#that one would be more significant to me if I knew anything about metal gear

[fierykitten2]

Eh, who cares how many people I ship my blorbos with *ships Falcon with Robert, Samus, Snake, Mr. Zero, Ganondorf, BS, Ryu (the one from Smash, should’ve made that clearer), Terry Bogard and the Mach Rider for some reason*

I know no one cares who I ship them with but I felt like making this post I’ll regret in half a year

[bestiesenpai]

Area 51 - Nanami Kento

This is for @natsuonii’s creature feature collab! :) It’s got alien!reader, scientist Nanami and a whole lot of weird shit I’d say. Femme reader...there’s alien pussy lol 9.8K words

link to the collab!

Content warnings: sex pollen, alien heat, reverse knot, daddy kink, blood + needle(it’s brief I promise) and random medical terms and fake science shit lol don’t look too deeply at it

“This...this is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Nanami was at a loss for words, watching as decked out military men brought in case after case of wreckage from a shot down spacecraft. Working at a highly secure government facility sure did have it’s perks, and being one of the first people to know about all this was certainly the biggest one.

Nanami had spent so much of his life studying and clawing his way to the job he was at now. He’d sacrificed so much in the name of science, in the pursuit of finding extraterrestrial life forms no matter how small and insignificant, and it was finally paying off.

“Doctor, we’ll take the embryos to your lab.” One of the men said, quickly walking away tailed by people holding glowing blue cases. He hadn’t really been briefed on what all was coming in and what exactly happened to get it here, but he was sure he would find out soon enough.

“Careful!” Another person shouted and he was pushed out of the way. Coming in through the large steel doors was what looked like a four armed monster strapped face down to a flatbed. Markings went up and down his face and body and there were an extra set of eyes staring at everyone as it was wheeled by.

“What is that creature?” Nanami mumbled, clutching his clipboard tightly. The creature was breathing hard through its nose, nostrils flaring dangerously wide and a light growl rumbled from its chest.

“It appears to be the leader of the spacecraft, we could only get the creature's name, nothing else: Sukuna.” Someone answered him, but Nanami didn’t acknowledge, he was unable to take his eyes off Sukuna.

“Incredible.” His mouth hung open like a fool, unblinking as he watched Sukuna be wheeled past him and to the elevator shaft. “How far down are they taking him?”

“I heard the chief say as far as they could. He’s highly dangerous, it was a miracle the team was able to get the upper hand.”

“I’ll have to pay him a visit soon.” Nanami had enough security clearance to go anywhere in the building, but something was telling him he’d have to ask for a lot of permissions first before making contact with Sukuna. Nanami learned quite early on that the deeper underground you went, the more power you needed to be there.

Once the final bits and pieces were brought into the facility, Nanami peeled himself off the wall and made the way to his own lab. With his badge hung proudly from his shirt pocket, Nanami made the descent and as the elevator went floor after floor and the numbers got higher and higher, he let some excited exhales out.

Going down the metal corridor, he came to his lab to see it teeming with people. Nanami often worked alone on things and to see so many people milling about in his space made him a little nervous.

“Tell me about the embryos.” Was the first thing he said when he entered, donning the white lab coat he’d left hanging by the door. Walking over to the giant test tubes lining the back wall, he peered into one of the open cases.

Nestled inside atop a pile of hay were glowing blue orbs, some too bright to look at directly. They had a light blue smoke coming off, gradually spilling out the sides of the case and if he looked hard enough Nanami could just barely see the outline of a creature inside.

“They were on the spaceship Sukuna came in on. He was hellbent on protecting them, killing five of our people right off the bat.” The military man he’d spoken to earlier was here, answering right away.

“Were they in a case like this?” Donning a pair of gloves, Nanami picked one up. It was cool to the touch and quite heavy, making the muscles in his arm work harder than expected to stay upright.

“No, he had them suspended in some type of thick goop, like clear maple syrup.”

“How scientific, thank you.” He snorted, setting the embryo back down. “Do you have any of this ‘goop’ left?”

“Only this, sir.” Holding up a capped beaker filled halfway with the fluid, the man let out a defeated sigh. “Sukuna actually swallowed most of it, I guess trying to keep the embryos from us any way possible. This stuff is crazy acidic though, it’s melted almost everything it comes in contact with.”

“This should be enough…” Already making calculations in his head, Nanami took the beaker and walked to the control panel of the test tubes. “Load up the embryos and I’ll try to mimic the solution they were in. In the meantime, I’ll put one in that should be similar enough to keep them alive for a while.”

Pressing a few buttons on the panel, the test tubes began to fill with a murky pink liquid, filling the air with a pungent aroma. The embryos were loaded in quickly and the tubes sealed off. Watching them as he walked over to a table full of supplies, Nanami grinned slightly at watching them float.

It took him little time to come up with the properties of the amniotic fluid the embryos had been in. Making slight adjustments to the formula, he watched the liquid go from murky to clear, with only a light pink tinge left.

As the days wore on, Nanami studied the embryos intensely, opting to sleep in his lab instead of the barracks provided so he wouldn’t miss a single change should any occur. Going days without sleep, a week went by without any significant change.

A soft tapping on glass roused Nanami from an impromptu nap. Drawing his head up from where it was nestled in his arms on the metal table he was slumped over, he rubbed his face roughly and looked around.

“Who is it?” He called, assuming it was someone at the door. But when no answer came and the door wasn’t opened, he fully sat up and looked around. “Where the hell-” Cutting himself off as he looked at the test tubes, Nanami almost fell out of his stool.

In the seven test tubes lining the wall, there were three embryos that had come to term. He knew some would fail, resigning himself to the possibility that all of them would, but to see three newborn aliens was beyond his wildest expectations.

“Oh my god.” Snatching his clipboard off the table, Nanami rushed to the test tubes. He was writing furiously, capturing every single detail he saw about them and even making quick sketches of what they looked like.

There were little nubs right above their behinds, what looked to be the beginnings of a tail. All of them had two sets of eyes, unopened and tiny on their infantile faces, faces that were beginning to bear the same marks Sukuna had.

The tapping on the glass, Nanami quickly found out, was from them floating freely in the tubes, softly knocking against the glass as they hung suspended in the fluid. Nanami couldn’t see any kind of umbilical cord or method to get them the possible nutrients they needed to stay alive. So he just had to hope that they woke up soon to tell him what they needed.

The babies rapidly took shape after coming to term, morphing into a human-like form right before Nanami’s eyes. It seemed that with every couple of hours that passed they grew more and more. Fingers, webbed toes, tufts of hair and tails all appeared.

“So when do you think they’ll be able to come out?” His supervisor asked, nearly a month after the first encounter. The aliens under Nanami’s care looked like full fledged adults, ones that you could see out in public and - despite a few glaring differences - not pay any mind to.

“I don’t know, ma’am. I don’t know if they can survive out here.” In the month that passed, the facility wasn’t able to get any intel from Sukuna about the embryos or why he chose to come to Earth. All he did was snarl and growl, slurring a few death threats when he could.

“Take one out and see.”

“What?” Gasping loudly, Nanami’s eyes went wide. Surely his boss didn’t mean for him to sacrifice one of them? They were too precious of an asset to possibly let die like that and Nanami was ready to put his foot down.

“Don’t worry, doctor, Sukuna’s told us a bunch of times that more of his people will be coming, and I’m willing to bet they’ll have more embryos for us to study.” Giving him a swift pat on the back, his boss turned on her heel and started to walk away. “The usual assistants will be here to help you should you need anything and don’t feel bad if they all die, that’s just how these things go.”

The parting words were less than heartwarming. Letting out a rough sigh, Nanami turned to the team of people behind him. They worked with him before, most of them idolizing him with a gleam in their eyes.

“We’ll wheel in the examining table and take them out one by one. If there’s any adverse reactions, I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it. Get the usual supplies ready, we’ll start in ten.” Giving the group a curt nod, Nanami turned back to the test tubes. Pressing his hand onto the glass of one, he closed his eyes. “God, I really hope you all don’t die.”

In ten minutes, Nanami was dressed in full hazmat gear and so was his team. The crinkling of plastic suits was loud in the otherwise deathly silent room as everyone held their breath. Draining the fluid of the first tube, Nanami swung open the door.

“Let’s take a look.” Nanami said as the body was lifted onto the table. It had no external sex organs to speak of, not even a hole for a cloaca. Cool to the touch, Nanami waited for it to show any signs of life.

“It’s not moving.” Someone called out after five minutes, scribbling it down on the notes. They’d tried everything, strapping an oxygen mask over the face, chest compressions and returning the body back to the fluid it had previously been in, but it was no use.

“Take that away to Getou’s lab, he’ll dissect it.” Waving the first body away, Nanami looked up at the second. “We need to instill a gradual change in environment or else the same thing will happen.”

“Should we try to set up a feeding tube or an IV?”

“IV, yes.”

The second attempt went marginally better than the first. Slowly shifting the fluid to one of a normal human amniotic fluid seemed to work. The alien twitched and rocked side to side, seemingly waking up from its slumber.

Drawing it out from the tube, it appeared to be just fine. Gasping for air, fluttering eyelids and squirming limbs - all things Nanami wanted to see. What he didn’t want though, was for the creature to lash out with unexpectedly sharp claws, cutting through the sleeve of his suit and drawing blood.

“Holy shit!” Stumbling back, Nanami watched in horror as the creature licked the blood from its nails. Smacking its lips together, the creature pointed at him. It was rapidly losing the color in its cheeks, struggling to form whatever words it needed.

“Blood? Do you need human blood to survive on this planet?” Nanami shouted, scrambling away from the table he’d flung himself onto and holding out his arm. “Take it! Quickly!”

“Doctor no!” A few of his assistants tried to yank him away from the examining table. They didn’t want to see the blood get drained from his body or him possibly get eaten by the creature.

“Stop it, let me do this!” Struggling with them, Nanami watched in rapt horror as the creature nodded slowly before fully collapsing on the table, drawing it’s last shaky inhale before falling limp entirely. “You fucking idiots, we just lost another one!” Pushing the people away, Nanami banged his fist angrily on the table.

“Doctor, we couldn’t let you do something so dangerous! You’re the most valuable scientist here, we can’t lose you!”

“Bullshit! I don’t care if the next one wants to swallow me whole, you let it!” Glaring at all the people in the room, Nanami began to rip his gear off. “And if it dies for any reason, I’m going to make sure none of you ever find work again.”

With the threat hanging heavily in the air, Nanami stormed over to the control panel one last time, punching in the codes needed to change the fluid on the remaining test tube. His arm was slowly leaking blood and he could feel the warmth drip down to his hand.

“Get me an IV, I’m going to give this last one a blood transfusion.”

“Doctor, are you sure you-”

“If you question me one more time I’ll cut your tongue out. Now do as I say.” Pulling up a chair, Nanami sat down and leaned his head against the cold glass of the tube. None of this was going as he wanted; Nanami didn’t plan to lose two out of three creatures, nor to give blood to the last one.

Hooking up an IV, Nanami watched the blood drain from his arm, flowing up and into the top of the test tube where there was a needle inserted into the last alien. Trying not to get too woozy as he was drained of blood, Nanami pressed his forehead to the glass and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I don’t believe in you but God if you’re out there, please make this work.”

“Doctor?” He wasn’t sure when he passed out, but when Nanami came to, he had a crowd of people gawking at him.

“Yes? What?” The IV was out of his arm and there was a blanket over him and as he tried to get out of his chair he nearly fell.

“L-look behind you.” Pointing with a shaking finger, the assistant that woke him up turned him to face the test tube.

“Why do you all look so-” Turning around, Nanami stumbled back, for once grateful to have someone else in the lab to catch him. “Scared?” Whispering out the last word in a high pitched voice, Nanami couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The once nondescript alien in the tube was now a fully fledged human being. With complete and fairly dark markings on their face, breasts and a vagina, the creature before him could be mistaken for any other adult.

And the thing that was most shocking was the way all four eyes honed in on Nanami, tracking his every move. Pressing it’s forehead and hands to the glass, the creature turned as Nanami walked side to side.

“It’s been watching you since you passed out.”

“How long has it been like that?” He asked, getting closer to the test tube.

“It just suddenly changed shortly after you lost consciousness. A flash of light went off and poof, it looked like that.” Pressing his hand to the glass, Nanami let out a breathless laugh as the creature scurried back only to return in mere seconds.

“Open the tube, we have to let it out.” Unable to take his eyes off the creature, Nanami could hardly wait for all the fluid to be drained before opening up the test tube and helping the creature out. Surprisingly steady on its feet, Nanami barely had to help it stand upright.

“Hello.” He smiled, shrugging off his lab coat and placing it over its shoulders. “Welcome to Earth.”

“Hello.” You said back, attempting to smile as well. “Welcome to Earth.”

When Nanami first got the embryos, he wasn’t expecting anything to come out of them. The most he thought would happen was possible growth but never any of them coming to term and certainly never of them to actually be able to communicate.

It appears you were destined to prove him wrong, however. Nearly the moment you stepped out of the test tube, dripping in fluid and with a long tail you couldn’t quite control, you exceeded all of Nanami’s expectations - not that he even had any to begin with, especially not when it came to taking you out of the tube.

The first hour, you were sitting perfectly still while the team ran tests on you. Pressing a cold stethoscope to your chest, a few of them got a giggle out of the way you gasped and squirmed. Nanami watched it all happen, taking calculated notes and even doing some of the tests himself.

“What’s your name?” He questioned after another hour of hearing you repeat the phrases around you. Staring at him from the stool you were perched on, you tilted your head. It was only you and him left in the lab now, he sent everyone else away, wanting a chance to study you on his own.

“What’s your name?” You parroted back, mimicking the way Nanami had his arms crossed over his chest.

“My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”

“Nanami Kento.” He made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes at the giggle you let out. He understood he was dealing with an alien, one that might never be able to fully communicate the way he desired, but he wanted to get somewhere.

“What’ll it take for you to stop copying me?”

“Reading a book.” He’d meant it as a rhetorical question, and hearing your voice form a stilted sentence all on it’s own was a big surprise. Nodding curtly, Nanami walked over to a set of bookcases and grabbed a thick dictionary and a thesaurus, placing them onto the table next to you. Flipping open the first page of the dictionary, Nanami pointed at the words.

“Can you read these?”

“Mhmm!” Leaning over, your eyes scanned the script.

“Good, read all of it and tell me when you’re done.” Setting up a chair on the other side of the table, Nanami fixed a pile of notes and other documents he needed to work over. He could take time to catch up his reports while you-

“Done!” Slamming the dictionary closed, you picked up the thesaurus. “I have to read this too?”

“Y-yes.” Nanami’s mouth hung open slightly as he watched you speed through the second book. He expected this whole process to take an hour at least but you were done with both books in just a few minutes.

“All finished.” You were still a little unsure of forming sentences, lifting your voice in slight question at the end.

“How did you do that so fast?”

“When Mother made us, she gave us all the information she could on this planet, including rudimentary language. I just needed a way to conceptualize actually speaking on my own.”

“Who’s Mother?” Grabbing his pen, Nanami began to scribble down what you were saying.

“Mother is the one that made us. All of us, me, my companions, and Sukuna too.”

“Right…” Nanami’s hand hesitated at the mention of Sukuna, drawing inky swirls in place of words. “Then Mother is the one who sent you here with him?”

“Yes! She said that to take over this planet, we would need to assimilate to the environment and that we’d need a strong warrior to protect us.” You had a dreamy look in your eyes, no doubt thinking about Sukuna. “So far I like this-”

“Hold on, take over the planet?”

“It’s what my people do: we come to a planet, impregnate the population and take over.” He was sure there was more to it than that but for his own peace of mind Nanami didn’t question it further. For now, he wanted to focus on the positives, mainly the one of you finally speaking on your own.

“So…” Nanami struggled to find the next topic of conversation.

“Oh, I remember my name now! It’s (Y/N).”

“Did Mother also give you that name?”

“She did!” You truly looked overjoyed to be talking about all this. The smile on your face led to Nanami being able to see the sharp canine teeth in your mouth, akin to a set of teeth he’d find in a vampire movie.

“So (Y/N), I have a question. I gave you my blood so you’d be able to live on this planet.” He paused to make sure you were following along. “I want to know why you’re a female when you received male donor blood.”

“Mother determined which gender would be useful for me to have on this planet, so all I needed was your DNA to complete the transformation and become a human.”

“Mother thinks humans have those extra eyes and a tail?” Nanami snorted at that, there were too many things to give away your unhuman origins that couldn’t be ignored.

“Sukuna is supposed to teach us how to hide them until we need them.” Your shoulders visibly slumped and you looked around. “Where is he? He was supposed to be here when we woke up.”

“He’s somewhere else-”

“Where? Where is he?” Putting both palms flat on the table, you leaned forward. You seemed desperate, your brows scrunching together as you worried your lip. “I can tell he’s close, but where is he exactly?”

Nanami heard what you said. He knew exactly the words that were spoken and their meaning. But he was having a hard time thinking of anything as he suddenly became aware again of the fact that you were still naked, the lab coat you had on falling open to reveal your breasts.

“How about we talk about that while you get dressed in something more appropriate?” Clearing his throat roughly, Nanami pushed away from the table. His cheeks were getting a bit warm and he didn’t want you to see.

“No, tell me where Sukuna is!” Slapping your hands loudly on the table, you glared sharply at Nanami when he tried to come closer. “I don’t want to be alone any longer! My companions didn’t make it, he’s all I have!”

“(Y/N)...” Sighing softly, Nanami didn’t know what to do. If he tried to raise his hand, you growled at him, flexing your fingers as if you were going to strike him. He couldn’t tell you where Sukuna was, no matter what. “You’re- you’re not alone.”

“What do you mean?” Your face softened just a fraction, and you leaned back as Nanami lifted his hand slowly, placing it on the table near your own hand.

“You have me.” Nanami felt something odd twisting his stomach, something that told him this simultaneously was a good and bad idea. It wasn’t wise to say this to you, to try and build some kind of relationship beyond a scientist and his test subject, but what did he have to lose? You were the first alien he’d ever come in contact with, there were bound to be some risks he’d have to take to keep you happy.

“Really?” Relaxing your body, you let your hand get closer to Nanami’s.

“Really.” Fully grabbing your hand now, Nanami tugged you from the stool, craning his head away to avoid looking at your open chest. “Now follow me, I think there’s some scrubs in one of these drawers.”

“Nanami, I’m hungry.” After finding you a set of clothes buried in a drawer and cutting a hole in the bottoms for your tail, Nanami was greeted with the sound of your growling stomach.

“What do you eat?”

“Whatever you eat.” Taking up residence on the singular fold out couch Nanami used to sleep on, you watched him pick up the phone on his desk.

“Let’s have some pasta then.”

While Nanami preferred to cook his food himself rather than ordering it from upstairs, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that the cafeteria food was less than ideal. You seemed to love the dish he gave you, eating it with no hesitation and a smile on your face.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about your kind?” Picking over his food, Nanami watched you finish eating in record time and pushed his plate over to you.

“Like what?” Tilting your head to the side, you gladly took his food.

“Anything that comes to mind like cultural things, maybe you celebrate holidays?”

“We do! I was created to leave the planet, but others get to stay and cultivate life there. We have something close to what you call Christmas and others for things you wouldn’t understand.”

“Really? You’ll have to write them down for me later.” Nodding to himself, he made the mental note to teach you how to write. Glancing down at the two now empty plates before you, Nanami flicked his head toward the phone. “Fancy some more?”

As it reached midnight, Nanami became starkly aware of the fact there was only one place for the both of you to sleep. He wasn’t sure how much sleep you actually needed or if you needed any at all for that matter, but he knew for sure that sleeping on the same fold out mattress with you would be crossing a line he wasn’t ready for. It was already too short to hold his entire frame, and putting two bodies side by side wouldn’t be a good idea.

“(Y/N), are you tired?” Standing up from the couch, he motioned for you to stand as well.

“Yes.” Your voice was chipper as ever, not a hint of exhaustion heard. You watched with rapt interest as Nanami unfolded the mattress and set it on the ground.

“Alright, well you’ll be sleeping here and I’ll be sleeping in the barracks.”

“I’m going to be alone?”

“Is that a problem?” Quirking a brow, Nanami glanced at you.

“Well not necessarily but I- I don’t want to be alone. Not on my first night, at least.” Curling your tail on the ground, you worried your fingers, claws clicking together as you did. Nanami could feel his resolve wearing down, the nervous look you tried to hide made his fingers flex; he felt an overarching urge to protect you.

“I’ll grab another couch from the lab next door.” Turning on his heel, Nanami took deep breaths as he left the room. Forcing his head to get clear, he drug another couch into his lab, setting it up across from the first one.

“Is this what you call a sleepover?” You asked, watching Nanami set up both couches with blankets and pillows.

“You could say that, yes.” A strange giggle left your mouth and it made Nanami pause and look at you. “What was that sound?”

“A laugh?” Dropping your face in confusion, you looked him straight in the eye. “Is something wrong?”

“No no it’s just-” clearing his throat loudly, Nanami rushed out the next words, “That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” At his admittance, you giggled again and he had to bite his lip hard from audibly swooning.

“Mother made it special for me, she makes all her children special.” Mimicking the way Nanami climbed into bed, you laid down and stared at the dark ceiling. “Only some of us can laugh like that, and others have pheromones and what not to attract the native people on a new planet.”

“(Y/N), do you have special pheromones too?” Your casual mention of impregnating and taking over the whole planet flashed in his head.

“I think I do, why else would you have agreed to stay here with me?”

“Good to know.” Nanami would have to install a high tech air filter later, he didn’t like the idea of slowly succumbing to your desires. Fully laying down in bed, he drew the blankets up to his chin and tried not to think of it anymore. “Good night.”

For a month Nanami studied you nonstop. Gathering medical information, he discovered you had three stomachs and two hearts. Through plenty of trial and error you learned how to keep the swinging of your tail under control and not trip him anymore. He even learned your favorite foods and the relative location of your home planet in the galaxy.

When Nanami had to step out for meetings, he begrudgingly let fellow scientist Gojo watch over you. The best in his field and horribly obnoxious about it, Nanami tried to limit the time you two spent together. He didn’t need Gojo influencing you too much and ruining the work Nanami had put into acclimating you to society in an appropriate way.

“You’re back!” It was like he was coming home from work whenever you greeted him like that. You bounded over to the door from wherever you were and bounced on your toes, eager to talk to him about what he’d done while away.

“Mhmm. How’s it been with Gojo?” Nanami glanced up at said man, not liking the fact that he was lounging on the couch with his laptop perched precariously on his thigh.

“It’s great! He showed me something really interesting.” A shy giggle left your lips and you avoided further eye contact with Nanami.

“What is it?” Narrowing his eyes, Nanami began to glower at Gojo, who started to shrink under his gaze.

“(Y/N), don’t you have something to say first?” Gojo smirked, barely hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

“Oh, you’re right!” Squaring your shoulders at Nanami, you took a deep breath. “Welcome back, daddy!” Taking a brief glance at Gojo, you cupped your cheeks and stuck your tongue out, crossing your eyes for extra measure.

“W-what the fuck!” Scrambling back in shock, Nanami glared sharply at Gojo as a harsh red flush coated his cheeks. He was ashamed to admit he’d seen that face before, late at night when he was too restless to sleep and needed something to help soothe his mind.

“What’s wrong, Kento? Do you not like what (Y/N)’s doin’?” The dark chuckle behind Gojo’s words had Nanami wanting to throttle him. Of course he liked it, he was a grown man wasn’t he? Not to mention Nanami couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid down with another warm body like that and the face you were making was bringing several repressed thoughts to the surface.

Unable to form the proper words, Nanami side stepped you and went to his desk, placing files down that needed to be typed out later and trying to still his rapid heartbeat. The way you said that sentence so enthusiastically, saliva making your tongue glisten in the light - it was too much for him to deal with so abruptly.

“Why’d you teach her that shit?” Nanami growled, covering the lower half of his face with his trembling hand.

“(Y/N) deserves to know all aspects of human life, wouldn’t you agree?” Closing his laptop, Gojo stood up and walked to the door. “Besides Kento, I know you get lonely at night.” Smiling sweetly at you, Gojo left the room without any further comment.

“(Y/N).” With his back still facing you, Nanami heaved a sigh.

“Yes?” You said slowly, relaxing your body. The tension rolled off Nanami in waves, making the air thick and uncomfortable. It was hard to read whether he was angry or not.

“What has Gojo been teaching you?” The subtle sag in his shoulders isn’t missed by you, making you scramble to the desk and face him.

“I don’t know! He said there were some interesting things you’d yet to show me and he pulled up some websites and- and-” A bit of fear spiked in your head. You’d only gone along with what Gojo said was right, Nanami had entrusted you to his care after all and your whole reason for being on the planet was to assimilate. “Are you mad at me?” Rubbing at your four eyes to stem a sudden wave of anxious tears, you looked at Nanami, waiting nervously for his answer.

“Not at you. Him.” Sensing your oncoming distraught, Nanami shook his head and cleared his throat. “I want you to learn all the good things of human life and well-”

“Sex isn’t a good thing?” You gasped, leaning your hands on the desk.

“Did he teach you about sex?” Nanami nearly yelled back.

“He did! We read a lot of medical journals about it, it releases so many good chemicals into the human brain! And then Gojo went to this website called PornHub and-”

“He what?!” A heart attack. Nanami was going to have a heart attack.

“Let me finish! He showed me humans having sex and it looked like they were having a great time!” Your breath was coming out short and Nanami could hear the drag of your tail on the ground as you got worked up. “But it didn’t do anything to me, I haven’t reached that point yet!” He didn’t understand what you meant and while the urge to drown himself in the bottle of dark liquor he kept hidden away tugged at him, his pursuit for knowledge was greater.

“What do you mean you ‘haven’t reached that point yet’?” Collapsing into the desk chair, Nanami was more worked up than he thought. The shock of hearing you call him daddy, learning that you discovered what sex was and now he was going to know when you would begin to show interest in such a thing.

“Sexual maturity, I’m not there yet, so seeing that stuff didn’t do anything to me.”

“When will you be?” He pressed, grabbing a pen and getting ready to write down whatever you said on the corner of a file.

“It’s been a month since I’ve transformed, so in about a week or two.”

“That fast?” Nanami blanched, mind spinning at how he was going to deal with that. “Humans take years, though, shouldn’t my blood affect that?”

“No, my DNA only takes what it needs from yours. My base mechanics like lifespan and in this case sexual maturity are all hardwired by Mother. They won’t change just because a few drops of your blood mix in.”

“So...so what does that mean for you? Do you need some kind of special uh- a special thing or-?” His cheeks and ears burned fiercely and Nanami cleared his throat in the middle of the sentence. He knew exactly what he meant by ‘a special thing’ but he couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of you.

“I don’t know, actually.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sat on the edge of his desk. “Sukuna is supposed to tell me what happens and what to do after we pick out a suitable mate for me.”

There was that mention of Sukuna again. The creature buried so far underground some people wondered if he was passing the Earth's mantle. He’d settled down in the month since your arrival, seemingly knowing that you had emerged from the embryo and survived. He still refused to give any answers and you hadn’t mentioned him in nearly three weeks.

“You don’t need him. We can figure it out once it gets here.” Shaking his head, Nanami could feel himself getting a little high off your pheromones with you sitting so close. The air filter he put into the room could only do so much when your scent rolled off in such thick waves.

“Okay.” Sighing the word, you resigned yourself to playing with your fingers. Silence washed over the room, less tense than before but still tainted with an edge to it. Both of you were flushed from talking about this subject and Nanami was glad you had your back to him.

“(Y/N), I have another question.” A few minutes later, Nanami couldn’t hold back the question burning in his mind. You let out a hum of acknowledgement but didn’t face him. “What would be a suitable mate for you? What kind of human?”

He blamed it on your pheromones, he blamed every last less than professional thought in his head on your pheromones and what you did to him and he especially blamed Gojo for forcing this topic of conversation to come up. Nanami tried to reason with himself, put the narrative in his head that he wanted to know for science, but in the dark recesses of his mind Nanami wanted to know who your type was if you even had one.

“Well actually, a human like you is perfect.” Your back curved just a little to keep your face hidden as you spoke. The words hung in the air, leaving Nanami’s mouth hanging slightly open and his mind bouncing to a hundred different places at once.

“Like me?” He whispered, barely registering the words coming out of his mouth.

“Exactly like you.” This time you looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes narrowing as you took in his reaction. His shock seemed to be enough for you, your secondary eyes pinching closed as you smiled, and you turned back to face forward. “Nanami, I’m hungry.”

