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g0thc0re420 · 4 months ago

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Soulmates AU! Growing Pains: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Word Count: 17, 923

CW: age gap! slow burn, cursing, smut (choking), mentions death of parent. Dr. kink.

Synopsis: Maybe this was what you needed. A change of scenery, hopefully a reassignment to some other foreign planet where you could collect more samples. You rubbed the inside of your wrist. Another heartbreak, so far, the worst one of your Starfleet days. Taking a peek just to reassure yourself the mark was still there, still not yet able to make out the half image fully, you dropped your head and sighed. Maybe you were late. You had been in Starfleet practically from birth. Your mom was one of the best captains in recent Starfleet history, or depending on who you asked, she had already found her place amongst the greats, and in some instances even giving Admiral Pike a run for his money. You only hoped you could live up to what she had always imagined for you. You quickly pulled down your sleeve and stood, soulmate be damned, the stars waited for no one.

You traveled through the ranks of Starfleet quickly, as to be expected, and currently stood in front of Admiral Pike's office. You had no idea what this meeting could be about. You were on shore leave from your current assignment and you were hoping to be able to sleep in sometime this next week. You quickly shook those thoughts from your head as you raised your hand to gingerly knock on the door. Stifling your nerves, still feeling like you had been sent to the principal's office.

“Come in,” called from the other side of the door and you took a breath to steady yourself. Entering the office you were taken aback to see a head of jet black hair already sitting in front of the Admiral. Waiting for his gesture before sitting, the two of you are too close for the formalities of Starfleet at this moment.

“I understand you’re on shore leave at the moment so we’ll make this quick. The USS Enterprise is getting ready to leave on a 7 year voyage, and Commander Spock has apparently waited until this very moment to choose his right hand,” You must have looked extremely confused considering the subtle taken aback look on Spock’s face.

“I’ve kept quite an eye on you since you joined the Academy.” Spock finally spoke, and you allowed yourself to turn and look at him. “You hold a doctorate in botanical sciences and you wrote your dissertation on how we could take Hippomane mancinella and from removing one gene make a non-poisonous twin that could be used to restore coastal plains.” Spock paused for a second, glancing at Admiral Pike before continuing. “You are also my best friend, and I care very deeply for you. I hope you know that I have chosen you because you are the most logical choice for the job.”

You could feel a flush of heat spread rapidly across your face, slightly bowing your head towards him, “Thank you Commander Spock.” The slight twitch in the corner of his mouth was all you needed.

“You also made Lt. Commander this year, you’re 24, certainly one of the youngest we’ve had in the current history of Starfleet,” Admiral Pike spoke again.

You looked back at him and cleared your throat, sitting up straighter in your chain, “Youngest to make Lt. Commander in the last 25 years,” a weight sat heavy on your chest as the sentence left your mouth. The real reason for your hesitation.

“(Y/N) do you even realize how proud she would be of you even if you never joined Starfleet? You have her brains and her heart, and based on what I’ve heard from Spock here you’ve gotten one over on him more than once during sparring exercises.”

“How long do I have to pack?”

Three days later, you were before Spock once again. This time in an office of your own and quickly falling into a comfortable silence with the vulcan by your side. Both of your heads buried in your PADDS as you both had to finalize a few remaining documents and double check all incoming reports. You were tasked with helping Spock give out the assignments to everyone who stepped foot on the Enterprise. You painted a smile on your face and made sure everyone was where they were supposed to go. Noticing that your line was dwindling down you looked around for Spock, wanting to double check nothing else remained on your part before the USS Enterprise took off on her adventure.

“(Y/N)?” A voice behind you half screamed your name and as you spun around your sights quickly fell on Nyota Uhura. You double checked that no one needed your assistance before sprinting over to her and enveloping her in a hug. “I thought you were away!”

“Admiral Pike called me back. I’ve been reassigned.”

Her eyes widened as she stepped away from you in shock, “No way!” You frantically nodded as she let out an overjoyed squeal while dancing in place, “Thank god I'll at least have you for the next 7 years.”

After making a lap around the ship to make sure there were no stragglers you met Spock again, this time quickly falling in stride beside him and heading to the bridge. Quickly you were introduced to several faces you had never seen, before your eyes fell onto the man sitting in the Captain’s chair.

A soft smirk fell on his face as he stepped toward you and pulled you into a hug, “Welcome aboard (Y/N). It’s good to have you home.”

You pulled away from him, suddenly conscious of how many people were watching the interaction. “Thank you Captain. It’s good to be here.” Moving back to stand behind Spock you stifled the feeling of embarrassment that crept up within you. What would everyone think of you after that interaction? He was your boss.

Pulling out your PADD you read through a couple new reports that had started filing in while waiting for James to finish his speech and by the end of his rambling when Spock looked at his PADD all he needed to do was skim the documents and provide a signature. As he went to comment on the way you gave clear and concise instructions in response to any remaining questions in the correspondence he noticed you were already gone and there was no trace of you on the bridge.

Moments later Spock found you, already diving head deep into the research you couldn’t wait to explore and prepping the built in greenhouse for any future plants that could cause significant problems.

“I see we are quick to begin our work,” Spock mused, hands behind his back as he stepped into what was now a barren tin can.

“Yes!” You quickly stood from the container you were mixing starter soil in, “If we get to our next destination alive I want to be prepared,” You took a small step closer to Spock, lowering your voice hoping that no one else would hear. “I apologize for leaving the bridge so abruptly earlier. When Captain Kirk hugged me it made me extremely uncomfortable.”

“I understand the sentiment as I also do not fare well to public displays of affection.” Spock gave you that vulcan half smile again before walking over to where you previously were and picking up a pair of gloves.

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

6 months in and Leonard was pissed. You had been a thorn in his side for 34 days now. For the last month he had tried hunting you down, but he didn’t even know where to start looking. Why did the enterprise even need a botanist? It was just one more patient that tested the remaining patience he had left. “Dammit Jim you promised me I would have (Y/N)’s physical exam done by the end of the week!”

“I was just calling about that, if you want that done you’re going to have to make a house call.”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Because I might have not told them anything about being late for any sort of physical just to mess with you.”

Leonard sighed before bringing both hands up to his temples. 6 months in and he could already confirm he was going to die of a stroke. Jim was going to speed up that process tenfold if he continued with antics like this. There was some sort of virus going around the ship right now, he didn’t need to be making calls to random personal quarters.

“When I get my hands on you.”

“Thank me later , Bones.” Leonard could hear the devious smile Jim held on his face through the comm and couldn’t help but instinctually roll his eyes as he was then told the two locations he could find you. Checking the time he was certain he would be able to find you at your quarters. He entered the turbolift and in his anger almost ran into Spock.

“Doctor.” Spock gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement.

“Commander.” The air was stiff around them. McCoy, not too sure why he didn’t like the Vulcan, maybe it was the coldness. He was so still in everything down to his breathing. Almost the complete opposite of the way a human reacts.

A lightbulb went off when he suddenly remembered that Spock was a science officer, the blue shirt had been in front of him multiple times this week and Leonard hadn’t made the connection until this very awkward moment.

“Commander Spock, one of the science officers, is late for their physical exam. I tried recruiting the Captain for his help in informing them, but apparently he’s just been playing games with me the entire time. Would you happen to know where I could find Lt. Commander (Y/L/N)?”

