#operation: hounds slumber

[cutebat]

Batgirl Reader (Updated Info)

Happy New Years everyone!!

I thought that maybe since it was the new years, I decided to give Batgirl Reader a new look and a bit of new lore... 👀

Please do NOT steal my art!!

Real Name: Y/N L/N

Main Alias: Batgirl

Other Aliases:

Witch's Child

검은 눈의 괴물 (Black Eyed Monster)

Umibōzu's daughter

Batsie Baby

Relatives:

Deceased Father

Deceased Mother

Deceased Unborn Brother

Lady Shiva (Caretaker)

Miss Wells (Second Caretaker)

Bruce Wayne (Adoptive Father)

Selina Kyle (Self Proclaimed Mommy)

Kate Kane (Adopted Aunt)

Dick Grayson (Adoptive Older Brother)

Jason Todd (Adoptive Older Brother)

Tim Drake (Adoptive Older Brother)

Damian Wayne (Adoptive Older Brother)

Duke Thomas (Adoptive Older Brother)

Cassandra Cain (Adoptive Older Sister)

“Close Allies”:

Batsie (Best Friend)

Matcha (Childhood Friend)

Deathstroke (Trainer)

Talia Al Gaul

Ace the Bat Hound (Pet)

Azrael (Trainer)

Alfred Pennyworth

Barbara Gordon

Jim Gordon

Stephanie Brown

Helena Bertinelli

Luke Fox

Lucius Fox

Harper Row

Harley Quinn (Sometimes)

Affiliation:

Batman Family

Batgirls

Outsiders

Gotham Knights

League of Assassins (Formerly)

Suicide Squad (Frequently)

Base Of Operations: Gotham City

Alignment: Good

Identity: Secret Identity

Citizenship: Any Asian nationality (Yes, batgirl is going to be Asian cause I'm Asian)

Marital Status: Single

Occupation(s):

Vigilante

Elementary Student

Gender: Female

Height: Around 124 cm (4 ft)

Weight: Same weight as an average child

Eyes: Black

Hair: Black

Abilities:

Dancing: Y/N learned how to dance from her childhood friend, Matcha. She would watch her movements of classical ballet and follow them.

Hacking: Just like Oracle, Batgirl has great skills with computers. She learned how to hack things when she was gifted her first computer for her third birthday. She could go through any high officials' data files.

Marital Arts: Y/N does have great marital arts despite her being so young, but she's still learning.

Mithridatism: Batgirl can take any sort of poison whether it's deadly or not. She trained to take one spoonful of poison as her training during her training years.

Stealth: She can pull off any disappearing acts on any other people. Enemies and civilians.

Gadgets:

Ribbon Wand: Because she does dancing, it won't complete it without a ribbon wand. Y/N received it from Batman when she told him about her experience with dancing and how she wanted her own ribbon wand one day. The ribbon is strong enough to break a person's neck.

Batarang: These devices are Bat-shaped, throwing weapons usually used to disorientate enemies, and are a ranged substitute for often carrying multiple Batarangs on her person while on patrol.

Grapple Gun: Batgirl frequently uses a grappling gun not unlike that used by Batman. This device fires a strong cable that latches onto a surface and winches Y/N up. She commonly uses this device while patrolling urban rooftops.

Bo Staff: Y/N uses these as a substitute weapon whenever she "forgot" to bring the equipment that Batman provided for her. The bo staff she has was a gift from Deathstroke.

Pocket Knife: Only used it for training, but she is scared to use it on anyone because it could "really hurt them".

Likes:

Batsie (Her bat plush)

The gifts she receives from Matcha

Dress Ups

Shopping

Money

Family Trips

Slumber Parties

Tea Parties

Alfred’s Sweets

Romance Stories

Reading and writing in her secret diary

Dislikes:

Uncomfortable clothing

Chores

Studying

Nightmares

Stress

Thunderstorms

Bruce’s lectures

Lady Shiva and Deathstroke's training methods

Backstory:

There were two different people from different leagues who were rivals since the first ever year. The couple were in love and conceived a child, which was a baby girl who they named Y/N. However, the two leagues found about their secret affair that made the mother's father kill her husband. After she found out about the murder, the mother decided to go after her father and kill him the exact same way, but more painful and slower. This caused the mother to be sentenced to death while she was pregnant with Y/N's little brother, which made her give away her infant daughter to her trusted friend, Lady Shiva. Before her mother was executed, she gave Y/N a handmade stuffed animal that is a purple bat. She named her new best friend, Batsie.

As Y/N was sent to live under Lady Shiva's roof, she was forced to train, study, and do many chores while she was still three years old along with Deathstroke. However, she had an actual human friend named Matcha who helped her show off what the woman who was taking care of her about her true colors by making the young girl into a perfect weapon and helped her escape right after that.

When Y/N was four, she arrived at Gotham City and was wandering around before she arrived at an orphanage building where she was greeted by a woman who was called Miss Wells. Ever since then, she learned how the world was like and lived there before a man named Bruce Wayne came in and brought her to his home, which will be her new life.

[viatrixtravels-a]

!! WARNING: this post contains dark content including mentions of blood and character death !!

Everything written italics and indented was sent to me by an Anon. I enjoyed reading through it so much, I wanted to make a proper post out of it. This also allows me to insert a read more because it is incredibly long.

Everything went well for you. Thanks to Cloud Retainer, you were able to meet Aether. Well... for a moment at least... So you decide to go to sleep.

"Goodnight, Paimon."

"Mmh, goodnight, Traveler! Sweet dreams!"

Closing her eyes, the blonde drifted off into a deep slumber...However, her dream would end up being anything but sweet.

***

You awaken in a strange place. You look around and you see people. A crowd of people. Possibly in the thousands. All looking at you. Among the people was a familiar face. Standing guard alongside his comrades adorned in clear white ornate armour. The mask that once covered half his face absent. The stars he had for irises flickering alongside the rest of his people. You then hear "The Descender has come" The voice coming from an important looking person wearing a crown. A king perhaps.

(Descender...? What do they mean by that? Are they talking about me...?)

With her brows furrowed, Lumine took a step forward.

You wander around the place. It's unlike any place you've seen before. Horseless carriages are driven by engines of fire. Buildings that made those in Fontiane look primitive. The sky... Well, there is no sky but rather a rocky 'ceiling' with light bursting through. A huge mechanical worm -like creature burrowing around. You see... Ruin Gu- No Field Tillers playing with children and giving them flowers and even a mechanical crab that is being operated on. All around the people were enjoying their day to day lives. The feeling of freedom from the gaze of the heavens is a bliss that is unlike any other It seems that the serenity will last forever.

(What a strange place...It is unlike anything I have seen in Teyvat, or any of the other Worlds my brother and I visited prior to our encounter with the Unknown God...)

*Doom has come...* All of a sudden... the same place you emerged from. A rift had formed, bursting through reality and what came forth were Abyssal Hounds. Countless numbers of them bringing forth the dark power from beyond this world. Turning once noble warriors into shadowy husks. Imprisoning them in their own armour and corrupting their minds to become mindless slaves of the Abyss. There was no mercy... people were felled by the very warriors that swore to protect them and were being slaughtered or were devoured by the hounds. Such a grizzly sight as you see a young woman get ripped apart by some hounds. And yet there are those who resisted. That familiar blonde haired Knight with his most loyal men, fought fiercely as they slew both their own former comrades and any Hounds that came their way. The Field Tillers now turned war machines, unleash their firepower on their Abyssal Foes but in turn leaving a wake of destruction on the people and the city. As you look around the great cataclysm, you could only feel sorrow, pity, and sadness as you see the familiar blonde haired knight grasping a dying comrade. Did these people really deserve all of this? Did they deserve to be destroyed for unleashing great evils on this world by accident?

It all happened so fast, the blonde barely had any time to react. Of course - being the seasoned warrior she is - Lumine had immediately pulled her own sword to help fend off those Rifthounds, but it was to no avail. It was as if her attacks could not even land and instead the silhouette of her sword simply went right through them without dealing any damage.

(No...No, no, no...!! This can't be...! What is happening!? Why is this happening...!?)

*FLASH!* A bright light. You look into its direction and you can just make it out. Seven figures. Seven Dieties standing firm on the now helpless city and nation as more and more Abyssal Creatures pour from the rift. You can also make out one particular figure. The one that took your brother away. She conjures familiar looking cubes down as she commands the other dieties to bring an end to this madness. The archs of lightning that slice anything in it's Path. The Tidal Wave that washes and drowns away the sins. The Fire that purifies and destroys all its path. The Malestrom that blows away mountains. And the rock that brings order and judgement on all evil. Perhaps to save this world, this nation must be sacrificed. Perhaps that is why God has abandoned its people to a terrible fate. For Teyvat to survive, this nation will have to fall. And now you see the aftermath. All that's left of the wonderful city... a river of magma and fire... the ground caved in. Those familiar cubes... going into the center of the destruction. You can only cry and go down on your knees. You feel weak...

(Please...Make it stop...This is just too muchー!)

A voice. "Lumine" It's coming from behind. You turn around to see... Aether. You blink and now you find yourself in an empty plain with the moon shining in the sky. You walk towards Aether. "You still have time" Aether says "You can still save this world, Lumine. For me and for everyone you hold dear" He then walks to you and holds your hand. "Only you... can stop him..."

She shook her head in disbelief, squeezing her brother's hand. "No, Aether. Don't say that. We've always fought together, haven't we? In that case, why not this time? I don't know who this 'he' is you are referring to, but I'm sure that if we work togeーー"

Before Lumine could finish her sentence, she was once again blinded by a bright light. *FLASH!* Aether is gone. In fact you got transported to... Liyue? Yeah this is Liyue harbor. But there's something wrong. The buildings are all ruined and on fire. The streets are filled with rubble and are cracked. There are bodies. Bodies of both Millileth Soldiers and Liyue Citizens alike. All of them are horribly mutilated with their own blood spilling into the streets. Among the fallen are familiar faces. You see Chef Mao carrying a lifeless Xiangling in his arms. Crying all the way through. Gaming had been crushed by fallen debris while you see Qiqi telling a deceased Baizhu to "wake up". Yelan's body was found next. Pierced by multiple arrows from her own bow and shortly after you see Yun Jin, Chongyun, Xinqiu and Xinyan. All of which were killed in certain ways.

The blonde felt her heart drop and stomach turn as she clapsed one hand on top of her mouth just to prevent herself from throwing up on the spot.

"Lu...mine" You look down to see a dying Hu Tao grab at your ankle. "We... failed. We couldn't... stop him..." You try to help her out but her breaths become weaker until... her heart stops... and she goes limp.

(Him? Who is 'him'...? Who could be so cruel to do all of this?)

Why is this happening? Why first Khaenri'ah and now Liyue? What was going on?! Who was 'him'?! You want to find out but not before seeing more people you recognize fallen. Keqing had her throat slit. Her dead eyes staring ahead into nothing. Beidou had went down with the Alcor but Kazuha was now hanging on a rope. Ningguang was left alive however, although she's been tied on top of the Jade Chamber while being tortured into seeing Liyue fall. Xianyun was kneeling in sorrow and pain as she held the bodies of Ganyu and Shenhe.

Lumine was on the brink of having a full panic attack, her breathing increased as she clutched her chest while praying that all of this would soon end.

"Everyone...They're..."

No.

Not everyone. There was stillーー

You hear fighting! And you hear a familiar voice. It's Xiao! It has to be! You run around to see where he was and finally found him at the docks fighting some Abyss Heralds. He manages to slay a few of them but gets injured in the process. He kills one more but then... his lance was shattered and he got stabbed in the abdomen.

"Xiao...!!"

There is no way. Xiao was strong. He would never fall to that scum of the Abyss. He falls to the ground as you run towards him. "I am... sorry Lumine" You try to make sense of what he's saying but he then grabs your hand. "We couldn't save this world... from destruction" He goes limp... At first you feel sadness but then anger as you want to kill the Abyss Heralds but then your attention is drawn upward to the sky. There are multiple rifts and like before, rifthounds are pouring through and there you can see... Zhongli.

(Zhongli...!?)

"Zhongli...! How did this happen!? How could you let this happen!? The people of Liyue, they've all been...!!"

It was then that she realized that something was off. He was not moving nor reacting to her words. No, this was not the Zhongli she knew. He too had fallen victim to this mysterious entity which had turned Liyue into a sea of blood. He was floating but almost by force and he appeared to be paralysed as he couldn't move. In front of him was a dark cloud coming from one of the holes. Zhongli was trying everything he can to move but he can't, and then suddenly. Something comes out of his chest. Was that the Geo Gnosis? It had to be. Cause nothing else looked like that. The Gnosis went into the cloud and Zhongli then disappeared into golden mist which was absorbed by the cloud. Dark eyes from the cloud now look to you. "What was taken from me... Will be mine once more..." A voice came from the cloud. It was pure evil. You are dragged forward towards the cloud by an invisible force. You try to break free but you can't.

"Ugh...! Let me...go...Ah!"

As you are forced forward, you see not only the Geo Gnosis but all the other Gnosises. Lined up next to each other. "My power will be mine once more..." "The Usurper... will... pay..."

It was then that Lumine jolted awake, her body drenched in sweat and breathing heavy. She was in her room at Wangshu Inn - where she would always stay during the Lantern Rite. Everything was back to normal, but those horrid images were still very vivid inside her mind.

"Haah, haah..."

"Nn...Lumine...? What's wroー"

In an instant, she threw her blanket aside and dashed out of the room - not even bothering to put on her boots or get properly dressed despite the temperature being quite cold at night during this time of year.

"Lumine!? Hey...!! Where are you going!?"

She just ran and ran and ran, not even knowing where she was headed. Little pebbles and branches dug into the skin of her bare feet, scratching them up. However, she could not even feel the physical pain over the aching over her heart.

"...Ah!"

Suddenly she tripped, falling face first against the ground before remaining completely unmoving for a while.

"..."

After curling up into a small ball, she cried into the night sky, letting all of it out.

"Aaah...Aaaaah....!!"

[kuwdora]

first lines meme

I’ve been tagged by @sassaffrassa a million years ago.

Rules:  Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

Oh, I tend to try and evoke as much mood/tone in the first sentence as possible for my one-shots and chapter fics. My ficlets and drabbles I try to go straight for the action. Usually.

The Hare and the Heart

Witcher Wild Hunt | Weavess & Ciri | Explicit | dreams and nightmares. Dead Dove. | ~2500w

The memory-inside-a-dream is full of nostalgia, it’s a delicious taste of stomach acid tingling in her mouth.

heroics and guitar breaks

TWN | Geralt/Jaskier | G | fluff. modern au, 1300w

“I’m going to do it hard and fast,” Geralt said.

Transplanted Heart (Uprooted Remix)

TWN | Eskel/Geralt | Explicit | Leshen Eskel, canon divergent show/book AU ~2k | WIP

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, let alone see you like this,” Maja said, eyeing him with a combination of sympathy and fascination. Eskel was no longer the witcher she had lain with. He was a mutated leshen with abilities that surpassed even the Queen that had originally infected him.