Having grown accustomed to your new home, you slid off the desk and to the couch that was yours. Nanami’s eyes were glued to your back, watching the way your tail moved on the ground as you walked. His throat was suddenly thick, there were plenty of things he wanted to say, things that would definitely violate his code of ethics.

“Nanami.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, back to reality where you were far away from arms reach. The weight of your eyes bore right back into him and Nanami knew he’d been caught staring.

“Yes?” He forced the word out, his tongue feeling heavy and foreign in his mouth.

“Should we have pasta tonight?”

Nanami hardly slept at all that night, plagued with ideas of what you thought about him and less than savory images of you and your body. Shame settled over him like a second blanket as he tossed and turned throughout the night, trying to rid his mind of such things to no avail.

In the morning, Nanami got rid of the second couch and made the decision to sleep in the barracks when he needed to. While nothing inherently sexual had occurred, he still felt like he betrayed some sort of trust between you two, sullied the pure relationship you had together.

Ignoring your whines and protests, he also made the decision to get rid of Gojo as your babysitter. He didn’t want or need your mind filled with things he didn’t deem appropriate and Gojo was the main perpetrator of such things, and he was confident enough that he could leave you alone for a few hours and nothing bad would happen.

It almost hurts to leave you alone at night, the old ritual of slowly nudging you along your night time routine and laying down on adjacent mattresses was now replaced by getting you ready for bed but then leaving shortly after you were all tucked in. Sometimes you whined and wanted him to stay, claiming that you didn’t sleep as well without him there, and sometimes Nanami hesitated at the door before steeling his resolve and leaving.

He doubts he’ll ever tell you that he stopped sleeping as well too.

An abrupt evening meeting three weeks later called him away from you sooner than either of you would have liked. You’d developed a cough and a bit of a rash over the course of time and while Nanami was sure this meant you were reaching sexual maturity, he was still hell bent on finding some medicine to help you, not wanting to go to this meeting about another potential UFO sighting.

“(Y/N), I’m back and I-” Nanami all but ran back to his laboratory with some medicine he’d swiped from Gojo. He was worried for you, not just as a scientist but as a friend. Throwing open the door and locking it quickly to contain any possible airborne particles, Nanami was assaulted with the harsh smell of something sweetly floral.

“N-nanami!” His eyes immediately find you, writhing in what looks like agony on the mattress he’d pulled out for you before leaving. Walking quickly over to you, every inhale he made felt like he was breathing in a thick fog.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Coughing and putting a hand over his face, he looked over you. It was normal for you to just wear a long, oversized t-shirt Gojo got you from a local thrift store to sleep and right now it was clinging tightly to your body from the sweat pouring out of you.

“Nanami!” Shaking your head side to side, he could see the tears leaking out of your eyes. Against his better judgement, Nanami crouched down on one knee and put a hand on your forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up.” Pulling his fingers away, there was a light yellow powdery film left on them. “(Y/N) what is this? Has it started?” The substance tingled on his fingers, making them go slightly numb.

There was a pitiful noise from you as a response and a limp nod, and Nanami rushed to the sink to wash off his hands. The scent in the room was overwhelming, almost choking him with every inhale he made. Turning the ventilation system on as high as it could go did nothing and there was still pollen visibly floating in the air.

“I have to go, I can’t be here.”

“No!” You cried, falling out of bed with a loud thump and crawling toward Nanami. “D-don’t leave!”

“I have to, this stuff isn’t good for me.” Nanami kept his back to you, hastily trying to grab some things from his desk. His cock was already beginning to stiffen painfully and the sounds you were making were echoing inside his head.

“Wait!” Tugging on his pant leg, you dug your claws into it.

“(Y/N), let go.” He tried to shake you off, staunchly avoiding eye contact. The heat on his skin was rising and if Nanami were to look in a mirror he would see how red he was. You refused to let go, sitting up on weak knees and pushing your hand further up his leg.

“D-daddy, please! Help me!”

That was it. That was the moment that broke Nanami Kento. He knows Gojo has told you that he likes to be called that in bed, among other things. He knows that the pollen in the air is what’s making his head impossibly foggy with only one thing able to be focused on. Nanami knows that if he stays here any longer, he’ll do something that he won’t regret, but that might cost him his job.

“Daddy…” Emboldened by unbridled desperation, you force Nanami to face you with strength he didn’t know you possessed. Eye to eye with his cock straining against his slacks, you shove your face right into it.

“(Y/N)!” Your name comes out as a rough groan from his lips and Nanami’s hands fly to grab the back of your head. As he grips your head, Nanami makes no move to pull you away and doesn’t stop you from rubbing your face along his clothed cock.

“Please please please, just this once! I need to do this-” The pleading you're doing is muffled by your mouth running along fabric, words slurred and barely coming out properly. Just from this stimulation alone Nanami can feel his balls tighten like he’s about to cum.

“Sto-stop, stop this.” Nanami’s own sense of morals, his will to do anything besides being in this room with you was going to be torn to shreds the longer you touched him. And it was, as he came in his pants, rutting his hips like a pathetic teenager into your face.

He came but his cock was still as hard as before, maybe even more so. There was no reprieve from the painful need to be stimulated, to feel you touch him again and again and again. With a mangled groan, he shoves your head away and grabs his waistband.

Swatting your hands away that still rest on his hips, Nanami undoes his belt and shoves his pants and underwear down to the ground. His cock slaps against his dress shirt, glistening from the previous load of cum and leaking more like he’s never seen before.

“What did you do to me?” He asks under his breath, feeling sweat pooling on his skin despite being half naked. As he takes off his remaining clothes, Nanami can feel the tingle from the pollen settling all over him, sticking to his hair and to every crevice of his body.

“D’ya like it, daddy? That’s what M-mother chose for me, it’s a new- a new evolution we got from a previous planet.” It’s amazing that you can stand on your own feet despite the way your legs shake violently. Nanami can tell you’re in a sorry state, so he lets you lead him to the mattress and fall back onto it.

“Mother made you pollen? How interesting.” Somewhere far back in his head, he really did find it genuinely interesting. But right now he was merely making conversation, settling on the bed as you climbed on top of him and took your wet shirt off.

The rash that had been on your skin was now turning into powdery pollen before his very eyes, falling off and into the air like a flower's pollen would. Laying down on Nanami, pressing your breasts against his chest, you fell into a kiss with him.

Even though it was your first kiss, Nanami was the one left feeling inexperienced as you slotted your mouths together and slid your tongue past his lips. Even your saliva was sweet as it dripped it into his mouth and down the sides. Nanami’s hands roamed your body, pinching into your sides and squeezing your ass painfully tight. Surprisingly, your tail didn’t get in the way, just languidly swaying side to side and sometimes tickling his shins.

“Daddy, please- I want more!” You whined loudly, breaking the kiss to trail your lips along his neck and chest and nip at the skin every so often.

“Tell me. Tell- tell daddy what you want.” There was the slightest hesitation, a tiny tinge of shame for doing this with you that got washed away as quickly as it came up by your wet cunt sliding against his cock.

“I want you inside me.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you stroked it slowly, unable to focus on putting it in and kissing him at the same time. Giving up with a grunt, you settled for rubbing your cunt along his shaft.

“Shit, roll over.” Flipping you with ease, Nanami grabs onto your thighs and holds them apart. Staring down at your cunt, it looks just like any other human sex organ, giving Nanami some peace of mind that he wouldn’t need to do anything too complicated to make you feel good.

You whine again when he doesn’t immediately push himself balls deep into you, instead laying on his stomach and giving your inner thighs kisses. Nanami grabs your hands, silently telling you to hold your legs apart as he delves in deeper.

One lick up your slit and you fall apart so easily, gushing around his mouth so much Nanami is sure you just had an orgasm. Greedily drinking it up, Nanami can attest that this is the best thing he’s ever tasted. Burying his face into your heat, he can’t keep his tongue in one place for too long, torn between pushing it deep inside you and licking at your swollen clit.

You’ve given up holding your legs open a while ago. As Nanami sucked on your clit, your thighs clamped down around his head and your fingers threaded through his hair. The feeling of his mouth on you was the best you’d ever experienced in your short time being alive and it was one you’d think about forever.

“Oh my- daddy, I-” Your eyes were closed so tightly you were seeing stars and you were sure Nanami couldn’t breathe anymore from how tightly you squeezed him as you came. His head thrashed side to side, tongue swiping all along your sex and inner thighs to catch all of your release.

“This is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Wrenching his head away before he passed out, Nanami laid limply on the bed. As the words left his mouth he remembered all those weeks ago now when you first came to him as just a tiny, glowing embryo. He never would have been able to imagine that you’d be here, turning him to lay on his back and crawling between his legs.

Grabbing the base of his cock firmly, you gave one lick to the tip before engulfing it fully in your mouth. Nanami’s back arched high off the bed in shock, surprised at the lack of hesitation from you and how easily he hit the back of your throat.

“S-slow down a little.” He panted, trying to cup your face and get you to look at him. Swatting his hand away, you let your tongue loll in your mouth as you sucked him off, easily planting your nose on his lower stomach and swallowing around him.

It must have been the pollen in the air to make him cum so quickly, Nanami reasoned with a harsh blush on his face. That was the only explanation for why he was currently spilling a thick load of cum down your throat in less than two minutes of you sucking him off.

“You taste so good, daddy.” Pulling off his cock, you licked the sides and down to his balls, gently sucking one into your mouth and looking up at him. Despite just cumming, Nanami felt another orgasm wash over him and another wave of cum came out, dribbling down the sides of his cock and onto your face.

Slapping a hand over his face, Nanami let out a few moans he’d been holding back. There was no way he would ever be able to look at you the same way after seeing your face covered in his seed.

“C’mere.” Stopping you from your current ministrations, he pulled you to lay over top of him again. Grabbing your sweaty shirt from the ground, he wiped the cum off your face, kissing your skin after he wiped it clean.

“Daddy, will you put it in already?” You cried, smacking your ass against his thighs angrily.

“Be patient, baby.” Petting down your back, Nanami shushed you, giving your ass a quick pinch before gripping the base of his cock. Keeping a hand on your hip to keep you steady, he helped you sink down on his cock, easily all the way to the hilt.

Digging your claws into his chest, you let out a loud howl. Finally you were getting what you really needed, the feeling of Nanami’s cock hugged tightly by your cunt spreading a warm feeling throughout your body.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He hissed as you dragged your hips upward and back down again. Sure he’d been with other women before but none like this. Your cunt squeezed him incredibly tight, making it impossible for him to do anything other than lay back and let you move however you saw fit.

You weren’t shy in your motions either, riding his cock with a dizzying confidence and nearly fumbling down into a heap of loud moans on more than one occasion. Even with all the prep before your arrival to the planet and research you’d done about sex and the human experience, nothing could have prepared you for how good it actually felt during your heat.

Nanami was sure everyone within the compound could hear what was going on in the room, your noises were as loud as they’d ever been. The sound was as beautiful as when you laughed, hypnotizing him further into compliance.

“Shit!” He cursed harshly, nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he came. As his orgasm came over him, Nanami got no break from the pleasurable waves washing over him because you refused to stop.

“More, more!” You panted, working even harder to get him to cum again. With the added vigor, more pollen released into the air and Nanami breathed in a deep mouthful. Snaking an arm around your back, Nanami rolled you over, acting on pure instinct as he pushed and pulled your body into a mating press.

“You’re so- so demanding, baby.” The pet name came without thinking, not that Nanami was doing a whole lot as he pounded the full length of his cock into you. He wasn’t sure you could hear him, even while being face to face like this. There were too many sounds in the room, the moans that left both of you freely, the wet slapping of skin against skin and the creak of the old mattress springs.

“Please, give it all to me!” Throwing your head back, your cunt spasmed around Nanami’s cock for the umpteenth time, making another gush of your release coat everything within its reach.

Nanami was sure you’d have bruises later from how hard he gripped you but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. The only thing on his mind was fucking you so hard you stopped babbling and crying like a baby for more of him. He wanted to give you all that he had and more until he himself collapsed as well.

Pushing a hand between your bodies, when he touched your clit Nanami briefly went deaf, unprepared for the incredibly high pitched moan that left your lips. His ears were ringing fiercely but he kept going, refusing to take his eyes off the way your mouth fell open as he rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“H-how many- how many times have you cum?” He gasped, feeling the very beginnings of a burn in his thighs.

“Not enough, it’s not enough.” Thrashing your head against the mattress, you wound your arms around his shoulders. ��I need more, daddy.”

“I don’t have any more.” Nanami spoke around the smothering kisses you gave him.

“You do! Just- just a few more!” He wasn’t really in a position to argue with you, you were holding onto him with far more strength than he could ever hope to possess, and while the pollen on your skin had started to diminish there was still a lot in the air that refused to let him truly come to a stop.

As if on command, Nanami felt his balls tighten up and he came again. The arms holding him up broke down and he fell on top of you, burrowing his face into your neck and holding your hips up with his hands.

“Fuck, baby-” With his eyes squeezed shut, Nanami lost track of where he actually was. Nothing mattered except for the feeling of your body underneath him and your cunt holding him in a vice grip. There wasn’t any reason to keep track of how many times he’d emptied a load inside you, so when he did it again so soon after the other one, Nanami paid it no mind.

“It’s coming!” You gasped suddenly, cradling the back of Nanami’s head as your body suddenly came to a stop. Unable to stammer out a question as to what was coming, Nanami was met with the harsh shock of your cunt getting so tight he couldn’t move any further.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you sobbed openly, words slurring together. Nanami was only able to catch something about a ‘seal’ and how you were making Mother so proud for your first heat cycle on Earth.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Craning his head down, Nanami was just barely able to see the swollen flesh of your sex encompassing his cock.

“Y-you humans would call this a knot, right?” Shifting your hips a little, you slowly unwind your legs from around Nanami and let them lay on the bed. “I have to keep you inside for a while.”

“You’re going to get pregnant though.” With his mind still in disarray, Nanami found that he didn’t actually care. He knew that was why you came to the planet and he was willing to help you fulfill your mission.

“Not this first time, I’m only keeping it for later.”

“Of course an alien has sperm storage.” Mumbling to himself, Nanami felt the aches in his body finally starting to settle in as the rest of the pollen was cleared out of the air and the world around him returned to normal. Laying down as gently as possible, Nanami rolled you onto your side and hooked your leg over him. “How long will we be like this?”

“At least another five minutes.” Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin. Taking a deep breath, Nanami felt around for the blanket you used that had managed to stay on the bed during all the moving. Throwing it over the two of you, he let out a sigh.

“I can wait five minutes.” No doubt there was going to be a lot of explaining to do on his part, and he could possibly get fired, but Nanami refused to think about that right now. He was far too tired, and the way you cuddled into him had not an ounce of regret or shame going through him. He would do it all again in a heartbeat.

“Nanami?” You whispered, fighting through sleep.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Did you know what love truly was? Did you have the capacity to love him like any other human, or were you thinking of a different emotion that you wanted to convey? Maybe you loved him in a way that he couldn’t understand and never would, or perhaps you were lying to further your agenda.

“I love you too.” Kissing the top of your head, Nanami pushed all other thoughts out of his head that could lead him to a negative outcome. Focusing on the sound of your breathing, he knew you had fallen asleep, and he kissed you again. “Yeah...I love you too.”

[chokemeanakin]

Okay so I was thinking maybe something along the lines of fluffy Anakin coming home from a long mission and just wanting to be held and loved on by his significant other? I was thinking of stuff like running fingers through hair, forehead kisses, gentle caresses and the like please! Thank you love!

Thank you for the request! I had such a good time writing it 🥰 (also I totally wasn’t scream-crying to Miley Cyrus’s ‘Look at You’ the whole time🥴🤫)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Loving on You - Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader

You had been waiting for Anakin’s arrival all day, excited to see your secret lover after he had been deployed on a mission for two whole weeks. You were in the middle of volunteering to guard the Jedi archives when he returned, and every second you weren’t running toward the star-fighter hangar was a second more that your patience was stretching thin. Jocasta Nu ended up setting you free early, noting the way you were antsily fidgeting and looking towards the windows.

An hour had passed since he arrived, and you were just leaving the archives. He must be finishing up his report to the Council, so you headed that way. Coincidentally, you ran into his master on your way over, almost smacking straight into him.

“Obi-Wan!” you exclaimed, out of breath. “I saw you and Anakin just got back from your mission. Do you know where he is?”

Something was off. The lines in Obi-Wan’s face looked deeper, eyebags more prominent, and the light wasn’t really reaching his eyes. He tilted his head behind him, gesturing to the dorm rooms.

“Unfortunately, you just missed him,” he sighed, “I believe he went looking for you in your room.”

“Are… are you alright?”

Obi-Wan forced a smile onto his face, although you could tell it took effort. “I’m just fine. Although I don’t think I can say the same for Anakin.”

Your blood immediately ran cold. “What happened? Did he get hurt?”

“No, no, he’s not injured. The mission was just… upsetting for him. I’m sure he’ll want to tell you about it.”

You blew out a breath of relief and then put a comforting hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’ll let you get some rest then. See you tomorrow.”

He bowed his head at you and you went your separate ways. As soon as you turned the corner, you bounded down the hallways to your room. Closing the door behind you, excitement grew in your veins as you saw the soft glow of a light on in the living room. He was home.

You walked into the living room, not seeing anyone except for a metal ball floating a couple inches above the couch. Peering over the back, you saw Anakin lying down, floating the decoration around with a hard look on his face. He was still dressed in all of his Jedi gear, not even bothering to take off his boots.

“Hi,” you hugged the back of the couch, smiling down at Anakin with your chin on your hands.

As always, the feeling of seeing his face after so long sent warmth down your spine. There was always that fear, no matter how many times he assured you otherwise, that one of these days he would not come back from a mission. It kept you up on the nights he was too busy to send you a hologram message letting you know he was okay, and you found you had to throw yourself into miscellaneous projects to keep your mind off of worst-case scenarios while he was gone. Staying busy was your only way to cope with the fear... But oh, how sweet it was to know he was here now.

Anakin’s lips twitched into a tiny smile of acknowledgement before it disappeared. “Hi, my love.”

Your face fell. Yeah… Obi-Wan was right. Anakin was upset, and you were gaging that it was a sad kind of upset this time. You were used to his anger and frustration, but you’d be lying if you said his sorrow scared you the most. He could fall to such extreme lows, it was almost impossible for even you to pull him back. It really didn’t help that you were shit at dealing with emotions either.

You bit your lip, looking at the ball he was floating around in the air. “I heard the mission was tough.”

“We were successful,” Anakin huffed lightly and caught the ball in his hand, placing it on the table beside him. “Or at least, the Council seems to think so.”

“What happened?”

He began to pick at thread from the sleeve of his Jedi robe. “We took back the alliance with Lim’Shor. Drove the Separatists away. Dooku escaped before we could intercept his ship… which is typical.”

“So…” you tilted your head. You still weren’t sure what had him in such a forlorn mood.

Anakin played with his hands in his lap, twisting and pulling at the sleeves of his robe. He was frowning, not the usual boy who was usually so full of life and excitement after completing a mission.

“Lim’Shor is in the outer rims. A lawless planet where slavery is common. Even with this alliance… it’s not under Republic rule.” He paused, jaw clenching. “While we could help keep the Separatist’s oppression at bay, there was nothing we could do to help themselves.”

Oh. Fuck.

Anakin was very senstive toward the topic of slavery-- rightfully so. With his troubled past, and what happened to his mother… you couldn’t even imagine the pain and anger it had caused him, and still plagues him to this day. The nightmares, the grief, the unbridled rage. You had seen it all, those terrible side effects of living through such a horrendous practice. It was no small miracle he had turned out to be the kind, golden-hearted man he was today-- and no wonder why he was so upset right now.

You made your way to the front of the couch, pushing the table away so that you could sit on the floor before Anakin. Although he wouldn’t look at you, the guilt swimming in his eyes broke your heart.

“They’re right. There’s nothing you can do-- not yet, at least,” you offered quietly. “With the war going on, you can see why the Council needed you here. But once it’s all over, we can go back. We can free all the slaves, everywhere, just like you’ve always dreamed of doing.”

Anakin finally turned to look at you. There was a sparkle in his eye, and you were afraid it was a tear, but he was also smiling. It was a tiny, weak smile, but it was there.

“I would love nothing more,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his finger. “Come here.”

He scoot over on the couch-- which was actually quite big to begin with-- so that you had room to slide on beside him. You were hesitant to touch him, seeing as how you liked your distance when you were hurting, but Anakin was the one that pulled you into him. He ducked his head and buried himself into your neck, breathing you in.

“We’re going to do it, I swear we will,” Anakin mumbled into your skin. “Every slave out there… we’re going to free them all someday.”

You couldn’t help but tighten your arms around his back, crushing him to your body. You wanted to take his past away, all the hurt he’s experienced, all his tormented memories, and the anguish of losing his mother. Your heart ached for the man in your arms, who always pretended to be so strong for others, but who you knew was secretly crumbling inside. He felt too much, too strongly, all the time. If only you could even take a fraction of that pain away…

“We will,” you vowed, rubbing your hand up and down the space between his shoulder blades. You didn’t think you could say anything else without your voice giving away the emotion building up in your eyes, so you settled for kissing his forehead, long and warm and lingering -- a promise.

You counted Anakin’s breaths as you felt them on your collarbone. Each one, you cherished with your whole being. He was here, he was safe, and he was broken but healing. He was in your arms, and you would do everything in your power to make sure he always made it back there.

You’re pretty sure Anakin fell asleep around breath number 102 or 103. Somewhere along the way, your hand had drifted to play with the soft curls at the base of his neck. He had shivered at the feeling, burying his head deeper into you. Now, his breathing was deep and even, and you thanked whatever Maker was out there that you were lucky enough to have this beautiful man, safe and sleeping in your arms.

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

You stayed awake for hours, letting Anakin nap in your embrace before he slowly blinked his eyes opened and peered up at you blearily.

“How long have we been here? You must be so uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m perfect,” you ran your hands through his hair, messing up his curls so that they’d stick out at odd angles.

“Still, I should get off of you and take a shower.”

You didn’t want to let him go, but you got off the couch per his request and accepted the kiss he left on your hand before he left to wash up. You immediately felt cold without his body pressed against yours, already missing his presence.

While you waited for him to get out of the shower, you prepared some tea and jelly toast for him, almost certain he had had nothing to eat in the last week but those little nutrient balls he carried in the compact in his belt. You still didn’t understand how he could stand them.

You walked into your room where Anakin was shirtless, sporting nothing but his loose fitting sleep pants that now hung low on his hips. You tried to stop yourself from staring at his v-line as he ran the towel through his hair, drying it messily before throwing the towel in the hamper. He looked surprised when you handed him the food.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

Anakin set the plate of toast on the bedside table so he had a free hand to pull you close to him by your waist. He leaned down so he could kiss you, his lips pillowy and soft and heavenly after not feeling them against yours for so long. It was only meant to be a thank you kiss, but, well, you’ll take the blame this time for getting carried away.

You sighed in relief, melting into his figure as you traced the hard planes of his body with your fingertips. His bare skin was warm under your touch, muscles quivering with each pass of your hand. One day, you would spend hours mapping him out with your mouth. For now, you ran your hands down his chest, exploring the crevices between his abs, dipping into his v-line. He shivered at the feeling, setting the mug of tea down as well before sitting back onto the bed and pulling you with him.

You had no qualms about it. Kissing him was something you would never get tired of. When he pulled back so he could breathe, you continued planting kisses all over his face-- his forehead, cheekbones, nose, chin, jaw. He scrunched his face up and laughed, cupping your face between his hands and pushing you back.

“Miss me much?”

“You have no idea,” you weren’t even ashamed, pushing forward to kiss him again. You decided to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out to tease Anakin’s bottom lip, slipping into his mouth and tasting him for the first time in weeks. Oh God, you were in love. The warmth of him, the smell of him, the taste of him-- your head was filled with him, you were drowning in him. Him, him, him.

You traced his jawline with your fingertips as you slotted your lips with his, smoothing his eyebrow down with your thumb. Even the littlest touches had him turn to jelly in your hands.

Jelly…

You pulled back begrudgingly, his panting breaths on your lips testing your self-control by the second. “As much as I’m enjoying this, you need to eat.”

“I’ll be fast,” Anakin promised, and then got to work. He tried to cheat by giving you half a slice of toast, but you pushed it back and gave him a pointed look.

“Okay, all done,” he finished off the tea and tossed the dishes onto the bedside table again. Then he shifted closer to you, tilting your chin up so he could reach your lips. “Now, where were we?”

[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH7

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

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It took Polnareff some time to cool off from the implications that the mysterious and frankly frightening man he met all those years ago was now behind some other shady business involving wolves, but by the time he reached the vehicles abandoned on the side of the road he was able to focus on the task at hand. Both were unlocked so it was easy to take a look inside the white van first. Opening the back door revealed the cargo area had been partitioned with metal cage sections like those in the backs of police cruisers.

Other gear was scattered around the back near the rear doors for easy access. Some more guns and ammo boxes and an overturned bin of the collar devices that they found on the bodies. Nothing really caught his eye but he took pictures on his phone for future reference. The keys were still in the ignition so he started up the vehicle and moved it off the main road to not draw unwanted attention.

It felt rude to go sniffing through your car, so after a brief look through the windows to confirm the hunters left no surprises, he opened the door and put it in neutral. With a few strong shoves he was able to rescue it from the shallow ditch it had been driven into. Your keys were also still in the ignition and luckily it started, but a few lights on the dash lit up- probably more internal damage than he first assumed from the crash. Driving slow and steady he was able to get it back to the cabin.

The slamming of the car door must have alerted the rest of the pack to his return, he saw Avdol peek through the window as he made his way to the door. Inside he was glad to see you moving about mostly unaided on your own, your wounds must be healing well thanks to Avdol’s expert care. Producing your car keys, he hands them over, “I was able to drive it back, but I don’t think it’s up for any longer distances without repairs. I thought you would want your things back though.”

You sigh as you realize you really are stuck with this pack, not that you mind them but the sudden loss of freedom is disheartening. You thank him as you take back your keys.

“Pol, did you find anything else? Any link to who sent them?” Jotaro asks as everyone stares intently at him, the rest of the pack must have already been brought up to speed on the situation.

“Just more of the same gear. I moved their van off the road so no nosey troopers get involved, at least not right now. Took some pictures of the inside in case you guys see anything I missed.” Polnareff hands over his phone to Jotaro who scrolls through the images before handing it to Avdol. Walking over to the table where the hunters’ things are still laid out Polnareff absently fiddles with the extra ammo before picking one up to examine more closely. “Hmm, that’s odd. There are no makers marks on this?”

“What do you mean?” Joseph scratches his beard as he holds one up as well.

“It’s weird that there’s no markings whatsoever. Silver bullets are always homemade but the quality of these, they look mass produced but have no manufacture marks.” Polnareff’s face is grim as he makes the connection.

“What does that mean? Is that unusual?” You ask as you try to understand the significance.

Jotaro sighs as Polnareff hands him the piece he was holding. “It means this group of hunters is experienced enough not to leave evidence linking to them. And their operation is probably much more complex and much bigger than the group we encountered here. The tech, the mass manufacture of silver ammo…”

“And the van was modified for prisoners.” Polnareff shakes his head and sighs.

“Polnareff, you said before you recognized the smell of one of the hunters.” Jotaro rolls his eyes as Joseph lets out a fake cough that sounds a lot like ‘DIO’. “Ignoring who it may or may not be for now, how do you know that scent?”

“I don’t know how else to describe it other than it smells like magic. It’s like nothing else I’ve ever smelled. There was only one person I’ve ever encountered that smelled like that.” Polnareff sits heavily in the nearest chair as the pack reconvenes at the table. “It was about five years ago now, before I met you Mr. Joestar. I was in New York City for the first time, trying to follow a lead on a case but having no luck. I heard rumors of a man who knew what had really happened to… in the case.” Polnareff gets a little choked up but controls himself and continues. “I was able to set up a meeting, but when I went to the spot, everything kind of… shifted? It felt like I was in a dream: it was hard to move, like weights on my feet. Everything looked just slightly wrong too, hazy like in a fog. I remember there was some sort of party going on, a lot of people everywhere like a medieval banquet or something. That’s where I met him. He introduced himself as Dio and I could tell he wasn’t human but couldn’t place what he actually was. He claimed he had the information I needed, but it would come at a price.”

“What do you mean by ‘investigation?” you tilt your head in confusion as you try to analyze his story so far.

“Ah, you wouldn’t know yet chérie but I’m one of the best private investigators in New York, probably the whole east coast!” Polnareff brags, jabbing his chest with his thumb.