He didn’t miss the way the Vulcan’s eyebrows raised as he lifted his head from whatever he was reading on his PADD. Looking maybe a little too close, Leonard could see an almost quizzical look appear on Spock's face. “That is very unlike (Y/N). Some days I fear they may run a tighter schedule than me.” Spock only half spoke the latter sentence aloud, mostly musing to himself. Spock looked at the floor level the confused doctor chose and almost felt pity. Has Leonard McCoy really not met you yet? The thought was somewhat incredulous to Spock. You had to be the clumsiest human he had ever met. Sober you was almost as bad as an inebriated Jim.

“You’re not going to find them in their personal quarters. I would start at the research library, if you don’t find (Y/N) there, go to the greenhouse.” The turbolift opened and Spock gracefully stepped out, “I wish you the best of luck Dr. McCoy.”

After getting somewhat lost from the library, Leonard finally found the greenhouse. He stopped at the door, not knowing what sort of protocol to follow, so he rapped on the door with the back of his knuckles. There was a moment of silence before he heard you call out.

“Come in,” The first thing Leonard saw when he stepped in was a giant computer system running a constant stream of intel from the plants you had collected on surface missions already. From soil hydrations, pH of the soil, humidity in different areas of the greenhouse. He looked around before seeing a pair of blue pants to his left and there you were, almost completely bent over. He didn’t even notice the trough like planter you were currently digging to the bottom of, all he could focus on was the way those blue pants clung to your body. From the roundness of your ass, his eyes trailed down to your thighs, further down to where your pants just ever so slightly flared at your calves.

“Need some help there Darlin’?

Your head quickly popped out of the planter, the blush you were currently experiencing, exacerbated the redness of regaining blood flow to your head again. Leonard felt his heart skip, his eyes grazed over you before he cleared his throat, “Are you Lt. Commander (Y/L/N)?”

“Yes I am, may I ask-”

“Leonard McCoy, CMO.” he stated gruffly before you could even finish your question, trying to push down the reaction he felt when he made eye contact with you. He didn’t need to feel anything for anyone right now. He had a job to do dammit and that job didn’t involve any sort of personal relationships.

“Oh.” You briefly looked down at your feet, the solid exterior slightly putting you off after the semi-sweet first impression he had going for him. “Well, if the CMO had to come all the way down to the greenhouse for me then it must be important. How can I be of service?” You moved closer to him, away from all the plants, and suddenly he could smell the florals on you.

Oh god. Leonard definitely didn’t want to answer that last question. The imagine of you bent over that ungodly sized planter was almost enough to do him in. He didn’t know what was going on with him. “You’re late for your 6 month physical, and typically I wouldn’t hunt down a patient over something like this but you’re over a month late and you’re the last one.”

“A month?” You had to keep yourself from screeching, “I am so sorry. I can be up there first thing tomorrow morning? What time would you like me to be at med bay?”

Leonard scoffed, “Are you serious?”

“Very much so. Why would you think that I wasn’t being serious?” You looked up at him, before sitting at your desk and pulling up your schedule. “I’m assuming that 0600 is probably too early,” and Leonard couldn’t agree more, he would need to be wide awake when dealing with you. “I’ll be having my lunch around 1300 tomorrow, does that time work with you Doctor?”

Leonard felt a hitch in his breathing at the use of his title. Breathing has never been this hard for him, even when he thought he was head over heels for Jocelyn, “T-that works just fine with me, and I promise not to take up your entire lunch.”

“I’ll hold you to that Doc.” you winked at him and he watched as you added the appointment into your daily schedule. Leonard cleared his throat once again and quickly turned, leaving you back in the serene peace of the greenhouse. Realizing the time you started packing up your things, making your rounds through the nursery and checking all the levels one more time just to be safe.

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

Leonard had a hard time sleeping. You had a 3 minute conversation and yet you were now consuming his dreams. He kept getting pieces of what he saw last night flooding his mind as he had down time in med bay.

Checking your pulse he couldn’t ignore the feeling of your heartbeat increasing ever so slightly. “You sure you’re feeling okay Darlin.?” He couldn’t help but notice the blush that spread across your skin, covering your cheeks and nose.

His fingers still resting on your carotid, you looked up at him from the examination bed you were currently sitting on, your eyes wide and playful, “I’m not too sure Dr. McCoy, that’s why I came to see you.”

“Is that right?” Leonard mused as he held eye contact with you, his hand slowly moving to grasp your neck, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip-

“Bones!” Leonard was snapped out of relishing his dreams by Jim, yelling his name and flapping around his arms like he was on fire. Truth be told he didn’t even see his best friend walk in.

“Jim, what is so important that you had to come and bother me during the middle of the day?”

Jim softly slumped in the chair in front of his friend, feigning hurt at the abrupt shutdown of his antics. “So, did you make that house call?” Jim couldn’t help the smile that crept on his face. Being close to the both of you only made it easier for Jim to plan the beginning of his plan.

Leonard hummed to himself, mulling over the question his friend had asked, “I did, in fact the Lt. Commander agreed to come in for their physical exam later today.” Leonard released almost a half smile as he thought of seeing you again.

“That's all?” Jim had stared at the man before him bewildered. “Bones! I was trying to set you up together! You’d be perfect for each other, and you never know, (Y/N) could be your-”

Leonard could already see where Jim was going with this and he didn’t need another lecture on his love life from Jim, “You know I’ve given up on that, besides…”

“Besides?” Jim waved his hand in the air, trying to coax the last of the sentence out of him.

“She’s only 24, Jim,” he lowered his voice, “What would everyone think of me? They’d never let me speak at the Academy again!”

“Bones, she’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions. Even if nothing happens between the two of you, you could still use another friend. I mean when I’m all you got,” Jim grimaced and shook his head. “It must be rough for you.”

“Thank you for that Jim. Now please, leave my office.” Leonard started on the paperwork he had waiting for him, not even really minding if Jim stayed, as long as he dropped the subject of you.

“Yeah, it probably is time for me to be somewhere else. I’m serious Bones, Maybe just try and get to know (Y/N) outside of the med bay. I think you’d be in for a pleasant surprise.”

Leonard couldn’t help but roll his eyes, ignoring the pit in his stomach as the scenes of you unburied themselves in his mind.

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

As much as you tried to focus on the report in front of you, you couldn’t help but think of the gruff doctor who visited you last night. The goosebumps that covered your body whenever he maintained eye contact with you made you want to jump him. A shiver rolled down your back as you were reminded of the southern drawl that hung in the air after he called you that damned nickname. Darlin’. Sighing you ran a hand down your face, trying anything to pull your thoughts away from the doctor who made a special late night trip just for you.

“(Y/N) is everything okay?” Spock was now in front of your desk.

You let a tired smile hang on your lips and you rolled your eyes as the vulcan was still trying to decipher what human emotion you were feeling, “Just feeling a little worn down with the pace I’ve been holding the past couple months. I should probably try to slow down sooner than later.”

“Did Dr. McCoy find you last night?” Spock was now staring intently as you almost choked on the sip of coffee you were trying to enjoy.

“I didn’t even know I missed the physical exam, how did you?” You stared back with the same intensity as your vulcan friend, before he finally caved.

“He almost ran over me getting on the turbolift looking for you. Apparently Captain Kirk was supposed to inform you it was due and Dr. McCoy suggested the captain had been avoiding telling you just get one over on our Chief Medical Officer.”