Coin Operated Boy

TWN | Jaskier | Mature | character study, crack treated seriously, body horror, body humor | 25k

It should have been a beautiful day. The sun was shining, Oxenfurt University was bustling with students in the pursuit of knowledge, and the autumn air was brisk on Jaskier’s cheeks. He was finally home. But it wasn’t a beautiful day. Jaskier was exhausted and currently being escorted to the history department by two sour-faced men of secretive repute.

Bedside Manner

TWN | Jaskier & Shani | Teen | 2500w

Jaskier woke up to a boot gently nudging him, and he resented consciousness immediately.

Obedience Training

Witcher Video Games | Iorveth/Roche | Mature | Red Rider Iorveth & Hound of the Wild Hunt Roche | 1k

As Iorveth was about to depart on a mission, he was abruptly summoned by the commander of the Red Riders to meet him at the kennels.

Syllable

TWN | Yennefer/Jaskier | orgasm control | 100w

"Yennefer,” Jaskier pleads.

Shadowdancer

TWN | Geralt/Istredd | handjob | 100w

Geralt trembles in Istredd’s hand, his body dancing like the shadows in their room.

Medley

TWN/Witcher video games | Jaskier/Roche | Explicit I PWP | 100w

“Fu-uuck,” Jaskier says into Roche’s neck, repeating the curse with different number of syllables each time he slams himself down on Roche’s cock, “just a little more—” he pleads, as if Roche could do anything but groan from the heat and tightness of Jaskier’s ass, like he isn’t clutching Jaskier’s hips, repeating shit, shit, shiiiit, like he’s playing a dirty fucking medley with the bard.

Acquired Taste

TWN/Witcher Video Games | Jaskier/Roche | Teen | 661w

Roche is drifting in a postcoital fugue when a weight on his chest rouses him. He cracks open an eye. Jaskier is balancing a flask on his chest, careful not to let it topple with the rise and fall of Roche’s breath.

Bonus two-sentence drabble:

In the echoes of destiny and choice

TWN | Geralt/Yen/Jaskier | Mature | cuddling & snuggling | 100w

She used to think it would be suffocating to be loved like this—burrowed deep beneath these blankets, comfortable and safe, happily living in the hearts of these men—with Geralt’s arm draped over her waist, his slumber peaceful and more potent than chaos, and Jaskier curled along her body, murmuring Yen’fer against her neck, banal and enchanting in its sweetness and domesticity; Yennefer drowsed in the warmth, pulling Geralt closer and kissing Jaskier’s forehead, and Jaskier’s hand slipped beneath her collar and cupped her breast, squeezing gently while he fell asleep. Yennefer breathed easily, her heart full and boundless.

mmmmm..tagging?? if you want! or not!! whatever suits you. ❤️ @sargassostories @kiriele @katwriteswitcherthings @beatrice-otter @danegen @faetxlity @daerienn

[harrissam19]

Dishonored Blog Project: Hound Pits Pub

Samuel the boatman takes Corvo for the first time to the Hound Pits Pub, the base of operations of the Loyalists. Here we meet Treavor Pendleton and Admiral Havelock. They explain there plan to end the Lord Regent's tyranny and put Emily in her rightful place on the throne. Corvo then meets Piero for the first time, an engineer/ scientist who can create gear and upgrades for the player. Then its time for Corvo to get some rest.

Strange music plays as Corvo seems to wake from his slumber. As Corvo leaves the bedroom he opens the door to see a strange mirror world of reality. Water flows upwards and islands of memories float in a world without time. Then we meet him for the first time, the one known as the outsider.

He explains to the player that they are in The Void. He also gives the player his 'Mark' which burns mysteriously into Corvo's left hand. The Outsider informs Corvo that he has a pivotal role in what is to come for Dunwall and its people and that he should know that he will be watching from the shadows with great interest. With the Mark, the player is now able to draw powers from the void to use going forward. He also gives the player the Heart. With this the player is able to find runes and bone charms to help them when found in the world.

In the Void, Corvo comes across the location of the Empress' murder with her body and a note reading 'YOU CANNOT SAVE HER' over and over. This small part of the environment gives insight into not only Corvo's mental state, but also that the Outsider is all knowing.

Waking up back in the real world, Corvo is alarmed to see the Mark of the Outsider still burnt into his hand. Walking down to be briefed by Havelock, the player comes across two workers of the hound pits talking about Samuel the boatman's history in the navy. This is another moment that makes the player feel like each character has their own in-depth backstory, like they are real people who have lived actual lives.

The Loyalists brief Corvo for his first mission. He must neutralize the High Overseer Campbell(who we met earlier when he was being painted by Sokolov), a leader of a huge, and brutal religious cult, and to free Martin who is another Loyalist. It is believed that in Campbell's infamous black book is the location of Lady Emily. Before leaving for the mission, Corvo is stopped by Callista, one of the workers at the Hound Pits Pub. She informs Corvo of her fear for her uncle who is to be poisoned by Campbell and that she would love it for Corvo to see if he could help him in any way as he is a good man who doesn't agree with the tyranical reign of the Lord Regent. After this it is time to depart for the mission.

[bastardsunlight]

The handlers are putting on a good show, to their credit; if Hawker knows they more wardens than tour guides at this point it does not show, considering she has evidently told them a brilliant joke and they are laughing riotously. But they are distracted, their timing is off, and for the briefest moment both their cackling falters as Sixteen enters the corridor through the parted maw of one of its sliding gateways. One of them faintly remarks “oh, fuck—” but dares not put his hand on a weapon.

It is his first time inside the facility in months and it shows. His gear is dusty, worn, and his left arm and the side of his light plate carrier show the faded remnants of blood splatter. His mask and visor are still in place, but the moment the two Apexes make eye contact is apparent and the Left Hand stops dead in his tracks to scrutinize his small, half-finished counterpart.

Leblanc’s timing and composure is far better than that of her underlings, however, and she sweeps out of the side-corridor leading to Management’s office, stops, assesses, and motions sharply to it while rather loudly greeting the returning operative and informing him that he is due a check-in. Sixteen disengages, skeptically, deciding that within earshot of the boss is an unwise place to make his brand of introduction and passing the trio without incident.

When he reports in and unmasks, he bears a rare quizzical expression. It is not his place to ask Management who the redhead is or why he has brought another Apex here (he’d known what he was looking at the second he’d seen her bicolored eyes catch the fluorescent lights and glint ever so faintly yellow), but he does not need to do it in words.

It is the exact reaction Management thought TA-82E-21 might receive from her perfected—as far as can be expected at Apex 4—counterpart, the operative known only as Sixteen. How Albert Wesker managed to convince a child that a number was as good as or better than a name is anyone’s guess and will remain in his particular vault of secrets until he chooses to divulge it. Steepling his fingers as his Left Hand walks in, he assesses the man visually, though he already has the bodycam feed and biometric readouts with which to occupy himself later.

“So you’ve met our guest,” he says, his voice the satisfied purr of a big cat. Leaning back in his chair, he assumes a more relaxed position, gesturing to another seat in the room, comfortable and tastefully upholstered. The entire room is well-appointed, in fact. There is noting too gaudy, but neither is it spartan. At Leblanc’s insistence, Management has agreed to mimic humanity yet a while longer and this has extended to his office. Anyone with proper senses could observe almost immediately that whatever it is he is doing, it is only a facsimile of being human, but most sane people are able to healthily compartmentalize such concerns, putting them aside for their nightmares, refusing to observe and therefore acknowledge what they have observed in the clear light of day.

There are those like Reverend James Campbell who see what Wesker is—what he has become, what he always was, or perhaps what had once slumbered within—and have more than observed it, however. He is a worshipful dog, a hound of evangelical furor, waiting for his chance to do his master’s bidding. His guise is not even that of a devotee for personal gain; there is genuine belief in that foul, twisted thing someone might misconstrue for a heart which beats merrily along in the chest of the good Reverend. Many will die for his transgressions, damned or otherwise, and he will smile and serve and sleep well at night.

But he is no normal man.

Management has made it a point never to surround himself with normalcy. They get in the way. Only the extraordinary will do and Sarah Victoria Hawker is certainly that. “Sarazen will be nominally in charge of her oversight,” he says after a moment. He is gauging Sixteen’s reaction to this news, assessing as ever the degree of obedience within the Apex and adjusting his technique accordingly.

[alterrune]

Operation: Hounds Slumber begins.

We’ll be going after Justin’s and Nicholas’s organization, The Blackjacks next.

Here’s what we got.

The Blackjacks are split up into 5 Squadrons. Each Squadron consists of rogue agents from international agencies and from Laurence’s old agency as well. Be careful, as they’re Highly trained and murderously efficient. With the best skills, tech, and training in the world, they're one of the most dangerous predators among the Trinity of Fate that you will be facing.

Squadrons:

Shadow Tide:

A group of paramilitary warlords bent on using their combat expertise and overwhelming firepower to dominate their enemies and expand their territory. Smart and organized, Shadow Tide is led by a former US Army officer whose ruthlessness and combat prowess make she and her combatants a horrifying force.

Leader: Molly "Jupiter" Henderson

1st Captain: Chadwick "Neptune" Brandon III

2nd Captain: Lucy "Venus" Anders

1st Lieutenant: Mary "Saturn" Masters

2nd Lieutenant: Ryan "Mercury" Chang

Burnway’s Legacy:

Bitter survivors and agents of a forced quarantine bent on revenge against those who brutally imprisoned them and the society that stood by and let it happen. Their charismatic, bloodthirsty leader believes everyone is complicit and urges her followers to punish the guilty by spreading sickness and murdering indiscriminately.

Leader: Carter "Hornet" Leroux

1st Captain: Lori "Termite" Baker

2nd Captain: Tegan "Luna" Silver

1st Lieutenant: Elija "Huntsman" Le

2nd Lieutenant: Jason "Titan" Barnes

Concealed Agenda:

Escaped prisoners and agents from High Security Prison’s, these hardened criminals are led by dangerous leaders and individuals. They take what they want from the wreckage of the world, determined to live like kings and queens. With no love for their enemies and no mercy for anyone they come across, they rule parts of the world through blood and fear.

Leader: Bardon “Vanguard” Breener

1st Captain: Marley "Shade" Yarrow

2nd Captain: Sueko "Wraith" Tanagi

1st Lieutenant: Linette "Dusk" Edwards

2nd Lieutenant: Skyler "Belfry" Williams

End of Watch:

A private military squadron who’s members were originally protect certain corporate assets. End of Watches agents and operatives were abandoned by their clients once the quarantine hit. They have placed huge chunks of The Word under their version of martial law.

Leader: Faye “Tusk” Lau

1st Captain: Bridgette "Viper" Douglas

2nd Captain: Felix "Kestrel" Sokolov

1st Lieutenant: Dustin "Magnus" Xavier

2nd Lieutenant: Alicia "Circe" Coswald

Warlords of the Blackjacks:

The secret Warlords of the Blackjacks contractor with ties to political and industrial leaders. They are comprised of elite soldiers that have a long history of working with the U.S. government. Their primary objective is to neutralize The Toppats and GEOGRAM and take control of Altering the Outcome.

Leader: Justin and Nicholas

1st Captain: Vivian “Scarecrow” Conley

2nd Captain: Javier “Rainer” Kajika

1st Lieutenant: James “Warden” Dragov

2nd Lieutenant: Theo “Vulture” Parnell

Eliminate 4 Squadrons to draw out The Warlords of the Blackjacks.

CHAPTER 2, ACT 6 - SIBLING RIVALRY

(The five of us are being flown out by Charles again, currently flying over the base first squadron on the hitlist, the Shadow Tide.)

Alright guys, here's the plan. Just like last time, you'll parachute down to the base and enter through the top. This time, I'll land my helicopter in a secure area where they won't detect me on their radar, instead of crashing it, as this chopper isn't one of my usual disposable ones.

Great. We doing this?

Actually, I have some intel on the place that you should know. Apparently the base has some kind of signal jammer-type system that blocks all spirits, beast forms, and exoskeleton abilities from working...but Kyle isn't on that blacklist. Your brothers apparently didn't think you'd get anything like that, too, so you can use your abilites as much as you'd like.

Nice. Let's move, team.

(We all jump out of the helicopter and land on the roof. Violet tries to use Leadhead to cut a hole in the roof, but the power-blocker seems to have blocked Violet's sword from working, too.)

Drat! Kyle, can you write anything with that pen of yours?

You bet I can.

(I quickly whip out my fountain pen spirit, Storyteller, write the words "entryway hatch" on the roof's surface, and the words turn into a hatch we can go through, which we all do. Upon entry, we all see a door that says "Meeting Room". I kick open the door, and we find that all 20 of the squadrons' leaders are there. I quickly use Storyteller again and write "beanbag chair", which spawns in a beanbag chair for me to relax in while the CSB handle each squadron's leaders.)

Ahhh...nice to finally relax. It's not like I don't want to help the CSB, I'd already be up if that was the case. However, this time they don't need my help at the moment, so I'm just gonna sit back and enjoy the bloodbath.

(Not too long after, the CSB win the fight. The CSB didn't kill any of them, but they did heavily injure them, with all of them having at least two broken limbs. I suddenly notice a microphone on the desk which says "P.A. System Mic" on it. I quickly grab it and start speaking over the loudspeakers.)

Hello, Blackjacks! This is Kyle Gibbons, representative of the ColorStreak Battalion speaking. We just seriously wounded your leaders. They're not dead, but if you don't allow us to leave here and unconceal the location of this base, we will kill them. Trust us, we'd really rather not kill them.

(I cut the mic, and they comply with our demands. We walk out of the front door of the building, and I pin up a written note onto a corkboard near the entrance that my brothers were using for plan ideas, given the label that says "POSSIBLE PLAN IDEAS" placed above it. We then head to Charles' heli, and he is absolutely THRILLED with our work.)

That. Was. Insane. You guys are amazing with this stuff!

Hey, don't sell yourself short, Charles. You did pretty good, too.

Agreed. You've got some serious skills when you're in the air, Charles.

Aw, shucks, you guys...Anyways, let's head back to the base. Aaron is gonna love this!

CHAPTER 2, ACT 6 COMPLETE!

Achievement Set Unlocked: "Operation: Hounds Slumber"

Achievement Unlocked: "House Of Blackjack Cards"

DISPLAYING ACT EPILOUGE...

(My brothers, Nicholas Zingone and Justin Gibbons, head to the base. They open the door to find that they've been hit by us!)

What the---?! Oh my god, you're kidding me. They got us?!

(sigh) Figures. We leave the base for only a few minutes to get some supplies, and Kyle and his little ragtag group of OC misfits hit us.

Wait...what's that on the corkboard?

(Justin sees the note I left, takes it off the corkboard, and reads it with Nick.)

Hey guys! Been a while since we had a little family reunion like this, hasn't it?

Me and the ColorStreak Battalion were a bit rough with some of the guests, though. They were apparently "squadron leaders" for you? Whatever the case, we didn't kill them, but I'm pretty sure they'll be in full-body casts for...I dunno. A month? Maybe two? Anyways, I'm glad to hear you two are in town, because the reunion's not over. If anything, this party's just getting started.