“Focus Pol! What was his ‘price’?” Joseph groans out, exasperated with the younger man’s need to show off. “And why did you even need supernatural help? Not to inflate your ego any more than it is, but you are a good investigator.”

Polnareff looks down to the table, all sense of cheerfulness gone from his face. “The case had gone cold. It’s actually the reason I became a PI in the first place. My family, the whole town… they were murdered!” He slams his fists on the table as he shouts. “And not by just some maniac in the night! It was something inhuman! That’s the reason why I needed his help or whatever info he had on who did such a terrible act.”

You are frozen to your chair in shock with this new information. It seems to have taken the younger members of the pack by surprise too, Joseph and Avdol only nodding along in understanding. “The whole town murdered? You don’t mean…The one north of Quebec City, that was your home?” you say quietly.

Polnareff’s eyes shoot to yours, “Oui! Do you know of it?”

You swallow nervously as all the attention turns on you, “I heard of it, that was about seven or eight years ago right?” Polnareff nods and you continue, “That was about time I left my parent’s territory to try and find or start my own pack. They made me promise to not go that far north to Quebec, they were afraid whatever did that would get me too. They say the whole town was… torn apart.”

Polnareff hangs his head and you can see tears gather in his blue eyes. “Yes. It’s been years now but the pain… I wasn’t there when it happened, I was off in Quebec City partying while my family… When I got back, I was the one who found them. It wasn’t just a burglary gone bad or even ‘normal’ murder. Whatever killed them had used silver to do it. All of them, the whole town,” he chokes on his words trying to get the next ones out, “some of the bodies were eaten. Not by animals, by something almost human. I didn’t rest for days afterward. I swore I would hunt down the thing, the demon that did this to them. Unfortunately, I was not as good a tracker then as I am now, and the trail grew cold fast. So, I became a PI to try and keep looking and hone my skills.”

“That Dio guy, did he help at all? You said his help came at a price.” Jotaro directs the conversation back to the mysterious encounter.

“His price was too steep. He wanted information about other supernatural beings, to keep tabs and report to him directly.”

“Do you think he really did have the information though?” Kakyoin questions as he steeples his fingers together in front of him while he considers the information of Polnareff’s story.

Polnareff shakes his head, “It’s impossible to know now. He was so confident, about everything. I think I surprised him when I refused though. For a moment, it was like I saw his true face through the fog, he was suddenly terrifying and not at all charming. But I figured if he knew something, with all the people he had surrounded himself with someone else was bound to know as well. Whatever secret knowledge he had, it wouldn’t be secret for long. And why pay such a price for something that I could get for free later?”

“Did you ever find out his secret?” Avdol leans in as he asks, enraptured by Polnareff’s tale.

“Non, I don’t even remember leaving the place he brought me to. The next thing I remember after turning down his offer is, I suddenly found myself sitting in my car ready to head back to my motel.” He clasps his hands together and you can see his knuckles turn white from the tension. “I tried to find him again to, I don’t know… stop him? His intentions for the info on other creatures… It couldn’t have been good. And the slip of his façade I saw. The man, that creature is bad news. But he might have well been a ghost. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since.”

Polnareff turns to you, “A few years later I got hired by Mr. Joestar to keep an eye on a shady landlord working for him, and I guess the rest is history.” He shakes his head, “Who would have thought joining your pack would lead back to Dio again. Non- this is fate.”

Avdol gives Polnareff a pat on the shoulder before turning to Joseph. “Mr. Joestar, I think you should tell us what you know about Dio, or at least the person you know as Dio. I think it’s time the younger ones hear this.” Avdol says as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

Joseph nods and runs his hand through his hair before he begins, “Right. Ahh, well,” he pauses to gather his thoughts for a second, “I know this is going to sound crazy but I guess there is no way around it. When I was young, I lived with my granny Erina, my parents were either dead or missing and her husband Jonathan had been dead since before my father was even born. Now’s not the time to get into the details of that but Granny used to tell me all kinds of stories from when Jonathan was alive. And most importantly- the majority of them involved an evil man named DIO! My grandfather’s adopted brother!” Joseph doesn’t control his volume in his excitement and ends up shouting his last sentence.

“Being an adopted son in a werewolf pack was strange enough, but Granny could tell there was something ‘other’ about Dio as well. Then one night, his schemes and plans finally came to fruition! There was a massive fight at the house, Granny said Jonathan would not speak of it except that his father George had died saving him from Dio’s magic and in the fight the manor was set on fire and burned down. Jonathan made it his life’s mission to find and destroy Dio, not for revenge but for the safety of England and the world!” Joseph turns his attention to look directly at Jotaro, “Dio was a changeling child. His actions confirmed it that night. He was one of the last remaining Fae on earth. And apparently not of the good and benevolent kind. So, you see why it could be possible that this man may be the same one my grandpa tried to destroy more than a hundred years ago.”

“That… that’s impossible! The Fae, they all disappeared long before that to Avalon.” Kakyoin is wide eyed as he tries to process the information. “I know some humans still believe in them, but…”

“I know! I know! I thought they were just stories from my granny too!” Joseph exclaims and puts his hand to his eyes, “But one time… I don’t think I was supposed to see it, but I found an old photo album. There was a family photo of my grandfather, his father, and Dio.” He turns to Polnareff, “Pol, the man you met. Did he have blond hair, angry eyes and three moles on his left ear?”

It’s Polnareff’s turn to go pale as he slowly nods.

Jotaro growls as he tilts his hat to hide his eyes before snapping his head up to face the pack. “As impossible as this all sounds, it doesn’t change the fact that someone is hunting down wolves. I don’t give a shit if it is Dio or not, or an extinct Fae or not. We are going to put an end to this.” He looks around the table for a second and you can tell his eyes linger on yours longer than the others. “If anyone has an objection to this say it now. There will be no opportunity later.”

Joseph slams his hand to the table palm down, “I’m in! lets show this bastard who he’s messing with!”

Joseph’s enthusiasm is contagious and you and Polnareff slam your hands to the table as well, surprising the group with the fire they can see burning in your eyes. “Hell yeah! They think they can just take me? No way! I’m going to help tear this guy to pieces! I’m with you all the way!” You say as you look directly at Jotaro. You’re not sure but you think that’s a look of pride on his face as you make your declaration.

Avdol and Kakyoin keep their cool but you can see the determination in their eyes as they nod and place their hands on the table as well. Joseph is grinning like a feral maniac and you suddenly believe his stories about saving the world with how excited he looks to do it all over again. “Then it’s settled! I’ll call Caesar and let him know to gather the Zeppeli pack too.” Joseph pauses as he stands and looks at you, “Oh, and (Y/N)?” you tilt your head at him to continue. “Welcome to the Joestar pack.”

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Author’s Note:

Sorry for the slow update! Guess who’s not good at regulating her personal time? This gal! I had to change up the process of how I’m writing this cause just trying to type on my computer had too many distractions and next thing I know I’ve been playing Stardew Valley for  3 hours.

Anyway, I have a favor to ask- I need a name for one of the dead bad guys. So leave a comment with a first name for the guy from Jersey, can be a bad ex, terrible boss, friend you want to embarrass by getting their name in a fanfic (first names only please- no doxing!)

[tealin]

Cape Crozier: The Return Journey

As usual, please visit the original blog for proper formatting and images that actually turn up ... All the more important for this one because the punchline is a picture.

When the Crozier party turned their frostbitten faces back to Cape Evans on 25 July 1911, they had endured some of the worst conditions man has ever had to face – at least while armed with the necessary scientific equipment to quantify them.  Record cold, hurricane-force winds, a three-day blizzard with no greater shelter than their sopping wet reindeer skin sleeping bags; all this in the dark of polar midwinter.  The one small but significant mercy was that they had not lost their tent.  They knew that, leaving the moderating influence of the sea at Cape Crozier, they would be plunging again into the brutal cold of Windless Bight, but that was the way home, and home they had to go. 

Cherry describes cooking as being the third worst job.  Some parts of the cooker set had been lost in the hurricane, and though they improvised one with the lid of a biscuit tin, the cooker still had to be balanced on top of the Primus stove by whoever was on duty.  The matches in their dreadful metal tins had only got more frosted since the outward journey.  The strings on the ration bags were like steel wires.  It took more than an hour to get their pemmican hoosh made. 

The worst job was thawing oneself into one's sleeping bag at the end of the day.  The sleeping bags had absorbed so much moisture by now that they were more or less solid ice.  The men had figured out early on that if one's sleeping kit were plugged into the mouth of the bag in the morning, one got a small headstart thawing in.  It still took over an hour of melting the bag open inch by inch with their own body heat to open it fully, and begin the second worst job of the night, which was lying in the freezing wet bag for six hours.  Wilson had made them lie for eight on the outward journey, whether they slept or not – mostly not, by Cherry's recollection – solely for the sake of giving their bodies a rest, but this was agreed to be so unpleasant that they lowered it to six on the return. 

Cherry only got two good sleeps, and these were a gift from Bowers: Each of them had an eiderdown lining for their bags, and Cherry's had reached unendurable saturation at Cape Crozier.  For days Birdie had been urging me to use his eider-down lining – his beautiful dry bag of the finest down – which he had never slipped into his own fur bag.  I had refused: I felt that I should be a beast to take it. [286]  Cherry finally relented when he felt as if I should crack … I felt a brute to take it, but I was getting useless unless I got some sleep which my [too] big bag would not allow. [287] After two nights Birdie's eiderdown was too wet to be much help, but that sleep did make a difference.

Dangerously sleep-deprived and nearing the limits of physical resilience, they found themselves nodding off as they marched to make up for the sleep not slept in their bags.  Instead of marching in a close cluster, Wilson extended his lead so as to walk well ahead, and thereby spot any crevasses: if he were to fall in, he would be anchored by those safely on solid ground, and they could pull him out.  And then, of course, they would know there was a crevasse. 

They escaped the worst of the outward temperatures, but -66°F was bad enough. Wilson's bag was too small, and with the extra pressure of the his eiderdown inside it, had begun to split. Most of Cherry's teeth shattered in the cold.  But, as Cherry said, now they were callous, and with only one sledge to haul, they were making much better time than they had on the outward journey. 

Our departure from Cape Crozier was far less dramatic.  We had all scrambled back to the helicopter without mishap or loss, and our pilot took off into the rising wind, in which everything to the south was an indistinct haze.  There was no question of taking the Winter Journey route back to McMurdo as visibility was far worse than when we'd been denied that way on the outward flight, so it was back around the island the long way again. 

Luckily this meant that we, unlike the egg hunters, got a second go at the penguins.  They are under a strict protection order, so a helicopter can't get too close lest it disturb them in any way, but in our swoop around to get the best view of their situation, we did get close enough to see them.

See that sprinkling of black dots down in the finger bay, like the dust on a table where a pepper grinder sits?  Those are the Emperors!  Here's a closer look: 

Then it was time to round the corner and fly back along the north coast to our own version of home.  You can see how the cloud cover erases nearly all detail on the snowy slopes of Ross Island and why we couldn't have flown back the cloudy way.  As it was, we flew mostly over the sea ice, which was mottled enough to be visible even in the diffuse light.

We only had to get through this patch of cloud and then, as you can see in the distance above, we would reach sunnier skies and safer flying.  Retracing more or less the same route we had followed, but this time with the impression of a blizzard sweeping over the island, the strong wind was evident both in the drift blowing off the ice cliffs and how the sea ice, which had been solid around the coast on our outward journey, was now being blown off. 

Our return journey certainly couldn't have been more different from the Crozier party's.

Our own final stretch was in the opposite direction, and the first of the 'home' sights was Cape Royds, above, site of another Adélie colony, and the Nimrod hut where Terra Nova men would go for a mini-break from Cape Evans during the first winter, when they weren't hieing off to Cape Crozier.  Then, as we left the lee of Ross Island and headed back into the cloud as it poured around this side, a more familiar cape came into view:

Back over Great Razorback, with Turk's Head nearly lost in fog . . . 

Back over Glacier Tongue, with seals sleeping where the last lunch of the Winter Journey was had ... 

Back over the uncommon luxury of the Discovery hut …

And back to McMurdo, safe and sound.

We trudged on for several more hours and it grew very dark. There was a discussion as to where Cape Evans lay.  We rounded it at last : it must have been ten or eleven o'clock, and it was possible that some one might see us as we pulled towards the hut. "Spread out well," said Bill, "and they will be able to see that there are three men." But we pulled along the cape, over the tide-crack, up the bank to the very door of the hut without a sound. No noise from the stable, nor the bark of a dog from the snow drifts above us. We halted and stood there trying to get ourselves and one another out of our frozen harnesses – the usual long job. The door opened – " Good God! here is the Crozier Party," said a voice, and disappeared.

Thus ended the worst journey in the world. [298-9]

Inside was pandemonium.  Most men had gone to bed, and I have a blurred memory of men in pyjamas and dressing-gowns getting hold of me and trying to get the chunks of armour which were my clothes to leave my body.  Finally they cut them off and threw them into an angular heap at the foot of my bunk.  Next morning they were a sodden mass weighing 24 lbs.  Bread and jam, and cocoa; showers of questions; "You know this is the hardest journey ever made," from Scott; a broken record of George Robey on the gramophone which started us laughing until in our weak state we found it difficult to stop. ... Then into my warm blanket bag, and I managed to keep awake just long enough to think that Paradise must be something like this.

We slept ten thousand years ... [301]

When my coordinator had phoned me with the details of our flight that afternoon, she apologised that, due to the weather, we couldn't take the Winter Journey route, and would have to go the longer northerly way instead.  I replied that it was no problem, and "If Cherry knew I was going to fly to Cape Crozier in 35 minutes, his ghost would skua-dive me," referring to the local species of gull which is notorious for divebombing anyone with the temerity to carry a tasty snack outdoors.  She had been on the receiving end of this once or twice in the past, and had told me shortly after my arrival that it feels like being hit on the back of the head with a roasting chicken.

When we were heading north on our way out, and our pilot was briefing us on the route and the flight time, again apologising for the change of plan, my coordinator told him about our conversation, except that instead of the skua-diving ghost she said "Cherry would turn over in his grave."

Our return to McMurdo passed without comment – we had only been gone a couple of hours, and after all, helicopters come and go all the time; there was no reason ours should be more remarkable than any other.  It was near enough to dinner time that, once I thanked our pilot profusely and gave my flight gear back to Helo Ops, then swapped my accursed bunny boots for lighter shoes back in my office, there wasn't anything else to do but head to the galley to see what there was to eat.

Well.

[juliettecxi]

@fantasylitnet​ Quest 01 : Secret Courtier → @firestarsandseneschals​ 

Title: The Stakeout

Fandom: Carry on by Rainbow Rowell

Ship: Snowbaz

Genre: Idiots Enemies to lovers, Detective au, alternate universe, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, drug mention, sad attempts at portraying sexual tension, minor portrayals of gun usage and police work, kissing that’s mostly described with big words of passion, Not proofread (let me know if I missed anything.)

A/N: Here it is! and I hope you liked this mess!

Read on AO3

Summary: Two detectives on a stakeout, who hate each other with a passion, while being passionately in love with each other at the same time.

“WHAT! Why do you hate me!”

This was the first thing NYPD detective Penelope Bunce heard as she entered the bullpen. It seemed to be coming from the captain’s office. As she sat at her desk, she saw two heads, one with brown curly hair, and another with long black hair, moving wildly with aggressive arm movements.

Snow and Pitch were at it again.

“WHAT! Why do you hate me!” Simon Snow fumed at the captain, who let out a sigh and plopped back down on his chair.

“Sir, If I may.” said the voice of Satan’s descendant himself, Basilton Grimm Pitch. “Personally, I feel that detective Snow would be a hindrance in the smooth sailing of the mission, and you know how it could affect the whole operation.”

That son of a bitch.

“If I may sir.” Simon interrupted, receiving an annoyed huff from Pitch. “I believe what detective Pitch was trying to express with poor word choices is that he’s a pompous prick with no teamwork skills and disregards your judgement.” “That is not what I said Snow!” Baz turned and yelled, eyes wide. “And honestly.” he continued, “No one could ever work with you, you absolute moron, sometimes I wonder how Bunce gets through the day and manages to do anything with you as a partner!”.

 “I’m an amazing partner!” Simon retorted lamely.

Damn him and his inability to come up with good comebacks.

“Enough the two of you!” the Captain said sternly (Although to Simon it sounded like a cry for help. He couldn’t blame him, Baz was a lot to handle.) “You will go on this stakeout, together. And you will bust this drug deal. Take a department mandated car and be at the location on time, and if this fails because you two couldn’t work together for five, fucking, minutes.” He looked at them both. “I will not be easy on you.”

“Yes sir!” “Message received!” Simon and Baz said at the same time, and turned on their heel and left, nudging each other in the ribs as they left the captain’s office, and Simon heard the captain let out a sigh of relief.

Simon was washing his hands after using the toilet (he wasn’t an animal) when he looked at himself in the mirror. He needed a haircut. His thick brown curls were growing out, and as much as Simon would’ve totally rocked the Brian May look, it probably wouldn’t look good at work.

Oh well.

There was someone else who looked stunning in long hair. Baz. Simon dreamed of carding his fingers through it, and using it to pull him closer. He smiled. Why did he always yearn what he couldn’t have? Baz was a fever dream, someone who could only live in his imagination. Someone who didn’t hate him, and someone who loved him. Most people would say Simon should confess, he thought so too, but what was the point in confessing to someone who hated you with half his being? Simon was only pretending, but he knew Baz was genuine.

No. he could never know.

Baz looked up from his paperwork as Simon walked over to his desk next to Bunce and sat down. He said something to her, and she laughed. Baz sighed, and looked back at his work. 

Snow was someone who intrigued Baz, and had a special place in his head and heart. He hadn’t realized it at first, but all it took was a “Merry Christmas.” and a small smile from him, and Baz knew he had fallen, hard.

As someone who was shitty with emotions, Baz didn’t know how to interact with Simon properly without looking like an idiot, and had ended up giving the impression that he hated him. And Baz did hate him, hated him for making him fall for someone he couldn’t have. Hated him for making him fall in love with someone who felt the opposite of love and everything that went with it for him. But despite it all, he still loved. It was like an inextinguishable flame, and Snow would never feel the same, he hated him. Baz was only pretending, but he knew Simon was genuine.

No, he could never know.

Simon was in the gear room, picking the necessary tools for the stakeout. They were leaving in fifteen minutes, and he wanted to make sure they were prepared. “Hey.” said a voice he knew all too well. Baz stood behind him wearing an all black ensemble and it did things to Simon. 

He took in a deep breath. “What?” he asked, as nonchalantly and disinterested  as possible. “Aren’t you excited.” Baz commented and Simon looked at him in annoyance. “I’m sorry.” he said, and then “Baz! I’m so excited to be stuck in a tiny vehicle with you for the entire night, I can’t wait!” Baz did not look impressed, but then he smirked, and stepped closer. “Are you sure you’d be able to handle being in a tiny vehicle alone with me Snow?” he said and leaned in. Simon leaned back against the table and gulped.

He would’ve been fine with Baz being so close to him, but in different circumstances.

Like his Imagination.

“Cat got your tongue?” Baz asked, and smiled, saccharine sweet.

Simon scoffed. “I was actually wondering if this was what your hypothetical significant other would see. How unfortunate for them.” he said sweetly.

Hey, that comeback was actually quite good!

Baz scowled and placed his arms on the table, on either side of Simon. “Tell me.” he said. “Would you think this was an unfortunate face to see Snow?” All he had to do was lean in a little more, and their lips would touch. Simon’s face heated up. He pushed Baz away with his hand and grabbed the gear bag. “We leave in five.” he said, and walked out, leaving behind an unsatisfied and embarrassed Baz.

They’d arrived at their location twenty minutes ago, and things were going… smoothly. There was still no sign of their perp and both Simon and Baz were becoming very irritable and agitated.

“Chew louder why don’t you?” Baz sneered at Simon, who was munching on a protein bar. Simon turned to Baz, took a big bite of his protein bar, and chewed it slowly with his mouth open, making sure his chewing was extremely loud.

That little shit.

Baz tightened his grip on the binoculars he was using to look out for their perp, Jeffrey Carlson. He was a drug dealer and had become somewhat of a drug lord on these streets, and after months of tracking they were finally able to track him down, which was why Baz had the fortunate misfortune of being stuck in a car with Simon in the night, in front of one of those dingy New York apartment complexes, waiting to apprehend the criminal.

If only he could concentrate.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the gear room, and what almost would have happened. He let out a sigh and put down his binoculars.

“Hey.”, Snow’s voice cut through his reverie. “Yes Snow?” Baz said. “Why do you hate me? Or dislike me at least?” His eyes widened and he turned to Simon, who looked like he was regretting his question. “You know what,” Simon began, “Forget it, it was a stupid ques-” ‘I don’t hate you.” Baz interrupted, voice small. “It’s,” he took in a deep breath. “It’s complicated.” “So you don’t hate me?” Simon said, and Baz swore he could hear a little smugness in his voice. “Nope.” Baz confirmed, “Quite the opposite actually.” he said, with a nervous laugh. “So..you love me?” Simon said. 

What? There was definitely smugness in his tone now.

“Umm, Well.” Baz began. “I don’t hate you either.” Simon said suddenly. “It’s quite the opposite actually.” he said, and wiggled his eyebrows. Baz tried to look unimpressed, but couldn’t hide his endearment. “So, does that mean…” he leaned in closer, and placed a finger on Simon’s lips. “You wouldn’t mind if I-” They heard a dull thud from outside. “Someone fell from the first floor window onto the pavement.” said Simon, eyes wide and alert. They both turned and faced each other. “Carlson.” they said in unison, and got out of the car, guns and gear all at the ready.

Simon was eclectic. Baz didn’t hate him! He would’ve laughed out loud and jumped around if they weren’t chasing a wanted criminal, who seemed to be getting away. “I’ll go left you go right! We’ll corner him!” Baz yelled and Simon held his hand ups in an ‘ok’ sign.

Simon was still running in the direction the perp did. He finally reached an alley. It was empty. Simon did a full three-sixty, just to make sure. He turned around to leave, when a hand wrapped around his neck from behind and pulled him towards it. “Don’t. Move” the voice said. His breath was musky and slightly rancid. “Let me go!” Simon struggled, and he felt a knife placed under his chin.

Shit. Where was Baz?

Baz ran into an alley, hoping the perp hadn’t escaped. The perp and Simon were both there, which would have been great if he wasn’t holding a knife to Simon’s neck. 

“Come any closer and I’ll kill him!” yelled Carlson, eyes bloodshot and wild. Baz looked at Simon, who looked extremely frightened even though it was obvious he was trying to look brave.

“Let him go and nobody will have to get hurt.” Baz said, as calm as possible, only for the perp to tighten his grip around Simon. Simon on the other hand, seemed to try and signal something to Baz with his eyes. He looked in the direction he was pointing at. A metal pipe, right on top of the trashcan  Snow and the perp were standing next to. 

Baz took in a deep breath.

“I’m dropping my gun! Don’t do anything to harm him!” He gently placed down his gun and stepped closer. He was close, but not close enough. “Don’t move!” yelled Carlson, “Or your friend loses his neck!” Simon winced and Baz gulped.

So many things could go wrong.

“Carlson,” he began, ”What made you want to become a..drug lord?” He had no idea where he was going with this. Simon gave him a classic what the fuck face, and the perp just stared at him blankly.

Well, carpe momentum.

Baz reached for the metal pipe, as fast as he could. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” screamed Carlson, but before he could react, Baz swung the pipe as hard as he could, and hit him on the head, knocking him out. Simon quickly grasped the knife from Carlson’s lifeless hand before it could accidentally damage him, and stumbled forward before regaining his balance.

The adrenaline was still coursing through Baz’s veins, and before he knew it he was in front of Simon, pushing him back against the alley wall. “I’m going to kiss you now.” he said, and Simon barely had time to nod his head before Baz’s lips came crashing down on his. It was electric and invigorating, and felt like a thousand jolts of current. Simon’s hands reached up and curled around Baz’s neck, and Baz placed his in Simon’s hair, caressing it as they kissed. Simon tilted his head in an attempt to deepen the kiss, and Baz let him. Baz felt like he was flying, fast and high with no restraint, and he relished it all, the feeling of Snow’s mouth on his and the feel of his hair that felt like starlight on his fingertips.

All too soon the kiss was broken by Simon. “We should probably take him into custody before he wakes up again.” he said, and grinned, causing Baz to smile as well.

“Come on Snow.” he said, as he reached down to pick up Carlson. “The sooner we get home the better.” “Why?” Simon asked, smiling

He knew why.

Baz raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s get going shall we?” he said, with a crooked smile, and off they went, back to the precinct, and then to Baz’s apartment, and the rest, was history.

A/N (2) : phew. That was a long one! Well I hope you liked whatever this was! And if you can, please let me know what you thought! I'd really appreciate feedback!

-Abby 💕

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- The Arrival

Here we finally have it.  All of the governments meet for the first time.  If you want to see more of one particular person or group, or just have any cool ideas to throw in, ask away!  Enjoy the story!

Mass Effect Galaxy

The Citadel

It had been rather the hectic week (and month) for the entire universe.  Everyone had scrambled for information; the fight to find out exactly what to expect from their sudden new neighbors.  Agents had been sent out, intelligence had been collected, reports had been made, and, out of the blue, one government, the Citadel Council, had invited most of the major players from the various galaxies to the negotiations table.  Reactions had… varied.  Greatly.  But, in the end, all of the invitees had arrived on schedule.  

Commander Shepard was quite glad the Council had taken his suggestion to beef up the Citadel Fleet seriously.  The different governments had each arrived with their own starship or, in many cases, starships.  The starships were as varied as the governments themselves.  The Galactic Assembly had arrived in several plain metal, box-like starships, led by Adam Vir’s Omen.  Respectable.  Nothing the Fleet couldn’t handle.  

The government from Quill’s home galaxy had shown in one rather small ship.  He still didn’t know the government’s name.  Curious.  He quietly vowed to find out.

The United Federation of Planets had, too, arrived in a small fleet of their strange, saucer-strapped-to-engines starships led by James Kirk’s Enterprise.  Once more, sensible.  Respectable.  Easily handled.  

So too did both the Frontier Militia and Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation arrive.  They had been directed to opposite docking bays, considering their history.  A wise move.  Someone had their head firmly on their shoulders.  

Thomas Drake had led a small collection of luxury ships, his clients, into their docking bays.  No problem.  No military threat.  

The UNSC had arrived in two ships.  Blocky and boxy, they too were directed to their places without incident.  

The New Republic arrived in a motley collection of ships in various shapes and sizes.  One minor bureaucratic hassle later, they were docked.  

It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the last two that were a problem.  Three massive, kilometer long Star Destroyers had heralded the arrival of the Galactic Empire.  The largest ship in Shepard’s galaxy was the Destiny Ascension, also a kilometer long.  It was the long held belief that no one could match it, as the requirements for building something bigger would be astounding.  Now, the Empire had three such ships, each more powerful, with larger guns, internal fighter hangars, and enough troops inside to pacify a planet.  

The next arrival had blown everyone else out of the water.  The Imperium of Man had shown up in a six-and-a-half kilometer floating cathedral.  Shepard had seen nothing like it, and didn’t quite understand why anyone would build a starship like that.  It was as if someone had taken a gothic basilica, made it starship-sized, then slapped on an unholy amount of guns.  Shepard didn’t know what was on board, either.  Matter of fact, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what was on board.  

What’s more is, due to their large size and masters’ temperament, the Imperial ships would not and could not dock.  So now they hung threateningly over the Citadel, turbo-lasers and lance batteries pointing menacingly into space.  Shepard did not at all envy Matriarch Lidanya, captain of the Destiny Ascension, or, for that matter, any of the other fleet captains of the different governments.  Tangling with the Chimaera or the Watch Eternal, the flagship of the Empire and the Imperium’s dreadnought respectively, was a daunting prospect.   

So far as yet, no one had killed each other, a situation that Shepard fervently hoped would remain in place.  Currently, he was standing outside the security gates, lounging next to various members of his crew and a very amused Adam Vir.  Security was another hassle.  The Council, quite reasonably, wanted the members of each delegation to surrender their weapons at the customs area.  The delegates, also quite reasonably, did not want to go unarmed into unknown territory.  Things had come to a head after the Imperium of Man had shown up with a cadre of heavily armed and heavily armored troopers who looked positively excited at the prospect of going full rock-and-roll mode against everything moving.  Citadel Security had tried to disarm them, the Tempestus Scion bodyguards had almost shot the Turian security officer, Cain had calmed things down, C-Sec had once more tried to disarm them, the Galactic Empire had pointed out that their black-armored Death Trooper bodyguards would also not be surrendering their weapons, C-Sec had called for Spectre backup, both Shepard and Cain had convinced everyone else to let the bodyguards keep their weapons, abielt under the watchful eyes of armed C-Sec agents, and Peter Quill and Adam Vir had a massive laugh at the commotion.  