“Sounds like something James would do,” you ended the conversation and Spock was almost at the door before you spoke up again, “Commander Spock, I was hoping to take a few personal days at the end of this week. I can make sure everything is set and running on its own, but it’s…” you hesitated, not wanting to say the words out loud. It was crazy to you, still being affected by a day like this. To everyone else but you, two days from now would just be a regular work day. You cleared your throat, wanting to try to make it through the sentence without unleashing too many human emotions on the vulcan you held near and dear. Forgetting that if anyone understood what you were feeling, it would be Spock. “It’s her birthday.”

“I understand Lt. Commander. I also have times where the pain seems all too fresh. Your personal days are granted, just send them to me in a formal request so we have the documentation.” You nodded your head in agreement, double checking the time, you were surprised just how fast it passed, and if you hurried, you could bring a coffee for the doctor.

Walking into med bay you held the hot coffee in your hand and smiled at the nurse who greeted you, you recognized her as Nurse Chapel, she did the exams for your transfer to the USS Enterprise. “I have an appointment with Dr. McCoy.”

She smiled at you from the sign in desk and handed you a PADD to start filling out some general information on. “I am sure glad to see you Lt. Commander, Dr. McCoy has been going a little bit overboard trying to make sure everyone’s physicals are up to date. You’re the last one left.”

“Well hopefully once this is over Dr. McCoy can finally find something to help him relax.” You smiled at her as you handed the PADD back, she led you to a quiet exam room and assured you that the doctor would be in to see you in just a few minutes. You could feel the slight downward pull at the corners of your mouth as you glanced at the cup in your hand. “Please let Dr. McCoy know not to keep me waiting too long, unless he enjoys cold coffee.” Nurse Chapel laughed before patting your hand and walking out of the room.

You didn’t like med bay, hospitals, or anything that had to do with patching people up and hoping you’re fixing them. The white sterile room bringing up feelings of uneasiness. You looked around, setting the coffee down next to the PADD that was already in the room and taking a seat on the exam room bed. Sitting on the edge with your legs dangling you watched the clock on the wall tick.

After two minutes of staring at the clock on the wall your comm went off. “Lt. Commander (Y/L/N)?”

You knew what it was, you had been eating lunch with Spock every day for the last 6 months. “I’m still in med bay, my appointment was until 1300 so I’m here just a little bit early. I promise as soon as i’m done here-”

Your voice faded out as Leonard walked into the room. “I’ll let you know when I am done in med bay Commander Spock.” Your eyes locked with Leonard as he stood in the doorway to the exam room, politely waiting for you to finish your conversation. Once he had your full attention you looked back at him giving a sheepish smile as he walked into the room. “I made you a coffee. It’s a flat white.” You gave a soft sigh as you revel in your thoughts for a moment.

Leonard took in a breath when he saw the perfect white dot sitting in the caramel colored foam. “Flat whites are my favorite,” he turned to you as he took the first sip of his coffee. You were sure you were still in a dream when you saw the corners of Leonard's eyes scrunch, followed by a deep hum in his chest. Your eyes flicked down to his torso, admiring how the blue shirt clung to his broad shoulders. Following the lines of his body down you watched how his chest flexed as he turned to reach for the PADD behind him.

“So, it says here you’re a month due for a physical exam. You’ve been on several away missions in the last 6 months, if you keep going at this pace you’re probably going to have to get a physical every 3 months.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, quickly apologizing once you saw the frown reappear on his face, “My apologies Doctor, it was just funny to me how I mentioned to Commander Spock that I needed to slow down. I’m not as spry as I was in my academy days.”

Leonard couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh at your comment, “(Y/N) you’re 24, you’re still young and spry.”

“Dr. McCoy I was officially accepted into Starfleet Academy at 12, I have a PhD in botanical sciences and I’m the youngest person to achieve the rank of Lt. Commander in the last 25 years. I haven’t slowed down. I cut my month long shore leave down to 3 days to be transferred from the USS Scovil to the Enterprise. How many away missions have I been on?”

“43,”

“That’s 7 a month for the last 6 months. Honestly, Spock is surprised I didn’t end up down here sooner.”

“So am I, some of those away missions ended up hostile, how did you just dip under the radar?” Leonard was now taking the time to read through most of the reports on file for you. He didn’t even realize you had been on any of these, without any checkups in between.

“My mom was Captain (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N).” The prestige of her name floated through the room and you watched as Leonard took what brief information he had about you and put the pieces together, “I’ve been training in hand to hand combat since I could walk. I am perfectly capable of defending myself with every weapon on this ship. I’ve taken on Spock and won.”

Leonard was now standing in front of you, gently pressing his fingers to your neck, staring at the watch he still wore on his wrist, “What’s the deal with you guys anyway? Ya know the people on this ship don’t know how to keep anything to themselves, they like to whisper.”

“You should have heard what they were saying about Jim and I after he hugged me on the bridge in front of everyone,” you wanted to sigh at the feeling of his skin on yours, a tingling sensation seemed to linger wherever he touched you, “With Spock it’s different. We both have the same mark, like matching same sides, not opposite sides. One night I was studying for the Academy and prepping for my dissertation. I had a few and ended up laying on my balcony outside pondering the woes of life. It was the first time Spock told me I was his best friend, and I made a stupid joke about how we were halfmates. That was 5 years ago.” A fond giggle fell from your lips as Leonard removed his fingers.

He pulled out his tricorder and started scanning you, “I know it’s weird for people to see a vulcan and a human so close, but that night Spock explained to me that finding someone with the same mark as you was almost as rare as finding your soulmate.”

A scoff fell out of the doctor’s mouth as he motioned for you to lay back, pulling out a hologram screen to run a full body scan, “You actually believe in all that bullshit?”

You could feel a blush creeping up your neck, you felt like you were on fire under his hazel gaze, “Yeah. My parents were, and from what I remember they were always so happy, my dad never remarried. He was her #1. On and off the ship. I see the same thing in the way Spock and Uhura look at each other when the other isn’t looking. I hear the way Sulu talks about his husband. Besides,” you waved your hand in the air, needed to catch your breath as the doctor held your gaze, “They’re a soulmate, if I don’t find them in this lifetime, I’ll find them in the next.”

You wanted to disappear, watching the look on Leonard’s face morph ever so slightly into a different emotion as you explained yourself. You couldn’t help yourself from flickering your eyes down to his slightly parted lips. Never have you ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as you wanted to reach up and kiss Dr. McCoy right now.

“I guess I’ve never thought of it like that,” Leonard spoke his thoughts out loud while he looked at the reports that had generated in front of him. “I was married, she wasn’t my soulmate, but I loved her. Thought she loved me too. I think she did at one point, but from what I’ve heard, nothing’s the same after you meet “the one.”” Leonard placed air quotes and he turned to look at you, “You’re clear to go. Everything looks great.”

You sat up and Leonard offered a hand to help you down, “Thank you for the coffee, I’ve dreamt of having a coffee that good since we’ve been on this floating tin can.”

You couldn’t help but let a smile grace your features, “Thank you, it feels really great to be complimented on something that doesn’t revolve around my work for the Federation.”

“Anytime Darlin’” Leonard let go of your hand to open the door, leading you back out to the med bay waiting area.

“I guess I’ll see you in 6 months,” you couldn’t help how your smile slightly faltered as you realized your time with Dr. McCoy was coming to an end.

“If you go on that away mission next week, then I expect to see you much sooner than that.” His eyes scanned your features, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

Thankfully the waiting room was empty and even though it was your second time meeting this man all you could think about was how intoxicating he was. His eyes seemed to drink you up, he smelled like whiskey and spice, like cinnamon and anise, and your back, it was still tingling from where his hand last rested. “Then I promise you will see me sooner than six months, Doctor.” Noticing how Leonard seemed like you hit the pause button after you used the title, it almost looked as if he was short-circuiting.

