composure. “It will be a couple of days before the surprise is ready.”

“Just what sort of surprise is it?”

“Hardly any sort if we tell you, silly.”

---

Finishing up the video logs takes a few days. Putting together a concise report another. Once it’s done he sends it off to Nightwing immediately. He half considers Garth’s comment about a consulting fee, but ultimately dismisses it as rude.

He does silence his communicator for Nightwing.

That project done, and with whatever plans Garth and Tula are forming not ready yet, he doesn’t have an excuse anymore to put off seeing his parents.

His limbs feel like lead the entire trip there. His parents would have certainly heard of his ‘betrayal’ long before now. He’s not really looking forward to hearing their opinions on how he’s spent the past year. He makes himself go anyway.

His father envelopes him in a hug before he even crosses the threshold into their home. “My boy,” is all he gets out, all hoarse and strangled, like seaweed has choked up his throat. Kaldur returns the hold, not quite shaking but close to it.

Another set of arms close around him - mother. “Kaldur’ahm.” Her voice wavers.

“I’m home.” He whispers.

---

As usual, he leaves his parents’ place with a full stomach, a bounty of food, and a lighter heart.

---

Tula is entranced by something when he arrives home. She does not greet him or even glance at him as he puts away his parents’ cooking, and does not move as he comes up behind her. “Weather patterns? In the Pacific?”

Tula jumps and gasps and Kaldur kicks back just a little to give her space. “Kaldur! I didn’t realize you were back.”

“I have been for a few minutes.”

“Huh!” She hastily grabs the tablet that had been sent floating away when she jumped and turns the screen off. “You’re going to ruin your surprise that way, you know.”

“Hmm. Is it perhaps a trip somewhere?” He clasps his hands behind him, clearly unable to grab the tablet and gather more details.

“Maybe,” she allows. “How’re your parents?”

“Good. They say hello and sent enough food to feed a small army.”

“Excellent, we’ll be fed for, oh, an hour.” Tula grins and kicks forward to kiss him lightly. “Is that okay, if it's a trip somewhere? Or we could stay here at home. Whichever you like better.”

“As long as it is with the two of you.”

Tula grins and tosses her head. “Trying to flatter me to get more details, are you? Well, it won't work.”

He brings his head in close, to nuzzle against her cheek. “I thought, maybe if I asked really nicely.” She gasps when he gives her ear a soft nibble.

“Kal…” Her hands come up to rest on his shoulders. “I'm well trained in withstanding interrogation, you know.”

“Hmm.” He pulls back to look at her. Her eyes are sparkling, playful, like the light tone in her voice. He unclasps his hands to pull her body flush against his. “I’m told I can be very persuasive.”

“Oh my. And who told you that?”

“This redhead I know. Goes by Aquagirl sometimes. Hangs out with Tempest and Aqualad. Maybe you know her?”

Tula places a hand on her chest, faking shock. “You have another redhead? Wow, Kaldur. Maybe I should be the one getting you to talk.”

“You could try.”

---

He doesn't actually manage to get more details, which is perfectly fine. He does get the chance to show off just how rested he is.

---

“You two didn’t wait for me.” Garth whines. Kaldur doesn’t even crack open an eye, just reaches out and grabs Garth and yanks him close.

“Then next time get home sooner.” He tells him.

---

“Oh, wow.” Kaldur shields his eyes against the glare of the sun off the water. Up ahead, there’s a pristine beach, with a forest full of various flowering plants beyond the sand dunes. Off to the side a cliff rises, with deep enough water clear of dangerous rocks to make for good diving.

“The place is uninhabited, by the way. Too small for people to bother with.” Tula says. “Good surprise, huh?”

“Yes.” His feet tickle, and he looks down. A crab crawls across his toes and away, and he can see the tiny divots it leaves in the sand under the waist deep water. “How did you ever find this place?”

“Luck.” Garth steps over the crab and close to Kaldur. “Got lost on my way home from a mission, one time. Found this place. Rested here for a bit before actually going home.”

“How did you get lost?”

“Oh, that’s a good one.” Tula comments with a laugh, moving onward to the beach.

“I was… drugged. During that mission. It had not quite worn off by the end of it, but I just wanted to go home. I could walk and swim well enough again, but my sense of direction, well. That was still a bit shot.”

Kaldur snorts. “Didn’t keep up with your jellyfish toxin resistance, did you?”

“Nope!” Garth grins at him like it was some bit of childish foolishness that he’d been involved in, and then waggles his eyebrows. Kaldur can’t figure out why Garth thinks that’s enticing. Probably because every time, Kaldur winds up kissing him.

This time’s no different.

“Never built up a resistance to you either.” Garth adds as the kiss breaks, murmuring it against his lips. “You hungry or anything? We did have a long swim out here.”

“Not really.” Kaldur smiles and drapes his arms over Garth’s shoulders. “I’m feeling rather well rested, actually.”

“Ah?”

“Mhm. And the two of you have promise to keep, doesn’t you?”

“Indeed.” Garth smiles broadly and kisses him again.