Currently, Thomas Drake and his employers (the Merchant’s Guild, remembered Shepard) were going through security with little hassle.  The generally old and quite calculating-looking members of the Guild had no weapons, and Drake and his armsmen were being remarkably compliant.  They went through quickly, and Drake slid up to Shepard and Vir.  

“So… how many weapons did you manage to smuggle in?” asked Shepard conversationally.  Drake sniffed.

“Enough to kill, oh, at least everyone within sight,” replied Drake as if he were talking about the weather.  Shepard grunted, then turned towards the security checkpoint to watch the New Republic diplomats enter.

“You mind telling me how?” he asked.  Drake gave one of his devious grins.

“A good magician never reveals their secrets!”  Vir rolled his eyes in response.  Security was, unfortunately, or, depending on your point of view, fortunately, not quite perfect.  Vir had been allowed to take his Iron Eye suit through, Cooper any other Pilots coming through were still wearing their Pilot Suits, Master Chief was in full combat gear (so, his normal clothing), Drake had god-only-knew-what on him, and almost everyone was allowed to retain their sidearms.  

That wasn’t even including the super powered people now walking around the flowing streets of the Citadel.  Shepard had known of super soldiers (indeed, several of the Scoundrels themselves could be considered as such), but people with what could be considered superpowers were a little more unnerving.  There were biotics where he came from: individuals who could create and manipulate mass effect fields using their bodies.  They had super powers, in a sense.  But some of the people here…  Along with the New Republic came an unassuming man wearing a simple black tunic and knee length black boots.  Shepard knew, with information from Solo, that this was Luke Skywalker, the last Jedi, someone who could move things with their mind and do all sorts of other ridiculous things.  With the delegation from Quill’s galaxy came a blond haired woman wearing a blue and red jumpsuit; a superhero, if he’d ever seen one, an ebony-skinned, dark-haired diplomat who, despite his laid back attitude, simply screamed ‘deadly!’, and Thor, the literal Norse god of thunder.  How, precisely, was one supposed to fight something like that?  Just go up and politely ask a lighting god to stop?  Unlikely.  

He was snapped out of his reverie by a nudge from Vir.

“Hey.  They’re starting the tour,” he said, and pointed to a Council diplomat leading the delegates through the Citadel, narrating like a tour guide as she did.  Shepard almost laughed aloud at the sight of the various groups walking together, from stark uniforms to over-elaborate dress robes.  He gave a nod to his crew members, and they hefted their weapons and slowly followed the tour.  Vir talked as they walked.

“You know, this is great,” he started with an excited grin.  “This place, all these species working together, talking together, living together…  it’s, well, great.  I said that already, didn’t I?”  He barely paused for breath, then continued.  “The GA has a space station for diplomacy, a… neutral ground, for lack of a better word, but nothing like… this.”  He gestured at the false sky, the massive open areas, and the breathtaking architecture.  “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”  Garrus Valkarian chuckled behind them and Shepard gave a rueful shake of his head.  

“Adam Vir.  Never change,” he said as he straightened out to follow the tour.  They walked slowly, following the delegates at a safe distance.  Vir dropped back as Sunny slid up to him.  

“What do you think?” he murmured.  She glazed, amused, at some of the diplomats and bodyguards giving her wary looks.  The Drev were by far the biggest and tallest race here, something she was endlessly entertained by.  

“They seem nice enough.  The Citadel Council shouldn’t be a problem.  Most of the more diplomatic ones should be fine as well.”  She gave a low chortle.  “I’m not even afraid of the Imperium.  Cain ought to put in a good word for us.”  Vir smiled back.

“True.  But, just in case, have Kanon stand by.”  Sunny nodded.  

“Don’t worry.  The Drev clan will be ready to go.”  And with full weapons, too.  No one thought spears were a significant enough problem to warrant disarmament.  More fool them, then.   

The members of the Merchant’s Guild were barely listening to the guide; their looks instead shrewdly appraising everything in sight.  Martin Crossgrow turned to Drake, lips pursed in calm consideration.  

“How much do you think it would cost to build this place?”  Drake didn’t hesitate with an answer.

“Fifty to seventy-five quadrillion Federal credits to build a station exactly like this.  Thirty billion to build a warhead powerful enough to blow it all up.”  Crossgrow gave a low, humorless laugh in response, and turned to one of his immaculately tailored colleagues.  

“You see, this is why I hire Drake.  He knows what he’s talking about.”

Outwardly, Commissar Ciaphas Cain was an epitome of calm.  Inwardly, he was roiling.  There were just so.  Many.  Xenos.  Everywhere.  Walking openly in the streets as if they didn’t have acare in the world, eating, shopping, even mingling with humans.  Even the supposedly pro-human Galactic Empire was being led by a tall, blue-skinned humanoid alien wearing a neatly pressed Admiral’s uniform.  The Imperial delegation, of which he was security chief, was being escorted by even more xenos.  Of course, since he was security chief, if anything went wrong, he would have to deal with it.  Wonderful.  

“Hello, Ciaphas.”  The voice broke his thoughts, and he turned to face one of the robed diplomats he was assigned to protect.  A rush of emotions and memories was brought to the surface: an undercover cabernet singer with a beautiful voice, stinking tunnels filled with genestealers and untrustworthy criminals, a figure in golden power armor massacring her way through hordes of enemies. 

“Amberley?” he asked, flabbergasted.  The diplomat threw back her hood, revealing a familiar face, framed by blond neat blond hair.  Amberley Vail, Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos, smiled up at him.  

“Surprised to see me here?” she asked.  

“Uh… yes, actually,” replied Cain.  Vail laughed.  

“Did you really think diplomats would be sent to a meeting this important without… oversight?”  Cain’s stomach turned to ice.  HIs palms started to tingle, a sure sign that something was wrong.  

“What do you mean by that?” he inquired tentatively.  Vail subtly nodded to another robed diplomat.

“You remember Rasmus, don’t you?”  The robed man turned, face hidden beneath the robe and a neat black beard, and nodded once.  Of course Cain remembered; how could he forget that horrible business?  More memories flashed through his head.  An insane governor, selling his soul into eternal damnation for the promise of pleasure, hacking his way through living shrubbery, Jurgen and Amberely hot on his heels, and, of course, Inquisitor Rasmus Vekkman fighting an unholy abomination with strange, archaic weapons.  Vail nodded once more and gestured to another delegate.

“And of course, we need to complete the triumvirate of Ordos Majoris.  You’ve never met her, but that’s Inquisitor Melflic Aetius of Hereticus,” finished Vail.  Cain was fairly certain his blood had frozen in his veins.  One Inquisitor was a problem.  Three though… That was three individuals with unlimited authority and the full backing of the Imperium of Man.  Three Inquisitors on the same mission was completely unheard of.  Apparently, his thoughts did not register on his face, for Amberley continued.  

“On the Watch Eternal we also have a regiment of Tempestus Scions.”  Cain was only saved from stopping short, jaw hanging out, by his long-learned masterful control over his emotions.  Scions, also known as Tempestus Stormtroopers, were the deadliest and highest-trained normal human soldiers within the Imperium.  Now there was an entire regiment of them aboard the starship hanging in orbit above the Citadel.  He stopped short for a moment at Vail’s next words.  “And a full Deathwatch Kill-team,” she stated nonchalantly.  The Deathwatch was something else entirely.  Made up of Space Marines, eight foot tall genetically engineered, power armor-wearing transhuman super soldiers, the Deathwatch was the Inquisition’s specialized anti-alien group.  Cain could understand Scions.  Perhaps an Inquisitor, and a small group of Space Marines.  But now there were three Inquisitors, a full regiment of Scions, and, by what he inferred, a very beefed up and probably quite veteran Kill-team.  Oh dear Emperor, this is going to end badly.  

“Anything else I should know about?” he all but hissed at Amberley.  She pursed her lips, considering.  

“I suppose.  You are our chief of security, after all,” she replied, her eyes full of mischief.  And what a terrible idea it was to take that job, Cain fumed.  “There’s also an Assassinorum Execution Force.”  Is it even possible to be any more surprised?  ‘Cause if it is, I’m about to win an award.  Cain knew little about the mysterious and highly lethal Officio Assassinorum; hell, most citizens didn’t even know it existed.  What he did know, however, was that it trained some of the most potent killers in the galaxy.  That’s all he ever wanted to know, for people who went polking into the workings of such organizations rarely returned alive.  

“Do you mind telling me exactly why there are so many deadly groups here?” he muttered, conscious of drawing too much attention.  Vail smiled again, but this time there was nothing in her eyes save the coldest ice.  

“Of course, my dear Ciaphas.  It’s simple.  All of these xenos better be honest and on the level.  Or else.” 

And there it is.  Sort of a cold war situation going on; every faction is trying to be as diplomatic as possible and present the best face possible, but if something goes wrong, their all dropping in their most elite soldiers.  Next story we’ll go over more reactions and explore some of the people and groups I didn’t cover here.  If you have any comments, criticisms, concerns, questions, or requests, feel free to ask!  

[the-goth-catte]

A Shifting of the Sands: II

The roar of the bloodthirsty crowd in the arena rumbled like a persistent, pervasive thunder in the tunnels below the blood sands. The individual voices, the sounds that one could pick out to distinguish anything as even remotely related to mankind, were so muffled and dulled through the thick layers of stone and long twisting passages that what remained was an almost inhuman roar. A tempest of voices, a wall of humanity all calling out for one thing: blood. The fights had been going for some time now, so long that Naalie had lost track of how many bells had come and gone since the opening contest; she often wondered what it was that kept those men and women so enrapt, so enthralled that they would spend the better part of an entire day watching the trained fighters of the gladiators’ guild dance their deadly dance over and over again. Certainly after so long it became repetitious, did it not? While, yes, the different acts all fought with different styles… but when one got down to it, how different could any of it have been?

The young Miqo’te woman crouched in one of the many narrow, dimly lit passages beneath the arena proper; her back rested against the cold stone of the wall, though the majority of her scant weight was supported by the taut muscles of her calves. All of her gear, save the plumed helm which rested beside her, was polished and equipped, the weight of the steel, leather, and cloth a familiar comfort to her. Many of her colleagues cracked wise that her attire must weigh as much as she did, and while it wasn’t quite so burdensome as that the armor did add a significant amount to her overall weight. In moments like these, when the call would soon come that her fight was next, Naalie found herself repeating this same routine time and time again: crouch in the dark tunnels and allow the weight of arms and armor to ground her, to center her. It reminded her that she was in this moment, in the now, and that no matter what came next nothing could change that. Her breathing was slow and rhythmic: inhale to the count of five, exhale for seven, hold for five, repeat. It kept her heartbeat from slamming wildly in her chest, and the anxiety that always came with an impending fight from running wild with her emotions. At least… it usually kept her anxiety in check. 

This fight… this one was unlike the others. She’d faced challenges, gone up against odds that she’d been unlikely to best - and won. This wasn’t even supposed to be a challenging fight, according to the word from the back alley bookies taking bets on the outcomes. While the Hrothgar she was pitted against was significantly larger than her, the skill with which she wielded a sword outclassed him in nearly every imaginable way. Light and nimble, Naalie glided like a shadow over the blood soaked sands to strike quick, hard, and decisively. There was little at risk in this fight. What gnawed at the back of her mind, instead, was the cryptic warning that came some weeks earlier while finding a measure of solace in the desert night.

The Lalafellen man hadn’t identified himself, only insinuated that he was a man of power and influence. The exchange had played out in her mind’s eye repeatedly in the days that followed, twisting and turning the encounter every which way to make sense of it; part of her wondered if he’d been bluffing, some costumed man with a mummer’s farce trying to scam her into providing a big pay out, while the remainders believed he was legitimately who he suggested he might have been. What would happen if she didn’t do what was so kindly asked of her? She, and her tribe, had so very little that there wasn’t much that could be taken from them; she had very few personal ties, fewer still beyond her immediate family. And what of her opponent? Had the man approached him as well with some enticing offer to encourage him to win? Or simply told him he would be going over in their bout? Undoubtedly he’d done something with Bjornulf, Naalie just couldn’t guess what it might have been. In silent frustration, the young Miqo’te woman leaned her head back and began idly bouncing it against the stone behind her; it hurt, but it distracted her from the racing thoughts swirling about her mind.

Far above her, Naalie heard the crowd roar with approval at some unknown deed that had just transpired; whatever it was, it had been exciting. A particular bloody outcome? A surprising upset for one of the underdog fighters? … A death? Those weren’t uncommon in the dangerous world that revolved around the Ul’dah Bloodsands. Would she soon meet such an ignoble ending, sprawled in the dirt and grime while the fans who had so loyally cheered for her now called for her death? A slow sigh slipped past her lips, and Naalie’s eyelids dropped tightly closed. In that moment, the sounds of the arena seemed to fade, becoming a dull background roar… a white noise she could tune out. It was a strange, unexpected moment of peace, which left her yearning for somebody, anybody, that she could reach out to.

"Vhenna!" the call came from somewhere to her right, just around the corner of the tunnel. "You're on next. Get your ass up to the gate."

Her silence broken, Naalie let out one more quiet sigh before pushing up to her feet. The footfalls that carried her down the tunnel were leaden, her body refusing to cooperate with the demands she was making of it; each step felt as if she were walking to her execution, a sense of dread lingering about her being with a strong defiance running to her core. No matter how this day went, no matter the outcome of this fight, she knew that things would never again be the same.

-----

Sand kicked up into an arc as Bjornulf the Hellsbeast slammed the head of his mighty mace into the ground where Naalie had been standing but a scant few beats of the heart before; the thick metal hit with such force that the percussion could not only be felt by the nimble Miqo'te, but actually heard over the cheers and jeers of the spectators. Naalie wasn't sure if they called out in excitement as she easily twisted to the side before the blow fell, or if they were disappointed that her flesh and bones hadn't been crushed instead of the sand.

The way she moved wasn't unlike that of a dancer, albeit one decked in heavy armor and wielding a short sword; as the mace came hurtling down, Naalie had jumped to the side, twisting in air and coming down in a crouch a few fulms to the left. Was the crouch necessary? No. The crowd, though, usually ate that kind of thing up... and anything you could do to get the crowd wanting to see more of you was well worth doing. As she lifted her head, magenta eyes slowly lifted toward the rings of spectators looking down on them (yet another fan-favorite move that she tried to throw into the fray when she could). She tried to tell herself that she wasn't looking for anybody in particular, but she knew in her core that she was damn well looking for that Lalafell. The quick, stolen glance wasn't long enough to make out any faces, however; in the heat of the moment, in the midst of battle, she could scare spare more than a few heartbeats to play around before getting back to business.

As the tan Hrothgar began to heft his mace from where it has embedded itself in the sand, Naalie dove and rolled forward behind where his legs were planted; there was the briefest bits of hesitation as she brought out her blade to attack.

Should I? He warned me...

Flash

The bright lights of the arena caught the reflection of Naalie's blade, flashing brightly as the steel bit into the bare flesh and fur of her opponent. The man groaned aloud as the keen edge dug deep into the muscle of his thigh, mouth contorting into the shape of a silent scream and eyes narrowing. Blood poured free, matting the fur of his legs and spilling down onto the already stained sands below.

The crowd went wild, on their feet and cheering wildly.

All... but one.

In the sea of sound and moving bodies, there was one lone figure; Naalie caught but a glance as her eyes flicked back up to the ground, a few heartbeats at most... but she was sure. The ostentatious clothes, the smug expression, the two flanking morons. Yeah, it was him.

The corners of her mouth turned downward in a scowl. The entire fight until now had been spent in a mounting state of dread and indecision, not knowing what to do... what would be best for her career, or her well being. But seeing that short statured pompous ass standing in the crowd, watching her with his judgmental expression... Naalie knew.

As Bjornulf staggered forward, his right leg no longer fully supporting his weight, Naalie began to strike. She never went immediately for one killing blow, unless it was a guaranteed success. She preferred, instead, to dart in and out and make numerous strikes to further hinder their ability to attack or defend themselves. Precise cuts crippled his other leg, bringing the big Hroth down to his knees; his right arm was shortly rendered useless as he made the mistake of lifting it to guard against a blow, taking several ilms of cold steel into his flesh. Naalie was fairly certain she felt bone scraping against her blade when she slid it from the wound she'd created, and from the amount of blood that began to pour out it wouldn't have surprised her. He was helpless now. He knew it. She knew it. The crowd knew it. And the crowd... the crowd was going wild, their lust for blood and death at a pitch.

Naalie stood before the felled Hroth, blade held outstretched with tip pointing down at him. His eyes were wide and watery, but his brave face held as he stared potential death in the eye. It wasn't at her helpless foe that she looked, but to the mass of humanity beyond him... through the cheering fans... to a single, solitary Lalafell. With a defiant incline of her chin, Naalie's voice rang out in the arena.

"I refuse to kill this helpless gladiator." She paused, her eyes lowering to meet those of Bjornulf. "Yield," she demanded.

His breath came in pants, gasping for air through the pain of his wounds and the shame of his defeat. "He..." Bjornulf started, his voice low... low enough that his words were lost to all save a single Miqo'te. "... He promised... me riches... if I could kill you. And...  he... he promised suffering... if I couldn't." Bjornulf spat, red phlegm staining the sand at Naalie's sandals. "You... have to... finish it."

The desperation was heavy in his words, carrying the weight of his fear and chilling Naalie to her core. Before she could process this, the Hrothgar lunged forward with a strength she didn't realize he still possessed; the severity of his wounds made it a clumsy endeavor at best, but Naalie saw it for what it was worth: an opening to give his death some glory, so he would pass from this world a fighter on his feet rather than a weakling on his knees.

With a quick motion, Naalie stepped to the side as he staggered in front of her; turning her sword in hand, Naalie brought the point downward just behind his clavicle. It cut through flesh and down into his pumping heart, stilling the organ. With a cry, Naalie jerked her blade free; the cooling corpse of Bjornulf slumped face-first into the sands as his life's blood spilled across the aptly named arena's floor.

Bitter tears stinging her eyes, Naalie lifted her head to stare out to the crowd in victory. She saw none of the cheering faces, the contorted fans enrapt with the spectacle before them. Only a solitary Lalafell turning his back and slowly walking away.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Swimming”

Wrote this one from a couple of requests wanting to know what Sunny would think about swimming. Hope its at least something fun to read on a Tuesday :) 

Sunny had never seen so much blue before. The sky above and the water below stretching out to the horizon in all directions. The polar field in the sky above was a beautiful metallic rainbow that reflected off the water causing the entire planet to sparkle like a prism…..

It was terrifying.

Sunny had never seen so much water before. Of course their planet HAD water, it was sort of important when it came to life sustaining a planet, but most of it was in shallow rivers, and abandoned underground lava tubes and caverns. Most of her planet’s water was fed by underground springs, and the largest lake was located thousands of miles away on the other side of the planet meaning she had never actually seen it before.

Even those times she had visited earth, they had been located in the center of the landmass, and it barely occurred to her that the planet was almost 2/3s water. The humans seemed very excited about the entire thing, but as Krill had stated before, the vast majority of humans LOVED large bodies of water. She had no idea why, whether it was cultural or evolution that caused this, but it was sort of terrifying.

She found herself poised on the edge of lunging forward as her marines, and mostly Adam, leaned out precariously over the edge of the boat. She feared that the humans would fall in and drown or something and wished they would just relax, but there Adam was holding onto nothing more than a taut rope, feet braced against the side of the boat and leaning out over the water held up by a single hand. Wind whipped at his hair and shirt eyes closed and smiling.

She would generally have been glad to see that he was happy if he wasn’t hanging over a trillion gallons of liquid death.

Their boat cut a little right, and, in the distance, sunny could see a tall peak of rocks surrounded by a little beach that was no more than a football field all the way around. Clinging to  the rocks she could see some sort of strange colorful plant-life, but it was too far away to see at this point.

She spent the next few minutes trying to keep the marines from falling off the edge of the boat, which in the end only earned her some weird looks. Krill floated mildly at the front of the boat, and oddly enough it seemed as if he was more relaxed than she was.

In his case, she was worried that he was going to fly off the edge of the boat and end up sinking into the depths below, but luckily, they made it to the tiny island, and the human hopped off onto the sand. The scientists began taking their samples , the water, the sand, the strange plant life. When everything was cleared, predictably, humans began touching things, mostly picking up the sand and marveling at how soft it was.

She pointed out they had no idea what kind of dangerous things could be in there, but Adam, the commander, lying on his back in the sand looked up at her with a grin, “Nope,  not with the new protocol I made up. It's called the TISICTI for short, or for long the “Test it so I can touch it” protocol. Krill threw a fit enough times I thought it would be a good compromise.” He motioned towards the scientist, “What do you think we have them for.”

She frowned, “I sort of assumed they were here to do, you know, science and stuff. Like samples and testing and whatever else.”

The man shrugged, “I mean yes, but more importantly, they are here to make sure that we can safely touch things.” 

He leaned his head back against the sand with his eyes closed, “Honestly, this planet isn’t exactly of particular interest accept for the water and beaches. NO sentient lifeform owns it. The biggest creature are weird sort of whales, and most members of the GA don’t want anything to do with it, so here we are.” His single eye popped open, “Oh, that reminds me.” He stood from the sand and motioned to the marines, “Break out the cooler, and radio to the crew that the planet is non-toxic.” He rubbed his hands together with a grin, “Let's do this.” 

Sunny watched for the next few minutes in fascinated confusion as the humans, transformed the little beach into an island paradise. Colorful blankets and towels she wasn’t even aware the owned were laid out across the sand with large umbrellas staked into the sand against the sun. Big blue coolers of drinks and snacks were set out every few yards. And soon enough other members of the crew began to appear docking boats on the designated part of their little island.

Unlike the marines, these crew members were barely dressed, lugging more towels, and large dark glasses that helped them block out the sun.

Adam Jumped up on one of the coolers just as things were getting started whistling very loudly so that the group turned to look up at him, “Alright, a few rules before we get started. This is not our planet, and you know human history of taking care of oceans and shit. By the time we leave, I want to make sure it looks like we were never here. For every piece of trash I find on the beach or in the water after this is all over, you all are getting docked pay by a credit. Each  rock is to be thoroughly explored before you jump off. I don’t want anyone breaking their neck while out, and if anyone asks what we were doing today. You were performing reconnaissance for the suitability of human life. Got it.”

The humans let of a whoop of excitement, and Adam grinned, “Alright you crazy kids. The Mission starts now, and I expect a full report from every one of you once your done.”

Sunny had never seen an order followed so fast. Within the next few minutes humans were flrolicking in the water, and on the sand or simply lounging in the sun with their feet in the sand. The marines were relieved of their duty, and made quick time in removing all their gear exposing the fact they had expected something like this to happen. 

Maverick walked past Sunny down the beach wearing nothing more than what sunny would have considered underwear and a baseball cap. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was supposed to feel uncomfortable with that, but none of the humans seemed to mind. In fact, there was a significant number of humans who were wearing even less which hardly made sense since humans made physical privacy a very big issue.

Apparently here that didn’t count.

She turned up the beach Just in time to find Adam struggling to pull off his gear. The pants got stuck on his foot and he pitched into the sand with a laugh shaking his foot trying to squeeze out of the tactical gear. When he stood up he was wearing nothing more than shorts and was partially covered in sand.

Walking past Ramirez raised a hand, “Wow commander, put a shirt back on. I’m being blinded.”

Adam turned to look at him, “oh please Ramirez, you are just jealous of my stunning physique.” He flexed just then sending laughter up through close by members of the crew. 

Sunny looked between the two of them. Ramirez had a bigger chest and biceps, but she had to admit he may have skipped leg day a couple times. Adam clearly kept a schedule for his workouts. She would never have said it, to much a boost to his ego, but she would have given it to Adam 

Then again, maybe she was biased. 

However, Adam, and all the other marines had reason to brag if she knew anything about human physicality, so she decided to give all of them credit. 

Adam walked past her towards the water UV light reflecting in diamond colors off his skin. Invisible stripes, to humans, covered his body in an intricate and almost beautiful pattern of swirls and striations. Generally, human skin color would have never been considered beautiful to a Drev, but with the addition of the invisible patterns on their skin reflecting in rainbow colors to sunny’s vision, it was actually quite beautiful.

“Hey Sunny, you Coming?” 

She turned her head to follow him where he stood at the edge of the water, “I…. Into the water?” She stammered.

“Yeah, of course into the water.” He smiled, “That's the point of going to the beach.” 

Sunny took a step back and then shuffled her feet in the sand.

Adam tilted his head, “hey, what’s wrong.”

She rubbed the back of her head with an upper arm, a habit she had picked up from the humans. “Well…. I….”

“Do you….. Not know how to swim?” He wondered. Behind him Maverick went floating past on her back 

Sunny shook her head, “We…. don’t have large bodies of water on my planet.”

The man clapped himself on the forehead, “right, Right, I totally forgot. You know the GA classified our planet as Aquatic. Forget that that’s not normal.” He walked back up the beach feet slipping in the sand and then took her by the hands his one green eye reflecting the polar lines in the sky above.

“Come on. We’ll take it easy.” Still holding her hands, Sunny allowed him to lead her backwards down the beach towards the water, “You’ll be fine. I promise.” They had reached the edge of the water now, and with great apprehension sunny stepped into the water. 

It was warm.

“That;s it, just keep coming. The man urged, and she stepped a little deeper. The water reached to her knees now, and high on the human’s thighs. He kept leading her into the water, and in apprehension, she watched as the water line drew up her stomach and towards her chest. However, the human stopped at about his chest height, “See, not so bad is it.” She moved her lower arms around in the water marveling at the strange sensation.

The human kicked his feet up spread his arms out, and was suddenly floating on the surface of the water. He kicked a little bit with his legs swimming around her in a circle before letting his feet down again, “Time to see if you can float…. I’m almost thinking maybe not, but that’s ok because we have life jackets.”

He swam behind her taking her by the shoulders, “Ok, I just want you to lay back rise your feet and just let your arms hang out to the sides, I promise you won’t drown, and you can stand up at any time.”

Sunny nodded in apprehension but leaned her head back and kicked her feet up off the bottom. The human supported her weight from behind,and past the water she could feel his hands on her back. Water rushed against her ears muffling all noise around. He let his hands relax, and to her dismay, she began to sink, but just as she was beginning to feel panic, hands pushed her back to the surface and stood her back up. The human smiled at her then winked, which in his case was more of a blink, “Guess you're too dense, but that's ok.” he turned back towards the beach, “HEY RAMIREZ!”  

The human sat up on his beach towel and lowered his sunglasses, “What!” 

“Toss me some of those  water wing things right next to you, yeah.” Sunny watched in interest as four strange air filled rubber doughnuts were tossed to them. 

“Hold a second.” He said grabbing one of her arms and slipping It through the doughnut until it was high up on her arm. He did that three more times and then had her try the floating thing again. To her surprise, it worked, and though her feet sank, Adam’s instruction to lightly kick her feet helped to keep her lower half upwards in the water.

It was honestly kind of relaxing.

The human kept close by one hand on her arm.

Eventually she felt comfortable with letting him go. He showed her how humans swim openly admitting that he wasn’t the best at it. He knew freestyle and backstroke, which sort of just involved kicking your feet and pinwheeling your arms. Generally she was mostly just impressed on how fast the humans could swim when they clearly weren't meant for an aquatic environment.

She learned the hard way that humans could dive as well when Adam vanished under water for more than ten seconds and she began to panic. He popped up a few years to her left seconds later shaking water from his ears.

At one point she was floating on her back just relaxing when she felt something suddenly grab her leg.

She shrieked in panic and flailed about in fear. Then a body erupted from the water. Maverick peered at her through a set of dorky goggles spewing water through a tube connected to her mouth. She removed the tube and grinned at Sunny, “He he, almost pissed yourself right there.” Before Sunny could retort, the human vanished under water once again swimming away only to drag Adam underwater.

Sunny watched in worry thinking that she was trying to drown him, but apparently dunking someone was considered acceptable.

Eventually they moved closer to the beach, and they began a game with a brightly colored ball knocking it into the air and trying to keep it from touching the water Sunny was pretty good at the game, but wasn’t excited when she ended up falling and vanishing below the water. She almost freaked out before remembering she could stand coming up and spewing water from her nose. The humans laughed at her.