You glanced at the time, noticing you only had half of your lunch hour left. Spock! You stepped away from Leonard and smoothed out your uniform. “Thank you for taking the time to see me today, and for informing me last night,” You gave him a soft smile, “Maybe I can bring you another coffee sometime.”

Your nerves grew as you watched Leonard fold his arms over his chest before you saw a twinkle in his eye, “I think I would like that very much.”

“Great! Sounds like a date!” You called over your shoulder, you didn’t see the way Leonard flinched at the word ‘date, or the way he stared after you for a couple seconds longer than he should have.

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

4 months later and you now had a pretty solid routine going, you and Leonard were spending more time together, mostly due to you. Every Friday morning you would meet him in his office, coffee in hand and the two of you would sit and talk about work, while you approved reports from the following night. This was an easy transition for you, and on fridays you couldn’t meet, it almost felt like you were going through withdrawals until you saw him again.

This Friday was different. The previous night you ended up spiking a fever along with a few other symptoms like chills and nausea. Spock knew you didn’t like the med bay but he also trusted you enough to know he wouldn’t need to restrain and carry you up to med bay, unlike the Captain. So he sent you away and let you know to contact him in the morning about how you were feeling.

From the second you opened your eyes it felt like someone had laid a 50lb dumbbell on your skull. All lights and sound hurt, even the dim lights around the floor in your cabin had you digging around, looking for a pair of sunglasses. You reached for your comm, “Commander Spock, are you awake?”

“Lt Commander, you know you can call me Spock when we are off duty.” There was a brief moment of silence before he started speaking again, “(Y/N) why are you whispering?”

“I have a migraine, and while my fever is gone for now, the nausea hasn’t subsided at all. I’m calling out sick today.” You chuckled as you reminisced the last time you fell ill during the course of your friendship with Spock. It was the week before you graduated with your PhD, he didn’t believe it when you didn’t show up to class at the Academy. He came home, expecting you to be out, prematurely celebrating your success. Instead he found you quite literally on death’s door. Meningitis, you had ignored the symptoms for about a week, something that Spock continuously lectured you on during your multiple day stent in the ICU.

“If it gets any worse, I promise I will have you come drag me to med bay if need be.” It took all you could not to wince while you tried to smile at Spock through your comm, hoping he could hear the smile in your voice and not worry too much.

“I look forward to your recovery (Y/N), I don’t know how long I can handle Jim by myself.” The vulcan let out a very human sigh, and you felt a twinge of guilt roll through you as Spock went silent on the other end.

“I promise Spock, I’m not going to let a migraine and some small stomach bug take me out. I’m resilient.” You turned off your comm before pulling the sunglasses off and laying back down in your bed, already exhausted just from walking across the room. You slowly sank back into your sheets, pulling both a pillow over your eyes and your comforter past your head, trying to drown out any ray of light that could attempt to sneak in.

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

Leonard was becoming worried, you weren’t ever late for your friday coffee meetings. That’s what Leonard considered them. Meetings, you sat together, always drinking a new drink or new coffee from some of the friendlier planets in the solar system. Leonard was amazed when you told him about the multiple coffee plants you had in the greenhouse, hoping to one day be able to cultivate them. They were meetings, always revolving about what the other did the previous week or what new thing was currently bogging down your workload. Leonard was a gentleman, he wouldn’t consider the friday morning coffee ritual as a date, he had never formally asked you on a date, and at this point it was clear to him you didn’t seem very interested in taking this friendship any further than that. Just friends.

He debated walking back out into the waiting area to see if you were there. You didn’t even sign in on Fridays anymore, after the first couple weeks you would just walk into his office, coffee in hand, PADD tucked to your side. His thoughts were brought back to the conversation you had last week.

“Morning,” You greeted as you walked into his office, Leonard immediately noticed you looked off. Leonard didn’t know if he could tell because he was trained in recognizing the signs of when someone was sick or if he had just been around you enough to notice the subtle differences. You hair was thrown into a low bun, you seemed to be more slouched and you looked as if you were walking through mud.

“Mornin’ Darlin’” Leonard echoed your sentiment back as you pulled one of the chairs from in front of his desk so you were sitting right beside him. A yawn pulled itself from you as you sat the mugs down on the desk.

“It’s hot chocolate today,” you looked down at your hands, suddenly bashful at the thought of disappointing him with no coffee in sight, “I just don’t think I can handle the caffeine today, it’s practically the only thing I’ve consumed the past 4 days and I wanted something to make me feel better,” you were almost whispering at the end of your sentence.

Leonard wrapped his arm around you as laid your head on his shoulder, finding solace in the crook of his neck. You were so still and quiet he could have convinced himself you had fallen asleep if it weren’t for the feeling of your eyelashes brushing the exposed skin of his neck every couple of seconds. He noticed how pale you looked, the dark circles forming under your eyes.

He wanted to lecture you about taking care of yourself. You should know how much sleep you should be getting, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He knew it wasn’t what you needed. He was okay being your comfort at this moment, Lord knows you’ve done it plenty of times for him. Sneaking into his quarters after hours to listen to him rant after a particularly long day, He fell asleep on your lap once, he awoke to a note from you. It was an emergency, some ensign removed the wrong plant from the nursery and potentially exposed the entire staff in the greenroom to a noxious gas the plant emitted when it wasn’t mature enough to be transferred out of the nursery.

“Len,” You mumbled against his neck. He couldn’t help the way his heart swelled at the nickname. He hummed in response to you, “I grew the cocoa beans used to make that hot chocolate and if you don’t drink it I might actually cry from exhaustion. He couldn’t help the involuntary chuckle that bubbled out of him. He grabbed his mug as you sat up again, taking a sip, it was the best hot chocolate he had ever had the pleasure of drinking. He watched as you pulled out your PADD, checking the cameras in the greenhouse, before standing abruptly.

“I have to go. I’m so sorry but if that ensign is about do what I think he’s doing then I could lose almost a year's worth of research!” You moved so fast you forgot all about the hot chocolate, leaving your favorite mug on his desk.

Leonard still had the mug, he hadn’t been able to find an appropriate time to drop by your quarters to return it, but he also didn’t want to intrude on your work. You always made sure to come in before the med bay opened and unless you were getting back from an away mission, you didn’t hang around the med bay waiting for the chance of a quiet moment with Leonard. It was quite pleasant for him actually. Knowing that you could both go off and do your jobs, before reconnecting with each other gave him confidence in your relationship, friendship. He means friendship.

Leonard wiped the tired from his eyes once again before stepping out of his office. Ready to take on the day, his light just slightly dulled this morning without his ball of sunshine bounding through the door before his work had to begin. Today was going to be a long day. He grimaced, his frown deepening and the lines on his forehead etching themselves a permanent figure of the day.

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

It was finally lunch time, and Leonard had made up his mind hours before that he was going to use his lunchtime wisely and find you. His first stop was the green house, a couple of science officers were around as well as a handful of ensigns. He had walked the perimeter of the greenhouse, not finding you anywhere, not that he needed to look. Most of the time he just knew if you were somewhere. He was always able to find you. Even at the lavish holiday party the captain held for everyone Leonard was able to find you within minutes. He stayed by your side the whole night. He even danced with you a couple of times.

Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice he caught the attention of Commander Spock until it was too late. “Dr. McCoy, is there anything I can help you with?”