✍🏼Kyle Gibbons()✍🏼

(Nick grabs the note, turns it into a paper airplane, then hands it to Justin, who flies it into a nearby file cabinet marked "Items That May Come In Handy Later".)

He always knows how to get under our skin...

Yeah, he does. And I hate it.

[bomberqueen17]

succubus

“This is the last session we’ll have for this,” I said, as DF got out the Xbox controller and booted up the Witcher 3. [I am writing this well after the fact, if it wasn’t obvious.]

“I mean,” MM said, “if we do it without you I’d have to take notes, wouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” I said.

“No, no,” DF said, “I’m fairly certain that Geralt will have no problem simply resuming his hard drive slumber in your absence.”

“I suppose so,” I said.

DF shrugged. “The game is from 2015,” he said, “it’s not like it’s going to suddenly be out of date.”

“Fair point.”

So, we settled down for one more session. On the docket: Honor Among Thieves, and a random collection of what we’re starting to term Chicken Sandwich Bandits because so many of them have a chicken sandwich as their loot.

Well, I hadn’t really understood that the reason Dandelion got it into his head to rob Sigi Reuven’s credit union was to bankroll some operation of Whoreson Jr.’s, in part to pay for the repair of the phylactery Ciri had. Whoreson requested that specifically for the chaos it would cause the other three crime lords of Novigrad, surely, but Dandelion was only working for him to help Ciri.

Anyway, it seems somewhat overly-complicated.

Meanwhile, Geralt is out for a jog, apparently, running through the countryside doing odds and ends kinds of quests. At the moment, the Apiarian Phantom, which is some kind of monster that is randomly freezing people to death, along with some beehives. 

The beehives are all owned by a family of... halflings? Related to the one that Geralt freed from the upstairs of Junior’s casino, apparently, and one of them has a beat-up face, but is not the same guy. IDK man. 

It’s weirdly idyllic, we’re picking berbercane and wolfsbane in a pleasant meadow while looking for clues. And here come drowners in mass quantities, and some Drowned Dead, who are like bonus-level drowners. 

We followed the tracks to an abandoned half-constructed house, where another conveniently-placed halfling gave us a key to get into the fully-constructed basement, wherein the Phantom was hiding-- ah, it’s a random Hound of the Wild Hunt. Fortunately it escaped in a cutscene that called Roach for us, as we were supposed to give chase on horseback.

We ran for a while and then just picked a likely-looking field and got off, and then fought the hound. Having put a point into a skill that lets you convert Adrenaline points into Vitality in moments of extremity saved our bacon, as Geralt definitely almost-died from this fucking thing and then revived at the last second. Hounds of the Wild Hunt, for the record, don’t give a fuck about Axii but really really really don’t like Igni. 

Eventually we melted the thing, and got paid for saving the halflings’ meadery. Thence to the next little quest marker, which involved saving some lady’s hens from a mysterious marauder. The mysterious marauder turned out to be a bunch of refugee children in the woods, and Geralt resolves the quest by convincing the old lady she should adopt the children.

On the way out DF paused for a moment, and I was like, “Why can’t Geralt just stand somewhere like a normal person?”

“Google Earth,” DF said, “always takin’ pics,” and rotated the camera to look at Geralt’s majestic streaming hair in the perpetual sunset.

Back to Novigrad, for Deadly Delights, which features a succubus. 

An amusing moment in the initial interview: the guard we’re speaking to as we find out the details of the quest is wearing questionable armor featuring the little circles that are meant to protect the wearer’s elbow joints... over his ears. Sort of... innovative I suppose?

MM is trying to predict how much clothing the succubus will wear, in her Sorceresses/Strumpets/Concubines Hierarchy Of Women’s Outfits In This Fucking Game. “She can’t have her tits out,” I said. 

“I mean,” DF said, “she could, there have very much been tits in this game.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. There sure have. 

Meanwhile DF is maneuvering Geralt through a crowd roughly the way he himself walks through a crowd in real life, featuring Having No Idea Where His Shoulders Actually Are; he tends to ram people a lot. Amusingly, the NPCs tend to universally make weird sex grunts when rammed like that, and sometimes the women make disturbingly pleased little “ooh” noises that are absolutely not what a real person would do if someone rather large and substantial and wearing armor actually rammed their ass in a crowd. (Fortunately for the real-life crowds DF is occasionally in, he does not generally wear armor, though he does very occasionally, it’s worth mentioning...) (ha that got me to look through old pictures, here’s MM on an extremely festive occasion, yes she is extremely decorative)

Anyhow we followed a scent trail inconclusively but then found another clue that led us to a whorehouse. Which featured an assortment of Strumpets in booty shorts, occasionally gyrating purposelessly on tables to no apparent audience. The amusing thing was that the whorehouse functioned like any shop, and so DF hauled up his inventory and sold all the junk he was carrying around, featuring ten human skulls among other things. 

There’s an Axii option, talking to the house’s madam, so we took it. They reward you so handsomely in XP every time you use Axii, it’s pretty evident they want you to just do that. So we did, and the madam told us where the succubus lives. (She’d been being super judgy before that. Like, lady, you run a whorehouse, and by the looks of it not well, you are not in any position to be judging Geralt’s life choices.)

(We were also like, DF, it looks like you can hire the prostitutes. DF was like “I am not going through the rigamarole of getting a mystical veneral disease for this quest, forget it.”) 

On our way to the succubus we had to stop and listen to the bards in the middle of the square, because they were working very hard and nobody was appreciating them.

The succubus herself was sort of anticlimactic. Because, here’s the thing-- she’s sapient. Geralt’s like hey, I know what you are, and she’s like yeah I know what you are, and he’s like so listen you killed some guys, we can’t be having with that, killing guys makes them hire a Witcher. And she’s like, I see that, and I only killed them because I was threatened. He’s like fair, fair, and at this point you could have fought her, but like. It seemed mean. So he was like listen can you get out of town? I don’t think it’s safe for you here anyway. And she’s like yeah I was kind of thinking that. So he’s like then you’re good? You got a safe way out? and she’s like yeah, I’m good. And he’s like cool, then I’ll lie to the people who hired me and I never saw you, chill? and she’s like yeah, chill, and that’s it. 

I guess you can fight her and kill her and get some rare component but like. Why? She was chill. Also she was not dressed particularly racily, and she had goat legs and like, full-body markings, so that was interesting. 

I’m gonna cut this in half and do the last, final, last bit of writeup later: we went to Skellige just for shits and giggles for our last night, to do one piddly little quest before it dropped off for being too low-level, and I’ll write about that later. 

[sxypigeon]

Part 4: Pharmercy Beginnings

A/N: The last chapter of my pre-recall Pharmercy story.  

After the fall of Overwatch, Dr. Ziegler spends her time traveling the world helping people, occasionally with the help of Helix and Fareeha Amari. Nosy coworkers try their best to bring the two together, but as the doctor is called away, Talon plots . . .   

Part 1 warnings: none, just sarcasm and fluff

Part 2 warnings: attempted assault, violence

Part 3 warnings: none, more fluff

Part 4 warnings: assassinations, NSFW, cough-sex-cough

Fareeha took a sip of her tea as she adjusted the volume of her headphones.  A twenty year old version of Angela flashed a shy smile as the auditorium’s applause died down during her first TED talk.  

[Before I begin, I have a bit of a confession to make.  I’ve been asked at least five times over the last two years to give a TED talk, but up until now I’ve been able come up with reasonable excuses to decline:  I’m too busy working or researching, I don’t know what country I’ll be in four days from now, I hate public speaking - please don’t make me do it.]

The soldier smiled.  While the doctor did hate speaking in front of crowds, she was proficient at it even then.

[I’m here today because I finally ran out excuses . . . and because my mentor threaten to confiscate the coffee maker from my office if I didn’t.  

[My name is Angela Ziegler, I’m a surgeon and researcher at Universitätsspital Zürich.  In my spare time, I act as a field medic on humanitarian missions with the UN’s peacekeeping organisation Overwatch and I’m here tonight to talk about myself and my research into nanotechnology.]

The doctor took a moment to sip from a bottle of water before continuing.

[Before I get into that, I feel like I should address the comments I get most often whenever I tell someone I’m a doctor - ‘Really?  You don’t look old enough to be a doctor.  What’s your skincare routine?’]

And she still gets those comments, Fareeha thought with a grin.  

[There’s a reason for that - I earned my doctorate in Biomedical Engineering before I was able to legally celebrate my accomplishment with a pint or glass of wine.  To put that in better context for those living outside of Switzerland, our drinking age for less potent alcohols is sixteen.]

Younger Angela paused her slow walk across the stage with a soft smirk as the room broke out in quiet muttering.  

[By seventeen, I finished medical school and had started my residency, that was the same year I submitted my first proposal to the European Medicines Agency to begin clinical trials for treating heart disease using nanotechnology.]

The doctor clicked a button on the small remote in her hand and a picture of her with her team in Switzerland appeared on the large screen above her.

[That was taken on the first day of human testing, almost three years ago.  That was a very roundabout way of saying I’m currently a few months shy of my twenty-first birthday.  So yes, I am quite young.]

Fareeha paused the video and put her laptop on the coffee table in front of the large sofa she’d been laying across.  Quietly, she trekked across the expansive living area and informal dining room before opening the door to Angela’s room just enough to poke her head through.  The doctor was still asleep on her stomach with her hair brushed off her face by the soldier.  Angela had collapsed into bed after nonchalantly stripping down to her underwear in front of her.  She was so tired, I doubt she realized what she was doing. . . or she was messing with me again.  Both are equally likely.  She closed the door and retreated back to the living room.

They made it to Angela’s apartment nearly an hour ago after fighting through a sea of reporters and dignitaries at the airport.  Fareeha wanted to punch every last one of them in the face . . . many, many times.  Couldn’t they see the doctor was exhausted?  Didn’t they see the way she grimaced at their camera flashes and shouted questions?  

The captain rolled her shoulders and continued walking through the penthouse apartment restlessly.  Over twenty-four hours of non-stop tension was difficult to relax after, especially when what she really wanted to do was pull the doctor into her arms and hold her while she slept.  She’s already asleep . . . she doesn’t need me.

The lingering anger about the whole ordeal her best friend endured didn’t help her state of mind either.  I need to hit something, she thought as she headed towards the small exercise room.

“None of this makes any sense!” Nayef shouted as he pulled at his thick hair.

His father frowned at the younger man’s lack of self control, But perhaps Talon is partly to blame for that.  “Calm yourself, boy.  The situation is being dealt with.”

“But I would never attack anyone like they’re saying I did!  And somehow there’s fucking video of it!”  He let his hands fall from his hair to his face, one hand over his mouth as he watched the airport assault video on his phone.

“Put that away.  I told you, the situation is being handled.”

“How?!  How could this be spun any way but how it looks?!”

“That’s enough,” the older man growled quietly.  His son immediately quieted his protests.  “Turn your phone off and go play one of your games.  The situation is being handled.”

The young man frowned at being dismissed like a child, but obeyed and left the room.  

Ogundimu had better clean up this mess, he thought as readied himself for the Talon operative’s pending call.

[Your highness, good evening,] the smooth, slightly accented voice on the other end of the video call greeted.

“Ogundimu, you said this plan was fool-proof.  Instead, my brother lives, my son is being hounded as a rapist on the web, and I have three dozen different countries threatening tariffs on the Kingdom over this debacle.  What are you going to do about it?” the acting-king asked quietly, barely keeping his anger under control.

[How is your son?]

“Fine, don’t change the subject.”

[I have a team working on damage control.  We also need to ensure the safety of you and your son-]

“I’ll take care of that,” he said shortly.  “After the mess you and your people created, I think I’ll rely on my own people.”

[If you believe that’s for the best then I won’t push the matter.  For now it’s important to remember this is only a setback.  Our goals can still be-]

“Save your pandering for the gullible, Ogundimu.  I am already suspected by my brother.  If he doesn’t arrest me, I’ll surely be exiled.  I took a risk trusting you and now I’m paying the price.  Don’t contact me again unless you have a way to fix this.”

With that, the acting king disconnected the call.  

Ogundimu glared at the screen for a moment before coming to a decision.  “Sombra, Lacroix.  I have a mission for you both.”

Sombra grinned and looked to the sniper who was lazily filing her nails in front of a 24 hour news channel on one of the many monitors in the large room.  “I was beginning to wonder why we brought her with,” the hacker mused.

“To keep an eye on you, ma chérie,” Widowmaker said flatly as she rose slowly and approached.

It was the smell of her bed sheets that pulled Angela from her slumber twelve hours later - not because of how they smelled, but because of what they were missing.  Why don’t these smell of bleach? she wondered drowsily.  Oh, I’m not at the hospital or the refugee camp.  

She rolled onto her side and groped for her phone and turned it on.  So many messages . . . I can’t deal with this now.  

Sitting up proved to be a monumental task - dizziness assailed her strong enough to force her back down onto the bed.  Low blood sugar.  I still have chocolate in the night stand, right?  A clumsy hand opened the drawer and found a small vibrator and a bottle of lubricant, lip balm, moisturizer, a spare phone charger, and finally a few pieces of individually wrapped dark chocolates at the very back.  Verdammt, that’s good for being in there for over a year, she thought as the candy melted in her mouth.  

Blood sugar better regulated, she finally sat up and took stock of her injuries.  Ribs seem fine.  She removed the brace from her right hand and wiggled her fingers.  Good as new, though a little stiff.  She felt the bridge of her nose and gave a wide yawn.  No permanent damage.  And I just assume the concussion has resolved itself.  I need some real food . . . and coffee.  A lot of coffee . . . especially if I’m going to make a dent in these messages today.  

As she steam from the shower filled the bathroom, Angela tried not to dwell on how wonderful it had felt having Fareeha lather up her hair.  You have no excuse to ask for her help this time.  Just hurry up and wash . . . and maybe later you can return the favor later, she thought as she stripped and stepped under the water.

Twenty minutes later, dressed in a Universitätsspital Zürich hoodie and yoga pants, she wandered out of her room in search of sustenance.  

“Ange?”

Warmth blossomed deep in her chest as she spotted warm eyes peering over the back of the couch.  “Fareeha, what are you doing up?  It’s not even dawn yet!” Angela laughed as the soldier practically vaulted over the sofa before carefully enveloping the blonde in a tender embrace.  “My injures have healed,” Angela muttered into her clavicle.  “I’m not made of glass.”

“Oh, well in that case-”  Fareeha squeezed the doctor tight enough to force a bit of the air from her lungs.  

“O-okay, I’m rethinking that last statement,” she groaned with a chuckle.  Angela pulled back enough to see the captain’s smiling face.  

“You look better, Ange.  How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” she admitted, “and a bit tired still.  Have you slept?”

Fareeha rolled her eyes, but nodded.  “Probably not enough though.  I’m still on Indian time, I guess.”

“Well, I’ve ordered enough food from the kitchen to put one person into a food coma and I can always order more.”

“I’m fine.  I’m just happy you’re feeling better,” she said softly as she brushed a loose strand of damp hair behind Angela’s ear.