A few hours of that was followed by another few hours of lying in the sun on the sand. Adam requisitioned one of her arms as a pillow and ended up falling asleep in the humid warmth.

He eventually woke up when someone announces they had discovered a diving rock, and Sunny watched as Krill almost had a conniption when the humans began leaping from twenty feet up and into the water. Sunny almost followed his lead when the humans began doing tricks. Adam was the first, leaping outwards, and then pitching downwards face first hands held above his head. Sunny was sure he'd break his face doing something like that, but he came back up to a cheering crowd.

If that wasn’t bad enough they began doing flips after that rotating backwards and forwards and sideways attempting to spin as many times as possible. Yet none of them ever seemed to get hurt upon doing this. 

One of the human lab technicians managed two flips which turned into a dive, and it turned out she had been a competitive diver at university. That thought worried sunny because that meant there were humans out there who flipped themselves around off of high places just to look cool, and they did it for a living.

“Hey Ramirez, dare you to do a belly flop.” Adam said in passing to the other man.

Ramirez look up at the rock.

The rest of the group began chanting. Sunny did not like the sound of this, but the man shrugged and began climbing. The group began to scream and chant as he made it to the top of the rock. 

Krill ran up just then, “Ok that’s it. Stop right there.”

Sunny looked down at him, mostly ignored, “What are they doing.”

“I don’t know,but when humans start chanting, it’s never good.” Ramirez took a step back and then leaped forward spreading his arms out wide to either side chest downwards. 

The slap he made upon hitting the water was tremendous. Sunny winced and Krill cursed. The humans waited for a long moment staring at the water, but then Ramirez broke the surface gasping and the humans began to cheer.

He got a serious lecture fromKrill upon crawling onto land, his entire chest, legs, thighs and the side of his face one bright red welt.

Eventually she convinced Adam to stop by dragging him back out into the water. This time he appropriated a strange floating object in bright pink, and together they floated just off the beach using the pink thing as some weird sort of water cushion. 

Sunny had no idea where humans came up with these ideas. 

I was when the clouds started gathering in the distance that the humans decided now would be a good time to leave. They packed up all their things in record time and Adam had them comb the beach several times before allowing them to leave. Te shuttles reached atmosphere just as the massive hurricane passed below them. It was many miles wide, and radar detected that the surface winds were somewhere around two hundred miles an hour.

To say that Krill was not amused would have been a massive understatement.

Still though, the day had been fun.

She couldn't think of a better day in living memory. 

[bloodredx]

Day 27: Midnight

The old bell at the center of Reedsdale sang out its chime, the low echoes of the metallic clang reverberated around the buildings to let folks know it was far too late to be out and about. Didn’t stop anyone though. There were parties to go to, bars to sample, and the night to enjoy. Bones didn’t have to count the chimes to know what time it was, midnight on the nose. And where was that pain in the ass little mage? He was the one who wanted to meet him, not the other way around. He could be sleeping, or at least at home if rest would not find him. Sometimes it was just too much of a pain to come all the way into town from the deep swamp. Especially when the waters were high.

He leaned against a nearby lamp post, contemplating whether or not to just bail. While he was rarely on time himself, he didn’t mind not extending any courtesies to those who would waste time themselves. He made note of the cobbled streets, counting a few stones before becoming bored of the action. He had intentionally chosen a more residential side of Reedsdale, so as to have some level of privacy. There were far too many still out and about downtown for Bones to feel comfortable meeting someone like Pria without incident.

Feeling a rush of cold air, Bones glanced to his left, seeing a flash of black cloth settle into the outline of the boy. “Hey Pria.” He grunted without much fanfare, pulling a cigarette from the box in his pocket.

“Salutations.” The ever so cheerful voice shined back. Bones had never seen the kid’s face, but nothing he could picture ever matched the tone he always spoke in.

“What ya want from me? I ain’t got much time, so make it quick.” Bones flicked his lighter, igniting his smoke with a single motion.

“One has as much time as needed.” Pria noted, seeming to bounce on their toes before continuing. “Have you ever noticed how thin the air gets at midnight?”

Raising a brow, Bones grunted a single “No.” It was a lie of course, he had been around enough to know that the world felt different at midnight, but it held no other significance to him. But it was in his nature to play the idiot, and let people explain their purposes.

“Magic just seems easier.” Pria concluded, a slight clap to their hands. “Air tastes better too.”

“And ya brought me all the way into town to just say that?”

“Sure, why not? You fascinate me, Bones. I quite enjoy your company. Wouldn’t you want to spend time with fellow wielders at such an hour?”

“I ain’t much for playin’ with magic unneeded.” His eyes again wandered over the cobbles, thinking longingly for the road back home and back to bed. “I also haven’t spent much ‘round other mages, at least not formally. Too stiff with all their rules, colleges ain’t a place for me.”

There was a soft silence, before Pria took a step forward. “You don’t like me much.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact. There wasn’t much emotion attached to it either.

“Can’t say I’mma fan of anyone dragging me into town this late.”

“Aw, don’t say that. All the fun things happen after midnight. It allows us to do things like this.”

A low roar was heard in the distance, and the sound of stomping feet were getting louder with every step. Bones didn’t know why he was so surprised, but he leapt into the air, summoning his staff, bracing himself for the sight of whatever weird creation Pria had come up with now. He turned his head to yell at the boy, but as usual he was already gone. Bones bit his lip and rushed to meet the beast head on.

In Pria’s usual fashion in making nightmare creatures, this thing was massive. It nearly reached three stories in height, its sewn skin dripping off of it in pieces, leaving a convenient trail to follow if Bones ever lost sight of it, but how could you lose sight of such a large beast? Antlers jutted out on all the joints, splitting between exposed muscles. If the sight alone wouldn’t make one vomit, the smell certainly did. How did he keep this thing under wraps for so long? Bones sneered as he began to doubt his own senses, normally he’d sense this creature the second it was animated. Perhaps there was something else in play here. That could be solved later, right now he had to at least get this thing out of town, and then destroy it somehow without getting its foul flesh all over his body.

Bones stuck his fingers between his lips, blowing a shrill whistle to get the monster’s attention. “Hey big boy, come’n get it!” He waved his free hand and began to fly down the street, leading towards the tree line.

The beast opened its maw and released a horrendous roar, turning to follow the tempting prize of the necromancer. At least it was stupid and sight oriented. “That’s it, come play with me! What, ya so pathetic ya can’t even fly? Your master must not love ya at all.”

It flexed its muscles, crouching to build up tension and then releasing it all at once flinging its weight several hundred feet forward. “Aw, hell.”

Bones dodged at the last possible second, the monster passing him easily. Note, bad plan to taunt it too much. Could cause needless destruction. Just as he was pondering what to do next, a buzz reminded him of the flip phone in his pocket. “What now?” He flipped the phone open. “Make it quick. Got my hands full.”

“Where are you?” Icarus’s voice squeaked through the speaker.

“Tryin’ to keep the neighborhood from bein’ ripped apart.” The monster roared again, as if wanting a part in the conversation. “Where the hell are ya?”

“Walking to town, what the hell was that?”

“A pain in my ass, can ya get down to the east side and give me a hand?”

“I’ll try.”

“Ya better.” Bones slammed the phone shut and refocused on leading it away. They were so close to being out of harm’s way.

Bones jet himself forward, focusing inward to feel the skeletal structure of this thing, maybe he could take over influence of its action. They were too far from any known burial sites for him to summon any assistance, and who knows how long it would take Icarus to arrive, or if he’d be any help at all. But if he could hijack its energy, maybe he could just bend it to his will. Bones’s eyes glowed purple, trying to make out what made this thing tick, seeing the aura of magic moving over its body was fascinating. There were so many connection points and the system seemed to be finely tuned. He couldn’t directly notice a weak point. But there were flares when it charged up to move, as if it had limited capacity to hold together, it was leaking energy something fierce. How did Pria manage to get this thing moving in the first place? He must’ve tricked several mages into powering its core, there was no other way to get that much force from one person. Let alone a kid.

A rustle of branches let Bones now Icarus had just arrived, not to mention to shriek of fear once he laid eyes on it. “What the fuck is that?!?”

“Doesn’t matter, help me kill it.” Bones growled, beginning to chant wards to block the beast from moving further.

It screamed once it realized its muscles were locking up, turning to spitting up whatever bile was circulating in it. Icarus was fear struck, he had never seen anything like this, or heard about monsters of this size. His hands shook as he tried to figure out exactly where he should start on such a being. He slit his palm, forming one of his throwing knives in his hands. This would be such a waste of blood, and he cursed himself for coming out to this at all.

He threw the blade at the beast’s knee, trying to cut the sinews that gave it mobility, the blade struck alright, but didn’t seem to make much of a dent. It only proceeded to make the thing even more pissed off, Icarus knew this due to the blow a swinging fist that caught him to the side, the force throwing him into the tree tops.

“Shit.” Bones whispered between chants, lowering his altitude to see if Icarus was alright. The stirring of leaves let him know the vampire was at least still alive. That was good. What was not so good was the beast winding up to get him next. He had to end this right now. “I’m gonna hate life no matter what, so here we go.”

With little choice, Bones flung himself into the chest of the beast, grabbing onto portions of exposed ribcage, and willing his magic directly into the conglomeration of bones. His body screamed at the dishonor of touching such a filthy thing, the image of whatever ooze, bile, and other miscellaneous filth covering his hands. Just a minute longer, he could freak out in a minute, just take this thing down.

Icarus freed himself from the leaves, dropping down to gear up from a more close range attack, snapping his dislocated should back into the socket. He was pissed, feeling the heat rising into his hands, so he summoned a new knife. He would make that thing regret its every move. He rushed forward, realizing that his leg wasn’t properly centered but he would worry about healing later. The lust of adrenaline was controlling him now. His new blade sunk into its leg, and he pulled it out, slashing and tearing at the flesh like a mad man.

Glowing purple runes suddenly bubbled up to the surface of its flesh, giving Icarus enough warning to leap back. The beast screamed as flesh flung off its body in a sick rain of gore, increasing in speed until only the bones remained. The light of its eyes went out, collapsing to the ground. “Well that went well.” Icarus moaned in pain as the adrenaline wore off. His senses came back for a moment, where the hell was Bones?

He carefully moved around the monster, looking through coagulates of flesh, moving bone and marrow around, listening for the telltale sound of the mage’s heartbeat. He rolled over the ribcage, finding him unconscious underneath and leaking black smoke out of his mouth. “Fuck.”

He picked up his ooze-covered friend and ran back to the house. He needed to call Lady Serena right now. Nothing good was about to happen, he could feel it in his blood. His mother always told him nothing good happened after midnight, and now more than ever he knew what she meant. He just hoped there was time to fix this.

(OC-tober prompt list by @oc-growth-and-development can be found here)

[andy-the-8th]

Summer Research

Part 7 of Creatures That Defy Logic

Read on AO3

Jess is mapping and navigating the reefs on the coasts. John is navigating how to be a better father.

Contains a direct homage one of the most intense scenes in Moonlight (2016)

cw: homophobia, homophobic slurs, bullying, minor violence

Salty spray kicked up against the rocks, splashing with the breaking waves in the warm June sunlight. It was only late morning, but Jess had already been out at the coast for several hours.

Ever since getting past his fear of swimming (mostly), he'd realized his exploration and study of the local reefs and waters had entirely new unlocked potential. He couldn't properly dive yet - scuba was expensive and dangerous, nevermind he was probably too young - but there was plenty you could see with a snorkel in the clear shallow waters around Mahone Bay.

Jess had spent much of the last few weeks working on one stretch of coastline, on the opposite end of the harbor from where the Griffins lived. It was only a half hour bike ride from the marina, but far enough that there was rarely any significant boat activity.

From his searches at the library, Jess knew that there were very generalized maps of the offshore waters nearby - mostly just marking depths for the benefit of fishing and boating, the better to not get run aground.

However, no one had ever mapped the different micro-ecosystems, the biological landscape of the waters. Jess had decided to make this his ongoing personal research project for the summer.

Days started early, just after sunrise - temperature checks of the water and air, confirming locations with latitude and longitude. Surveys of the tide pools, updated with proper location data: tracking all species identified, recording numbers.

Once the sun was up, he'd swim out to the shallows. There were plenty of rock reefs, kelp forests, and flats within comfortable swimming range of the beach - California didn't have a lot in the ways of coral, on account of the cold open ocean currents, but what species it did have were in the southern part of the state, right where Mahone was situated on the coast. Jess had marked out 50 ft lengths of beach into specific zones, then gridded out 50 ft from the shore, 100, 150, 200 - he didn't swim out much past 200. Every day he'd pick a zone, head out with waterproof clipboard, spend the morning swimming down and resurfacing, noting everything he saw.

The rest of the afternoon he'd spend going over field guides from the library, trying to match up his observations with species he could name and identify. He'd fill it in on his data grid, another little patch of ocean, a little bit more closely explored.

This was not a terribly efficient system of research.

Still, it certainly was good practice field work, good exercise, and a good way for Jess to throw himself at his passions and not think too hard about people for a while.

That was the best part of the work - Jess didn't get lonely doing it. Marine biology had always been his main interest, but he'd spent 13 years unable to go past the tide pools for any in-person field observations. There was SO much lost time to make up.

Jess was dutiful with keeping records of his research, carefully sorted in folders in his room, labeled spiral notebooks, Xeroxed maps from the library, hand-drawn data tables and grids. His dad had asked after the first week or so if he was doing some kind of summer extra credit project, a bit surprised at how much literature Jess seemed to be producing.

Of course, he wasn't - Jess did all this on his own, like any responsible aspiring scientist. The work was its own reward.

John had kept his distance the first few weeks of the summer - Jess could tell how sorry he was for what happened. In his own way,  Jess had tried to show that he'd forgiven him the last day or two - they'd never been particularly talkative, but at least Jess stopped purposefully not talking to him. He wasn't sure if his dad had picked up on that yet.

Jess thought of that as he was putting his charts and books into his bag. It was still the early in the day, but he'd decided to cut field work short today in favor of heading to the library. He had stayed out on the shore a bit to dry in the air before pedaling home. Jess usually swam with a long sleeve swim shirt, mostly to prevent sunburn and maintain body heat in the early morning water, but it meant not drying out quite as quickly. He'd have to change before going to the library.

The ride back to the marina felt a little longer than usual from the sun and heat beating down - Jess didn't normally make the trip in the middle of the day. Veering off the smooth road onto the crushed gravel of the marina, he quickly rolled to a stop under the overhang just outside the shed door next to the workshop, into the shade, before hurrying up the metal steps along the side of the building to the apartment.

The space wasn't large - really just one area for a living room/kitchen, two bedrooms, and one small bathroom at the end of the hall. The walls of the living room were mostly for maps, fishing photographs, an odd nautical salvaged antique here or there. There was a little mantle, more of a shelf (given that there was no fireplace) along the wall, with a small row of photos in frames.

Jess's school photos from the last few years. A picture of John's parents in front of the marina when it just was one workshop and shack. A photo of Jess's mother and father on their wedding day at the far end.

Jess hadn't ever known his mom - Evy, as his dad would refer to her when reminiscing. She had passed away before he was 2 year years old. In a way, it also meant he didn't really miss her either - like it or not, he'd only ever known life with just John.

He walked quickly down the hall to his room, changed into dry clothes, hung his swim shirt and towel out the sill of the small window overlooking the boat yard to dry in the sun. Carefully took the books out of his bag, swapped out the ones from his desk due back at the library, catalogued his notes. The whole process took only 15 minutes or so, and he was headed back down the outside steps to his bike.

"Where you headed, Jess?"

Even growing up with him had never quite gotten rid of the surprise when John would speak unexpectedly from his small dark study in the shed, surrounded by all his nets, salvaging gear, mermaid memorabilia. Jess jumped a bit at the sound.

"Oh uh, just going to the library, switch out some books."

"Do you, uh, want a ride? I was going to drive into town this afternoo-"

"No Dad, it's OK. I'll just go on my own."

Jess strapped on his helmet, grabbed the handlebars, starting walking his bike toward the road, out into the sun, leaving his father in the shade.

"Jess, can we tal-"

"I don't really want to talk about it. I know. I know you didn't mean any harm. I forgive you for that, or whatever. I don't want to have to go over it again."

Jess never really spoke back to his father like that. He paused, nervous, realizing how gruff he might have sounded.

John didn't really move or say anything for a second. Jess wondered if he might actually get mad at him right then.

He didn't. John breathed in and out heavily, eyes fixed on the floor, then looked up at his son.

"Thank you Jess. Thank you for forgiving me."

Immediately awkward but not wanting to ruin the moment, Jess shakily nodded and half-smiled. "You're welcome."

"You sure you don't want a ride into town?"

"No Dad, I'm fine."

He pushed himself onto the bike, kicked off the gravel, and pedaled out of the marina.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Back again Mr. Wheatley?"

The lady behind the front desk at Mahone Bay's small library had a pretty good memory for faces as it was, and Jess had been coming by at least once a week for the last couple years.

"Yes Ms. Mullins, just returning some books." Jess put the small stack on the counter, helpfully handing her each one to sign it back in, then stamping his library card. The library had just gotten a computer last year, but most of the checkout systems were done on paper, especially for reference texts and maps.

"So what are you studying these days? Still mapping the reefs on the south shore?"

"Yup! Plenty more beach still to go, and that's just documenting what I can see this time of year!"

By now Ms. Mullins looked forward to Jess's visits; he was always so polite, so eager to talk about what he was studying. It was a nice break from most of the teen boys one might encounter as a front desk library lady.

The door slid open behind them, another patron coming into the cool lobby out of the hot sun. A gust of the summer heat followed whoever it was through the door.

"Jess?"

Well, that wasn't a voice he normally heard this time of year.

"Mrs. Nelson?" There was a special weirdness in running into a teacher outside of school, and doubly so in the summer - almost like they were regular humans or something.

"How's your summer going? Did I hear you're doing research again?"

"I am! Continuing some of the topography studies Cody and I started on our project, but now I'm documenting up to 200 ft away from the coast, and moving it to the south side of the harbor! I've been charting all the coral and plants on the reefs, the temperatures, composition of the rocks, any animal species I can find....."

Mrs. Nelson smiled as he continued, impressed but not surprised at how much work Jess had taken on. Sure, his methods were....perhaps imprecise....but his heart was really in it. And his observations could actually be quite useful for studying the shallows around the bay, effectively building a map of all the biomes.

Always a great moment as a teacher to see one of your students applying your subject in the real world - even if they're a 13 year old amateur oceanographer.

"That's really great Jess!"

Jess had finished, a bit breathless after giving what he'd thought was a concise and quick review of his work. He was a tinge self-conscious at how much he'd spoken in such a quick burst - Sam had advised him to tone it down a bit. Then again, Mrs. Nelson was a biology teacher, and she clearly didn't show any signs of being bored or annoyed.

"Would you be interested in bringing in your research at the end of the summer? Not as homework of course, just to share your findings. You could maybe even present it for my next year's biology class if you want?"

Jess lit up like a lighthouse at that.

"Oh I'd love to! That'd be great!"

Mrs. Nelson smiled again. "Well, I won't keep you from your work any longer. Good luck! Always a great day for science." She often ended class with that little adage.

"Always a great day for science" Jess agreed, as she walked past him into the library.

"Will that be everything today dear?" Ms. Mullins was looking over the desk at him, the last book checked in and moved to the cart for re-shelving.

Jess had gotten distracted, dizzingly pre-planning how he might present his research to next year's class. "Oh, yeah. Thank you ma'am, I'll see you next week." He turned back to the automatic doors, the warm air hitting again as he stepped outside, walked down the sidewalk to the bike rack.

The library was right on the main strip in town - Mahone Bay wasn't big, so most of the usual staples were all on one or two main streets. The library sat across from the post office and a coffee shop adjoining it next door; on one side was the town hall, on the other another line of shops - tourist traps, small bookstores and craft places, small restaurants and cafes. Apartments over top of them.

Jess was just about done unchaining his bike and putting on his helmet when he caught a shadow of someone walking toward him on the sidewalk - too late.

"Ugh, watch it!" Jess started to get up to apologize to whoever it was who half-tripped over him. He looked up to see three unfortunately familiar faces.

"Oh great. How's it going Josh, summer OK?" Of course luck would have it that Sean Marshall would almost trip over him in front of the library. His voice hadn't lost any of the disdain from the last time they'd spoken - when Sean had been pretty unambiguously about to beat Jess up pretty bad.

"I-I'm sorry Sean. I didn't see you, I...." Jess stammered, surprised and more than a little shaken to see Sean again. He didn't know the other two other than that they were other swim team guys - also familiar from the last day of school as part of Sean's hangers-on crowd.

"Yeah, you should be."

"OK, I'm sorry, I am," Jess just wanted to leave now. He wanted to be away from these guys and away from whatever this might lead to.

Sean got quiet again as Jess started to get on his bike up the hill to head off. "Learned not to talk back to me, huh smartass?"

Jess knew this was an attempt to bait him. He knew he shouldn't say anything, but then again, not saying anything was equally giving Sean what he wanted.

Annoying how these bullying asshole types always created these Catch-22 situations.

"I guess I just don't really have anything to say to you right now."

If it wasn't for the proximity it brought him to physical harm, Jess would find that look of insulted surprise in Sean's eyes incredibly funny. At least he didn't give him the last word.

"Oh you'll be sorry now, no one speaks to me like that, you little fucking fag," Sean growled, starting toward Jess - it would only be seconds for him to cover the couple meters between where the three had been standing and where Jess was on his bike a bit up the sidewalk.

The library doors slid open again right as the words left his lips - Mrs. Nelson had apparently finished whatever she needed to do at the library and serendipity had her emerge right at that second.

She may only technically only hold authority in school, but a teacher being directly in sight was enough to defuse most bullies away from outright violence.

"Mr. Marshall, good to see you." Mrs. Nelson definitely didn't sound happy to see him. She was definitely using The Teacher Voice here. "Was there some problem?"

Just like before, Sean wiped away his more dangerous side effortlessly, unnervingly cool and charming in an instant. "No Mrs. Nelson, no problem. Just getting a chance to catch up with Josh."

In the back of his mind Jess wondered if all these swim team people called him Josh on purpose, or if it was a genuine mistake - not the most pressing matter at hand though.

Mrs. Nelson was looking at him pointedly now, then back at Sean. "OK then. Stay out of trouble boys. Jess, I'll see you later then?"

That was a confusing statement: she hadn't said anything about reviewing his research today.

Unless she was making it clear to Sean and the others that he would be missed, should he not get home safe today. That made Jess shudder to think about.

"Uh, OK, definitely! Thanks Mrs. Nelson!"

She sent another tough glare at the other three, and stood by the outside of the building til they moved along. Sean turned back and sneered at Jess, a dangerous glint in his eyes - he wasn't going to forget this.

Mrs. Nelson quickly walked up the sidewalk once the other three boys were out of sight down the hill, stopping right in front of where Jess was still poised on his bike.

"Jess, is there anything you need help with? Anything you want me to know here?" He'd heard that same line from teachers before - teachers knowing something was going on, but knowing they lacked proof unless a student actually told them something. He knew she did genuinely want to help.

Unfortunately, he also knew how it usually went when you tried to report bullying.

"Kids will be kids." "Boys will be boys." "They'll sort it out."

"No Mrs. Nelson, I'm fine." Jess started to get on moving, pointing his bike up the road to head home. Jess saw in her face that she knew he wasn't telling her everything.

"OK. If you're ever not, please don't be afraid to tell someone." Jess knew she really did care. But he also knew teachers could only do so much.

"Really, I'm OK. It was nice to see you, have a good rest of your summer" Jess tried to smile and sound confident as he turned and pedaled off.

Mrs. Nelson straightened up as Jess went over the hill and out of sight. Another one scared to ask for help. God, if she ever caught that Sean Marshall red handed. Fullest extent of suspension possible, swim champion or not. If only they weren't going to be in the high school next year, away from where she'd be around.

Still, she could tell Jess was tougher than most people would give him credit for. She hoped that would always be enough.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whether it was smart to do so or not, Jess took the long way home. Much of the afternoon heat had dissipated by the time he saw the marina coming up on the road - of course it would be light past 8 at night this time of year, but the sun was past its zenith for the day. He sped through the shadows of the boat masts and antennae crisscrossing along the gravel, turned and rolled to a stop under the overhang, put his bike just inside the shed door and hung his helmet on the handlebar. He was half-wondering if his dad would still be in his study from earlier today.

He wasn't, and from what Jess could tell once he got upstairs, he wasn't home at all. Jess wasn't surprised - it was still early in the day all things considered, and he often worked late out at the docks. Even if it was just outside the walls of the apartment, he was still at work, busy fixing up whatever boat pieces or engines the fishermen had brought in, sorting through whatever salvage he'd trawled up earlier that week.

Jess went in his room and closed the door, leaving the lights off, window open to try to get some cool sea air inside. He picked up the shirt and towel off the sill, hung them over the chair in front of his small desk. He laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, took off his glasses, let the world go blurry.

He really wasn't a stranger to bullies, but there was something more cutting about his last two run-ins with Sean Marshall. Most prominently, he knew at least something about Cody - in more ways than one, that could be used to hurt Jess in a way other bullies never could. What if Sean ever worked out what really happened? What if he told anyone else? What if what he'd said about Cody not caring about Jess had any truth in it?

There was something else though. Jess hadn't let himself look it up, even though he definitely wanted to. He wanted to know what it was that Sean had been calling him. Why it stung so strangely, even without knowing the definition.

Just from context though, he knew that it wasn't something he could ask a teacher, or a librarian. And definitely not something to type into a computer's search engine.

A shuffle and the sound of the door closing outside his room let Jess know his dad had come in. Jess sat up, rubbed his eyes, and put his glasses back on. The sun had gone down while he'd been lying there, thoughts writhing around his mind. He got up and opened the door to his room, softly padded down the hall to the small living room.

"Oh hey Jess." John was taking his boots off, putting them under where he'd already hung up his work overshirt on the little wall hooks next to the door. "How was the library?"

Words caught in Jess's throat, worse than he'd expected. "It was fine Dad. Dropped off my books. I ran into Mrs. Nelson too."

John mentally chided himself for not remembering who that was. After a second, it was clear Jess hadn't really expected him to either.

"She said I can bring her my research from mapping the south shore reefs at the start of next school year. Maybe even present it to the next year's biology class."

John smiled at that, moving past the pause a line ago. "Oh that's great! That's real good, gettin' to show off all the hard work you've been doin'."

"Yeah Dad, it'll be great." Jess finished quietly, like he was closing the door on talking any more right now. It was a familiar enough cadence to their discussions. Not exactly uncomfortable most of the time. John still got the sense there was something else Jess wanted to say, or didn't want to say, or....something. He couldn't pin it but he knew that Jess wasn't closing the conversation because he didn't have more to say.

"So I uh, smoked some sea bass for dinner." They didn't always eat together at the table, but when John had a particularly good catch he tried to make the time for it. Jess brightened a bit at that - sea bass was one of his favorites, with a mildly sweet flavor and less of a fishy aftertaste.

"Oh great! I'll, um, I'll get some plates out?" Jess said this quickly walking to the small cabinet over the stove, putting two old porcelain plates on the table. Smiling for a second at the dramatic mermaid designs etched into the old china.

John got the fish out of the fridge and heated it on the gas stove while Jess cut up potatoes to fry on the side. They worked mostly silently, only a word here or there - could you pass the seasoning, can I use that dishtowel - that sort of thing.

Still not whatever John could tell that his son was avoiding.

They didn't say grace or anything, but did take a moment of pause after both sitting down, fish and fries laid out on each plate, opposite ends of the short table.

John could see Jess making small looks up at him between bites, like he was trying to hide it. He knew not to push him. His mind could come up with a dozen things Jess could want to say to him, especially after the brief outburst earlier that day. A dozen things John had already known he'd done wrong, a dozen things he wanted to make better or make up for if he knew how. He felt like he was prepared for anything Jess could be about to say -

"Dad," Jess started hesitantly. His voice was soft. Almost scared.

John let a full beat pass, swallowing his own anxiety, ready to talk about whatever Jess was about to bring up.

Jess looked down at his plate, his voice only hair above a whisper. "What does 'faggot' mean?"

John could feel his own eyes widen, his own face freeze in shock. Of all the things he was ready for Jess to say, that was definitely not one of them. What was he even supposed to say to this?"

"Jess, uh, um...." he stammered to find words, trying to sound more confident than he really was. He hoped Jess wouldn't notice, or would forgive him that too if he did. Controlling his tone, he tried to sound caring and firm, but not accusatory. It still came out rougher than he'd wanted it to. "Jess, where did you hear that word?"