McCoy had a sinking feeling in his gut when he lifted his head up and saw Spock sitting at your desk, reading down a thorough check list to be completed by the end of the day. “I’m just looking for (Y/N). We usually do coffee in the morning on Fridays but they didn’t show up today. At all. Usually they’ve already contacted me and we would have rescheduled.” Leonard was still unsure how much he could trust the Vulcan so he wasn’t willing to go into further detail than that.

“(Y/N) has told me about the early morning rendezvous with you. They greatly appreciate them.” Spock straightened himself, separating the emotions from the conversation. “Lt. Commander (Y/L/N) is sick. I sent them to their quarters yesterday after they developed a fever. Today they told me their symptoms were a migraine and nausea. They are extremely prone to migraines, most days the Lt. Commander can just work through them,”

“(Y/N) is sick?” It’s not that Leonard didn’t believe the vulcan but he had even seen Spock sick during this last year on the ship, but you hadn’t even visited med bay once with even a case of the sniffles. Hell, because of Jim, even he had to be quarantined at least once in the last three months, “Any other symptoms I need to know about?”

“Not that I am aware of Dr. McCoy. However it seems the Lt. Commander’s migraines have become slightly more frequent in the last couple of months.”

Leonard took a mental note of what the vulcan was saying and his next mission was to get to your quarters. He had noticed last week you didn’t look like your usual self, now he was kicking himself for not pushing you to get checked out. He let his emotions for you get the better of him and he just focused on finding you. He was the CMO. He shouldn't be letting romantic emotions cloud his judgment when it comes to patient care.

Arriving at your door, Leonard gave a brief knock, waiting in the silence of the corridor to hear you call out, but there was no response, he tried his comm, “Lt. Commander (Y/L/N), Commander Spock informed me you were sick, I’m here to just make sure you’re doing okay.” No response, remembering the last time your comm went silent, a shudder ran through Leonard.

Another away mission, Jim said he confirmed the planet was abandoned, the only forms of life the Enterprise found were plant and animal life. Of course that turned out to not be the case and soon everything went to shit. Leonard already had his hands full with red shirts needing stitched up when everything stopped.

Jim and Sulu bust through the med bay doors, your limp body being held up by the two of them, “She was walking just a few seconds ago, but now she’s limp!” He watched Jim’s pleading eyes flickering around for anyone who was available to help. Spock was following behind and when it seemed like Jim and Sulu were about to lose their battle with supporting your dead weight, Spock stepped in and scooped you up. Cradling you in his arms like a child.

Leonard couldn’t do anything for the first 30 seconds, watching the way your body just hung there, no movement from you except the extremely quick and labored breathing you were exhibiting. He fully didn’t know what he was doing until he just left the red shirt sitting in front of him, having one of the nurses continue the stitches he was currently working on. When he finally reached you, it was hard to determine what blood was yours and what wasn’t.

Spock laid you on the closest open bed and Leonard began scanning you, with not only his tricorder but his eyes as well. He placed two fingers on your neck and closed his eyes, ignoring the tingling that started small in his fingertips and worked its way up his arm. Your pulse was strong and the sense of relief Leonard felt was strong enough to clear his head, though he still had to focus to not drop to his knees.

Looking at the PADD with your scans, he had to have looked visibly confused, because both Spock and Jim had tried to peek over his shoulder to read your medical information on the device in his hand. “She has no external injuries, and I can’t find any internal bleeding. What happened out there?”

Jim spoke first, “It was an ambush, they were waiting to show themselves until we hit the ground. (Y/N) had already made a break for the treeline, she was looking for a specific plant. They came out of nowhere, and Scotty was trying to beam us all out but he couldn’t get a steady signal on (Y/N). They were engaged in battle, 3 on 1. It didn’t stop until she-” Jim suddenly stopped his account of what happened on the foreign planet, almost too afraid to finish his sentence.

“We were finally able to get a steady signal and beamed them to the transporter, only after Lt, Commander (Y/L/N) had been thrown into a tree,” Spock finished for the Captain.

“I could have taken them if Scotty and Chekov hadn’t been yelling in my ear the entire time.” You slowly opened your eyes, bracing yourself for how bright the room surrounding you would be. “And it was 4 on 1 James.” There it was again, you were the only person who could get away with calling the Captain by his government name.

The breath Leonard didn’t know he was holding released as he made his way to your side, “From what I heard, you kicked ass down there.”

A sheepish smile was your response, he didn’t know why, but he needed to be close to you, he would have sat down on the bed and pulled you into his chest if he didn’t have his current audience. “You hit your head pretty hard (Y/N), and while it doesn’t look like a concussion I want to see you back here in 3 days just to make sure nothing else is going on.”

Leonard was pulled back into the present by your door opening, and there you were, gorgeous. Leonard couldn’t help the small smile he felt when he looked down at you. Noticing the way your messy locks fell around your face and the out of regulation pajamas you were wearing. The dark circles under your eyes more prominent now than they were last week.

“Len, what are you doing here?” You shielded your eyes from the brightness of the hallway. Wincing in pain when you tried looking up at him.

“Spock told me you were sick. I came to check on you.” A soft shrug from him and he didn’t miss how you seemed too tired to even roll your eyes at your boss for ratting you out to the CMO. You motioned at him with your hand before turning and walking back into your quarters.

Leonard had never actually been inside your living space until now, and he couldn’t help but feel immediately at home. Photos hung on your walls, photos of you from medical school, at the academy, there was one that caught his eye immediately. You and Jim, while both younger than you are now, were instantly recognizable. Jim was holding you on his shoulders, you held your PhD in your hand. Your joy in the photo emanating into the real world. Then he saw it, your mark.

Perfectly placed inside your wrist, he stepped closer, he could hear his blood swishing in his ears as he finally put two and two together. There it was, staring at him. He now had proof that his entire life you had been the one he was waiting for. An uneasy feeling sank over him. He just needed to push everything down. He was a doctor, he had a job to do, and he wouldn't let this discovery change anything.

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

You watched as Leonard looked around your small apartment, he was currently observing the photos on your walls. You were tired, you laid down on your couch and pulled a blanket up past your head. Your migraine now just a dull throb at the back of your skull. You could now hear Leonard shuffling around your kitchenette. When you finally pulled the blanket down you could see him standing in front of you.

There was a mug in one hand, and a tricorder in the other. “Leonard, I promise I’m fine. It’s just a migraine.”

Leonard scoffed before setting the mug down, “According to Commander Spock, your migraines have been more frequent lately, he also mentioned a fever and nausea.”

“Spock can’t keep his damn mouth shut can he?” You replied before moving into a sitting position and allowing the doctor to scan you. You hummed as his hand brushed across your wrist, immediately finding the spot to check your pulse.

“I was worried about you, ya know,” Leonard softly spoke. “When you didn’t show up this morning I knew something was wrong,” his sentence ended in a mumble of words. You couldn’t help but reach up and place a hand on his cheek.

“I apologize for making you worry, Doctor.” This time, you could feel his jaw slightly clench and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“(Y/N),” you noticed he was closer now, hovering mere inches from your face.

“Yes Leonard?” You could hear the catch in your breath as you spoke. His breath fanned across your face, the mintiness from brushing his teeth still lingering. The proximity of being so close had your heart going crazy and you couldn’t seem to think straight. As quickly as the moment started, he ended it. Pulling away and tucking his tricorder into his hip.

“Well, everything seems fine, and nothing is broken.” He made his way to your door. “Drink the tea, and take it easy for the next couple of days,” and with that he opened the door and walked away.