The warmth shifted to the pit of her stomach as calloused fingers brushed her neck.  If only I hadn’t just burned through more than three thousand calories healing broken bones . . . Eat first, eat her out after.  “I have you to thank for some of that.  Knowing you were around definitely allowed me to rest easier.”

“If you say so.”

“I do,” Angela muttered softly as she cupped the side of Fareeha’s jaw and guided her lips to hers.  It was a chaste kiss, but a lingering one - one that left Angela wondering just how badly she needed to eat and if she could put it off for an hour or three.

“You need to eat,” Fareeha whispered against her lips.

“I know,” she said simply before she pulled her back in for another kiss.  The embers in her gut were quickly stoked into a growing fire as she pulled herself flush against the soldier.  I shouldn’t be doing this.  I need to-

Angela’s stomach suddenly gave what was probably the loudest rumble she’d ever remembered hearing.

Fareeha pulled back enough to chuckle, “I think we need to save this for later.”

“Verdammt.”  As if on cue, the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of the food.  “I suppose you’re right.”

[Web is set.  Happy hunting, Madame Araignée.]

Lacroix rolled her eyes before watching the younger al Saud’s limousine navigate the city courtesy of Sombra’s tracker.  Coming home after a late night clubbing.  You should have listened to your father and stayed home, Nayef.  

Fareeha was pretty sure she was in love.  Technically she had been for years, but watching Angela put away an enormous amount of sausage, bread, and yogurt cemented the feeling.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” the doctor asked as she paused long enough to sip her coffee.

“I don’t want to deprive you of what you are very clearly enjoying.”

Angela’s cheeks darkened a shade.  “It’s been . . . nine months?  Yes, that sounds right.  Nine months since I’ve been home and had Swiss food.  I didn’t realize I missed it so much. . . . That and I was quite literally starving when I woke up.  Here, have some röschti-”

“Only if I can pour maple syrup on it,” she chuckled as she took the plate of potato pancakes.

“I would be concerned if you didn’t.”

Omar kept a silent watch on the troubled young man in the back of the limousine.  Prince Nayef was uncharacteristically quiet tonight.  Usually after a night out like tonight he would regale the driver and his security team with tales his exploits, but not tonight it seemed.

The Omar came to a stop at the intersection and peered back at his passenger.  “Would you like to stop for an early morning snack, sir?” he asked.

The prince jerked out of his thoughts and shook his head.  “No, just take me home.”

“Yes, sir.”  He glanced in the rearview mirror once more before moving forward.  He hasn’t been himself since that business with the doctor.  How all of that was fabricated is beyond me, but I know Nayef.  He may bed many women, but he isn’t the type to attack a woman.  

The streets were quiet in the predawn darkness.  So much so that Omar almost thought he imaged the sound of breaking glass and the splatter of liquid.  Omnic eyes jumped to the rear view mirror; he saw Nayef slumped to the side, a quarter of his skull and brain tissue plastered the left window.

[Breaking news: Prince Nayef al Saud, subject of international outrage for his alleged attack on humanitarian Dr. Angela Ziegler, was assassinated this morning in Riyadh while returning home from the city center.]

Angela jerked her head up to the television screen and felt her jaw drop.  She and Fareeha had settled on the sofa in the living room after breakfast to allow the doctor to work on the numerous messages and updates on King Azid populating her phone.  “What?”

[Sources say the prince was traveling back to the royal palace in a limousine when a single bullet struck him in the head, killing him instantly.]

“Shit,” Fareeha muttered.

Angela stared at the screen in shock.  Mixed feelings fought for dominance in her still exhausted mind: horror that he was murdered, sadness for his family, and - though she’d never admit it to anyone - relief the man was gone from the world.  “But why?”

Fareeha tore her eyes from the screen and looked to the stricken doctor.  She wrapped an arm around Angela and pulled her close.  “I don’t know, Ange.”

Silence fell between them as the news report rambled on.  “What if this was Talon?” Angela asked quietly after a while.

“What do you mean?”

“What if-” she started before pausing to gather her thoughts.  “What if this is Talon covering their tracks?  What if Nayef was just a pawn?  It already looks like Dr. O’Deorain had a hand in the assassination attempt on the king - what if she or someone else in Talon got to Nayef?  His pupils were massively constricted each time he attacked me - what if Talon . . .  brainwashed him or drugged him or I don’t know, did something to force him to attack me?”

“You think he was innocent in all of this?” Fareeha asked a bit incredulously.

“I’m saying none of this makes sense.  There was definitely corruption at the police station and with the secret police, but why Nayef targeted me still doesn’t make sense.  Why were he and his friends in India in the first place?  You said it yourself, that without me, the king’s surgery couldn’t have been done without removing the rogue nanobots.  I’m not saying I’m the only person in the world that would have recognized the symptoms, but there certainly aren’t many that would and even fewer that could figure out how to remove them.”

The captain let the argument bounce around her mind for a moment.  “But you fought him and his friends off.  Talon thought three large men could easily overpower you - render you physically and mentally unable to help the king.  Holy shit,” she muttered quietly.  “If-”

“If they had finished their job, the king would be dead by now,” Angela finished softly.  “And now that their mission has failed, they’re covering their tracks.  I just wonder if they’ll target the acting king.  Perhaps killing his son was a message.”

“Keep quiet or you’ll be next?”

“Something like that.”

The acting king stared stoically at his laptop.  Every fifteen minutes, aids would update him on the investigation, but he merely nodded and sent them away.  He already knew who was responsible - what he didn’t know is what to do about it.

“Sir, there is no new information at this time,” the latest aid muttered regretfully.

He shooed him away with a flick of his wrist.  Do I call Ogundimu?  Will he admit to it?  Should I tell the Mabahith?  If I admit to having ties to Talon, I’ll be signing my own death warrant.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Fareeha asked as Angela set up her webcam.  

“Every major news site is asking for a statement and my lawyers seem to think it would be a good idea as well.”  She smiled as video of herself popped up on the screen.  “Are you sure you don’t want to be in it?”

“Completely,” the soldier said from across the room.

Angela rolled her eyes before beginning to record.  “Guten Morgen, as promised, an update since leaving Saudi Arabia.  I’m finally home and recovering, though I admit the news I woke to this morning is incredibly worrisome.  I’d like to extend my condolences to the Saudi royal family - regardless of what happened in the last forty-eight hours, murder is never an acceptable course of action.  I’m as anxious as the rest of the world to know the outcome of the investigation.”

Angela paused and sipped her coffee, “Since arriving home I’ve slept twelve hours and allowed my injuries to heal.  I’ve eaten enough for at least three people since waking, so hopefully I’ll be able to return to work soon.  For now, I plan to spend the next few days relaxing and trying to process everything that’s happened.”

“There are many people I need to thank for their help and understanding through this whole ordeal: the staff at the Royal Hospital in Riyadh, my colleague from Universitätsspital Zürich who performed the necessary surgery I couldn’t because of my injuries, and Helix Security for protection and piece of mind once I left police custody.”

Another sip of coffee, this time turning the mug to display the text “Self Medicating” to the camera.  “That’s all for now.  Stay safe and when in doubt, ask your doctor.”

Slow inhale, slower exhale - There you are, Widowmaker thought as she lined up her shot.  “Magnifique,” she whispered as the body fell to the ground.  “Widowmaker here.  Mission accomplished.  Are there further instructions?”

[Hold position for now.  There is a possibility of a fourth target.  Position yourself within range of the royal palace,] Ogundimu responded.

[Uh, boss - we just took out the acting king’s son and his friends,] Sombra pointed out tensely.  [Define within range of the royal palace.]

[Just don’t leave town,] he replied shortly.

“Very well,” Lacroix replied before Sombra could further annoy the man.  I suppose one more wouldn’t hurt.

Fareeha sat down next to the pensive doctor, “Are you okay?”

Angela set her mug on the coffee table and leaned against the soldier, “I don’t know.”  She closed her eyes and enjoyed the other woman’s warmth as Fareeha wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  So much had happened in the last two days, little of which she was prepared to deal with.  

I have a beautiful woman in my apartment I’ve been fantasizing about for longer than I care to admit - I should do something with that.  She pulled away from the embrace enough to stare up into Fareeha’s curious eyes.  We should really talk about what this is . . .  Angela raised her hand and let her fingertips ghost over the other woman’s skin before cupping her check.  . . . but I didn’t get where I am today without taking risks, she thought as she licked her lips and met Fareeha halfway for the kiss.

It was tender, too tender to be honest.  As Angela threaded her fingers through the younger woman’s hair, she considered falling back against the length of the couch and pulling Fareeha on top of her, but impatience won out.  I need to get us on the same page.

She broke the kiss and smiled at the confused look Fareeha gave her before straddling the soldier’s lap.  “If it’s not too much to ask,” Angela purred as she removed her hoodie, “I would appreciate something a bit more blunt.”

Fareeha stared up at her, pupils dilating as she licked her lips.  “Like this?” she asked hesitantly as she placed her hands on Angela’s hips.

A soft chuckle escaped the doctor.  “I was thinking something more like-,” she paused and moved Fareeha’s hands to her ass, “this.”

“Oh,” she muttered before grinning devilishly.  “So like this?” Fareeha asked before gripping Angela’s cheeks and bringing the doctor’s hips flush with the soldier’s abdomen, making sure to prolong the grind of Angela’s core.  “Am I doing this right?” Fareeha asked in a husky voice.

Angela’s groan started deep in her chest as her eyes rolled back briefly.  “Ja, just like that.”  She widened her knees and settled low enough in Fareeha’s lap to continue their kiss.  Whatever hesitation the soldier had before was completely gone as she quickly sought out the doctor’s tongue with her own.  Angela was so lost in the sensation, she hadn’t noticed one of Fareeha’s hands following the curve of her bum lower until the soldier found a different set of lips.

A jolt of pleasure forced Angela’s hips forward as her breathing quickened.  “Fuck,” she whimpered as Fareeha slowly rubbed her opening through her yoga pants.

“Still to your liking, Doctor?”

“That’s Frau Doktor to you,” she choked out as her hips began a slight rhythm.

“Hm, I’ll take that as a ‘ja,’ Frau Doktor,” Fareeha chuckled as she pressed a bit further between her lips.  

Breath fled Angela’s lungs as she leaned forward against Fareeha’s chest.  Her mind clouded with lust as the soldier continued her steady assault on the doctor’s core, a strong hand helping exaggerate every thrust of Angela’s hips.

“Let me know when you want more, Ange-”

“Yes!  I mean- Verdammt!” Angela groaned into her ear.  “Please, more.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  

Fareeha’s warm hands disappeared for a moment before slipping down the back of the doctor’s tight fitting pants.  It feels like her fingers are scorching my skin, Angela thought with a whimper of desire.  When was the last time someone touched me like this?

Soft lips attached to the side of Angela’s neck as Fareeha found the slick warmth between her thighs.  Teeth nibbled gently as fingers circled and toyed with her entrance, but never dipped inside.  I need- I need more, but I- I don’t want this to end.

“Liebling, please have mercy,” Angela begged breathlessly.

The soldier chuckled lightly into her neck.  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, habibti.”

Warmth blossomed in her chest and a ripple of pleasure travelled up her spine at Fareeha’s teasing.  “Reeha, I’m not going to last much longer. . . I need you inside of me,” she groaned.

“Hm, I suppose I could be merciful,” the younger woman muttered as her first two fingers slipped inside the doctor to the first knuckle.  

It wasn’t much, far less than Angela thought she’d get, but that small amount of penetration was enough start her walls fluttering.  Her jaw dropped open as her chest heaved, leaning back to grind more firmly against Fareeha’s abdomen.  A third finger slipped in and deeper as a spasm of more intense pleasure caused her to lose her rhythm briefly, before Fareeha took over and guided the doctor’s hips.  Eyes rolled back as breaths became high-pitched gasps.  Her hands clenching the soldier’s shoulders were the only thing grounding Angela as pleasure overwhelmed her.  Wave after wave quickly reduced her to a shaking, quivering mess.

“Are you okay?” Fareeha asked softly once the older woman’s hips finally stilled.

With a fair bit of effort, Angela opened her eyes and met Fareeha’s.  The soldier’s pupils were blown and her face flushed - both of which the doctor took note of before the slightly smug smile on the younger woman’s face.  “I’m lovely,” she purred as she purposely clenched around the fingers still inside of her, “but I think we should continue this in my bedroom.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened slightly as her smile grew.  “Lead the way,” she said as she slipped her fingers from the doctor.

Angela stood on shaky legs, but took Fareeha’s hand and pulled her along a bit impatiently.  “I wonder if I can make you scream,” she mused as she opened the door.

In a surprisingly short amount of time later, with Angela nestled between the soldier’s thighs, Fareeha would learn the answer was definitely yes.

It’s better this way, the former acting king thought as he was led away by the Mabahith.  My silence will save the rest of my family.  Better to lose only one son than all of them.

[We’re in the clear.  Our friend is pleading ignorance about everything,] Sombra’s voice said over the communicator.  [He seems to have gotten the message.]

[Good, return to base,] Ogundimu responded.

[Race you to the transport, Spider?]

“I know you’re already there, Sombra” Lacroix said drily as she collapsed her rifle.  Below, the limousine carrying what would have been her fourth target drove out of her line of sight.

“Are you sure about that?”

The sniper whipped around to find the hacker sitting cross-legged on top of an air-intake vent.  “It’s not like you to suggest a fair competition.”

Sombra clutched her chest theatrically.  “That hurts, amiga.”

“Oh, my apologies,” she said with an eye roll.  With her kit packed, Widowmaker glanced back at the younger woman.  “See you at the transport,” she said with a small grin before grappling to the next building.

[You cheating pendejo!]

Fareeha sighed contently as she spooned against the sleeping doctor.  She’d lost track of how many fantasies she’d fulfilled this morning, but the one she was enjoying at the moment - post-coital cuddling with Angela - was the one the filled her chest with the most warmth and finally dispelled the lingering longing she’d felt ever since she first realized she loved the doctor all those years ago.  Fifteen years later - it’s like no time has passed at all, she mused as she traced random patterns on Angela’s hip and stomach.

“That tickles,” the doctor muttered, voice thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Fareeha whispered before kissing behind her ear.

“Hmm,” she hummed happily.  “What’s keeping you up?”

“It’s nothing,” Fareeha said without thinking.  Angela’s skeptical hum made the soldier reconsider the question.  “I guess . . . part of me is still waiting to wake up and this all to have been a dream.”

Angela rolled over to face Fareeha and propped herself up on an elbow.  She smiled softly before ducking down to capture Fareeha’s lips in a slow, but deep kiss.  

Just as she was beginning to think the doctor was looking for more, the soldier felt a sharp pinch above her hip.  Her startled yelp caused Angela to fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.  “Seriously?!”

“Well, you know you’re not dreaming now, right?” she chuckled.

“You’re ridiculous,” Fareeha muttered grumpily as she snuggled against Angela’s side.

“Liebling, I’m sorry,” the doctor said soothingly.  “Can I make a confession?”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember your graduation from basic training?”