He could hear Jess breathe and shudder nervously at the other end of the table. Only a few feet apart in their small kitchen, he still felt both miles away and uncomfortably, vulnerably close.

"I don't know, uh...nowhere....just, um....someone at school."

"Did someone call you that Jess?" He couldn't keep the roughness out of that line.

"No." He said it too quickly, but John wasn't going to call him on the lie. He knew Jess kept things from him, especially when it came to his social problems. There were only so many times any kid could realistically "fall off a bike." There were only so many ways to "accidentally" break one's glasses.

"Well then." John breathed heavily again. Whatever he said now, he knew it might well be one of the most critical moments in his relationship with his son.

"Faggot, uh. Well, in British, it just means a pile of sticks." He tried to make it sound humorous, to push back against the stifling unease between them. Jess gave a compulsory half smile that vanished almost before John could see it.

"But um. It means, well.....it's something people say to hurt someone. To make them feel awful about themselves."

"OK, but what does it mean." Frustrated, Jess could tell he was talking around something. It hurt to see that his son clearly already knew that the word was meant to be hurtful.

John paused again, making every effort to even and soften his voice, to bury the rage he felt at whoever had brought his Jess to this point. To the cusp of crying out of frustration at his own kitchen table.

"It's a way to negatively call a man a homosexual." That was about as even and measured as he could have put that. Jess didn't look up from his lap, but he could see that his son's shoulders relaxed just a little bit.

"Oh."

Jess felt himself breathe out at that. Well, at least there was the answer.

"Jess, do you know what that -"

"Yeah, Dad, I know....I know what that means." Jess couldn't keep the lie out of his voice on that last part though. Sure, he could reason through the word's meaning - he knew enough Latin for that.

"Is that....even possible?" he asked in a hushed uptalk, looking up at John from behind his glasses.

"Is what possible Jess?"

"Homosexual, that means, um....." Jess wasn't exactly sure what meaning to go with. Having the same sets of sex chromosomes? Having offspring from two organisms of the same sex?

John paused, realizing Jess actually didn't know this one. On one hand, in the back of his mind John was at least a little glad his son hadn't had to learn this from someone else too - that there was a bit of innocence to grownup things left in him. On the other hand, he had to answer this truthfully. Some parenting conversations are never easy.

"Jess, you know how boys like to date and get married to girls?"

"Of course" Jess's cheeks flushed, surprised and embarrassed by wherever this was going. The space between them twisted taut, made the kitchen feel almost suffocating, but he had to get this right.

"Well, sometimes, um. Boys like other boys that way. Or girls like other girls too, I guess." John was trying to keep it as age-appropriate and neutral as he could. He watched Jess carefully, watched as he had turned his eyes nervously back to his plate.

The silence hung in the air. No change to the crushing, nervous energy in the room.

His voice still quiet, but almost thick with anxiety - hopefully not tears, John prayed - Jess spoke still looking down.

"Is that bad?"

In the split second after he said it, John's brain again whirred through possible explanations, outcomes, everything, knowing he had to get this right -to not think about politics, or society, or Jesus, or AIDS - not think about what Jess might be about to tell him, or might be about to realize. Just to be the best father he could to the small scared boy in front of him.

"No Jess. That's not bad."

They both exhaled - the air in the room felt just a bit more breathable. "It's different. It's not that common. But it's not bad."

Jess looked up then, breathed in and out, in and out, calming down. "OK. Thanks for explaining Dad." He closed in the same way he'd done other conversations - times when John had asked about a black eye, a broken glasses lens, a missing shoe. Times Jess thought he had gotten as much support from his father as he was going to.

"Jess." John said it gently but emphatically. His son looked up at him, surprised.

"No matter what you might hear, I want you to always remember: no one has the right to make anyone feel bad about themselves for being different. In any way."

John let the silence hang after that. He had to make sure Jess knew that.

Jess's eyes were a bit shiny behind his glasses as he looked back across the table, and nodded once again, a bit more confident. "Thanks Dad. I won't forget."

"Alright then."

They both finished the rest of dinner without speaking - not an uncomfortable silence. Both of them had to take time to process things when it came to people and emotions rather than mythology and marine biology. They were alike in that way.

Jess was finishing drying off the last dish John had handed to him. John looked at him carefully open the cabinet, carefully put it back, carefully fold the dish towel. So gentle and harmless.

God damn, he couldn't stand to imagine anyone hurting this kid.

Jess turned away from the stove, back toward the hall, toward his room. "Goodnight Dad. Thanks for the sea bass."

"Don't mention it, bud. Goodnight." John watched his son down the hall, start to open his door.

"Jess?"

"Yeah Dad?"

"I love you."

A quiet pause. John didn't move from where he was in the kitchen, hand still on the sponge at the sink. He didn't hear Jess moving at the far end of the apartment - he was still standing with the door to his room half open.

"I love you too, Dad."

John heard the door to Jess's room click closed. He felt his whole body relax as he turned, rinsing off the sponge, wringing it out over the sink.

He heard Jess's door click open. Worry caught in his throat again.

"You alright bud?"

"Yeah Dad, I forgot to brush my teeth." John felt the tension leave again. His Jess. Always so responsible.

END NOTES:

Definitely the heaviest entry in the series so far.

I know it might seem a bit far-fetched that Jess might not know what some things mean at this age, but I can attest that I based that on my own experience - everyone learns about things in their own time and being socially out-of-the-loop, especially pre-Internet, meant kids might not learn about things until later than they might nowadays

I think Mahone Bay is an actual place in Nova Scotia and that that may be where the movie was supposed to be set, but we're going to ignore that - the sealife in the movie much better lines up with California, so that's where this fictional Mahone Bay's going to be - it also might make future crossovers that may or may not be planned a little bit easier to work with.

On a lighter note I think I've also decided that Al Gore's going to win the 2000 election in this universe, and 9/11 and the Iraq invasion are not going to happen. I doubt those will impact the story as it's currently planned but y'know, never hurts to be prepared for such questions.

[lost-eternity]

Matchup Requests *CLOSED*

This was done as a trade instead of a standard match up, hence why I am permitting it. :)

Matchup for @stormra​

okie dokie I match you with...

I have to admit, this was a bit of a difficult one. It was really between Charles Grey and Sebastian. And it was close. But a few small details caused me to lean towards Grey instead of Sebby. I’ll explain why later on.

First of all, your love languages mesh rather perfectly

Charles Grey’s (inflated) ego causes him to thoroughly enjoy the praise and affection you lavish upon him

He enjoys being treated as a prince and has no inclination to returning these affections

It’s a selfish love but weirdly enough, it works

He also doesn’t give enough craps to care for society or propriety to be embarrassed or ashamed of your advances

He is quite inept at displaying physical affection and his attempts are half-hearted at best

It’s that blasted ego again

But he does try. In his own little way

He may (attempt to) awkwardly cook something for you, or more likely than not, force you to take fencing lessons

He always wins

And he goes really hard on you claiming that you would never learn if he went easy

It’s laborious and by the end of each session you are close to collapsing from exhaustion

Insert a lewd joke here, “Oh, my dear, if this is how easily you tire, I better condition you for my bedchamber...”

Yeah, it turns out he is a complete pervert sometimes

But fencing is one of the few ways he can actually express himself

Which seems a bit paradoxical if that expression is affection or love

But it is kind of cute.

He is determined to teach you, and although he may not be the most outwardly affectionate, the amount of time and effort he invests in you is enough to tell you how much he cares

He is a very busy man you know, running missions and odd errands for the queen

His free time is extremely precious for him 

So the mere fact that he is spending it with you is a lot more monumental than most people would assume

But you are smart enough to realise this

And that is one of the reasons I did not pair you with Sebastian. 

Sebastian is a lot more how shall we put it... salacious. His flirting is subtle in public but that bastard would do anything to make his lover blush, testing the limits of society and still managing to get by without being caught... somehow. It’s his way of exercising control and I think that would really clash with your love language. 

~

So,

Charles Grey is also a rather chipper fellow. 

Like "chipper" may be an understatement 

Excitable puppy man is more like it, at least when it comes to fencing... or maiming... the dude has weird hobbies

But he really understands your desire to travel. He is full of jittery energy that he uses releases running errands for the Queen, travelling across all of the UK. And really most of Europe running diplomacy missions and handling sensitive cases

He would probably be hesitant to allow you to accompany him

But you'd wear him down eventually 

Grey really understands your wanderlust, he has a hard time focusing on monotonous tasks or locations as well

So he may allow you to join him

With one *small* caveat 

You have to defeat him in a fencing duel first 

Which is absolute shit. But you understand where he is coming from.

That ego of his leads him to consider himself the best swordsman in Europe, if not the world

He figures that if you manage to strike him down then you could handle yourself with anyone 

And that is no small task

It seems entirely daunting and near impossible (which is probably another reason he assigned it)

And that brings me to my next point. 

Charles Grey needs some who is open minded and chill enough to out up with his shit

But also stubborn and outspoken enough to shut him down when he tries some spectacularly stupid

Which is why you would work well with him. Not only does your nonchalance perfectly foil his constant energy and inquisitive nature, but you also have set your boundaries and know when to shut down schemes and ideas

So yeah

You begin training extra hard

For maybe like a day

Then you give up

It's hard, everything hurts, you are exhausted, and all you MIGHT get out of it is one lousy trip

So you begin putting training sessions off

"I'm not feeling well."

"I'll start once I finish this book"

"Oooh, it's too late now"

To say that Grey would be discouraged and slightly hurt is an understatement 

His passion and life blood is fencing. He has worked really hard to get to this point and the fact that his significant other takes no interest in it wounds him

This could definitely be a point of discourse if your relationship 

But you have to remain open with each other and talk it out

That is the most important thing. Communication. And let's be honest. Charles isn't not going to say shit 

He is "too manly" or too egotistical to admit his feelings

You'd have to be the one to approach him on the matter

But I feel like you would. You are used to hearing problems from your friends. You know when something is wrong and better yet, you listen 

After a talk, he understands that it may not be the fencing specifically you are disinterested in

But you just struggle to maintain motivation 

And from that moment on, Charles Grey becomes your personal cheerleader 

He's the mom at a soccer game freaking s c r e e c h i n g and going "that's my girl!" whenever you win a match

He takes pride in all he does, and he is proud of his protégé

He never allows you to lose motivation and is (annoyingly) insistent about the fencing 

Which again, could lead to some arguments if you resist

But he is doing it from a place of love because he can see how miserable you are cooped up in the same place

He knows you

And finally, the day arrives that you set to duel Charles Grey himself. If you win, you get to attend some of his missions with him (others are too sensitive to risk being seen by a civilian)

You are understandably nervous, but also introspective. Honestly it is probably a tidal wave of emotions far too complex to convey with words

But ill try 

Let me just....

This morning was like most mornings.

A heavy fog blanketed the docile countryside, most animals just began to shake off the effects of the previous night's slumber. 

Commoners rose with the peeking rays of the sun, beginning to perform their routine tasks before the last of the fog had been burned away by the heat. For most people this day was completely, utterly, ordinary.

But not for you. 

This day meant everything. This day meant your freedom. 

You had risen before even the sun, shedding your skirts in exchange for ivory fencing gear, exchanging your fan for a rapier and your hats for a meshed mask. This had been your life for the past year, and would continue to be so until your final breath.

But today. Today was different. 

Today determined your future. And quite frankly, your sanity. 

And all you had to do was defeat your lover in close quarters combat. A monumental task in-of itself. Half of your acquaintances thought you mad, the other half patronized you, treating your struggle as a desperate cry for attention. They simply couldn't understand why a lady would go through such trouble as to challenge the country’s greatest swordsman. A woman's place was in the house, and in home is where she is complete. Why would she bother her pretty little head and sully herself in the wretched world around her? That was a man's job, such trifling affairs should be of no concern for a lady.

"She is odd, that one." They would say. But they didn't understand, how could they? 

Raised under the constrictive hand of the patriarchy, they were forced into complacency. A complacency so culturally ingrained that they themselves never sought to question it. Or, those that did often keeled to the whims of man's iron fist in fear of social ostracism and reputational backlash. 

But you were different. 

From childhood you felt the pangs, the longing to not only see but experience both the beauty and sorrow of the world around you. To learn and ingrain yourself with the cultures, to explore every nook and cranny of your planet. You could never understand why those around you seemed so content with living and dying inconsequentially, never experiencing the midnight sun or the sweeping winds of the steppe. Dying without ever truly living. Merely existing in their self-made reality, completely ignorant to the bright, beautiful world around them.

Why stay put when you can travel?

Why exist when you can live?

These questions, along with the persistent voice of your instructor (and fiancé), kept you focused and motivated. All of that training, all of those hours of arduous, grueling work had lead to this moment.

You stood within the fencing hall, the lack of bodies usually present caused the room to echo with each clicking foot fall on the tile floor. It was wide, empty, and entirely unwelcoming. It felt like a stranger to you, despite the year of training you had completed within its walls. 

Before you stood a similarly dressed figure, its face obscured by the dark meshing that covered the helmet. 

It was entirely impersonal.

A faceless enemy in a sea of a faceless crowd. 

But you knew better. His posture was all too familiar to you. The slight tilt of his head, the pitch of his shoulders, the strangely comforting steady hand in which he held his weapon. This was your lover, Charles Grey. And your opponent. 

It was definitely surreal. He rarely ever wore his mask in training. The absence of his characteristic gloating smile and talkative nature felt almost lacking. It was rare that he would be so quiet... so solemn. But he was just as aware of your current situation as you were. And how much it meant to you. 

Without a word, he raised his weapon and the battle commenced. 

It was an intense battle

With every blow he performed, your parried and dodged

With a feline grace, you danced up-top light heels, twirling and spinning in an almost melodic fashion 

Metal clashed against metal, each crack ringing through your ears

You had trained enough with him to know that he had a tendency to leave his left side unguarded and exposed

But he also trained with you to know that you can forget to guard your knees

And as the minutes tick by, marking one of the longest conflicts you had ever had with him, exhaustion sets into your bones 

And you falter

The blow is lightning fast, you hardly have a chance to comprehend his movements 

But his hips are besides yours, his knee hooked behind your leg. 

He pushed you backwards with his forearm, causing you to fall backwards, only to trip on his knee and slam against the ground

Something cool and metallic is pressed to the back your neck

You don't need to look to know it is the rapier and that you have lost

The sound of you two's laboured breaths echoes through the empty chambers

Several seconds tick by as the two of you gather your thoughts 

...You... lost

You finally turn yourself around, noticing that Charles had removed his fencing helmet

Damp silver hair sticks to his forehead, matted and plastered across his face

For a moment, a look of sorrow flickered across his handsome features, only to be replaced by that typical cheeky grin

"You lost, luv. Better luck next time, eh?"

You never really had much of a plan

But seeing that smug expression kicked your instincts into overdrive

With one fluid scissor sweep, you dislodged his balancing, a well-placed kick aiming where the sun don't shine toppled him over entirely 

And then he was on the floor next to you, his face contorted in an express of pain 

You were quick to discard his weapon and straddle him, keeping his wrists pinned above his head to the floor

"Lesson one: never trust your opponent"

You parroted this line to him, one he had told you many of times

He only managed a pained grunt in response

Chuckling, you apologized with a chaste kiss which he all too eagerly accepted 

He was probably just being theatrical to get more kisses

You did not have much time to ponder the situation before a polite round of applause erupted from a nearby alcove

You nearly jumped out of your skin

You did not notice the shawled figure, cloaked in all black, like a walking shadow 

The figure took a few steps forward, emerging to the light 

And that is when you realized who it was

Queen Victoria herself

By her side, astute as always was the man you practically considered a brother 

Charles Phipps

By now, you were extremely aware of the suggestive position you were in

Straddling Charles Grey, your hips against his, his wrists clasped tightly in your hands and pinned above his head

And oh, gods that insufferable smirk with which he was regarding 

"As you can see, your majesty, my darling is highly... proficient." Grey practically hummed

You quickly scrambled to your feet, unsure how to handle yourself in the presence of a queen

Turns out, Grey had invited her to witness your duel in hopes of securing you a position under her employ. Either as an emissary or housekeeper. 

According to Phipps, She was quite impressed by your performance, even though you lost

The only other person she had seen to be able to keep pace with Grey was Phipps... and a certain blonde who shall not be named

And that is the story of how you became the head maid for the Queen herself and an emissary on par with Grey himself, running missions as a husband-wife warrior squad, haha

~

You two probably met in an odd way

I’d say for a fact that you were attracted to Sphere music hall

It’s like that place was made for you

Semi-modern concert style music hall which people hailing from all backgrounds and classes intermingled together in harmony

Divinations and readings were done for free and in return, each patron was given a bracelet depicting their star sign. 

As a matter of fact, a lot had to do with the star signs. 

Meditations were conducted in between hours and food served

It was a really great place to go, somewhere you fit it because you had always been an outcast

Forced to keep your craft a secret in fear of retribution from the church, you usually made coin as a street performer and singer

It was not a lot, but it was certainly enough to keep you off the streets

Unfortunately that also meant you were constricted to the same place

Your family had consistently tried to marry you off to some rich white dude

Well, rich(er)

But you did not want to be wife and then a stay at home mother

That was somehow worse than your current situation

Also your opinionated and confident demeanour often scared off potential suitors

It was a serious problem because apparently women were supposed to be soft spoken and weak. 

But you on other other hand, never showed weakness

It was far too “masuline” apparently

So you decided to strike out on your own and try to make it as a singer

Easier said than done

In the music hall, you truly felt free to express yourself

Its charismatic leader put major emphasis on the stars and night sky, he was extremely introspective and the two of you instantly hit it off (I considered matching you with Blavat instead of Grey but I kinda feel like you two would work better as friends)

You were completely enthralled with his demeanour and exuberance

And you consistently attended the hall as it was the only place you felt you truly belonged, no one casting judgmental stares, no whispers behind your back, and most of all, you felt a sense of camaraderie that you have never felt before

And as a result, you fell victim to the cult

Initially, the Queen garnered concerns over the existence of this Music Hall and the traction it was gaining. As a result, she sent out her very own Charles and Phipps to scope out the place before sending word to Ciel Phantomhive

Infiltrating undercover as guests, the Queen’s handy butlers began an inspection of the area

There they ran into you

Literally

You were in the middle of entertaining a small portion of attendees with a song at the behest of Blavat himself (he was actually looking to hire you as a backup singer for the Starlight Four but you were not aware of this)

You were reaching the crescendo of your song when a drunken man slammed into you

You uttered an apology but he seemed rather intent on making himself a nuisance

“Watc’ yaaaa, yaaa stoopid *hic* bitccccc”

You took a few steps back in response as he staggered forward, raising a palm as if to strike you

Before you could react, a flash of white covered your vision

A man stood before you, sword drawn and dawned in a blindingly white coat

Silver tresses rolled down his back, as he glared up at your attacker from behind attractively long lashes

How he managed to sneak a rapier into the party was completely beyond you, yet here he was

“Now, didn’t your mama teach you manners?” He cooed, a slightly maniacal smile across his lips

“Yoooou wanna go?” The man sneered, “I can tak *hic* you pwetty boooy”

Of course, this scene began to attract attention

The murmurings and pleasant violin music had all but stopped as thousands of eyes turned to face you

Blavat had to step in, nervously defusing the situation

He had the drunkard escorted out and moved to confiscate the weapon from the white-clad man only to get the think pointed at his throat

“A man’s worth is in his sword. It would be cruel to take that away from him.”

You were entirely unsure if he was being literal or making a dirty innuendo with that statement

Regardless of his intentions, he was promptly thrown out as well

Much to the chagrin of a separate, similarly dressed man who seemed down right exasperated with his partner’s trigger happy (blade happy?) tendencies. 

You decided to follow this peculiar stranger out and thank him for what he did

You found him trying to crawl through a window, seeking re-entry into the part.

“Uh, excuse me...” You called to him as he fiddled with the lock on the window. You had no idea how he managed to climb up that high in such a short amount of time, but he had perched himself rather precariously on the window sill.

“Not right now, luv.” He called back, “I am busy.”

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there. I could have been hurt.”

He paused, not once looking back at you. “Right. Who are you?”

You were rather taken aback

He literally just saved you, how could he not remember you?

“Look, if you aren’t going to pay me the mind to even look at me, I won’t take the effort to thank you.” You huffed and turned to walk away

“I wouldn’t go back there if I were you.”

His voice caused you to halt in your tracks. You spun around to stare at him incredulously. “Excuse you?”

God, those silver eyes were breathtaking as he gazed at you, practically oozing with a feline grace

“Those people aren’t good people.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone

“Oh? And what do you know about them?” You retorted defensively

“More than you, obviously.” He finally managed to pry the window open. “Her majesty has good instincts. She knows this place is dangerous, else-wise she wouldn’t have sent me.”

And with that weirdly convoluted and vague sentence, he slipped back inside and disappeared

You were left to ponder the meaning of his words

Her majesty?

This bloak knew the bloody Queen?!?!

What else did he know?

What could possibly be so bad about the hall?

You decided to call it quits early that night to process. You never thought you would ever see him again, or so you thought

~

You had been doing your research, sticking your nose in places you probably should not have

Blavat, someone you once considered a close and trusted friend almost seemed menacing to you

And he definitely picked up on your closed off body language

But you knew that something fishy was going on during those “private” events. Only specific people were ever invited (AKA not you)

It all just seemed really sus

And you were determined to find out

So you snuck in

Having spent many hours in the hall, you were aware of certain passages and entrances that others were not

And you were able to sneak in without much issue

But you weren’t able to see much

A heavy smoke filled the air, smelling pleasantly of posies and roses

Your eyes began to droop and heaviness set into your lids

And you fell asleep

You woke up, with the concerned and slightly perturbed face of Blavat staring down at you

Well, shit... busted

“We had a nice thing going, y/n. And you just had to ruin it.” Blavat stated callously. “You know those events are private.”

And with that, you were barred from entering the music hall... permanently

This was definitely rather devastating as it was the only place you could truly be yourself without fear of rejection of prosecution

But now you were more sure than ever that something was amiss in that hall

Why else would they be so strict?

You were probably only left alive because they knew that whatever gas they used to put out those in attendance also affected you before you could see anything incriminating

And so you began trying to locate that mysterious man in white 

He seemed to have more answers than you did

It did not take long to figure out his name and occupation. Charles Grey. Butler to the Queen herself

He must have been quite the impressive butler to be going out on scouting missions for the Queen and not just serving tea

Regardless, gaining an audience with him was nearly impossible 

So you would just have to attract his attention...

Somehow

Given his affinity towards sword fights, you were sure that a loud brawl outside the palace itself would almost certain garner his attention

The real question was, where in the world would you get people foolish enough to pull such a stunt and risk getting arrested

Sooo, maybe not that

You might have to work backwards

Ask around and find those that may be acquaintances with him

Which was a lot harder than it looked

It took days of searching, but you were eventually sent to speak with a mortician who according to your contact “knows everyone who is no one”... whatever that meant

It did not take too long to find out

This mortician was... eccentric to put it in the most polite of terms 

But he was definitely connected with Britain's underbelly 

Which you assumed is where the “everyone who is no one” comes from

You came in hoping to pay him off, to which he blatantly refused, instead asking for you to make him laugh

Which was an odd request but one which you were willing to comply if it meant breaking the case

You spent hours trying different tactics to no avail

Until you sang a very dirty and very perverted song (Most likely “God’s Loophoel”. Yeah, actually don’t look that up, it is exactly as it sounds)

He seemed to enjoy that far too much as his cackles were absolutely thunderous

In tears, he kindly revealed to you that he was familiar with this Charles Grey and could pull a few favours to get you in contact

But he never said when, nor did he ever say where

But he did ensure word of your snooping reached the ears of Charles Grey who surprised you in your own home whilst you were halfway dressed

He initially was very cross with you poking around, scolding you and chastising you saying that it was “no business for a lady”

But you shut him down pretty quick

And afterwards, the two of you hit it off and decided to make evening tea on Sundays a staple thing

Grey would inform you about the progress of the Sphere Music hall and in return, you would keep well away from it

It worked out for the two of you

But word of your sniffing around had also reached the ears of one certain earl and his own demonic butler

I would be careful about what questions you ask and where you poke your nose

We wouldn’t want it to get bitten off, now would we?

this was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it, dear. Let me know what you thought

[bigbadwolf-16]

anyway heres the thing for wolf and i am SO sorry if the readmore doesnt work oof this bitch long

slightly modified it

Name:

Wolf-16

Age:

Mentally twelve, but roughly Dark Age old.

Race:

Exo

Call signs/alias:

Wolf. One syllable, easy.

Pronouns:

He / Him

Class:

Hunter

Preferred subclass(es):

Gunslinger, but he’s handy with Void and Stasis. Never got the hang of Arc.

Ghost's name:

Serenity, but she reluctantly answers to Red sometimes.

Their Vanguard:

He came late to the party and properly joined the Guardian ranks sometime after Tallulah died, but he was closest to Cayde-6, rip.

Fireteam name:

Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo (former) Maelstrom (former) Exodus (current)

Fireteam teammates:

In Foxtrot: Liz Cabrera, King-3, Armani-7 In Maelstrom: Amelia-9, Atticus Maav In Exodus: Puck-13, Aera-9, Emmanuel-7

Favorite legendary weapon:

Dire Promise IKELOS SMG Seventh Seraph SAW

Favorite exotic weapon:

Ace of Spades Riskrunner The Lament

Favorite exotic armor:

Sealed Ahamkara Grasps The Sixth Coyote St0mp-335

Are they offense, defense, or support:

Generally offense, he’s blindingly fast and is a crackshot with any weapon you put in his hands.

Do they prefer being close, mid, or long range:

He prefers mid to long, but ends up getting in close more often than he’d like. The agility kind of nerfs his ability to take a lot of damage all at once, so he goes airborne the second he gets surrounded.

Do they lean more "Element of Surprise" or "Upfront and Aggressive":

A bit of both! He’ll pull a surprise attack and jump in to get his hands dirty if he has to, which makes him a pretty good distraction if there’s a lot of enemies looking for a bullet sponge, but he prefers a little bit of distance if he can get it.

Strikes, Gambit, or Crucible:

Getting him into strikes takes a lot of perseverance, honestly. He’ll do them if Zavala can actually hold him down long enough. Hunters are elusive as hell anymore, and the amount of times he’s been back to the Tower or even within the City’s walls since the Red War can be counted on one hand.

Crucible is also kind of a gamble. Serenity doesn’t like him doing it because he gets ruthlessly competitive and tends to favor Stasis which gets... ahhh, intense...

He fucks super hard with Gambit, tho. If he’s anywhere near the City, he’s probably playing Gambit because the Drifter won’t give him the good stuff until he does.

Who was their mentor:

If anyone was, it was probably Serenity and only insofar as teaching him how to be fucking normal. It hasn’t worked very well.

Who are they mentoring:

He went through a brief stint where he mentored Atticus. He couldn’t teach him any Warlock things, of course, but other stuff like no-scoping an Acolyte or picking locks? Absolutely.

What ship do they have:

After Forsaken, all of Cayde’s stuff was pretty much left alone, but Wolf asked the Vanguard if he could take the Queen of Hearts and they let him.

What is their Sparrow:

Blood in the Water

Favorite Ghost shell:

Serenity picks her own shells. When they met, she pretty much had the Rust Punk shell after the one she was created with got messed up pretty badly. The new one didn’t stand up very well against the elements.

Wolf keeps a handful of them in the ship so that she can go between them and her favorites are Wisteria Orbit and In Fine Omnium, but she goes back to her old one occasionally if she doesn’t want to get the others dirty.

Favorite color:

Red, but sometimes purple.

Favorite food:

Any kind of spicy ramen and shawarma.

Least favorite food:

He doesn’t like anything with a bitter taste and there are a lot of veggie-based things he just genuinely cannot stand the thought of.

Favorite Pre-Collapse music:

He discovered classic rock and hasn’t looked back once.

Favorite place in The Last City:

Before the Red War when he spent more time in the city itself, his apartment. It was small and pretty cozy and also loaded with his hauls from various jobs. He’d sit in the window and play video games on his off days and just chill with Serenity for hours.

There was also a bar he’d frequent with his old fireteam (and sneakretly sometimes with Cayde) where they pretty much knew everyone who worked there by name. It’s the one place he never got kicked out of for causing a ruckus.

Favorite NPC(s):

Cayde and Wolf hung out a lot when either one of them had the time. These days, if he’s anywhere near the Tower, it’s only to see Amanda or Banshee.

He also likes to kick it with Devrim, Variks, and Failsafe. Osiris finds him frustrating at best, but he and Crow are kind of a package deal at this point.