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

You hadn’t seen Leonard for two weeks, even on your last away mission he had someone else do you exam. He wouldn’t even come out of his office while you were in med bay. The daily throb in your heart of the rejection didn’t stop your stride but it definitely slowed it. You were second guessing yourself and you couldn’t seem to focus unless you had someone else to hold you accountable. You slept more these days, not being able to stay late in the greenhouse for the fear that your mind would start to wander and then you had your heart breaking all over again.

Sitting in the mess hall with Spock at lunch you were approached by an ensign. A yellow shirt, and when you looked behind him, you could see Sulu intently watching the interaction unfolding in front of him. “Lt Commander (Y/L/N), I was hoping I could invite you to the party we’re having tonight.”

You smiled up at him, intending to find a way to gently let him down, when the unsuspecting doctor walked into the mess hall, and you couldn’t help but smirk, motioning him closer to you, you decided to just be honest, “Listen kid, I’m sure you’re great, but someone already has my heart.” You watched their face slightly falter, “However, they’re too stubborn to admit it, help me make him jealous and I think I can talk to the Captain about your incredible performance.”

You weren’t expecting the quick nod of their head or the salute they sent your way from the table, keeping the smile on your face, you couldn’t help but laugh as Spock finally made eye contact with you. “I don’t see how you attending a party with a member from the flight crew could in any way make Dr. McCoy jealous.”

You could hear the ensign talking to Sulu as Dr. McCoy passed their table, “She said yes!” The ensign looked back over at you and waved, you made sure an enthusiastic smile was planted on face as you waved back, pretending not to feel Leonard’s glare boring into you as you turned back to Spock, “Just like that Commander Spock.” The vulcan couldn’t help the sigh of disappointment. Why must the two of you make things so complicated?

“Lt. Commander, wouldn’t it just be easier to tell Dr. McCoy, how you feel about him?”

You sighed, eyes bouncing around the room before landing down at the plate of replicated food in front of you, “I wish. He’s been avoiding me for 2 weeks now. Hell, the other day I helped another science officer to med bay and he wouldn’t even look at me,” you shrugged your shoulders before collecting your belongings, “I think maybe I should turn my affections elsewhere as Dr. McCoy has made it clear to me that he would no longer like a friendship with me, let alone a romantic relationship.” You turned on your heel, already done with the conversation and quite frankly done with the way your thoughts were constantly brought back to the man who wanted nothing to do with you.

You didn’t even see Leonard approach your table at the end of your conversation with Spock, determined to outrun the wave of emotions you could feel rising up in your chest.

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

The party was great, it really was, but you felt so out of place. Parties weren’t usually your thing and the ensign who asked you to the party quickly forgot about you as soon as you defended Spock in the middle of a heated conversation. Sulu ended up having to coax you away from the group as the insults toward your best friend kept coming, and you quickly rolled up your sleeves.

“Hey, you’re okay, anyone who really knows Spock knows that he’s actually a really great guy.” Sulu rubbed your arm as he led you to the bar. “Plus, it would be a little uncomfortable to end up in med bay right now.”

You scoffed and could help the incredulous look you gave him, “I wouldn’t have ended up anywhere but my cabin. The best part is none of them would have even known who I was until Captain Kirk inevitably got involved, and I also know that James would throw himself on top of a live grenade for me.”

Sulu couldn’t help but roll his eyes at you before handing you one of the drinks he ordered, “You and the captain are close too?”

“Yeah, he’s like an older brother. My mom and his dad were close, so he was over all the time when we were younger, he’s the one who pushed me to apply for my doctorate degree and even filled out a couple of applications behind my back, and he protected me more than once from creeps when he would sneak me into the bar with him.” You downed another drink the drink and looked at the crowd opposite of where you currently were, “I could still take him,”

“How many of those have you had tonight?” Sulu nodded at the empty glass in your hand.

You shrugged, setting the glass back down on the bar, “I lost count about 30 minutes ago.”

The comment earned you another laugh from the man beside you and suddenly your comm went off, “Lt. Commander! It’s great to see you here!” Your head suddenly turned into a swivel as you scanned the party, looking for the biggest pain in your ass you had ever met. Someone grabbed your shoulder from behind you and reflexively threw them over you to the ground, before placing a foot on their chest to keep them on the ground.

The laugh that followed had smoke coming out of your ears and suddenly you were a teenager again, “Chekov! Don’t do that!” You couldn’t help but stomp your foot on the ground, “I could have hurt you!”

“Did you just stomp your foot? Are you throwing a tantrum right now?” You helped Chekov off the ground and you noticed how he had been grinning the entire time.

“How am I supposed to get any peace on this ship when I have a gaggle of men I have to constantly keep from killing themselves?” You feigned anger and dramatically threw your hand back to your forehead.

“Well, who else would keep us in check if we didn’t have you?” The puppy dog eyes from both Sulu and Chekov broke past your resolve and you pulled both of them into a hug. Kissing both of them on the top of the head before pulling away.

“Who’s gonna take care of you when I’m gone? I’m 25 now, in my prime, someone could wife me up right now and I’d be whisked away in a flurry of love and babies.” You watched the horror spread over their faces and you couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself.

Chekov quickly dropped to one knee and you couldn’t help the feeling of embarrassment that filled you, a pit in your stomach forming and even with the threatening look on your face, the ensign didn’t move off the ground, “Well, if you’re going to get married, I think we both,” he paused and nodded at Sulu who couldn’t help the comical smile on his face as he stared at the scene unfolding in front of him. “Would prefer if you did get married that you wouldn’t be whisked away from us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the first real laugh you had experienced in weeks, and soon you were laughing so hard you had tears pricking at the back of your eyes, “You’re really taking marrying up to a whole new level,” you dropped into a squat, resting your body weight on your balls of your feet as you got within eye level of your friend, “You’re drunk Chekov, you wouldn’t remember this in the morning if you wanted too.” You gently pushed on him back by his forehead, as you expected Chekov, who was extremely drunk for this early in the night, fell backwards. What you didn’t expect was him flailing, grabbing you, and throwing you down the stairs from the bar after him.

Everything that happened next was in fast forward as a group of people were on both of you, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment. As swiftly as the embarrassment settled, the overstimulation was sudden and you were going to freak out. There were too many people, people were trying to touch you, some trying to help you up, and everyone was speaking at once. You closed your eyes, you could feel an ache in your head, and something warm in your hair. You could hear James shuffling through the crowd, using his captain's voice to part the sea of swarming people.

“(Y/N) are you okay?” You were lifted to your feet, wincing as he put pressure on your shoulder. James instantly repositioned the way he was supporting you. You quickly looked around and saw Chekov, he came bounding over to you as soon as you were up.

“Chekov, are you okay?” You reached up and started inspecting him, which earned you a laugh.

“I just tucked and rolled!” He spun in front of you as if to prove his point.

“Yeah,” you suddenly noticed the pain in your shoulder was growing, “Wish I got a heads up,” you couldn’t help but laugh with the ensign and you rested most of your weight against your longest known friend.

“(Y/N) you’re bleeding. From your head. We gotta go.”

You looked up at him, trying to pull your best puppy dog eyes through the growing pain, “But James, it just got fun!”

“Remember when you said that after your commissioning?”

You groaned, you had been trying to forget about that night since it happened, you got drunk. Totally wasted with James at a surprise party he threw for you , cheering you on and even challenging you to go shot for shot. You fell off the second story balcony, thankfully into bushes, but nevertheless walked away with a concussion and a pretty nasty bruise that consumed most of your lower back. “Fine, let’s go.”