---

It’s a good, long, tiring two weeks before they return to their home in Atlantis.

---

Work has piled up in their absence. Tula has to go back to it almost immediately, as a specialist for the Atlantean military, while Garth gets to ease his way back into his teaching duties at the Conservatory of Sorcery.

Kaldur, on the other hand, had made his work mainly with the team. Beyond taking over most of the daily chores, there’s little lined up for him to do. Toying with his communicator, he thinks about unsilencing it. About asking if Nightwing needs more lighter backend work done. But that would probably make Roy upset with him.

Speaking of -

“You actually called.” Roy’s sounds pleased. In the background, he can distantly hear Lian laughing.

“I did promise, Roy.”

“You also once promised me that you didn’t eat fish.”

Kaldur laughs. “All I had said was that it was not in my diet. Which was true at the time.”

“... I do not believe you. I refuse to believe that you, of all people, go on diets.”

“Not like what you mean.”

“Please explain.”

“Ah, it has to do with building drug resistances. Eating fish interacts badly with the treatments, but it’s only something to avoid for a week before and after. And the treatment only has to be updated every few years.”

“You -”

“It is not my fault you took that as a long-term literal thing. As if I’d survive on kelp alone for long.”

“You aren’t fucking with me, are you?”

“Not in the least. Most people don’t keep up with it after their stint in the military.”

“Well shit. Okay. Tell me next time you and Tula and Garth are doing that, so I don’t accidentally poison you three or whatever.”

“So long as it’s not accidental.”

“Hilarious. How’re your better halves doing? They aren’t letting you overwork yourself, are they?”

“They are doing well. And it's quite the opposite. I’ve actually discovered retirement is rather boring.”

Roy cackles. “Well, you are always welcome to babysit Lian if you get tired of being bored. And knowing you, you’ll probably find something to occupy your time soon enough.”

---

Sometimes, he wishes Roy wasn’t so good about being right in unexpected ways.

---

“So.” Tula sits sandwiched between the two of them, her fingers intertwined with his and Garth’s into one big knot. “So.”

“You know we’ve got your back, whatever you decide.”

Tula’s grip tightens painfully. “Yeah, I know that. But it’s also not the same as you wanting to go through with this. I don’t want there to be resentment, or whatever, later.”

Kaldur carefully extracts a hand from the pile and wraps an arm over her shoulders. “I want you to be happy,” and he’s expecting the way she looks at him with narrowed suspicious eyes. Yes, the final decision is hers in the end, but just reiterating that when she’s asked for their input is the easy way out. That doesn’t mean it’s not difficult to put his feelings into words. “And … I think - no, I would like this. Now, or later, whichever. But, to be honest, I’m kind of terrified.” A lot terrified. But he's been terrified and out of his depth before. He'll survive. “And I’d still be happy, here, with the two of you, if you decided you never wanted this, Tula.”

“Won’t this affect your work, though?” Garth asks.

“Mm.” She relaxes her fingers some. “A little bit? A good seventy percent of what I do is focused on either tactical use of the mystic arts, or paperwork. That wouldn’t need to change for months. I would have to put aside working with the team much sooner in comparison.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I… think so.”

Kaldur squeezes her shoulder gently. “You don’t have to go through with it right now. We can always come back to this.”

“True. But the work we do with the team, as vigilantes, is dangerous. Very dangerous. If we wait, and then something happens to one of you… or both of you… I…” Her voice chokes up.

“Don’t think like that.” Garth leans in, resting his forehead against hers. “You don’t want us to resent anything. We don’t want you to, either. Don’t use that to talk yourself into this.”

“I’m not talking myself into anything. Just…” Tula sighs and shakes her head. “You haven’t said what you want.”

Garth makes a face and sits back. “I… don’t know? Kids have never been something I’ve strongly wanted or not wanted? Honest.”

“Well then.” Tula looks at the two of them. “I do want kids. Or a kid. I don’t know about more than one. As for now… hm. The world is relatively at peace for the moment. And all three of us here, together. So why not now?”

“You’re sure?”

“Mm. I mean, if I wasn’t already, well. Then it’d be different?”

“We’ll need a bigger place, then.”

---

Between finding a new place, getting co-opted into rescue efforts for ocean-related disasters (he remembers once complaining of boredom - he will not jinx himself that way again), consulting with Aquaman on what he’d learned of Black Manta’s operations, the months fly by. He never manages to get a hold of Roy long enough to tell him the news, because every time he tries something comes up on one of their ends. He supposes he could relay the news via the team, but this wasn’t something he wanted Roy to find out about second-hand.

He honestly, truly, did not mean to leave it for so long.

---

Small. So small. Had he ever been that small? Kaldur supposes he must have been, at one point, but he cannot even begin to imagine such a thing. And yet, here, small enough to easily fit into the crook of Tula’s arms, are his kids. Tula’s and Garth’s and his.

He traces a finger down one of their cheeks, barely daring to touch them. “Wow. Oh, wow.” Tula grins at him.