Least favorite NPC(s):

He finds Rahool kind of dry and nerdy and has nothing but bad things to say about Hideo.

Favorite patrol location:

The EDZ. It’s more or less his home now and he knows every square inch of it by heart.

Least favorite patrol location:

Anywhere on Europa or the Moon. Europa he’ll at least go to without being dragged, if only just to say hi to Variks or Elsie and check up on how things are going, but after the Lunar Incident he won’t step foot on the Moon unless Eris requests him specifically.

5 things your Guardian likes:

Glimmer, babeyyyy!! Also food, bad jokes, going real fast, and springtime.

5 things your Guardian dislikes(this can be anything):

Handling trauma in a healthy way like normal person, having to be responsible for people, being told what to do, big open spaces, and waiting.

Your Guardian has to rest. What is their living space like:

Wolf can and will sleep just about anywhere and in pretty much any position. His old apartment in the City was destroyed during the war, and he just never went back, so now he knocks out in whatever place has enough cover or is out of the way enough he won’t be found.

Does your Guardian have any casual wear?:

Lots. He usually goes for a more urban style, so lots of huge hoodies, joggers, chunky sneakers, snapbacks, that kind of thing. He generally only wears armor when he’s actively working.

What hobbies and/or skills does you Guardian have:

Outside of Guardian stuff, he’s picked up a handful of skills over the years. He can rap and sing and figured out how to autotune his voice/mimic others, he’s pretty good at woodcarving and making little things out of scrap metal, and even if his designs are intentionally tacky he’s good at custom paint jobs for jumpships and Sparrows.

As for hobbies, that mostly consists of exploring. He’s got a lot of patrol areas memorized, and does a lot of urbex in places that aren’t very thoroughly mapped because he likes finding pre-Collapse artifacts and seeing places not very many others have. Mostly for selling.

He also does a lot of gambling, but whether or not he’s any good at it is arguable.

What would your Guardian's lore book be called:

Sixteen Wolves

Where was your Guardian reborn?:

Somewhere in the humid and shitty swamp that used to be Houston, Texas. It was tough going for a while, but they eventually traveled all the way to what would eventually be the City.

What were they wearing when they were reborn:

Rapidly disintegrating work gear from, presumably, some kind of security job.

What was their reaction to being reborn:

Confusion and alarm, but he warmed up to Serenity pretty quickly, so it wasn’t too bad after the initial shock.

What was their reaction to their first rez:

Very surprised until Serenity explained what had just happened. After that, all bets were off.

After being reborn, did they meet friendlies first or hostiles:

Like many, the first sentient form of life he met was hostile, but it wasn’t aliens. His first run-in with other people was a group of survivors who had a lot of mistrust regarding the Risen and he didn’t want to fight them, so he took off.

Who was the first other Guardian they met?:

He definitely doesn’t remember, but it probably wasn’t a pleasant encounter.

Did your Guardian get reborn with, or find, any indication of their past life? If so what do they have/found:

Exos get the luxury of at least knowing their name, but Wolf found his etched into a corner of his chest plate in cool letters. He didn’t remember anything from his past life beyond random glimpses if he dug hard enough, and nowadays those glimpses are pretty rare and extremely vague. There’s never any memory fragment that’s enough to really grab onto, so he tends not to bother with it.

How did your Guardian get their name(if they didn't rez with past life mementos):

Exo thing! He doesn’t remember if it was just some kind of moniker or part of his actual original human name, but Wolf sounds cool so he’s not worried about it.

Going back to your Guardian's lore book, what would be some quotes or passages from their book:

The Hunter dove for the ball and caught it, whipped it back across to his companion with a well-practiced flick of his wrist and tumbled. The Warlock caught it a bit more gracefully and without getting dirt on his clothes.

“Do you ever think about home?”

“What do you mean?”

The Warlock shrugged, tossing the ball back and forth between his palms. “Home. You know. Where you’re from. Your people, I mean. I think about the Dreaming City a lot. I don’t remember how it used to be, but... I like to think maybe I had family there once. Someone to miss me when I was gone. Dreadful to think of how it’s been destroyed...”

“Hm.” Wolf considered the question, then it was his turn to shrug. “Dunno. Guess we don’t really have one.”

“You must have something, Wolf. Exos had to come from somewhere. Everyone has a home.”

“Y’all might have a home. All we got’s a graveyard.”

Does your Guardian have a significant other:

He’s had a handful over the years. He’s still friends with Liz, not that anyone can tell because all they do is fuck with each other and cause trouble when they’re together. He and Amelia were a thing briefly but that one had to be called off to preserve their friendship because, even though they’ve known each other for decades and get along surprisingly well, they are very, very different people.

The last one was Cayde, and that didn’t end well for anyone. Cringe culture is dead, don’t @ me.

Did your Guardian go explore first before going to The Last City? If so, where to:

That was kinda the name of the game back then. The City was just a dinky little encampment and Wolf was on a completely different continent, so by the time he actually got there it was a dinky little town with not much to explore. He ended up breezing through a few times before anyone even really realized he was a Risen. The section of the wall he helped build is actually still there.

What was their reaction to first seeing The Last City:

A little bit surprised, honestly. He already knew there were a lot of little camps and small towns scattered around, but he hadn’t expected to find any that were that organized and so full of lightbearers and mortals, just working side by side.

Is your Guardian a part of a clan:

Yes! He’s part of the Exodus Family.

Does your Guardian's clan have a back story? If so, what is it?(if you want to or able to share):

Not much that I’m personally aware of, just cus my friends and I haven’t talked about it at length, but basically everyone is an Exo and having a fairytale/biblical theme is pretty common. Like. Puck is an obvious one. Wolf and Serenity are a little bit Little Red Riding Hood themed, only insomuch as Serenity having an affinity for red shells and Wolf thinking he’s all big and bad and tough.

(He’s not, he’s a baby.)

If your Guardian would have a quote as a flavor text for a weapon and/or piece of armor, what would they be:

I have a couple of these actually, all inspired by some really good quotes I’ve seen.

Wolf Moon’s Chase (Exotic) “Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.” A hand cannon with a wolf head grip and the Howlin’ Wolves perk; Successive precision kills gradually reload the clip and boost Super energy regen even if stowed. Missed shots have a chance to track enemies and explode.

Last Man Standing (Exotic) ”I was always taught that if you shoot for the Moon and miss, the vacuum of space will suck out your eyeballs. Failure is not an option. Go kill ‘em.” Chest armor with the Knock ‘Em Dead perk: Low health massively boosts damage, resilience, and mobility for a short amount of time.

Bad Blood (Legendary) ”The strength of the pack is the Wolf. The strength of the Wolf is the pack.” A Hunter’s cloak with the Vermilion Stripe down one side and a moon shattered into three pieces on the back.

If your Guardian has had any interactions with any civilians, Eliksni, Cabal, Vex, Hive, Taken, Scorn, Rogue Lightbearers, or Iron Lords/War Lords tell us about it!:

Wolf’s been around a while and he’s seen a lot of things, so let’s dig into this one.

He’s not as well known in the City except by name unless he’s wearing his wolf mask, but he drops in at the Farm pretty often and he’s on good terms with everyone there. He does a lot of supply runs for them and will stick around if they’re shorthanded to help with upkeep or defense if there’s a lot of hostile activity in the area. In general, he doesn’t interact a whole lot with mortals unless they’ve been out on the front lines like Devrim or Suraya. There’s way too much cultural and social disconnect there and he doesn’t have the patience or really even the language to try and explain to them that he, even as a Guardian and Old Light, is just as human as they are and while he may be immortal and have crazy cosmic superpowers given to him by a mysterious and sentient white spheroid, dying hurts and the trauma every Guardian walks around with just is not worth it.

Where Eliksni are concerned, he tends not to initiate fights with them. If they shoot first, all bets are off, but for the most part he has a lot of respect for what they’ve been through and can relate to feeling lost and completely adrift with no identity. He helps rebels on Europa either fight back against Salvation or escape to Earth to join the House of Light. He’s made a lot of friends that way.

Cabal he has a lot of respect for as well, for similar reasons. They lost their home to the Hive and are trying to survive in the best way they know how, even if he doesn’t agree with their politics. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen with Caiatl, but he’s trying to maintain hope that her empire and humanity will eventually reach an understanding. They’d be unstoppable as allies.

He doesn’t fuck with the Vex. Even before things came to light on Europa, even being near them made his brain itch and one of his biggest fears is being infected with some kind of Vex virus that’ll turn him into one of them and spread to other Exos or Ghosts, almost to the point he’d prefer to avoid them altogether.

He is terrified of the Hive. I’ve mentioned the Lunar Incident before, and the trauma of it caused such an intense meltdown that it forced a reset. Unless Eris Morn specifically asks him personally to go to the Moon for any reason, he doesn’t go anywhere near it. He can deal with them in other places like the Reef or on Earth, but the combination of Moon + Hive just scares him to death.

Taken and Scorn both are kind of a wobbly thing for him. He feels bad for what happened to them, but knowing that it can’t be reversed and that just killing them is a mercy makes it easier to deal with them. With Taken and anything relating to them, the spatial distortion they cause kind of overwhelms his processes if he’s dealing with it for too long and can make him feel a little sick, but that usually subsides once he’s gotten some distance. (Scorn are just... Oof. On the one hand, he kind of feels like they’re not too dissimilar to lightbearers just in that they were brought back from the dead and now won’t stay dead, but he always wonders if they’re suffering or if they even know where they are or what they’re doing. It’s just incredibly sad to see them like that, and the same goes for the Wrathborn.)

Rogue lightbearers? He kind of is one. He didn’t join the Vanguard until long after the City was established and before that he was just kind of doing his own thing being a thieving little shithead. It was Amelia who encouraged him to do it, and he’s shaped up a lot since then and become a lot more sympathetic toward other people. He still has that wild edge and always plays it fast and loose with the rules, more so than even most other Hunters, so he’s always butting heads with Zavala about that. In general, he doesn’t think much of them unless they’ve genuinely gone bad and are actively out there hunting and hurting other people.

Warlords/Iron Lords, uhhh. He was friends with a Warlord back in their day, but he didn’t pay them much mind outside of that. As far as he was concerned, if they stayed out of his way and he stayed out of theirs, everything was fine because other people’s problems weren’t his problem and he had no intention of getting tangled up with all that shit when he had a free pass to do all the petty crimes he wanted. He’s always thought the Iron Lords were stuffy and holier-than-thou, but he does kind of respect what they did back then and he might rip on Lord Saladin, but he understands his perspective on things. That kind of survival instinct and total victory or death philosophy, like... ya know. Wolf grew up in different times, too, and back then it was genuinely kill or be killed and you couldn’t trust anyone not to stab you in the back over scraps. He gets it. He may not always agree, but he gets it.

Does your Guardian have any unconventional allies or connections(By Vanguard standards):

Definitely. It didn’t start with Crow and Spider of course, but they’re a pretty good example. As a Hunter, he is connected. He knows a guy for everything you can think of and most of that knowledge is very under the table kind of shit. If the gains are good, he’ll partner up with just about anyone and his only hard limit is probably wholesale murder and not necessarily even because he isn’t comfortable with it. It’s a lot of mess, and a lot of potential to get his ass into really deep trouble he’d rather avoid.

He’s got a lot of Eliksni and Cabal buddies out in the system, most of whom he met in some makeshift prison or while trapped somewhere. More than once it’s been a situation of kidnapping where he just accidentally became friends with his captors.

One of his best friends for years was an Eliksni vandal out on the Tangled Shore, so he has absolutely no issue with having unconventional allies.

(Plus, like. With the system in total fucking chaos, you’re gonna need all the friends you can get. He’s dumb but he’s not stupid.)

How does your Guardian feel about themselves or others using Stasis:

Wolf has mixed feelings about Stasis. With Exos being pretty much literally born of Darkness, he has a natural affinity for it but being such a sensitive dude makes it very easy for the Darkness to manipulate him through. Any time he uses Stasis, he gets weird and a little bloodthirsty, so he tries to only use it when nothing else is working. He’s got a lot of willpower, but you can only hold out for so long when someone’s promising you salvation, peace, and power after the sort of life an Old Light has to deal with. Fear and trauma are very easy to appeal to when everything is looking increasingly more bleak all around you.

As far as other people using it, he’s still very “not my circus, not my clowns” about it. The only time he’d take issue is if someone was using it like legitimately trying to RTL someone he cares about.

Did they run The Last Wish raid? How did they react to seeing a live Ahamkara a.k.a Riven:

I’ve only done parts of it myself, but if he has met Riven he definitely almost short-circuited. I think anyone would if they met a supposedly extinct magic space dragon for the first time.

Did they run The Deep Stone Crypt raid? How did they react to the Crypt and seeing Exo Eliskni:

It was harrowing to say the least. Everything on Europa has been a nightmare, just from his own standpoint as an Exo. He goes through phases where he thinks that being one is the greatest thing ever because you’re faster, stronger, and tougher than anyone else, but at the same time, like. Look at what they have to deal with.

And all the secrets that came out as we learned more about Exoscience and Clovis Bray? Yikes, dude. Any time he’s not feeling cheeky or neutral about it, he just feels this weird sense of shame and guilt. Why would anyone want to be an Exo? Why would anyone willingly hand over their peace of mind and their security in their own identity like that? Most Exos don’t know who they were before, some don’t even know who they are now, and all because they got too close to the truth or their fundamentally unsustainable existence backfired again and they had to completely erase everything and start over.

Seeing Atraks was like watching a car crash knowing you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it. All these people seeking that out, wanting to make themselves or their allies into Exos just to be top notch unstoppable war machines when they don’t even slightly understand what it’s really like to live inside a completely foreign body is something he just can’t wrap his head around. He tries not to think about it too hard.

Is your Guardian from D1? How did they react to seeing Taniks alive once again:

He has his own beef with Taniks, but like. If he kept being killed and revived in shittier and shittier conditions, he’d probably be really pissed off too.

Where did they go and what did they do during The Red War:

The Red War kind of spelled the end of him transiently living in the City proper. His apartment was in one of the residential areas that got leveled, and he just never went back once the dust settled.

He did what he could to help, but his main concern was just keeping Serenity safe. He’d never admit it out loud in mixed company but if it came to having to choose between her and a handful of mortals, he’d choose her every time. She’s been the one constant in his life since he was revived and he couldn’t imagine having to try and carry on without her.

It really brought home just how much abuse he could take before his body would quit on him, and he almost didn’t make it through the whole thing. He’s way too reckless now to survive long without his Ghost, but it brought them a whole lot closer together.

For the most part, he teamed up with other Hunters to scout for safe exits and round up survivors, and when the Vanguard left to take care of business he stayed to help keep his lil classmates on task. After that he stayed at the Farm for a while dealing with the whole self-repair and maintenance deal, and he spent a whole lot more time out in the field when it was over.

Here are some characters that are either polarizing or have created a strong enough mass emotion within the community. What opinion does your Guardian hold on each of them >>>

Osiris, First Warlock Vanguard, originally exiled:

Wolf likes Osiris. Anyone who’s reckless, stubborn, uncouth, and a little bit feral is always going to be someone that Wolf likes and wants to be friends with. They get along for the most part, but because focusing doesn’t even make the list of Wolf’s strong points, Osiris can get exasperated with him pretty quickly when they’re going over some kind of batshit strategy and Wolf is over there in his corner texting. Osiris has no idea how he’s survived this long and has definitely said as much to his face. Wolf isn’t so sure either.

Eris Morn, Bane of the Swarm:

He’s a bit intimidated by her. She was kind of the catalyst for one of the most traumatizing events of his life, so being around her now still makes him feel a little bit weird and very nervous. Despite that, he still respects and trusts her immensely and will always come if she needs him.

They’ve taken time since All That Mess to talk to each other and she’s incredibly remorseful over what happened, but Wolf doesn’t blame her for any of it.

She has a very unique perspective on the Darkness and the Hive what all of this shit means, and he generally will trust her word over someone else’s when the topic comes up. She’s got a lot of wisdom in that crazy head of hers and they have a bit of a shared experience when it comes to being trapped in a Hive nest.

Cayde-6, Sixth Hunter Vanguard:

Lemme roll out the simp wagon for this one, ahem.

Wolf adored Cayde. Before The Dare, he joined in on Cayde’s little crew every so often for jobs and over time they got to know each other about as well as anyone can know Cayde or Wolf, and Wolf ended up falling for him pretty hard between all the snarky banter and watching him in action. They did some casual messing around and I’m sure anyone with eyes could see how bad he had it, but he never got the gumption to really confess and never tried to actually pursue anything beyond casual fun.

Cayde’s death absolutely destroyed his entire world. He’s seen plenty of death and his fair share of RTLs, but none have hit him as hard as that one. He spent a little while just immobilized by grief until it morphed into anger because, honestly, I don’t think any Guardian handles loss very well, and he decided after the memorial service to hunt down Uldren regardless of the cost.

The whole thing caused a bit of a rift between himself and his old fireteam and the Spider got a few good laughs out of calling him ‘Killer’. He doesn’t remember a lot of it now due to his reset around Shadowkeep, but he still gets flashes, and he definitely still blames himself. If he could have gotten there just a few minutes sooner, he knows Cayde and Sundance could have survived.

Ikora Rey, Second Warlock Vanguard:

Mad respect for Ikora Rey, especially when she low key high key supported his revenge mission. She has a unique way of being shady about things that Wolf really likes, and they don’t have much in common but he’s enjoyed working with her any time he’s gotten the chance.

When he has things to report on that he knows Zavala won’t like, Wolf goes to her first since she knows best how to soften the blow, and when he has the forethought to even bother, he runs strategies by her to get input. She’s the best Crucible player in history and he kind of sees her as a Warlock that thinks like a Hunter in a lot of ways. In the absence of Cayde, she’s the Vanguard he answers to the quickest.

Commander Zavala, Second Titan Vanguard:

Wolf and Zavala have a tense relationship. They don’t agree on most things and any time you put them in the same room together it inevitably devolves into some kind of argument about the best course of action to take on anything. Wolf’s story has him kind of lined up to be promoted to Vanguard because of experience and technicalities on the Dare, and while it’s not entirely up to Zavala, he does have a lot of sway as the Vanguard Commander. Wolf could not be less interested in the seat if someone was holding a gun to his Ghost.

He’s intentionally unprofessional as hell any time he has to work with Zavala directly and tends to go out of his way to use very unconventional methods that he know Big Blue won’t approve of, because he’s a child. Being petty is the spice of life, and Wolf is still mad that Zavala forbid him from going after Uldren. That he does remember.

With all of that said though! He does respect Zavala. You wouldn’t know it, but he truly does. The guy has the weight of the entire Sol System on his shoulders and never once has he complained.

Saint-14, legendary Titan, First Titan Vanguard:

Wolf is very fond of Saint and Saint is probably one of the few people left who has a way of getting Wolf to slow down and just take it easy for a while. Before Wolf dipped out for good, he’d sometimes just track the guy down to spend time with him and listen to his various wisdoms.

These days, he still calls him up sometimes to shoot the shit and check in on things and he always asks Saint to tell the pigeons and the Colonel that he said hi.

Lord Saladin, Iron Banner handler, One of the last remaining Iron Lords:

Wolf clowns on Saladin a lot but he does understand his point of view when it comes to survival. I’ve mentioned it before, but Wolf “grew up” in the same time period and gets where the intensity and giving no quarter comes from, because back then it really was a life or death decision with way more immediate consequences. Table politics are kind of lost to him and the turning tide between humanity versus the Eliksni or the Cabal is calling for a more open and foreward-thinking willingness to take that risk in allying with them against a common enemy. Wolf’s a quicker learner though, and spending as much time as he has with both has taught him that, in a lot of ways, they’re just like us. They had their homes taken and destroyed, they’ve lost loved ones in droves, and they’re struggling to hang onto a thread in the only way they know how.

Wolf hopes that Lord Saladin will come around and let go of his dated worldviews, because the old ways aren’t what’s going to win wars anymore. Things are far, far bigger than us versus them now and Wolf has a feeling that humanity is gonna need more resolute leaders like Saladin to survive what’s coming.

Lord Shaxx, Crucible handler, Hero of Twilight Gap, living megaphone:

Don’t leave Shaxx and Wolf alone together unless you want complete and utter chaos to unfold. Any time they get together, they get rowdy, and no piece of furniture is safe from having one of them suplexed or dropkicked into it. Shaxx is kind of like a cool uncle to Wolf and they have been known to test new weapons on each other.

The Crow, New Light, Ex-Enforcer to The Spider:

Whoof. When Wolf first met Crow, he was absolutely gobsmacked. Of all the things running through his head, the biggest question he had was why. He almost shot Crow on sight, but he hesitated for some reason. It took a long time for Wolf to warm up to him and in that time he was uncharacteristically quiet and a little cold. Serenity managed to get him to keep his stupid mouth shut, and he’s glad he listened for once.

I think just spending all that time with him hunting Wrathborn, just being a team and really going through it together, was what brought Wolf closer to him. Learning about what Crow was dealing with in his personal life, everything he was going through just as a consequence of existing. Wolf opened up over time himself and once he worked through that big C6 obstacle, he found himself really endeared to both Crow and Glint.

These days, Wolf would probably consider Crow one of his best friends. He’s taught the kid a lot of old Hunter tricks and they hang out a lot, to Glint and Serenity’s immense relief. Crow is like the little brother he never had.

The Spider, The Shore's Only Law, founder of "House" Spider:

He may or may not have low key threatened Spider before he left the Tangled Shore with Crow. From day one, even as someone who is by default insufferably cheeky, the amount of disrespect. Ooh, bitch.

Spider calling him Killer (especially around Crow) got under his skin so fast, you would not even believe, and it was all Wolf could do not to leap across the room and strangle him to death any time they had to do deals.

As far as Wolf is concerned, if he never sees the Spider again, it’ll be too soon.

Uldren Sov, Prince of the Reef, Master of Crows:

Khhhh, hoo boy. The hate. The Frothing Hatred he had for this little man. Wolf had never in his life wanted someone dead as badly as he wanted Uldren Sov dead.

Being friends with Crow and his 16th reset has softened that a lot, and he’s learned a few things about Uldren that have made other things make a lot more since sense then, but. Yeesh.

Mara Sov, Queen of the Reef, Queen of the Awoken, Ex-Kell of Wolves:

Very mixed. He never dealt with her directly, but Wolf has a natural aversion to any form of leadership just by nature. That she cornered the House of Wolves into subservience doesn’t help, but on the other hand, if she hadn’t been at war with them, things would have turned out a lot different for humanity at Twilight Gap.

Variks, the Loyal, founder of House Judgement:

Speaking of shifty motherfuckers.

Wolf definitely likes Variks and his reset between Shadowkeep and now has conveniently erased the memory of knowing Variks had a hand in Cayde’s death.

He does what he can on Europa to help Variks get Salvation rebels to safety if they just want to get the fuck up out of there and is happy to do knife tricks for him when he asks. Variks has made a lot of questionable decisions, but it’s all been done for what he believes is the good of his people, and Wolf can respect that.

Mithrax, the Forsaken, Kell of Light, founder of House Light:

Hasn’t met him, but he’s heard... a lot. With Mithrax being the Kell of the House of Light, Wolf is hopeful it’ll be a good step in the right direction toward uniting humanity and Eliksni. He’s pretty sure they’re both doomed if they can’t at least fight alongside each other temporarily.

The Exo Stranger/Elizabeth "Elsie" Bray, Granddaughter of Clovis I and Sister to Ana Bray:

Wolf is incurably nosy, so he finds Elsie pretty frustrating. She’s full of secrets and never hangs around long enough to explain what the hell she’s talking about or what her end goal is, but she’s been invaluable on Europa. Once she finally opened up a little bit and started actually telling him important things, he found her a whole lot easier to get along with and it helped to have her around when he was discovering a lot of things on his own about where Exos came from.

Eramis, of House Salvation, Kell of Darkness:

He... gets where she was coming from, in a way. She was angry and desperate and that kind of thing is easy for the Darkness to take advantage of. He can’t rightly blame her for grabbing onto anything she thought might save her people, even though it’s ended in yet more trauma for them.

Eramis isn’t someone he’d go out of his way to try to be friends with if she was ever freed from Stasis, but he would hope she’d more or less see the Light and realize that her methods needed some serious rethinking.

Empress Caiatl of the Cabal Imperial Empire:

Wolf has a lot of respect for Caiatl. She watched her home burn down around her and has used that pain to fuel a cause he thinks is pretty noble. Humanity has been at war with the Cabal for a long time now, and both sides have suffered incredible losses because of it. He thinks that trying to mend that and join forces is a good idea, but for once he’s kind of with Zavala on something: They shouldn’t have to swear fealty or subservience to a foreign empire to have their support against a threat that’s coming for both.

He’s holding out hope that if they show their strength against her greatest warriors, she’ll understand that Guardians and humanity as a whole are more beneficial as equals, not cannon fodder. It only takes one Guardian to decimate an entire Cabal squad, after all.

The Darkness is fast approaching. How is your Guardian handling it:

He’s... handling it. It’s been getting harder in recent years to just not think about things which has been his entire motto since he was first revived. More and more he’s having to confront head-on the things that scare him the most, and there’s only so much running away you can do before you run straight into a corner and have to choose between extinction and fighting until you draw your last breath.

Wolf isn’t a pacifist by any means, but it’s just one of those things where he’s starting to realize his way of living just isn’t sustainable with the system in such chaos. The Hive used to be just another threat he had to deal with every so often, but now they’ve become the Big Bad that are outpacing even the Vex in terms of imminent destruction of several species all at once. His biggest hope right now is that humanity, Eliksni, and Cabal can all set their differences aside, at least long enough to try and put up a defense against the Hive and the Darkness. If they can’t, then... well, they won’t have to worry about it for very long, at least.

And finally, does your Guardian have any advice for any New Lights:

Be good. Be understanding. Tell the people you love that you love them every single chance you get, because you never know what could happen out there. Don’t treat everyone as your enemy, because you may find friends in strange places, and how you treat someone may be the difference between waking up dead and surviving to see morning, but most importantly; Don’t look back. You’re not going that way.

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter One

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

The Rose and Pine

O' Valley of Plenty

Valley of Plenty...

The crowd of the Rose and Pine belted loudly as the Bard's lyrical strumming underscored the lighthearted air of the tavern. Lyrra shook her head and bit back a smile as she set down steins of ale and cups of wine before a few new arrivals. It was the largest crowd she had seen in weeks and she knew that it was in no small part due to the man currently entertaining Glynedol's lower masses and his conspicuously missing travel companion.

Glynedol was no stranger to road-weary travelers. The small town laid on the northern rim of Toussaint and generally acted as a respite for those heading into or out of the city proper. Most had barely batted an eye at the sight of the bard, it was the Witcher he traveled with that was the anomaly. There wasn't much call for his type in wine country. Especially not in the late summer months when the sky was clear and towns bustled with traders for the harvest season. Lately, those travelers and traders had been few and far between despite the late summer harvests Toussaint was undergoing for the last wines of the year. The Rose and Pine should have been raucous and crowded long before the bard and Witcher had arrived.

Biting back a frown, Lyrra flipped her tray from under her arm and gathered empty dishes left on the tables. She didn't have time to ponder the strangeness of late – work beckoned. Quite literally. She sighed quietly as she spied a hand raised for her attention. Turning, she slipped seamlessly between bodies and carried on the same routine she had been conducting for over two years. She took orders, served food and drink, bussed tables, and collected coin while returning flirtatious smiles with a polite quirk of her mouth or an offhand comment to those with whom she was more familiar. The routine settled her and it wasn't long before she managed to drown out the offkey singing or her customers.

It was perhaps because she had made herself selectively deaf that she didn't notice the boisterous choir return to a low roaring murmur. Or it could have been the hand latched tightly to her wrist that had distracted her from the general atmosphere.

"How much?"

Putrid breath made her eyes water as Lyrra took in the greasy man holding her captive. His leer left no vagueness to his question, still, she raised a brow and resisted the urge to yank her arm back, "For what?"

"You."

When his gripped tightened to pull her down onto his lap, she stiffened her legs and leaned back. Her foot rested on the leg of his stool and the sudden pressure downward made his seat wobble. He quickly lost his grip as he fought to keep his seat. To anyone looking it would merely seem as if a drunk too far into his cups lost his balance for a moment.

Lyrra took that moment to step away from his reach and smiled benignly at his scowl, "The brothel is across the road."

She stepped between tables before the letch had a chance to respond, intent on reaching the bar. Hillard was already placing her next order on a new tray.

"Now, that was clever." A dimly amused voice caught her ear.