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

Jim regretfully walked you to med bay, he wondered if this is what he put Bones through everytime he got sick or injured, “What is going on with you tonight?”

“I really don’t want to go to med bay and I really really don’t want to see Leonard McCoy.” You automatically imitated the grumpy doctor, even furrowing your brows like he would.

“I thought you two were friends?” What had he missed, the last time Bones had talked about you, he thought the two of you had something, it was the most he had seen his friend smile in, well, the entire time he had known him.

You bellowed a dry, sarcastic laugh, “Yeah, me too.” You looked away from him, suddenly more interested in the floor than the conversation you were having, “I thought we could have been more,” you whispered under your breath.

Jim stopped walking, turning your head so he could look you in the eyes, “(Y/N), Bon- Leonard is a complicated man. He doesn’t always know what’s best for him right away. Even when the best thing to happen to him is right in front of him.”

You shook your head, trying to break the look Jim was giving you, “No, it’s my fault. I thought he was going to kiss me. I read the signs all wrong, and now he hasn’t talked to me in 16 days, and now I’ve ruined a perfectly good friendship.”

Jim wiped away a tear that started sliding down your cheek, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You gently sobbed into his chest, trying to be quiet in the corridor with a few people still bustling around you. His heart breaking at seeing you this heartbroken. He had been there for other break ups, most of the time you rationalized it, even to him.

‘It wasn’t meant to be’ was after Chandler, a snotty rich kid who tried desperately to buy his way into your pants. He tried using his dad’s rank to intimidate you, trying to use the power of someone else to make you do what he wanted. Even after you had broken things off, there were some nights you would still sleep on Jim’s couch, afraid to go back to your dorm. He wasn’t a problem for you much longer.

“She just wasn’t the one,” was after Savannah. Someone who you remained in contact with to this day. You were there when Savannah got her dream job, she thanked you in her speech when she graduated top of her class, and most importantly you were her daughter’s godmother. Every shore leave, every break from school, you made her and her family one of your top priorities. Jim had even seen you leave study groups or parties just to go spend time with her.

“My soulmate is still out there,” Was after Ashton. It had been a few years, Jim thought you guys were happy, but then came the inevitable. You stormed into his apartment, not even bothering to knock as there was nothing Jim was going to be doing that you hadn’t seen at least once already. He was married. You were humiliated, you didn’t go out unless you were going to school for weeks. Beating yourself up for not knowing. Jim had to remind you countless times that it wasn’t your fault, you had no idea of knowing that this man was married, hell Jim even did digging of his own after things got serious and he couldn’t find anything.

He couldn’t help the look of pity he gave you as you pulled yourself out of his chest, wincing at the pain as he released you. “Whatever happened to the girl who could rationalize these things? Your other half is still out there,” he said softly.

More tears welled up in your eyes. You shook your head again, more violently this time, as if trying to shake the tears away. He couldn’t help but empathize with your sorrow. He would have put the pieces together himself if you had given him time, but you spoke again. “James, he is the one. And now he won’t even look at me.”

Jim’s eyes widened in disbelief. Never in the entire time of knowing you did he think you would ever say those words. It was supposed to be the two of you, lone wolves for the rest of your lives. “You really love him, don’t you?” he asked, pulling you into his side. You nodded, and he kept his arm around your ribcage for support, careful to avoid putting pressure on your shoulder. “And you should probably try to stop crying before we walk through that door.”

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

Walking into med bay, you couldn’t help but feel mortified at how you must look. You could feel the blood in your hair even more now, and you couldn’t even bear to lift the arm with the damaged shoulder. Not to mention how the makeup you wore for the night probably looked after you cried into James’s chest. You quickly glanced at him, stifling a laugh as you pointed at the mascara stain on the dress shirt he was currently wearing.

“You think that’s funny?” You watched as he dramatically tried to wipe the makeup off his shirt. “Ya know, this better win me some brownie points.”

You laughed harder at the comment, “Speaking of brownie points, I promised the ensign who asked me to the party that if he helped me make Leonard jealous I would put in a good for him with you.” You couldn’t help the dreamy smile that fell on your face just mentioning him, “Then he said Spock was an asshole and now I think we should just shoot him out into the void of space.”

“I forgot how mean you get when you drink.”

“Who else do we have tonight?” You didn’t want to turn around, the southern drawl in his voice was something you didn’t even notice how much you had missed until this very moment. You wanted to cower behind James, you wanted to run and hide. You wanted to beg James to turn around and patch you up in your quarters. Before you could speak, James did.

“Well, I decided to throw a party and things got a little out of hand. The Lt. Commander was practically thrown down a flight of stairs. I think they have dislocated a shoulder and they’re bleeding. From the head.”

You couldn’t stop yourself when you jabbed an elbow into his ribcage, pushing through the pain to let him know how you felt, “I’m fine, I just hurt a little bit.”

James poked you in the shoulder, using the littlest bit of pressure, causing you to rear back and stifle down a groan of pain, “You asshole!”

You didn’t miss the sigh or the eye roll from the handsome doctor in front of you, and now you were pissed. You were trying to have a good time tonight, and yet absolutely no one was able to take him off your mind, and now here you were, standing in front of him, looking like a complete mess, “Listen, you obviously don’t want me here, and quite frankly I don’t want to be here, so if you could just put my shoulder back in place so I can go away, that would be great.” You sighed before turning away from them and finding the closest open bed, “Stop looking at me like that James, I can feel your eyes in the back of my head.”

You couldn’t hop onto the bed without jostling everything that hurt, so you chose to plant yourself in one of the visitor chairs beside the bed. Your head resting back against the wall, closing your eyes and trying to prevent the tears trying to escape, the pain now moving toward the range of extreme and you finally touched your head. Pulling it away to inspect your fingers, there was the blood now sticky. You sighed, annoyed with the fact that showering after tonight was going to be hard.

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

Leonard pushed through the privacy curtain and for a couple of moments he just looked you over with his eyes. Jim had told him what happened. The thought of Chekov proposing, no matter how fake, seemed to enrage him. The thought of you with any man did that to him, not to mention the blatant flirting in the mess hall the other day. He wanted to track down the ensign who asked you to the party down, give him a piece of his mind. He wanted to let the ensign know that he shouldn’t be hitting on his woman.

But you weren’t his, were you? Jim let him know about the conversation in the hallway, how you cried after telling him how long it had been since he had been icing you out. Has it really been 16 days? Jim told him he needed to fix it. Leonard wasn’t sure he could. How would he even go about letting you know that the only reason he was acting this way was so he didn’t break your heart. He was damaged, and had too much baggage for someone as sweet as you. He didn’t want to ruin you.

Looking at you now though, past the injuries of the night, Leonard realized that his way of trying not to cause you any harm was actually doing the most harm. Your eyes were closed, but still slightly puffy and tear streaks had etched their way onto your cheeks. The blood in your hair now drying and matting your hair together. From just looking at your current posture he wasn’t too concerned with any broken bones, but he suspected Jim was probably right about the dislocated shoulder.

He cleared his throat to get your attention, watching closely as your eyes slightly opened. He didn’t miss the glimmer in your eye as you finally looked at him, and when you held his gaze Leonard let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. The need to be close to you reared its head again and it took all of his self control to not sprint the short distance to you. He sat on the med bay bed so he was closer to eye level. He didn’t really know what to say.