“When my mother purposely scheduled herself a mission so she wouldn’t be able to attend?  Yeah, I remember.”

“I remember going with Jesse and Reinhardt and Reyes,” Angela said patiently.  “When you and the other graduates were presented I remember thinking to myself, Verdammt!  She’s not supposed to look that good in a uniform!”

“Really?” Fareeha asked sceptically.

“Ja, you had filled out during training.  You weren’t a beanpole anymore - you radiated self confidence and with good reason.  I think you were top of your class in nearly every category.  I was caught more than a few times by Jesse leering that day - and once he figured out why, he promptly told Reinhardt and Reyes.”

“So when they all kept accidentally pushing you into me all day after the ceremony, it wasn’t necessarily because they knew I liked you-”

“That was probably part of it, but they were quite amused by my epiphany about your physical appearance.”

Fareeha grinned for a moment before another question begged to be answered.  “If we both found the other attractive back then - wait, you did know I-”

“Liebling, I daresay the entire watchpoint knew.”

“Right . . . Why are we only doing something about it now?”

Angela didn’t say anything for a while, but carded her fingers through the younger woman’s hair.  “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“I did,” Angela admitted.  “I guess I was afraid I couldn’t be the person you needed me to be - I was actually fairly certain I couldn’t. . . I hoped you’d find someone who could be there for you whenever you needed, someone who wasn’t hundreds of kilometers away and too busy to even consider trying to have a relationship.”

“And now?” Fareeha asked quietly.

“I suppose we’re going to have to try this long distance relationship thing people keep telling me is entirely doable.”

Fareeha chuckled softly.  “It helps to have realistic expectations going into it.”

“Like what?”

“Like how often we’ll be able to see each other and how often we should call.”

“So seeing each other more than three time a year outside of work?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds like something we should figure out after a nap,” Angela muttered through a yawn.

“Fine, as long as we figure it out eventually,” Fareeha said softly before rolling the doctor towards her onto her side.  “Get some sleep, Ange,” she whispered as the doctor burrowed under Fareeha’s chin.

Later that evening, Angela sat on her patio overlooking the city, staring at the unlit cigarette between her fingers.  Slowly and deliberately, she slipped it back in the half-empty pack and placed it by the unused ashtray.

A gentle smile spread across Fareeha’s face ten minutes later when she stepped outside to check on the doctor.  Eyes closed and breathing deeply, Angela was meditating, her cigarettes long forgotten.  “Dinner’s ready.”

“Finally,” she teased as she unfolded her legs and grabbed pack and lighter.

“Quitting alreading?” Fareeha asked as the doctor led the way back inside.

Angela shrugged as she tossed the cigarettes in kitchen garbage.  “I wanted to be able to taste your meal.”

“I’m honored.”

Nightmares, flashes of intense anxiety, and nicotine withdrawal peppered Angela’s week of recovery, but with Fareeha nearby to provide support, the doctor’s mental state quickly improved.  Endless affection, home-cooked meals, and meditation seemed to be just what Angela needed . . . that and sex.

“I’ve always wanted to take you like this,” Angela admitted with a grin as she slipped the slippery toy between Fareeha’s folds.  “The strong and stoic soldier on her hands and knees . . .” she slid the dildo along the younger woman’s clit and entrance, “getting thoroughly fucked by a much smaller woman.”  Fareeha’s low moan had Angela grinning widely until the vibrator inside herself sprang to life.

“Don’t get too cocky, Frau Doktor,” the captain chuckled.  “You gave me this remote, but you didn’t say how I should use it.”

Angela let out the shaky breath she’d been holding as she adjusted to the weak stimulation.  “I have complete confidence in your intuition - it’s gotten us this far.”

“So if I were to suddenly crank it to max-”

The doctor’s hips jerked forward violently as she tensed up before Fareeha dropped the intensity back to the lowest setting in a fit of sniggering giggles.

Angela pulled herself off the soldier and slapped her ass just hard enough to sting.  “Liebling, I have no problem teasing you until you beg,” she said in a menacing voice.

Fareeha hoped the doctor hadn’t noticed the way her hips jerked impatiently at the slap.  “Is that a threat or a challenge?”

The blonde’s soft laughter should have been warning enough, “Oh, Fareeha.  For you, it is a promise.”  The harnessed toy was back between the soldier’s folds, sliding in long strokes.  “Tell me, liebling, is there a certain type of pain that arouses you or will anything do?”

Shit, Fareeha thought.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered.

“Oh?  So this,” she used her free hand to scratch up along the back of Fareeha’s thigh, “does nothing for you?”

“Nope,” the soldier groaned in a strangled voice.

“Hm, how about this?”  

Blunt nails trailed firmly from between her shoulder blades to the small of her back.  “If it does something for you, than feel free to continue,” Fareeha panted.

“I am enjoying watching you squirm-” Angela tried to say before the vibrations inside her intensified.  “Retaliation?” she moaned.

“I just don’t want you to get bored.”  Fareeha tried to take calming breaths while Angela was distracted, but with the toy’s constant simulation of her clit and entrance, she didn’t accomplish much.  “Too much, Ange?”

“I was about to ask you the same,” she chuckled breathlessly.  “Do you want me inside you, yet?”

Fareeha bit her lip, “Does it count as begging?”

“I suppose not, since I brought it up.”  The toy stopped at the younger woman’s entrance.

“Yeah.”  The head of the toy slowly pushed inside just enough to stretch slightly before withdrawing.  At first Fareeha thought the doctor was going slowly to avoid hurting her, but after the fifth stroke with only the bell-shaped head of the toy entering her, she began to have her doubts.  “Ange?”

“Yes, liebling?”

“You can go deeper, you know?”

“I could.”

Fareeha sighed and fought the urge to bring her hand between her legs and rub her clit for more stimulation.  “Do you need encouragement?”

“What do you have in-”  Her breath caught in her chest as the doctor jerk forward with an increase to the vibrations inside her.  “Impatient, aren’t we?” she moaned.

The toy now half sheathed inside Fareeha, the soldier smiled and pushed herself back against Angela to bring it deeper.  “I’m not ready to beg yet.”

“Then I need to try harder.”  The blonde bent over Fareeha and slipped her fingers on either side of her clit.  “I have another question for you, liebling.”

“Yeah?”  The doctor’s long and frustratingly slow thrusts were testing her patience.

“I told you I’ve thought about taking you like this.  Have you thought about this, too?  Or have you imagined yourself in control?”  Her fingers began moving in gentle circles over the sensitive bud.

If Fareeha’s face hadn’t already been flushed from arousal, it would have been now.  A decade and a half of fantasies - of course I’ve thought of nearly this exact situation . . . but I’ve also thought of another, more erotic one.  “I’ve thought about both,” she admitted, “but I’m particularly fond of one . . . where I take you from behind.”

Angela’s soft chuckle filled the air and sped up her thrusts just a bit.  “I’m not surprised.”

“The thought of thrusting into your perfect ass . . . while I’m three fingers deep in you has gotten me a off more than a few times,” Fareeha panted.

Angela froze in surprise and bent further over the soldier, muttering obscenities in multiple languages as she tried to temper her excitement.

“Need some help?” Fareeha asked with a smug smile.

Deep, shaking breaths seemed to be doing little to help the doctor.  “You’re looking for something a bit harder and faster, right?” she whimpered.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Good.”  The nails on the hand gripping Fareeha’s hip bit into skin as Angela’s hips drew back before quickly meeting her hips.  “Harder?”

“If you can handle it,” the soldier said with a grin.

A low growl was the doctor response as she slammed their hips together, the fingers on Fareeha’s clit working a bit firmer and faster.  

“Fuck, that’s perfect,” Fareeha groaned as she met each of Angela’s thrusts.  “Just like that.”  She heard the doctor give a soft moan.  “You’re perfect - don’t stop.”  The thrusting sped up a tic with Angela’s breathing.   “I’m so close-”  Her walls fluttered around the toy.  “Oh, fuck,” she groaned.  Just as Fareeha was about to fall into a more intense orgasm, Angela pulled back.  “What-”  A sharp slap to her ass sent her body spiraling into pleasure.  She was vaguely aware of the doctor continuing to thrust roughly into her, extending the orgasm before remembering the remote to Angela’s vibrator.  She quickly maxed it out.

“Gott!” the doctor choked as she buried the cock as deep as it could go.  Short, quick thrusts rapidly drove her over the edge at last - the constant simulation of the vibrator prolonged the feeling, leaving Angela gasping for breath.

“Liebling, please,” she whimpered tiredly.  “Enough.”

“Oh, right,” Fareeha muttered as she fumbled with the remote.  With the vibrations halted, Angela collapsed forward onto the soldier’s back.  “Are you okay?”

“Ja, tired,” she mumbled.

Carefully, Fareeha lowered herself onto her stomach while balancing the doctor on top of her.  “If you pull out of me, I can help you out of the harness.”

“Who says I’m done with you yet?” she muttered with a small fit of giggles.

“You do,” Fareeha sighed with a smile.  “You get very giggly when drunk or exhausted.  I’m pretty sure you’re too far gone for round two.”

“Fine.”  Clumsily, Angela pulled away before flopping onto her back on the bed beside Fareeha.

About poke at the doctor’s lack of grace, Fareeha’s words died in her throat as she watched the pink silicone cock bounce side-to-side.  

The soldier’s snort of laughter forced Angela to open her tired eyes.  “What?”

Using a single finger, Fareeha pulled the tip of the dildo towards her before letting it go, causing it to bounce violently.

“Seriously, liebling?”

“What?  It’s hilarious!  Physical comedy is the best type of comedy!”

“Not your silly puns?”

“They are pretty good, but come on.  Are you telling me you don’t find that even remotely amusing?”

Angela gave her hips a shake and watched the toy wiggle.  “Okay, it’s a little funny.”

“I knew it,” Fareeha muttered with a grin as she loosened the straps around the doctor’s thighs.  “Did it live up to your expectations?” she asked tapping the cock.

“I didn’t make you beg,” Angela pouted lightly.  “I suppose that means we’ll have to try it again . . . or perhaps I should let you have a turn with it.  You seem to have put some thought into your fantasy.”

Fareeha felt her face warm considerably as she pulled the harness down the doctor’s legs.  “Only if you’re up for it.”  She crawled back up Angela’s body and settled on top of her.  “What do you want?” she muttered against her lips before kissing her gently.

“You.”  Warm arms wrapped around Fareeha as the kiss deepened.  Hips and legs shifted until they both had a thigh to grind against.  Breaths came hot and heavy as Angela’s nails scratched down the soldier’s back to her bum.  Moans filled the air as their movements took on a near frantic pace.  Fareeha hit her high first, breaking the kiss and groaning into the doctor’s shoulder.  

“Do you need help?” Fareeha asked after a moment, slipping her hand between them.

Angela nodded impatiently, hips still grinding on Fareeha’s thigh.  Light, rapid circles over the bundle of nerves between the doctor’s lips stilled her hips as her back arched off the bed.  

Fareeha propped herself up higher to give Angela more freedom of movement . . . and to watch the doctor tease one of her own nipples.  Lower lip between her teeth, Angela was close and with her breasts arched up the way they were, Fareeha felt it would be a crime not to give the ignored one the attention it deserved.

“Aaaah!” Angela groaned as Fareeha’s teeth nibbled lightly on her nipple.  It was enough to start tremors of pleasure radiating from her pelvis.  Several vocal moments later, Angela finally collapsed back onto the bed.

“Better?” Fareeha chuckled as she pulled the doctor into arms.

“Too far gone for round two,” she muttered with a sleepy laugh.

“You proved me wrong, habibti.” Fareeha admitted warmly.  “Let’s get some rest.”  She pulled the sheets over them and let sleep begin to relax her mind and body.

“Verdammt!”

“What’s wrong?” Fareeha muttered in confusion as Angela wriggled out of her arms.

“The vibrator.” she huffed in annoyance as she shuffled towards the bathroom.

“Wha- Oh.”  A fit of giggles over took the soldier.

Angela turned back and glared, “You should probably get up, too.  I don’t want you getting a UTI with two days of our time off remaining.”

Fareeha sighed, “Ja, Frau Doktor,” as she headed toward the guest bathroom.

Dinner with Dr. Muller was enjoyable and largely uneventful until dessert.

“Angie.”

“Hm?” she hummed as she took another bite of tiramisu.  

“That’s my leg, not the captain’s.”

“Verdammt!” she whispered as her face went scarlet before burying it in her hands.  “Lars, I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled and patted her back fatherly.  “I suppose it’s my fault for talking up so much space under such a small table.  Have you two been playing footsie through the entire meal?”

Fareeha was barely holding in her laughter as she looked to the younger doctor.

“Maybe,” Angela admitted as she dropped her hands.

“Mein Gott - does that mean you’re finally dating?”

Angela looked shyly at Fareeha before nodding.

“Good for you!  It’s about time, too.”

“Lars!”

“What?” he chuckled.  “How many times have you told me you’re too busy for a relationship over the years?  This means Captain Amari can take over the job of worrying about you.”

“Are you really capable of not worrying about me, Lars?”

“No, but I feel better knowing someone else is, too.”

Fareeha smiled softly, “I have been for years.  I almost feel like there should be a support group for us.  Like for when Angela does something ridiculous like head to Turkey during their civil war.”

“I didn’t sleep well the entire time she was there,” Lars laughed with a shake of his head.  

“I can take care of myself,” Angela pouted.

“That’s not the point,” Fareeha said patiently.  “When you purposely put yourself in harm’s way, the people who care about you will worry.”

“It’s a good thing, Angie,” Lars reassured her.

The day of their many flights brought with it a fresh bout of anxiety for the doctor.  It seemed no amount of sex or mediation that morning could loosen the knot in her stomach.

“How are you doing, habibti?” Fareeha asked softly as they settled into their seats for their first flight.

“I’ve been better,” Angela admitted before beginning to take slow, deep breaths.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” she whispered as she took the doctor’s clammy hand.

Angela managed a small smile.  “I know.”

“There’s the slacker!”

Fareeha looked around the helipad and spotted Tariq and Saleh standing with Angela’s team.  “Funny, I seem to recall you two getting time off the same time I did.”

“Yeah, but two days less than you,” Tariq sarcastically moped as he embraced her.  “Please tell me you and the doc are sorted out,” he whispered.

The captain blushed and rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, we’re sorted.”  Beside them, Angela was being thoroughly examined by her nurse.

“Fatima, I’m fine,” the doctor said as she tried to bat the older woman’s hands from either side of her face.

“Oh, I’ve never heard that from you before.  Your nose seems properly set.  How is your hand?”

“It’s fine,” she laughed in exasperation.  

The nurse frowned at her for a moment before pulling Angela into another hug.  Quiet words were said and the doctor relaxed into the embrace.

“Captain, it’s good to see you,” Dr. Sobek greeted with a firm handshake after Saleh’s hug.  “Am I going to have to keep an eye on you and Angela or can the two of you keep your hands to yourselves while on duty?”

“Neil!” the blonde shouted.

“Oh my, her face gets quite red, doesn’t it,” he laughed as he dragged Angela into a hug.  “I suppose I’d better be careful or you’ll put me in my place.”