“Come on, Kal. They won’t break.” Carefully, she shifts one over into his arms. A moment later, Garth’s holding the other. “See?”

“It’s just. They’re so small.” Garth says, echoing Kaldur’s thoughts.

“Average sized for twins, actually, the healer said.” Tula says, drifting back down to rest. “They’ve got your gills, Kaldur.”

“Yes.” Kaldur smiles down at the infant - theirs, Neptune, he can’t get over that - in his arms. “Think they’ll have Garth’s eyes?” Right now their irises are as dark as the ocean deeps. It will be a few days before color settles in.

“Beautiful, no matter what.” Garth curls up between Tula and Kaldur. “Now we really need to decide on names, huh?”

“For sure. And find time to -” Kaldur begins, and then freezes with a sudden, horrifying realization.

“What is it?”

Kaldur looks from Tula to Garth back to Tula. “I forgot to tell Roy about any of this.” He’s a dead man. Roy’s going to find a way to murder him via comm.

Tula and Garth exchange a glance, then look back at him. “Well, I highly doubt he will actually murder you,” Garth says dryly. Kaldur closes his mouth with a click as he realizes he’d said those words out loud. “Would be rather hard for him to meet these two, if he did.”

“Mm. Why don’t you go ahead and call him?” She shushes him when he starts to protest, taking the infant back from him. “Bring the tablet in here so he can meet them.”

---

“You what?!” Roy yelps, and Kaldur’s glad he decided to break the news away from where Tula’s resting. “You’re shitting me. No, no, you don’t pull crap like that. You’re fucking serious? Oh my god you’re fucking serious.”

It’s kind of hilarious that Roy’s in more denial over this than he ever was.

“I’m very serious.” Kaldur replies, not bothering to hide the smile that won’t go away. “I… might be longer than I thought, returning to the team.”

“If you return one millisecond earlier than you absolutely must -”

“I have zero intention of doing so. The team, and the work they do, is important. But this is more so.” Kaldur interrupts. “Also, Tula would strangle me.”

“No she wouldn’t.” Roy snorts. “But I would help, if she did.”

“I don’t doubt it. Now, do you want to see them?”

“Fuck yes, how could you even think otherwise?”

---

For all that he’s thousands of miles away, Roy is appropriately mesmerized by the babies, leaning forward as if that’d make the picture bigger. “Wow. From being team-dad to being an actual dad. I’m impressed.”

Kaldur glances sidelong at the screen and smirks. He can almost see Roy’s dawning realization of the opening he left in slow motion. “Hi impressed, I’m Kaldur.”

“I regret ever introducing you to memes.”

---

“How have you three not decided on names yet? Fucking shit.”

“Language.”

“Garth they are too small to understand -”

“Between the three of us, we’ve got… what, four different naming traditions? It’s hard to find names that hit the important parts and sound nice.”

“I bet you guys end up with at least one water-themed name.”

“Just because we’re Atlantean -”

“And go by Aqualad and Aquagirl and Tempest.”

“Okay, Speedy.”

“… That was a low blow. See if I impart any parenting experience to you.”

“They have like, six grandparents. Lots of readily available advice.”

“You know the team will adopt them on sight. They already did with Lian.”

“I’m sure they will.”

---

La’gaan visits and scolds them for keeping this to himself and immediately calls M’gann to share the news. He can hear M’gann shriek over the call from the next room, and Kaldur winces at the volume.

“That’s … a rather long time.” Nightwing comments on it maybe taking two years before visiting the surface with kids would be an option. He can hear the unstated criticism in Nightwing's words, the 'you were never meant to be gone that long’. It's difficult to silence the sour words he wants to give voice to. Tula squeezing his shoulder helps him refocus. Roy's firm response helps him let go of the sourness.

“Who is who’s?” Raquel asks, setting off a flurry of confusion.

“They are ours?” Garth responds slowly, unsure of exactly what he’s answering.

“What does she mean?” Tula whispers as Artemis attempts to clarify. “Aren’t there surfacers with more than two parents?”

Kaldur frowns, his brow wrinkling, pitting the question against everything he’s learned of the surface over the years. “My only guess is that this is not how they are used to things working.” He offers at last. “That, or our biology differs more than I thought.”

“Huh!” Artemis leans back, clearly intrigued by the idea, when Kaldur finally answers her in English. “We’ll have to compare notes sometime.” He hopes she’s not actually serious. He has incredibly little interest in the science she’s studying.

The call ends a few minutes with several promises to do better about staying in contact, and La’gaan himself leaves soon after.

“I don’t think we’re going to have a problem with babysitters,” Garth chuckles. “Ah, such a strong grip! You’re going to be a great fighter, yes you are.” He grins down at the baby he’s holding, who just blinks up at him with light purple eyes, absently holding onto one of Garth’s fingers. “Yes, little terrors, the scourges of the seven seas.”

Kaldur looks over and smiles fondly. For all of Garth’s ambivalence from months ago, he’s rarely not holding one of the babies. Tula has the other just now, ducking away to catch a nap. He wraps an arm across his shoulders and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Hopefully not for a few years.”