Lyrra glanced over her shoulder to see the bard watching her with a curious smile. A faint flush painted his cheeks from his earlier performance, but it was the way his blue eyes seemed to twinkle that had her stomach suddenly twisting in knots. Oh no...

Lyrra blinked, "Sorry?"

"Your dismissal of the gentleman back there. Well, if one were to call him a gentleman, bit of a stretch if I may say so." The bard carried on as he leaned his lute against his thigh.

" ' Suppose..." Lyrra murmured quietly as she kept her gaze indifferent. She found her polite smile again as she asked, "Somethin' you need, dove?"

The bard's smile seemed to flicker as he tilted his head confusedly, "Uh ah, yes. A cup of wine when you have a moment."

"Course." She nodded already turning to gather her loaded tray.

"... And perhaps another for yourself. I'd appreciate the company." He smiled hopefully as she turned back to him abruptly, "Just conversation, I assure you."

Lyrra's found her mouth moving, but no sound emitting as she stared awkwardly at him. It wasn't often she was caught by surprise and even less often that she received such a civil offer from a man. He seemed to delight in her floundering as his smile quirked into a grin. It was the grin that kicked her brain back into gear even as she felt a blush crawling up her neck, "I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding companionship tonight. You have a room full of admirers after your performance."

She firmly clenched her drink laden tray and moved to go about him, but the bard had other ideas as he quickly stepped into her path, "And were you one of them?... My admirer, that is?"

She eyed him cautiously as she tried to quell the vivacious butterflies his attention was giving her. He didn't seem dangerous...but still, "Look, sir."

"Jaskier." the Bard blurted with what she supposed was a roguish grin, though it appeared almost nervous, "My name is Jaskier...or dove. I didn't mind when you called me that."

A smile unwilling twitched at the corners of her lips, "Jaskier -"

"And your name?" He cut her off, attempting to look innocent for the crime.

She licked her lip and shook her head amused despite herself, "Lyrra."

"Lyrra." Jaskier uttered softly, his eyes dancing merrily, "Lovely...when you get a break Lyrra, please come sit with me."

She was so very tempted to say yes to him, if only to find out why he was doggedly interested in her, but still, she hesitated, "You've drawn quite a crowd tonight, sir bard. I'll be busy for a while yet. Should I have a spare moment... I may say hello."

"You will." A grin lit his features in triumph, he sounded so certain.

Lyrra sighed exasperated, "I might."

"Oh see, you're playing hard to get, but you can't fool me. You will."

She shouldn't find his smugness as attractive as she did. Lyrra huffed a quiet laugh and passed him a wine goblet from her tray, "I won't if I don't get back to work now."

Jaskier gracefully accepted the cup, his fingers lightly brushing hers as he stepped out of her way, "I'll wait for you with bated breath."

Lyrra merely shook her head at him again as she moved back to her customers. From time to time she could feel his eyes watching her as she worked, but she refused to let herself look back. He was rather attractive, but it was easy to become bewitched by pretty smiles and even prettier words and she was sure he knew them all...bards were supposed to. Still, she wasn't looking for a mere dalliance with a man who could sing about it from here to the Dragon Mountains. Unbidden, she glanced thoughtfully over to Jaskier and found him chatting amiably with a few of the town's folk. Her regulars actually... As if sensing her gaze, he turned in time to catch her eyes. A puckish smirk pulled at his lips at having caught her in observation and she blushed heavily as she quickly returned to work.

She did not flirt well.

Willing the color in her cheeks down, she glided back to the bar to drop off the last of the dishes she had collected. Hillard was waiting for her, an appraising gleam in his chocolate eyes, "You've the minstrel unda' yer spell, Lyrra."

Again, the blush rose to her cheeks, "Stop it."

"He speaks fancy...like you." Hillard smiled slyly as he watched her squirm and glared balefully at him, "Chased the kipper out that was a botherin' ya too."

Lyrra's brow arched incredulously, "Wha..?"

The bartender snorted, "Kept knockin' into and spillin' drinks on the sod till he left in a huff. Was a laugh. For a singa, he's crafty in 'is antics, but I saw 'im."

"Does he have your seal of approval, then?" Lyrra asked somewhat sarcastically as she snuck a glance at the bard from her periphery.

"Ehh, I dunno about tha...He does travel wit a witcha." Hillard replied with a shrug, "He doesn't seem ta bad though."

Lyrra rolled her eyes and handed over the coin she had collected. She was surprised when Hillard took the coin and her tray. He smirked at her before handing her a goblet of wine, "Go on. Go sit wit yer bard."

"Hillard!" Lyrra whispered in a scolding manner, feeling her cheeks burning again. "I still have tables."

Hillard waved her off, "Mirel can do 'em. She's been sittin' on her bum most o' ta night anyway. Go, his cup 'as already been topped off."

It didn't feel right to socialize with a customer when there was work to be done. Hesitantly, she wrapped her fingers around the metal goblet and willed herself to move. Panic momentarily fluttered in her chest at the thought of approaching Jaskier like this...even if he was waiting for her to do so. Instead, she slipped onto a stool not even a foot from the bar to sip at the wine. She'd freely admit she was a coward at that moment, but there was no force on earth that would get her to move. Hillard shook his head at her before taking the dishes back to the washer and she breathed a sigh of relief at having his silent judgment disappear.

"You know," Jaskier drawled lowly behind her, making her tense, "This looks suspiciously like a break, but that can't be right." He moved around to stand before her, a goblet dangling from his hand as his eyes danced with muted amusement, "I'm rather sure we agreed that you'd be sitting, and hopefully conversing with me on your break. So, tell me, lovely Lyrra, are you blatantly standing me up?"

There was a brief silence as Lyrra fought to find her voice again, "I don't recall actually agreeing to anything. I said I might say hello... Hello."

"Oh, come on!" Jaskier goaded lightly as he slid into the stool across from her, "Am I really so horrid that you won't have a simple conversation with me? Do I have horns growing out of my head? Or oh, worse is there a smell I'm emitting?" He cringed to her bemusement as he pulled the collar of his doublet towards his nose, "I knew I shouldn't have trusted that laundress not to put my clothes in the same tub as Geralt's. The stuff he comes cover back in is truly appalling."

An amused smile twitched at her lips as she watched his antics, "You don't smell...or if you do, I can't smell it from here."

Jaskier dropped his collar and tilted his head curiously at her, "Then why won't you sit with me?"

"We're sitting now." Lyrra pointed out, "Besides why do you want my company so badly?"

"The company of a beautiful lady? What kind of man would I be not to want that?" Jaskier murmured charmingly with a soft smile.

It was a very practiced line to Lyrra's ears, however. She smiled ruefully at him, "You know, you can easily find that company - "

"Across the road, at the brothel." Jaskier said with her.

Lyrra blinked and he grinned, "How'd I know you were going to say that? There's more than one way for a man to enjoy a woman's company, you know?"

She shook her head at him, "You're very strange."

"And you're intriguing." He shot back with a sip of his wine, only to sit up in alarm as she moved to stand, "Wha - wait, where are you going?"

Lyrra turned her goblet upside down to show him an empty glass. Her stomach was in butterflies again as his suddenly indecipherable gaze fell heavy on her, "Wine's gone. Which means my break is over. Goodnight, Jaskier."

"You don't play fair, Lyrra." Jaskier intoned sulkily and she bit back a smile as she realized he was pouting.

"I have no reason to play fair." Lyrra murmured back, "No, woman does."

An impish spark lit his azure orbs, "That's true. Can I walk you home? Once you're done that is."

She shook her head in answer and stepped away to find her tray again, his eyes burned into her back as she did so. Almost unwillingly she caught his gaze over her shoulder and sent him an impish smile of her own. Somehow, she didn't think the bard would be giving up on his conversation so easily

Next Chapter

[littlemeowmeowschimmy]

Smile ~ [Jungkook x Reader]

credit: littlemeowmewschimmy

Requests opened // m.list 

Genre: Spoopy(?) // Batman AU // Angst 

WC: 2.2k 

Summary: Walking alone in Gotham is dangerous, walking alone at night, is your worst nightmare

A/n: The reason this isn’t a fully fleshed out idea is that I wanted to give y’all a taste. If anyone wants to read more or wants me to finish this in part two, I will. However, because it is Halloween, I thought it would be cool to write an open-ended Joker Jungkook one shot :) 

»»————-　★　————-««

“Stupid heals,” you mumbled under your breath, hobbling your way back to your apartments. Your fluffy wool coat wrapped around your shoulders as you were trying to keep as much warmth as you possibly could. Walking the streets of Gotham was dangerous during the day, however, at night, they were worse. You didn’t know who would come out, if the police would be there in time, or if you could run away fast enough. 

It certainly didn’t help that you had too much to drink, so your body was already unstable as it was. You moan under your breath, still holding your jacket close to your body. How you ended up like this was because your friend invited you out tonight. It was Halloween eve, and she said you weren’t going to stay inside. Not after last year when you broke up with your boyfriend. 

You hadn’t realized it right away, but it had been a year since that toxic relationship. You were slowly starting to pick your life up where he destroyed it. Yet, there were still habits you had obtained from his toxicity. How you viewed yourself in the mirror and barely left the house was one of them. Your job was an online teacher, so the comfort of your home was always lovely. 

But when he was around, it felt like a cage. Since that cage was gone and you were free, you felt the need to stay comfortable inside. Your friend, bless Jimin’s heart, was just trying to get you out of there. He knew how rough it was for you and wanted you to feel special. Plus, he wanted you to meet some of his friends because he enjoyed them and thought they would be a perfect match. 

You couldn’t believe what he was doing, but then again, Jimin was always spontaneous. You lost him in the crowd during the middle of the night and couldn’t find him. Then, your left heel broke, and you were just over it. So instead of wobbling around the disgusting club, you decided to walk home. Your apartment wasn’t that far, and you knew you would make it back. 

Yet, with one heel on and the other off, it made things more interesting. You were dodding puddles, holes, and other traps that would make you topple over. In doing so, you kept your head somewhat bowed as you wanted to watch where you were heading...and yet that didn’t stop you from worrying about how late it was. 

Most crimes usually happened pass midnight because that’s when everyone was going home. Someone could and would take advantage of a pretty woman walking down the street who looked extremely helpless. It didn’t help that you didn’t have any of the productive gear that your father gave you before moving from your small hometown to Gotham. Yet, you were thankful to your mother, who followed you up on those self-defense classes after the incident of ‘07.

 “Stupid Jimin thinking that it was a good idea to go out tonight,” You grumbled once again, looking up at the street to see if you needed to turn or not. You held your arms closer to your body while you crossed the road. Head still bowed, making sure that you weren’t going to trip over anything. Then it automatically hit you, like physically hit you. 

Your body froze, unaware of what was going on. Your drunk mind was trying to process everything and figure out what your hands and legs should do, but nothing was happening. Instead, you felt an intense arm wrap around your body, the other around your face. Their fingers walking up to your neck and around your throat. 

Cocking your head back and placing a cold metal object against your skin. You assumed it was a knife for how it dug into you, but you couldn’t quite tell. A soft whimper escaped your drunk mouth while your eyes were fixated on the figure in front of you. 

“This isn’t funny, Joker,” a gruff voice came from the man. You scrunched your eyebrows together, unaware of who he was talking about. Then, it all hit you. The fit of giggles that came from behind you chilled your body to the bone. From the corner of your eye, you saw his pale skin and dyed green hair slide right beside you. 

Even though you could only see a part of him, you already knew what his face looked like. It was edged into your memory from the day you told your parents you were moving to Gotham. His oval-like face that was always caked in white clown makeup with those mono-lids that usually had different shapes painted over them. 

His wild eyes always bore into whoever saw his picture, and they stayed in their nightmares. Wild, unkept dyed green hair is usually what stood out to most people when seeing him for the first time. But it was when he laughed or spoke that had everyone frozen in their spots. 

“And what are you going to do about it, Bats?” His venomous words biting back at who you assumed was Batman. All the things that could have happened, who it could have happened to.... it had to be you. The universe was just telling you that tonight wasn’t your night, because now you had more significant problems to face. 

“She has nothing to do with this,” 

“But she’s pretty, isn’t she?” Joker coos flattening the knife against your throat. You felt your heart beat faster in your chest while standing there, trying to figure out what you were going to do. Everyone who had crossed paths with Joker never made it out alive. And even if they did, they were too afraid to speak about the events that occurred. 

“Just like my Harley Quinn,” he hums, tapping the cold metal against your skin. “And yet,” his voice darkens. “My Quinn didn’t want anything else to do with me.” he bites the last part, shifting the hold on his knife to the other hand. 

Quickly, he snatches your chin with his grasp, turning your head so you could face him as he walks in front of you. Those pictures you saw on television, in the newspapers, they were nothing compared to how he looked in front of you. 

You could see the scars littered across his face, his eyes darker than coal. That clown makeup caked onto him so no one could see what his true identity was. No one even knows what his name was other than “Joker.” He was mysterious, and he liked to keep it that way, and now, he had you held under his grip like it was nothing. 

“I wonder if this pretty doll would like to become the next Quinn,” he sings, bringing the knife up to your lips and pressing the tip down on the bottom half. As he does so, he lets out another fit of giggles, then turns his head to face Batman, who was inching himself closer. 

“Atata~” Joker’s sing-song voice came out again. “Any closer Bats, and I’m going to carve a smile on her face.” pausing so he could face you now. “Because a pretty smile always brightens my mood!” Batman breaks where he stood, watching the interaction between you and Joker. He was trying to formulate a plan before everything got messy. 

Batman, more commonly known as Kim Namjoon, was chasing after this lunatic tonight. Joker had escaped Akharm for what seemed like the 100th time. Namjoon never really understood how he kept escaping, but that was beside the point. He had a plan to destroy the city and ultimately kill him in the process. One thing he was trying to stop this evening, but as he was chasing him, you suddenly came into view. 

Namjoon was too late to push you out of the way because the next thing he knew, Joker already had his arms around you. Now, he was trying to get you out of a situation that he created. From Namjoon’s point of view, he knew that you were intoxicated and now frightened out of your damn mind. If you knew any self-defense, Namjoon wanted you to try it. Save yourself and run, but he also knew what alcohol could do to a person. 

Mix it with the fear of Joker and a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in, and Namjoon could understand why you were frozen. Namjoon was going to say another warning, but he was caught off guard when a smoke bomb burst in between you and Joker. That’s when he reacted and jumped forwards, holding his tazer in one hand. 

But was instantly kicked to the side by one of Joker’s henchmen. Then it all made sense to him. Joker was buying time to escape by drawing this scene out. As Namjoon rolls onto his feet, he notices that not only was Joker gone

But you were as well. 

»»————-　★　————-««

Jungkook had better things to concern himself about than having an unconscious woman on his bed. Last night he was getting real close to finally take Bats down, but you suddenly ruined the plan. Now he had to work around keeping you fed and captive, while also making sure Bats doesn’t charge into his hideout. 

Jungkook wipes the makeup from his face, tossing it the wipe to the side. He never showed what was underneath to anyone, not even Harleen. Yes, most believed that his skin was bleached due to the amount of stage makeup he wore, but it was only just to cover his identity. How he started his line of work only by accident. He got into the wrong crowd at the wrong age and went insane. 

Or that’s what his mother would’ve had said, but he buried her six feet underground to shut her up. Jungkook loved who he was, and he liked what he was doing. Nothing would phase him, and the doctors at Arkham were so dull, to begin with. What he did enjoy was electric therapy, flushing his brain out even more. 

It helped keep the demons at bay when solitary confinement was too much. One of the bigger reasons why Jungkook escaped Arkham so many times was simply because he wanted to have fun; he needed to have fun. Not being able to see good old Bats’ face was lonely, and he tried to blow anything and everything up. 

Jungkook glances at himself in the mirror and frowns at the gash that was across his cheek. Batman did get him well last night, maybe this time he cut deep enough to leave another scar. He places a couple of fingers on the somewhat fresh wound, groaning a bit. Jungkook turns around when he hears you stir on his bed. 

He quickly spins around, trying to find a mask to cover his face. But it was too late, your eyes met, and you promptly shuffled yourself back to the head of his bed. You were still in your golden dress, your heels were tossed the minute Jungkook stepped through. At first glance, you didn’t recognize Jungkook. He looked so different from his makeup off, but when you saw his dyed hair, you ultimately realized who it was. 

“What do you want with me?” You start trying to find some kind of confidence. Jungkook stands there, glaring down, his hands in his purple suit pockets. He doesn’t say anything, only turns to walk away from his vanity. 

“It’s not you that I want anything with,” He spits heading over towards his closet to shrug off his tailored jacket. He hangs it, his back facing you as you held onto whatever you first grabbed. It was an Egyptian cotton sheet. Like that would save you from anything. “Good old Bats will find us soon, and you’re just the piece to the game,” he mentions, merely shrugging his shoulders. 

You furrow your brows together, unaware at first where he was coming from. Then, you bit your lower lip shifting yourself one more time. As you do so, Jungkook makes another noise from deep inside his throat. “I wouldn’t do those sweets,” he says, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. “If you’re thinking about killing me,” pausing to turn around. 

Jungkook stood with his purple suit pants, orange vest, and green long sleeve that he started to roll to his forearm. “I’ll have your body six feel blow even before you grab the gun.” he threatens his voice darkening as his eyes flash with pure amusement. 

You didn’t know what to say to that or what to do next. You felt trapped and unaware of what could happen next. Especially with the rumors you’ve heard about his ever-changing personality. You fold your legs back onto the bed, eyes still locked on Jungkook’s. 

He walks forwards, humming as he does so. A child’s nursery theme, you couldn’t think off right away. Then, Jungkook leans forwards and places his index finger under your chin. Lifting it while his eyes glowed brightly with his own amusement. “Now be a sweet doll and don’t cause Joker any trouble.” he purrs his words like venom. 

“I wouldn’t want such a pretty face to go to waste~” his high pitched laughter haunting you while he slowly moves from the room. 

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 02 - Ancient

Victor and Clara stood at the mouth of the huge cave. Above were the claw scratches of a young dragon, kept fresh over the centuries - nay, millenia - by careful, loyal kobolds. It displayed the name of the master of the cave in a script forgotten even by Time himself. Above it, in similar fashion, but with the deeper cuts started by the claws of a far older dragon, was the name "Gehrakt" carved out in an old, primitive form of Draconic writing. However, the two humans focused their attention on a metal sign, on which was carefully carved in several modern languages: Gehrakt's Cave Those who seek power, begone. Those who want riches, flee. Those who require knowledge... Enter, and prove your mettle.

Victor stared at the sign, then looked to his friend. "Well, that's us, then," he remarked, lighting his lantern before the dark, deep tunnel ahead. "We really can't afford to burn time now." Clara nodded as she did one last gear check before picking up her hiking staff, and together, they ventured inside. They walked in silence for a minute, following a simple tunnel around gentle curves until the entrance vanished from sight. Though they passed a few discarded, rusting swords and flails, and a number of snapped wands and bows, they pressed onwards; if their equipment was not enough for them, the legacies of failed conquerers would be of no aid. From time to time, Vincent thought he saw something scurry in the darkness, but there was nothing when he swung the light around, and he could hear nothing but his and Clara's footsteps. "Do you think it was a bluff? Assuming nobody would try to fight or steal from a dragon who'd lived so long?" Victor asked as they rounded another bend. Clara shook her head, her eyes glued to the walls of the cavern. Nothing more than some kobold-sized claw scratches and some paintings, presumably also by kobolds, so far. "I don't think so. Bluffs only work if your opponent doesn't call them. And while nobody in their right mind would try, he still has to contend with those out of their mind." "True. Oh, look ahead!" He held the lantern aloft, where, rather than a single tunnel, the path split off into two, separated by a thick wall. "Tisk, tisk, Clara," he joked with a grin, "this never would've happened if we'd just kept assuming there was nothing." His companion snrked and playfully pushed him. "Alright, wiseass, but I reckon that assumption would lead us down a random path, and I like having better than fifty-fifty odds on my life." They looked closer, careful not to step into either tunnel yet. Down one lay scattered weapons and armor, much like they'd passed already, but in good condition. Arranged rather than tossed aside, arrows bundled next to a bow gleaming with magic. In the other, a few silver coins from ages long, long ago were scattered near the entrance; they turned to gold a number of feet beyond, and from there, the wealth started piling up. Diamonds, rubies, golden statues, and more poked out of mounds of gold currency and bricks. Both humans felt the desire to step in, and take just one, so even if the dragon wasn't helpful, their visit would not be a total waste. And yet... "Okay, so they both scream 'trap,'" Victor remarked, "one for power and one for wealth. But there's not third option, barring tunneling, and we don't have the tools for that." "Could be the middle? It's wide enough for a person, and those parables often come from SOMEwhere," Clara reasoned, then tapped her walking staff against the wall by her feet. Solid as, well, rock. "Darn." "To be honest, I'm relieved. Can you imagine if all the dragon older than the ancestors of our ancestors had keeping people out was a trick wizards learn to hide contraband from their parents and siblings? Still, where does that leave us?" "Backwards? Maybe the cave changed after we passed, or there's an illusion that hides a passage from one direction." Victor shook his head. "Nah, then this would reward people for giving up on it. The sign didn't say 'prowess' or 'sense,' it said 'mettle.' I think it intends on people to push forward and find the solution." "Well, if back's not the answer, the walls are solid, and forward's trapped, what's left?" As she said it, they both looked at each other, and slowly drew their gaze upward. Hanging next to a stalactite, a coiled up rope ladder was visible amidst the shadows. "I got it," Clara said, and reached up with her staff to smack the ladder. It came tumbling down, the lowest rung hanging a foot over the ground. "Right, then, up I go," Victor said, and began his ascent. His friend, meanwhile, swiftly unscrewed her staff into several shorter pieces to stow away before she followed him up. "Short, hard to reach, hidden... this feels like a kobold maintenance tunnel," he grumbled. They soon found a ladder down, and Victor descended. Clara called after him, "maybe it is! Makes the test all the more fitting, if we turned out to have beaten not just the puzzle, but the system it's framed in, no?" "Eh, it's also a simple enough answer that it's probably the intended solu-" he cut himself off as he looked around and sighed. "Man, beating the system doesn't feel as good when the system is THIS." Clara stepped down the ladder. "Why, what is it- oh." A two-foot wall obstructed the entrance to the narrow tunnel they had climbed into, revealing that it was, in fact, the middle path, hidden by a rocky illusion. "Okay, I agree with you. That's a disappointing puzzle." She reached her hand out to pass through the fake barrier, but was stopped by something solid in mid-air. An actual illusion. "You know, if it didn't just happen to me, I bet I'd find this pretty funny," Victor quipped, "now let's keep going, if anyone's got that cure, it's Gehrakt the Eldest." And the two of them set down the tunnel. They passed several sets of significant-looking scratch marks, but from what they could tell, it was all code, or at least unknown abbreviations and slang by the dragon's kobolds. Eventually, they came upon another metal sign in several languages. Upon this one was written, simply: Stand on the X to meet Gehrakt The humans looked down at the floor. There was a large circle painted on the smooth, rock ground. They looked around, but all of note on the walls or ceiling were some claw scratches in what were decidedly not X-like shapes. "So... do we stand on the circle instead?" Clara asked. Victor shook his head. "I don't think so. It's not an easy shape to mix up. Unless this is some illusion of an O on top of an actual X, which would be kinda unfair." Clara nodded. "And, like the going-backwards option before, it would allow in people who didn't understand the trick, too. Here, let me try something." Having reassembled her staff, she used it to scrape an X inside the circle, then placed a foot carefully on the new symbol. Nothing happened. The two of them read and reread the sign a few times, wondering if there was an error in translation that had been missed when putting it into their first language. To no avail, however; everything but the single, translation-unneeded X was as good as they knew it could be. Clara narrowed her eyes. With careful balance, aided by her walking staff, she placed her foot on the sign, right over the X. Almost immediately, a small section of the wall above the sign slid away, revealing a small, scaly head. The kobold yapped and wiggled an arm through the hole to point at the circle. "Stand on the circle?" got another yap. So the two humans stood on it, and in a flash of light, they were suddenly in front of Gehrakt. To say that Gehrakt was big was an understatement. Dragons do not stop growing if they are not killed, and Gehrakt was the oldest dragon by a long shot. He bore an old scar, now the size of three men end-to-end, across his eye. Victor and Clara had seen dragons the size of horses. They had heard stories of dragons the size of a house. There were myths and legends of dragons big enough to stand over houses and barely scrape their belly-scales. But Gehrakt? His scales were visibly tougher than just about anything. With a wayward bite, he could devour entire trees and barely notice. The two of them looked at him, and were given the distinct, unsettling impression that to walk from the tip of his snout to the end of his tail would take hours upon hours, if not entire days. HELLO, HUMANS. WHAT DO YOU SEEK? The voice was loud, impossible to ignore, and was not spoken, but rather appeared in their heads. Clara was glad she had her walking staff to lean on, and Victor rather wished he had one as well. It took them a couple of seconds to recover, before Victor could respond. "We... our town is afflicted by an illness turning victims to stone. We have no books on it, and seek knowledge on its cure, and on its prevention." AND NOT ON HOW TO RECREATE OR HEIGHTEN IT? "Uh... no? Look, one of our town's teachers is made of marble now, and when we left, my best friend had lost a foot to it. Subjecting anyone else to this is beyond our furthest thoughts." "Plus, if anyone actually wanted to weaponize petrification, there's always chucking a basilisk over the wall," Clara muttered, and was quickly shushed by Victor. THAT IS SUFFICIENT. KREER VITGEHRAKT WILL GUIDE YOU. IF IT IS WRITTEN, YOU WILL FIND IT ON THAT SHELF. The rapid sound of scaly feet pitter-pattered up behind them. The humans turned to see the kobold from earlier before them. Kreer yapped, and began to walk off. The pair followed it, and only once they brought themselves to look away from Gehrakt did they see his hoard of knowledge. Hundreds of spiraling, conical pillars jutted out of the ground, each one lined with bookshelves filled with countless books. As Victor stared at them, he spotted a number of moving shapes browsing the shelves, each one presumably having gone through a similar trial to meet him. He squinted, making out not only humans, elves, and kobolds, but also gnolls, some sort of slime, and a couple of harpies browsing the stacks. Clara hung back a couple steps. "Uh... Mister Gehrakt? May I ask a couple questions?" A bemused glint appeared in the eye of the dragon. YOU HAVE ASKED ONE ALREADY; WHAT IS THE SECOND? The human smiled at having seen the joke coming, then asked, "just before we got here, there was a sign saying to stand on the X, but it was an O that we stood on to get teleported here. Was tapping my foot against the X on the sign really the solution?" Gehrakt drew his massive head back, and for a moment, Clara was terrified that she had offended him. Instead, however, he turned to face Greer, who chirped out a few short phrases in Draconic. IT WAS NOT INTENDED TO BE SO. ONE OF MINE HAS MISLABELED THE TELEPORT GLYPH. IT WILL BE FIXED. THOUGH... THAT SOLUTION IS NOT A BAD IDEA. Clara let out a breath, then sped up a bit to catch up to her companion and the kobold. "So," she said quietly to Victor, "Kreer gave us the answer to that last test, because it wasn't supposed to be one. We overthought a mistake." They walked towards one of the nearer spires of literary knowledge, and as they climbed its slope, they passed by a gnome, a politely coiled lamia, and a small, yellow pegasus before the kobold yapped once more and pointed at a bookshelf, then stepped past them and made his way back down. The books were all medical texts on uncommon and rare communicable diseases. Between the two of them, Victor and Clara quickly found the information they needed. On a sheet of paper they had brought, they copied down facts about the strange disease and made multiple copies of the instructions for creating and applying the cure. Once done, they carefully walked back down the spire. The lack of handrail was much more apparent as they descended, but they eventually managed to get back to Gehrakt and the teleportation ring. HOLD, HUMANS. MY KNOWLEDGE COMES AT NO GREAT EXPENSE, BUT NEITHER IS IT FREE. They froze at the dragon's booming, telepathic voice. "What- what would you ask of us? We do not bring much gold," Clara said. I VALUE LITTLE OF PRETTY METALS. YOU WILL TRADE KNOWLEDGE FOR KNOWLEDGE. A new kobold skittered up to them, carrying a roll of parchment and a quill. It scratched a few words to test, then looked up at them. A COPY OF THE STORY OF YOUR JOURNEY. THAT IS THE PRICE OF THE CURE YOU SOUGHT. WORRY NOT, YOUR TOWN NEEDS YOUR TIME MORE THAN I, SO YOU MAY ABRIDGE YOUR TELLING. Vincent and Clara shared a glance, nodded, and began their tale...