“I won’t hesitate,” she said with a wide smile before moving to greet Ahmed.  “It’s good to be back.”

A temperate breeze blew through the open balcony door as Dr. O’Deorain settled into her favorite chair with her tablet and two fingers of whiskey.  If she wanted her team’s latest research to be published next month, she needed to finish proof-reading their submission tonight.  

At least Reyes and his comrades are finally gone.  I should have that room thoroughly swept for bugs . . . as well as my lab just to be safe.  

A short buzz drew her eyes from her work to her phone.  If this is Sombra again, I may have to consider changing my number.  Screen illuminated, Moira froze for a moment as she noticed the identity of the sender.  Angela Ziegler, it has been awhile.

[Qui cum canibus concumbunt cum pulicibus surgent]  

“He who lies down with dogs, will rise up with fleas. Just as pretentious and self-righteous I see.”  She stood and took her phone to the balcony and contemplated how to respond.  On the lake below, yachts drifted lazily as the lights of the city reflected off the water’s surface.

Working with Talon had always been a risk, one that usually worked well in her favor - the fews times it hadn’t involved Angela in one way or another.

Moira stared at her screen for a moment longer before switching off the phone.  We said all there was to say years ago.  No need to revisit the past.  With one last look at the lake, Moira returned to her chair, sipped her whiskey, and went back to reviewing.

A/N: That’s it.  No more - this thing was 25 pages by the time I cut myself off.  I did think about putting in a scene with Moira getting passive aggressive texts from Angela, but this is enough.  I typed that and got angry at myself for not doing that scene and put in that last bit after all - I think I have a problem.

So a few notes about why I did what I did: 

I prefer my Mercy assertive for a couple of reasons.  First, she’s a surgeon.  While that doesn’t mean all surgeons are self-assured pricks, they do need to be confident enough in their abilities to know they probably won’t kill their patients.  Second, she travels the world (war zones), meeting and helping new people - it would be a difficult thing accomplish if she couldn’t stand up to pressure and resistance for governments and combative locals.  Third, she carries a weapon and uses it responsibly.  

Pharah, in my mind, was a hot-head youth who mellows with age as the world sees her as her own person and not as her mother’s daughter.  (I think that’s how just about everyone writes her.)

Ana teaches Angela Krav Maga - I like the fighting style, that’s the only reason I picked it.  

Angela fights a couple of drugged/brainwashed jerks because I wanted to write battle Mercy sans blaster and I needed practice writing hand-to-hand combat.

I’m an awkward person so my main characters are also a little awkward.  I also don’t write a lot of smut so . . . yeah, I’m not really sure how I feel about the execution of those scenes.

I’ll probably write more pharmercy in the future, but I’ve gotta get back to my korrasami story first.  Thanks for reading!

[deusautem]

@casualkillers

The first time he hears of a Soldier, Chanyeol has barely learned to grasp the concept what being one entails. Lived in the same barracks as the men who leave war to live a life without a word of it, deny it is this one who yanks them out of slumber in a cold sweat at 3am in favor of a pseudo-quietude. These are the men who left war to carry this one through their own eternities for war still gnaws on the bones of its perpetrators even when all else has been reduced to rubble. His sole response is skepticism. Testing on soldiers may have roused to popularity, testing on veterans is a different case.

The second time it is a sole fulmination rippling through the air, the marvel of a higher up´s skull splintering to bloom as carnages before a roaring audience to serve as obeisance for the display. It is as if the beasts granted him a sliver of a near future, etching in his skull the premise of tomorrow pulling on a trigger. Men who have coalesced with their own pandemonium, men who may now survive all, men who may now annihilate all. It doesn´t lure a laughter from him at the absurdness of such a theory. Doesn’t force a scream at the realization of it all being a reality. He needs the serum, this is all it leaves behind. He needs the serum at any cost.

The third time he may give it a name, David. First subject. Seemingly feigning ignorance to the substance coursing through his veins, the numerous syringes filtering this one through them, the latter’s avarice for it. They forge a binding out of sulfur, rust, liquor all the daylight may not lay eyes upon. Corpses granted as nothing but a symptom of a holier purpose, never mentioned to be of the same sort as them. They only follow orders, mere decoys playing god at the end of the day.

Days which burgeon to weeks. Weeks which rot into months.

Patience endures through the span of six months under a routine of ‘jobs’ followed by copious amounts of alcohol induced bonding, but the ones behind them are ravenous hounds, craving power, gold, gore and if he may not provide them with these it is bound to be his they feed on (glory has always been worth more than blood). It is on the seventh when both are deployed to one last operation at retrieving the serum, shrouded as another assassination away from the city’s filth which won’t let them breathe. Get in, shoot, get out. First mistake, all looked too simple. They drive to the designated location with David’s voice as an echo to whatever anxiety brewed within him for the span of almost an hour. The streetlights beginning to dissipate into nothing but the headlights of a vehicle at a few meters of distance, an unsettling quietude. Tonight they breathe gunpowder. It ambushes both with a blaring discharge aimed to their vehicle, as if they had been sent right into the beast’s maw. He only registers his hands stirring the wheel, shattering glass, David forming profanities as his index is pressed to the trigger.

“Shit.” His head lifts enough to glance out the windshield. Darkness. “It’s a sham, Dave. The whole operation is a sham, actually, many have been.” The second half is muttered under his breath as his gaze keeps flickering from his to the holster. Even then, another gunshot forces him to shift close enough for his voice to be audible. “They sent us here to die. Dave, fuck The Company, we can both save our necks just give me the serum. That’s all they want.”

[antolcgias]

side verses

A list of the side verses that I create and are more concrete.Feel free to ask any questions for clarity!

HOW DOES THIS WORK?

All listed universes are OPEN to interaction with mutuals.

Default ages for the muses are set for each universe.

I write iconless for muses whose main fc is not the correct age for their sideverse (unless I find a suitable alt-fc at the right age!). 

We can plot on variations of these side-universes! Bring me your ideas

Our interactions and plots are not limited to these universes.

ALLISON ARGENT [Primer]

Legacies (Series) | THE FREELANCER

AGE: Twenty-Seven (27)

Not all potential students are reached in time — not all can be saved — and when Saltzman can’t handle a cross-country trip, and his staff are spread thin, then the occasional freelancer is called in to help. Allison doesn’t consider herself much of a teacher. She’s likelier to work with gifted student’s family to prepare them for the worst: how to protect their children from themselves. So she answers the call, as is the deal between her father and the school, to come when she’s needed — or to go where someone awaits. To be found, to be aided, to be protected and led to a new home — or to have their would-be devastation curtailed.

SCREAM (TV SERIES) | BEACON HILL’S FINAL GIRL

AGE: Seventeen (17)

It starts on a Monday and ends on a Sunday with the flaming carcass of an old bus along the roads into the preserve. The body of Peter Hale smoking in that metal coffin by dwan. All under a full-moon. Jackson, Danny, Stiles, Lydia, Scott. Gone — but their killer is too. Mad-swept Hale had been brought low by his object of vengeance. The death that would right all the wrongs against his own at the edge of his wicked grasp — a justice stolen away by Allison’s sheer will to live. When Allison’s parents relocate their family to Lakewood, under the guise of restoring an old estate, she can’t help but wonder if there’s any moving on for her at all. Wonders if she’s branded instead.

REYNOLD ARGENT [Primer]

Percy Jackson & the Olympians (Novels) | SON OF NEMESIS

AGE: Sixteen (16)

There is no equivocating with his nature. There’s push and pull — a balance of right and wrong. A bet for a trade. An archer trades his family’s legacy by revealing their corruption and earns a goddess’s respect in exchange — receives a son. Prepares him well to face a life where the world may operate with black and white in mind but keeps him mindful that it is mired in gray. Which is how Reynold finds himself, at the tender age of twelve, accompanied to the wild woods and sun-kissed shores of Camp Halfblood. All the while eager to begin a new legacy — a new story for the world to behold.

TEMPERANCE ELAINE CONCORD [Primer]

Dark Matter (Series) | MERC FOR HIRE 

AGE: Twenty-Nine (29)

Ferrous Corp, Traugott Corp, and the Mikkei Combine. Corporate entities out to pursue their own interests — wealth, power, immortality. Each equipped with wells of wealth that grants them access to the back-channels and sources necessary to accomplish their goals: mercenaries to guard and secure assets, assassins to curb enemies and scientists to run prohibited experiments. The Legion is this but with a price. Their leadership as unknown as their agents. Their actions the calling card visible for those with the means to see their hands igniting the sparks of rebellion, conditioning planets for disaster, or working at the gears of political machinations. EL. CONCORD, survivor of the white-hole incident which engulfed Perseus II, is one such mercenary with the Legion. Taking on the galaxy one scrubby job at a time.

ESPERANZA DEL ALMA  [Primer]

Dark Matter (Series) | THE GILDED EYE

AGE: Twenty-Four (24)

She does what she’s learned — backseat dealing, blackmail, and trading all that glitters into credits. Until a deal goes wrong. Not even hers, but rather her father’s pride dooming Esperanza to a fierce and desperate escape into the first ship she can find. Figures she can at least she can trade her contacts — traders, backstabbers, mercenaries and salesmen — if not her name for a quick lift.

Legacies (Series) | THE PACK HEIR

AGE: Seventeen (17)

Far more hierarchical and traditionalist than most western packs, the Del Almas and their associated families consider the Salvatore School for the Young & the Gifted a sound investment until their heirs are ready to return. The funding offered year by year is never lacking so long as there is space made for their children (should their own parents see it fit). Esperanza was spared splitting from her family, and maintained a hold on her glitzy life, until a territorial dispute led to the death of a would-be invader—and the full inheritance of her powers. As tensions rose, waned and rose again, the school was considered a safe haven to shuttle her off to. It was safer than their lands — at least until other creatures began to slip into the warded walls of the school from a malevolent pit out to free itself from slumber.

Supergirl (Series- S4 Onward ) | THE IDEALISTIC ENTREPRENEUR

AGE: Twenty-Five (25)

In a world of Lena Luthors, Esperanza aims to be ... herself. No heiress to her father’s anti-alien sentiment, and his patriarchal mindset — no future wife to whoever he deemed adequate to fold under his thumb. All it takes is a single day, at eighteen, of staring at her insta and realizing the potential it has. That she has That’s how it starts: with one post — and then all the glitzy bar-hopping, star-studded brunching and paparazzi-ed shopping is turned to quick pics with tremendous tagging capabilities. She cultivated a loyal following over the years,  and then curried for sponsors .... and won investors.  Of course, she’s born to privilege so why not turn that familial investment into the full platform it can be — leveraging ruinous secrets for what her father sees as a smidgen of a trade: a set of copyrights, some retail space and properties, and she’s out of his hair, and inheritance, for good. To use for good, which is a steep learning curve but she’ll get there — catching glimpses of Supergirl and her pals in CatCo media spaces all the while. 

KEYLETH WARNER [Primer]

Dark Matter (Series) | THE UNSEATED HEIR

AGE: Thirty-Three (33)

Vyvyana Warner, heir to the kingdoms held on the planet Vya and its child moons, Daphnaie and Meliae, is cast out into the vast and expanding universe when a usurper takes control of her world. Sought out for death or marriage to the new sovereign, she turns to other means to seek out a proper end to the coup — one where she rises onto her throne and continues to protect her people.

ISAIAS ACOSTA [Primer]

Supergirl & The Flash (Series)* | THE CRAFTER

AGE: Thirty (30)

There’s no name for him, not in a vigilante sense (doesn’t want one either). He doesn’t need to don a mask to sit by the stoop in his neighborhood and knock looters on their asses every few nights. Life to him is simple; it’s about living in the moment aHandling the debt his school years earned him, shuffling through the more mundane aspects of life, through side deals — auto-body shops, maintenance gigs and even construction jobs. These days? Isaias has had more than one vigilante come at him with requests — suits, gloves, weapons even — and governments hounding for equipment to control metas and aliens — cages, shackles, and restraints ... but he won’t make anything for just anyone. He has the eye for the design and the hands made to craft the impossible. If someone has the materials then he can make it — but not for the right price, rather the right purpose. 

*Continuity (Supergirl S4 Onward) or (The Flash S1 Onward)

ZORAIDA MONTEMOINO [Primer]

In development!

STEPFORD CUCKOOS [Primer]

PHOEBE STEPFORD 

In development!

IRMA STEPFORD 

In development!

CELESTE STEPFORD

In development!

[pendragonfics]

The Future is Now

Paring: Derek Hale/Reader

Tags: female reader, werewolves, AU where nobody dies, monster of the week, fluff, angst, protective Derek, some spoilers for series 3-5!!!, but not too many. 

Summary: The people of Beacon Hills always had thought you to be a freak, a nerd who didn't fit in, because well maybe you were. Or maybe it was because you could do really hard math off the top of your head, and figure things out before they happened.

OR

The time when Derek notices you and you notice him, after...well, experiences are experienced.

Word Count: 1,822

Posting Date:  2017-01-25

Current Date: 2017-06-07

To say you had been a friend of Stiles would be a vast overstatement. He sort of adopted you, after a day at the library, when you had overheard Allison grumbling over a quadratic equation, and you answered the problem without any pen and paper from the top of your head. The people of Beacon Hills always had thought you to be a freak, a nerd who didn't fit in, because well, when you were too shy to become a Mathlete, and too awkward to make your own friends, and lo and behold, that meant you were different.

But what world you stumbled upon because of Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski, the terrifying place where the teenagers around you were packs of werewolves, where your blood ignited when you were around to help with laying the mountain ash barriers, where nightmares surrounded you daily, made your mind race. It was like you couldn't tell the difference between the pages of the mythologies you'd ingested to keep up with the monster of the week.

But it was at the werewolf Derek Hale's apartment, who was a part of Scott's pack, when you felt so very out of the waters of your experience. You'd seen terrible things and a blind megalomaniac werewolf, sure, but still, you were the freaky geek who never had experience with social events. Thus, when Derek himself came up to you, and offered a bottled water, you were almost speechless.

"So, I hear you're another of the resident humans in the pack," he gives a smirk over the water, which makes you wonder if he's joking, or if he's just making fun of you. After all, he's very ripped, and very handsome, and an older guy, and you're used to this kind of treatment.

You nod. "I guess I'm a part of the pack, then," you mull over.

Glancing to the werewolves and assorted others getting to their seats for the pack meeting over Derek's lounge and coffee table. Allison and Isaac are seated beside one another, beside them squeezed in is one of the Chimeras, Corey, with Kira sitting on the arm of the sofa cross-legged. Lydia is running over notes she's taken from the last meeting, absentmindedly chewing the eraser on her green pen, Scott peering over her shoulder. Deputy Parrish is in the kitchen, working on his homemade lemonade with some help from Malia, who grumbles in good nature about being away from Farmville. Liam and Stiles are on the floor, challenging one another to a thumb war, with Mason and Hayden watching in amusement. It's all quite lovely; like a painting about to be frozen in frame, a memory to keep forever.

He chuckles, a deep-throat rumble which makes you think he's either choking or full of dry humour. "So, what got you in here? A friend of Stilinski's, or are you the one who worked it out all on your own?"

You shrug, looking to your hands. You were supposed to bring something, but you can't quite remember what. "I'm not really a friend of anyone," you tell the guy who happens to be very ripped and very shirtless before you, not meeting his eyes. "I'm just sort of...here." your eyes flit across his own, and adding quickly, you blurt, "I mean, I'm clever, I guess. In ways Lydia isn't."

Derek Hale nods. "So, you're another part added to be the brains of the operation," he smirks, and passes you, walking to the meeting on the lounge floor of his apartment. "Come on, bright star, meeting's about to begin."

Not three days later, the pack has decided to go on a camping trip onto the reserve, to try and get the new wolves into the habit of staying away from the civilised, well-populated areas of Beacon Hills. Also, not three days later, you wake in the sleeping bag in a hot sweat, sitting upright with heaving breathes, terrified out of your wits. You are in a tent with a few others, paired with Malia and Isaac, and Derek. Despite their wolf senses, none stir at the small gasp you release, the things you saw in your sleep still bright before your eyes while awake.

Outside the tent, you hear the rumbling and racing of the newbies rushing around the forest, sating their full moon needs to be wild and free. If you went out to soak in the moonlight, there was a chance you'd be at the mercy of Mason and Liam, and the new recruits to Satomi's pack. So, there you sat, counting your fingers and blessings, trying to ignore the things you had seen in your sleep.

"You're talking aloud, _________." Malia grumbled, rolling over into the wall of the tent, so her face was covered in material. As far as her hair and fluttering sleep-ridden eyes suggested, she was talking in her sleep, and wasn't awake. "Shut up."

You nodded, and whispering, apologised. Slowly, you slid back into the cooled sleeping bag, and after a moment, resumed the sleep you had woken so fitfully from.

The morning following, you were shaken awake from slumber by the frantic voice of Derek Hale, urgency threading his voice like ice lacing a frozen coffee from a local barista. Before you know it, he has gathered you into his arms, and holding you tight, races out of the tent. Your heart is afire with pulse, unsure when to beat and when to breathe, but as you come to, you notice three things.

One, you are in your pyjamas, and in the arms of the guy you think you have symptoms of a crush for.

Two, the rest of the pack are running, fleeing from the camping scene. The humans and slower creatures are in the arms of the wolves; Jordan Parrish has Lydia in a bridal style in his arms, Malia is carrying Stiles in a piggy-back fashion.

Three. There is a creature in pursuit.

"It can't be real, I'm still dreaming," you moan, voice low.

Because the creature before you is the something you saw, the thing you woke yourself from in the night. It is a skeleton, a dog with legs that face backwards, ears that moved in any way to catch the sound of what it pursued, and if you looked closely, there was not one head, but two...three! Three heads! It looked like death, in the flesh; it had to be a sort of hell-hound creature that Parrish wasn't descended from. You whimpered into Derek's shoulder, eyes closed as tight as you could.

When you open your eyes, you are all inside Scott McCall's house, the line of mountain ash. The ghost dog, the devil dog is outside, and you're breathing heavily, tears threatening to come. All eyes are on you. The dog retreats, leaving you all inside the house, hearing your heartbeats alive in your ears.

"I dreamed of this, everything, I dreamed every detail of what has happened," you whisper, unable to look anywhere but your hands. He rouses you, placing you down onto Scott's mother's sofa. "Oh god, I'm not human, am I?"

Derek bowed his head, not looking at you. As your eyes grazed the pack's, you noticed all but Lydia's avoiding your own. The beautiful brainy redhead stepped closer, cautiously. Her eyes sparkled, bright, alive. "I think you're human, ________, but something is in you, that isn't. Are you familiar with mythologies?" she asks you.

You nod once, silent.

"I have a suspicion that you're something we haven't seen before," she murmurs, almost excited at the existence of you for once. Scott steps forward, placing a hand on her arm, and waking from the trance, she grins. "Have you heard of the Seers?"

"Sears?" Stiles wonders. "Everyone knows what a department store is, stupid."

"You're stupid," Isaac elbows the detective's son in the chest, "She said seer, Stilinski. Like, oracle."

You swallowed. "Does that make all my good marks at school plagiarised? I've always had them given to me. Oh no. I'm not smart, I'm just future sensitive -," you place your head in your hands, folding your body into itself upon the sofa cushions, a crisis descending on you, racking you through with tears and emotion beyond your understanding.

Scott clears his throat, and taking a deep breath, declares, "Let's give ________ some time, I think she needs to let it sink in." He gives you a sad smile you can't see, and ushers the rest of his pack upstairs to his room, prepping himself to see everyone around his bed and floor on blow up mattresses. "Come on, pack."

Derek places a hand upon your shoulder. "I'll stay with her. I remember what my mother used to say to newborn creatures. I think." he adds a Hale-glare onto the end of his words, the rest of the stragglers increasing their pace to the upstairs, "Don't wait up."

Slowly, when you hear their footsteps receding, you straighten, and face Derek Hale. He has sleep-messed hair, threaded through with the wind's touch as he had run across town. But he still has his eyes, and they're watching you, waiting.

"What did your mother tell people when they found out what they were?" you whisper.

He shrugs, lowering himself to the floor before you, so you are taller than he is, gazing up to you like he is looking to the stars. "I can't quite remember. Something about nature, about how the way of the world working beyond our control, to create what it needed for the future." he grimaced at the end, "If she were here, she'd say you were special, and you had to keep your strength." He placed a hand on your wrist. At once, your pulse spiked. Upon feeling this, he frowned, lips parting. "Don't be afraid, ________. I know I was when I was a new wolf."

You shake your head. "I don't think I'm scared. I don't think I'll ever be afraid, to be honest, what, with the future happening now in my mind," you tell him, taking a deep breath. "Please don't laugh. I - I - thank you for not treating me like a freak that time in the meeting," you whisper. "I've sort of always been a little bit of an outsider. Now I know why," you chuckled mirthlessly.

"If you're not afraid, why -," he stops mid-sentence, "I like you too, ________...it's not something I can say for most people in this small town," his eyes burn bright at that, like he's greeting you home, like it's always been with Derek.

"I know you're probably tired," you babble, shifting across the sofa, "but would the mighty Derek Hale be objected to snuggles? I don't think I can face more dreams like that by myself just yet." you confess.

He nods, and stretching, his form joins you on the sofa. "You'll never face them alone. I've got you, bright star."

[echoeternally]

Nexus of Lylat (Prologue 1)

Hey there! This is the very beginning of my Star Fox fanfic, Nexus of Lylat. It’s available on fanfiction.net, found here, but I wanted to try experimenting with format, which I never got to on that website. So, I’ll try my hand here.

This is a Star Fox story that picks up after Star Fox: Assault, borrows elements from all around the franchise, and even some elements from Fire Emblem: Awakening. It was also originally written in 2015, so games released after that year will have been overlooked, sadly. 

In specific regards to this chapter, it’s a precursor to how the story flows. This chapter in particular is meant to give a view into a life before Fox McCloud got started as Lylat’s hero, and before...well, the Lylat Wars (Star Fox 64).

Regardless, here’s my attempt at Star Fox!

[17 years before Lylat Wars; Past]

 During the early morning sunrise over Corneria City, a blue and white ship flew across the sky, departing from a tall silver and blue building. A fox in a green uniform and white jacket rushed through the halls and down the stairs within it, racing to the bottom floor while barreling through anyone that stood in his way.

 Running across the building’s lobby, he made his way for the front door when a gray bulldog in a green uniform stepped in front of the exit. Barely, the fox skidded to a halt before him.

 “Ho, easy there, McCloud!” The bulldog laughed. “Where are you headed off to in such a hurry?”

 “Home,” replied the fox. “My wife was expecting me back…about ten minutes ago. And counting.”

 “Yikes!” The bulldog stepped aside. “Well, you’ve got no time to dawdle. You’re cleared to go, McCloud!”

 “Thanks, see you later, Grey!”

 In a flash, the fox raced off from the building and sped through the streets of the city, and then across a wide grassy field. Eventually, with the city a few miles behind him, he ran toward a lot of smaller gray and blue buildings, making his way to one closest to the water. Panting, he paused to catch his breath and recompose himself before approaching his house.

 Carefully, he turned the door and tried to open it manually, jumping back at it slid open. A few paces inside, another red fox tapped her foot from under her deep violet robe, and glared through half opened eyes at her husband. Her hand slid away from the door’s remote operator.

 Chuckling nervously, the late fox took off his sunglasses. “H-Hey there, Vixy. You look fantastic this morning.”

 “Right, morning.” Her voice was icy and she folded her arms. “Dawn’s already over as you arrive home…late. Again.”

 “Vix, darling, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

 “Save it, James.” The vixen let out a long yawn and brushed her messy fur. “I should know better than to expect you around to raise our son.”

 “I’m here now!” He chased after her as she rolled her tired eyes and pulled herself up the carpeted stairs. “Vixy, just get a little rest before you go, and—”

 “A little rest?” She thundered and whirled around at him as she reached the top of the stairs, nearly sending him rolling back down them. “James, I’m sleep deprived! And work is in less than an hour!”

 “Wait, what? I thought it was in two from now.”

 “We have a meeting this morning, the lab called last night.” She sighed as James followed her through their dimly lit halls, with sunlight breaking in through the curtain covered windows. “And then little Fox decided that mommy’s rest would have to be rescheduled too.”

 They made their way to the end of the hall as Vixy opened the green door at the end. Inside, a pup lay inside of a small bronze crib, sleeping peacefully.

 “Faker,” hissed Vixy as she leaned against the powder blue wall inside. “Cried all night long, at least once an hour.” She pulled her hands over her eyes, but smiled as she got another look at her slumbering son.

 “Was it just Fox this time?” James whispered and crept over to the crib, smiling down at the cub inside. “Or are the city outskirts still too loud for you?”

 “They…might have contributed.” Another yawn escaped her. “This place still doesn’t feel like home, James. There’s not even enough room for the crib in our bedroom.”

 “It’ll get better, Vixy, I promise. And we still own the place back home.”

 “For now.”

 “Vixy, we’ll get back there someday.” He turned to her and lightly exhaled. “Work here though is—”

 “Important to not just Corneria, but the Lylat System as a whole, I know.” She rolled her eyes and stepped closer to him. “When is Peppy going to give us back the hovercraft?”

 “Once he’s done charming that new, how’d he put it…oh, ‘honey-bunny,’ that he’s after.” The two laughed together, but quickly hushed one another and whirled around to the crib. Still, Fox continued to rest. “Out cold.”

 “He should be.” She shook her head and kissed James before turning heel. “Anyway, I need to go change and get going. Dr. Andross will be stopping by at the labs later today as well, so we definitely need to get things in order.”

 “No, the doctor Andross?”

 “Yes, the very one. Do you know if that hound will be there?”

 “Pepper? No idea.”

 “Hmm.”

 A light yelp sounded and James spun around again, gazing over the crib at his son. The kit had woken up and his bright green eyes slowly fixated on his father’s.

 “Hey, morning, champ.” James slipped off his gloves, reached over, and let his hand hover near Fox. The pup reached out and gripped his father’s fingers. “Ooh, firm grip there, kiddo. You’ll be strong when you’re older.”

 “And hopefully quieter!” Vixy shouted from the other room.

 James chuckled and watched his cub flail his arms. His eyes widened as Fox rolled and pushed himself up, using James’s arm for support. “That’s it! That a boy!” Slowly, Fox fell back down on the crib and James chuckled lightly again. “No rush, you have time still. Someday, Fox, you’ll accomplish great things.” He brushed his hand over the baby’s head. “You just trust your instincts and you’ll be able to do anything.”

  Quietly, Vixy peered in and watched James play with little Fox over the crib, with the kit giggling as his father played with him. She smiled and glanced out the hall window, moving the curtain as the sunlight shined through.

Click here to continue

[nelrunari]

❖ AND THE DREAM CALLS: Waorryn

Character Name: Waorryn

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: 5 Years (Sylvari are born adults, though, with the entire knowledge of their people packed into them. So he is physically and mentally 25)

Trigger Warnings: Discussion of War

Appearance: Of the Sylvari race from the world of Tyria, Woarryn is physically a plant.  His skin is more bark-like than some, his hair is made of vibrant pink leaves and petals drawn back into a thin braid at the back and when it becomes dark he glows in certain places with a pink bioluminescent hue.  His eyes are a similar pink color to the glow he emits. Waorryn is very short of stature, standing at 4’10’’ with as ‘lithe’ of a build as you can consider a tree.  He is also very lightweight.

[ LINK ] - [ BIOLUMINESCENCE EXAMPLE ]

Personality:

+ Kind, Intelligent, Quick Thinker, Leader, Patient, Never-Give-Up Attitude, Team Player

- Stubborn, Impulsive, Impatient, Reckless, Trusts a bit to easily

Background: (Possible Spoiler warnings for the GW2 MMO)

Waorryn awoke from The Dream of Dreams in uncertain times… the threat of the great undead dragon Zhaitan threatened the land of Tyria.  In a whirlwind he found himself walking the path of a soldier, joining the Pact Army as one of many Commanders - agents that held a position just beneath the Marshal who lead large portions of the giant Army.

After the fall of Zhaitan the land of Tyria had a few moments of peace… until Moredremoth surfaced from it’s slumber deep beneath the surface of the world.  He took up arms again and suffered great losses.

Once Moredremoth had been taken care of Waorryn took up the mantle of Pact Marshal, instead of being on the forefront of battle and the defense of his world from the ancient dragons he was bogged down with the paperwork.  Logistics, like confirming operations and negotiating deals with the powers of Tyria for resources and soldiers.

But time continued turning and the next threat reared its head.  He stepped down and returned to his roll as a Commander of the Pact and once more headed into battle.  After a hard fought, desperate fight, in the time of relaxing after, he finds himself slipping into an unfamiliar dream…

Memento: A Sylvan Hound named Kyoon.  Kyoon is his battle companion, friend, and service animal.  Like Waorryn, Kyoon is also living foliage, and is made up of vines and soft ferns.

[ KYOON ] - [ STREEECH ]

Natural Abilities:

Natural Armor - Being made up of bark and plant matter, Waorryn is a bit harder to damage.  That isn’t to say he can’t still be cut or harmed, just that it’s a bit more difficult to do.

Power History:

The Dream of Dreams - Through a connection the Sylvari call ‘The Dream’ they are all connected, able to receive an empathetic connection with other Sylvari and even Sylvan Hounds.  In Nelru, Waorryn no longer has this more physical and emotional connection with Kyoon. It’s okay, they still work perfectly together.

Extra: Waorryn has a chronic pain disorder that worsened badly after exposure to the jungle dragon, Mordremoth.  It’s symptoms and effects on him are the same as Fibromyalgia in humans. Kyoon is his service dog that is able to aid him should he need it.

❖ Nelrunari Section ❖

Ward: Chimestone

Player Tag: Here

❖ OOC Section ❖

Name/Alias: Ghost

Contact: https://twitter.com/pick_up_styx

Age: 33

Pronouns: He/Him

[leolaz05289535-blog]

Health & Exercise Contents.

Animal cloning no longer creates any major titles as the modern technology has actually shed its novelty aspect. To boost the graphic of black kitties, Birmingham Cats Protection is setting up Black Pussy-cat Day - with a Halloween theme - at the fostering center on October 26 In the meantime, an open day is being stored at the centre today between twelve o'clock and 4pm, including online popular music due to the Classics, a cookout and also various other attractions. Researches have actually revealed that indulging in a little bit of noontime slumber may function marvels for your performance, memory, imagination, efficiency as well as total state of mind So if you won't make time for a snooze solo, possibly the option to curl up alongside your fuzzy friend will definitely persuade you to take a comfortable 20-minute remainder today. This permits the hyperthyroidism (thyroid lump) to advance so our team must remain to increase the dose of the medicine. Several folks specified that they had actually utilized white colored vinegar to neutralize the give off pet cat urine. In Europe, normally people don't applaud white pussy-cats, they believe they are actually better to the ghost as well as evil one supernatural beings given that ghost and also white cats both are actually white and roam in the evenings. As talked about in my last message concerning exactly what to nourish ordinary pussy-cats, obligate predators, including the pet cat, are unique in their need for http://strength-vitality-blog16.info/ huge volumes of dietary healthy protein (primarily, disposable nitrogen) that separates them from omnivores and also herbivore species (18-20). Despite procedure from hyperthyroidism, recuperation of muscular tissue mass as well as function may be lengthened, lasting several weeks to months. Remember that your pet cat has a much keener feeling from scent compared to you do as well as they will certainly affiliate this area with squirting. Also in the deepest blues from the Great Economic crisis, general pet food items spending really raised. Although one may assume that procedures for tracking kitties on methimazole would be actually standard among veterinarians, this is not the situation. Cats are actually much more prone than dogs. View, folks assume that felines throw up regularly considering that they have revolting hairballs that choke them up as well as create them hork. 5. Does your animal obtain ear infections two to three days after being actually or going for a swim brushed? I opted to acquire a litter box cupboard and acquired my 1st item of pussy-cat furniture.

Our happy-go-lucky, four-legged pals additionally deliver our team with constant genuine love, one thing, friendship and also commitment else that might certainly not be at the center of most people's minds - wellness perks. When I was doing research in Egypt many years back, I was actually surprised to locate pet cats possessing the operate of several of the greatest hotels. However, even though hyperthyroidism was present, this would certainly not aid your pussy-cat's diagnosis as a result of the the extent of kidney illness. When vapor cleaning up the location to kill micro-organisms that may reside within the pollen, consistently make use of scorching water. George mentioned our team should have veggies - that it was unhealthful not to consume vegetables. Yet I found my pet cat didn't consistently consume all from this. Therefore currently I blend the Miralax right into the crown type could food and also do not add any type of water. Our experts've all found the resemblances in between the bodily appeal from an individual and also the form of cat or dog they have actually selected and also giggled over it. You recognize, the person with a wrinkled pudgy deal with a bulldog or even the lady along with long flowing hair with the Afghan hound.

[alterrune]

Mission 2: Roosevelt Island

Threat: Shadow Tide

Info: Shadow Tide managed to secure a newly developed EMP technology from the cargo plane that crashed sometime ago. Combined with Conley's tech, the EMP jammers were able to neutralize all non-rogue Military Techs, and disable all gear used by us.

After all the EMP techs were secured and embedded with The Blackjacks tech, they sought to move the techs out of D.C. and deliver them to the rogue agents nationwide in order to cripple loyal Ageny Operative, while the Shadow Tide units brought to Washington, D.C. aimed to set up a foothold at the island and prepared to burn all of D.C. from its virus contamination. We can’t let that happen. We’ll be sending in a squad of GEOGRAM soldiers for assistance.

Complications:

EMP Tech: Shadow Tide is using EMP to disable any electric tech, so you’ll have to rely on ballistics and non electric gears to make it out of this one.

Fog: We detected a foggy storm in the area, so your vision will be obscured by the weather.

Mandatory Headshots: Your stunt back when your were dealing with the leaders caused The Blackjacks to step up their game. They’ll be wearing some very protective armor, helmets, and mask in the area. So headshots will only count on this one, so don’t miss.

Achievement for completing mission:

One Pair.

CHAPTER 2, ACT 7: THORNBUSHED

(We hover over Roosevelt Island in Charles' heli. Violet and I upgraded the radar in the chopper so that our pilot could fly in the fog.)

Alright, so...uh...I don't really have a plan this time. But that's because Violet's made it instead of me. Take it away, Miss Wolfsbane.

(Charles steps back and lets Violet have the spotlight.)

Okay, so: Since the EMP field will cause all our gadgets to stop working when we go near, my plan is to stay airborne here, while I pick them off using a long-distance sniper rifle. Unfortunately, the generator powering the EMP field isn't within shooting range, it's actually underneath the building, buried deep in the ground. They may have thought of that, but they didn't think of everything. Kyle's idiot brothers made one fatal flaw: They decided to make the leaders all stand in a straight line, probably to look more official. But that just makes it all the more easy for a penetration round to hit them.

(Violet then brings out a silver gun case, which contains a tactical long-distance sniper rifle, along with a silencer. She takes out the gun, attaches the silencer to it, loads a bullet marked "Multi-Kill Round" into the rifle chamber, pulls the bolt back, aims it so the long-distance scope is aimed at all the leaders, and pulls the trigger.)

You just got thornbushed, assholes.

(Violet then signals Charles to fly away, which he does.)

CHAPTER 2, ACT 7 COMPLETE!

ACHIEVEMENT "ONE PAIR" UNLOCKED

LOADING ACT EPILOUGE...

(Meanwhile, back on the island...)

OH MY GOD! THOSE MISFITS ACTUALLY KILLED THEM THIS TIME!

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Those assholes actually SNIPED them. I told you we should've used more of those funds to upgrade the helmets, Nick!

Justin, I thought the armor was more than enough! Besides, we needed some funds for backup use, so we had to cut corners somewhere!

Maybe we could've nixed the EMP shield, then?! It clearly didn't stop Kyle's team from ASSASSINATING OUR LEADERS!

You said yourself it was a good idea!!!

Why you little...(sigh). Okay, look. Bickering like this is getting us nowhere. Besides, that round didn't have any way of tracing it. I didn't even hear any firing, the gun must've had a silencer attached.

(Suddenly, my brother's phones both vibrate. A note from an anonymous and untraceable contact appears on their screens.)

Hey guys! Sorry I couldn't leave a physical message this time, but you know how it goes. Have to make sure the message can't be traced, though, I don't want you two getting any ideas.

Sorry about your "squadron leaders", but trust me, that was a favor we did for you. Like always, you two have signed a contract without even looking at the terms, and once again, I have to bail you idiots out of it. Sorry.

- Kyle Gibbons ()✍🏼

Damnit, he's right. The number can't be traced because there isn't one.

Uh, Justin? Sorry to make things worse, but I think GEOGRAM just showed up.

Shit! Panic room, now!

(Justin and Nick enter the panic room just as the GEOGRAM forces arrive, leaving no trace of their exit. The squadron leader then messages the HQ.)

"This is GEOGRAM Zeta Squadron to HQ, primary targets have hidden themselves from view with no clues left behind. Evidence is still intact and has been left unguarded, currently in process of being secured and will be delivered to base ASAP. This is Geogram Zeta Sqaudron to HQ, over and out."

EPILOUGE COMPLETE

[caredogstips]

16 Ridiculous ‘Facts’ About Animals You Should Truly Stop Reciting

Who hasn’t shared an amazing science fact about sharks, felines, bats, ostriches, or other swine, simply to tone embarrassed later on when you find out the information was incorrect?

No more.

It’s time to put an end to such superstitions, misconceptions, and mistakes about animals passed down through the ages.

To help the cause we’ve rounded up and corrected dozens of the most popular stories we maintain hearing repeated.

Have any favorites we missed? Communicate them to science @techinsider. io.

Kevin Loria, Lauren Friedman, Kelly Dickerson, Jennifer Welsh, and Sarah Kramercontributed to this post. Robert Ferris contributed to a previous version .

MYTH: There are glitches in your strawberry Frappuccino .

Ron Cogswell/ Flickr( CC BY 2.0 )

This one is no longer true.

Before April 2012, Starbucks’ strawberry Frappucino contained a pigment made from the ground-up bodies of thousands of tiny insects, announced cochineal glitches( or Dactylopius coccus ).

Farmers in South and Central America make a living harvesting and crushing the faults that go into the colour. Their crushed forms induce a deep red ink that is used as a natural food coloring, which was “called cochineal” crimson but is now called “carmine color.”

Starbucks stopped using carmine color in their strawberry Frappucinos in 2012. But the color is still used in thousands of other food products from Nerds sugars to grapefruit juice. Not to mention cosmetics, like lovely tints of ruby-red lipstick.

Roots: Business Insider, CHR Hansen, AmericanSweets.co.uk, FoodFacts.com, LA Times

MYTH: Beaver butt secretions are in your vanilla ice cream .

Via Flickr

You’ve likely heard that a secretion called castoreum, isolated from the anal gland of a beaver, applies in flavorings and perfumes.

But castoreum is so expensive, at up to $70 per pound of anal gland( the cost to humanely milk castoreum froma beaveris likely evenhigher ), that it’s unlikely to show up in anything you eat.

In 2011, the Vegetarian Resource Group wrote to five main companionships that develop vanilla flavouring and would like to know whether “theyre using” castoreum. The reaction: According to the Federal Code of Regulations, they can’t.( The FDA highly regulates what goes into vanilla flavoring and extracts .)

It’s evenly unlikely you’ll find castoreum in mass-marketed goods, either.

Sources: Business Insider, Vegetarian Resource Group, FDA, NY Trappers Forum

MYTH: Puppies and cats are colorblind .

flickr user: rob.wiss

Dogs and “cat-o-nine-tails” have much better color imagethan we thought.

Both puppies and felines can see in blue and light-green, and they also have more poles the light-sensing cells in the eye than humen do, so they can see better in low-light situations.

This myth possibly comes about because service animals recognizes complexions differently than humans.

Reds and pinks may appear more light-green to cats, while violet may look like another tint of blue-blooded. Hounds, meanwhile, have fewer cones the color-sensing cadres in the eye so scientists estimated that their emblazon vision is only about 1/7 th as vibrant as ours.

Sources: Today I Observed Out, Business Insider

MYTH: Lemmings jump off cliffs in mass suicides .

kgleditsch

Lemmings do not dedicate mass suicide.

During their migrations they sometimes do are falling cliffs, or if they walk into an area they are unfamiliar with.

No one knows exactly when the superstition started, but a 1958 Disney video called “White Wilderness, “which triumphed an Oscar for best documentary aspect, has developed over the years as the likeliest believe but the “documentary” was faked.

Source: Tech Insider, Alaska Department Of Fish And Game

MYTH: Sharks don’t get cancer .

Back in 2013, researchers reported a huge tumor thriving out of the mouth of a great lily-white shark, and the other on the head of a bronze whaler shark.

And those aren’t the only cases of shark cancers. Other scientists have reported tumors in dozens of various types of shark species.

Wendell Reed/ Flickr

The myth that sharks don’t get cancer generated by I. William Lane to sell shark cartilage as a cancer treatment.

Generators: Journal Of Cancer Research, LiveScience

MYTH: Ostriches hide by putting their thoughts in the sand

Trisha Shears

Ostriches do not put their psyches in the sand when threatened. In information, they don’t inter their headings at all.

When warned, ostriches sometimes flop on the sand and play dead.

Source: San Diego Zoo

MYTH: Parties get warts from frogs and frogs .

USDA

Frogs or toads won’t give you warts, but shaking hands with a person who is warts can.

The human papillomavirus is what gives people warts, and it is unique to humans.

Source: WebMD

MYTH: This fossil is called a Brontosaurus .

public domain

Many beings would call this dinosaur a Brontosaurus even Michael Crichton did in “Jurassic Park.”

It is actually called the Apatosaurus. The story developed some 130 years ago during a brawl between two paleontologists.

Source: NPR

MYTH: Sharks can reek a plummet of blood from miles away .

This one is a big exaggeration. Jaws is not coming for you from across the ocean if you bleed in the water.

Shark have a highly increased brain part for reeking odors, letting some of fishing operations to detect as little as one place blood per 10 billion parts sea approximately a drop in an Olympic-size swimming pool.

But it the ocean is much, much, very big and it takes awhile for odor molecules to stray. On a very good day when the present are favorable, a shark can reek its target from a few football fields away not miles.

tahitiflyshoot/ Dronestagram

Source: American Museum of Natural History

MYTH: Bats are daze .

DeeAnn Reeder/ Bucknell University

Being “blind as a bat” signifies not being daze at all.

While many application echolocation to steer, all of them can see.

Source: USA Today

MYTH: Goldfish can’t remember anything for longer than two seconds .

Flickr user riviera2 008

Goldfish actually have pretty good memories.

They can remember occasions for months , not seconds like numerous people say.

Source: ABC News

MYTH: Giraffes sleep for only 30 minutes per day .

Wikimedia Commons

Giraffes have fairly typical slumber patterns.

To debunk this one, researchers closely monitored a herd of five adult and three young giraffes for 152 periods, counting all of their siestums and deep sleeps.

The swine normally slept overnight and siesta in the afternoon( voice familiar ?).

In total, each giraffe slept about 4.6 hours every day.

Source: European Sleep Research Society

MYTH: Sharks die if they are no longer swimming .

You often hear sharks can breathe only when swimming pushes irrigate over their gills.

That’s true of some sharks, but many others like bottom-dwelling nurse sharks can pump oxygen-rich liquid over their gills without swimming.

All sharks scarcity swim bladders, however, so if they stop float they will sink to the bottom. Fortunately a shark’s torso is incompressible and rapid swoops or ascendings don’t harm them.

Elias Levy/ Flickr

Source: American Museum of Natural History

MYTH: Poinsettias contain deadly poison .

fontplaydotcom

Poinsettias won’t kill you or your pets, though you still shouldn’t eat them.

The blooms might realise you a bit sick with some gastrointestinal issues.

Source: The New York Botanical Garden

MYTH: Humen went HIV because someone had sex with a monkey .

flickr user: kvn.jns

HIV probably didn’t jump to humen through human-monkey sex.

It probably climbed to humans through chase of monkeys for bushmeat nutrient, which gave rise to blood-to-blood contact.

Source: Cold Spring Harbor Perspectives In Medicine

MYTH: Humen progressed from chimpanzees .

Alain Houle/ BMC Ecology Image Competition

Chimps and humen share uncanny similarities , not the least of which is our DNA about 98.8% is identical.

However, progression productions by incremental genetic changes contributing up through many, numerous generations. Chimps and humans did share a common ancestor between 6 and 8 million years ago but a lot has changed since then.

Modern chimps evolved into a separate( though close) diverge of the ape family tree.

Roots: Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, American Museum of Natural History

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