“Hi,”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open at his opening line choice. “Hi? Are you fucking kidding me? Hi?” You threw your good hand in the air, wincing from the sudden change in posture, as you whisper screamed at him. The both of you knew there was an extremely high chance Jim was trying to eavesdrop on the two of you.

“What else am I supposed to say?” Leonard almost couldn’t believe himself, who says hi?

“Maybe, I’m an ass for not talking to you for 2 weeks but let me stitch up your head.”

“I am sn sss.”

You huffed, sitting up straighter, “Or maybe, it looks like your shoulder is dislocated, let's get it back into place and get you out of here.”

“If that’s what you want me to do.”

“Of course I want you to fix me! Why else would I drag myself down here?”

So you wanted to fight, Leonard could do that, “Oh, so you have to drag yourself down here?”

“Right now, yeah? I literally have no other choice!”

Leonard wanted to smirk, “So you only wanted me because you had no other choice?”

You gasped and looked at the ground, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Leonard stood, grabbing the PADD he had with him, “I’m not the one who said it.”

“Yeah, and I’m not the one who made me fall in love with you.” Leonard froze, just barely able to hear you, you had dropped into a barely audible whisper. Leonard didn’t know if it was from fear of saying it outloud or hoping he wouldn’t hear it.

“Yeah, well what are you going to do about that?”

He watched as your head snapped up, and if looks could kill Leonard was sure his head would have exploded right then and there, “You’ve obviously already made your choice, so maybe just get me the hell out of here and transfer my care to someone else. That way you'll never have to see me again.”

He sighed, not really wanting to do this now, but it looks like he was going to have no other choice, “(Y/N)-”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it, now please, just fix me enough so that I can go back to my quarters and shower, I need to get this blood out of my hair.”

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m serious-”

“If you would shut up you would know that I’m in love with you too!”

Leonard had never raised his voice at you before, and the look on your face made him regret it instantly. He crouched in front of you and cradled your face in his hands, “I am so head over heels for you Darlin’” He looked into your eyes, searching for anything other than the rage they currently held, “It scared me. That night in your room, when I saw the way you were looking at me, I knew. I never wanted anyone to look at me the way you did. I panicked. I ran and hid, hoping that if I just pushed everything down for long enough then-” He sighed again, his breath feeling like a cotton ball in his throat.

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

You were pissed. Angry at Leonard for ignoring you, angry that you were in med bay, angry that Leonard wouldn’t shut the fuck up. You were trying so hard to move past the feelings you had for him, but you always seemed to end up right back in front of him.

“Why?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from moving, even though in this moment you desperately wanted him to shut up. You could hear how tired he was, making the southern accent more prominent, making your heart swell.

“Well, I’m broken. Told Jim that Jocelyn took everything in the divorce. All I got is my bones.”

“So that’s where the nickname comes from? James tries so hard to call you Leonard to my face, like the nickname is a secret or something.” You could feel the way he looked at you, choosing to focus on the nickname instead of anything else he just told you. “Leonard, we can continue this conversation later, but my shoulder really hurts. Please help me.”

Leonard helped you onto the bed, and slightly straightened you up. “Um, I need to take your shirt off, I need to see-”

You couldn’t help but blush. You had thought this before, not in this context. Your fantasies usually revolved around his office, in the shower, maybe you thought about you and him in the greenhouse once or twice, but never like this, “I’m gonna need some help with that.”

Leonard slowly pulled your arm out of the sleeve, and you almost thought you could see him shaking, “Len, I’m not made of porcelain.” You could hear him release the breath he was holding, his thumb dancing over your wrist. Soon enough you were topless, you could see a bruise forming. Your shoulder felt so wrong. You almost couldn’t describe it. It felt taut like it was being pulled, but you felt like you had no control, you couldn’t shrug if you tried.

“This is gonna hurt, according to these scans not only is your shoulder dislocated but you have a torn AC ligament.” He laid you down, placing your arm down over the edge of the bed, and quickly pulling your arm into a 90 degree angle, while rotating your arm. You felt the relief as you heard your shoulder pop back into place. Then the hypo, and if your shoulder still didn’t throb a little you would have hit Leonard.

“That’s gonna help with the pain and swelling, and this one,” He stabbed you again, “Is gonna help with that ligament, but you cannot lift anything heavier than 15 pounds until I clear you, and because this can still affect your range of motion, we’ll still have to keep a close eye on it. Usually for a dislocated shoulder we would recommend a sling, but we’re going to need movement if you want to be able to maintain your current quality of life.”

“Okay, and the treatment plan?” You sat up and gingerly pulled your shirt over your head.

“Well the fact you were able to do that is a good sign.” He took a step back from you, “Stand up and hold your arms directly out in front of you,” You did, your left arm not reaching quite as high as your right hand, “Now out to the side,” again, the left shoulder not quite as high. “Drop them to your sides and shrug,” You almost couldn’t. Trying with all of your might to move your left side up to your chin. The smallest inch of movement had you content.

“4-6 weeks,” Leonard smashed the contentedness. “I know, it seems like a long time, but (Y/N) losing range of motion for your line of work would hinder you in more ways than one. Even with the medicine we have, we can only speed up the human body's healing time by so much. If it was any worse I would have said 8.” He took a step closer to you and took your hand in his. “Now stop pouting and let me check your head.”

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

It had been 3 days since the last time you had seen Leonard, the longest amount of time the two of you had gone since that night in med bay. You had even spent the night once or twice. However, this time you weren’t anxious about it. He didn’t consume your thoughts like before and for the first time in weeks, you finally felt like you were back in your groove. You were on the last 2 week stretch of desk duty, and not surprisingly you were spending most of the time following Spock around, or wandering around the greenhouse, trying to politely remind people that your way was the right way and you were actively writing the protocol for this.

However, right now you were moping. Looking like someone ate your candy and you couldn’t help it. Everyone who you could bother during the day was gone. A new planet, going where no man has gone before, or whatever the excuse was. You just knew you were bored and there was no one around to entertain you. You soon found yourself wandering to med bay, hoping that you could catch a moment alone with Leonard. You waved at the nurse sitting at the desk, before making your way to Leonard's office. You knocked on the door and when you didn’t hear a response you slowly opened the door.

Stepping into the office you glanced around, it was empty. You frowned even more, wanting to fold your arms over your chest and huff. You made your way back to the desk and faced the nurse. “Where’s Dr. McCoy?”

“The captain asked him to join the team going down the surface today.”

“Oh, okay. Can you let him know I stopped by? He wanted me to come down for a follow up.”

The young boy sitting behind the desk smiled at you and straightened his posture a little, “Yeah, can I get a name? Lt. Commander (Y/N). Thank you.” You smiled back before heading back out into the hallway.

Back in the greenhouse you couldn’t stay focused, wanting to wander and more than enough times trying to sneak in and help with the rearranging currently going on. Every time someone caught you and every time they threatened to tell Spock. Eventually you conceded, holing yourself away in your office. You couldn’t help the way you stared off into literal space. Not being able to keep your mind busy with anything work related, you decided to give up. You pulled out your PADD and started drawing. Focus every bit of [ent up energy into the smallest details on the pages…

Just wanting something to keep you busy. And you were now in a field, it looked like home. Yellow dandelions and honeysuckle sprouting up everywhere, you could feel the cool grass beneath your toes. The wind was warm and steady. The sky was cornflower blue and white wispy clouds were scattered throughout. You finally felt calm. You closed your eyes, trying to breathe in the moment. A hand grasped yours, you looked over and there he was. The man who completely consumed your dreams. You could see it. This is where you spent most of your time, the space you went to in duress.

The image shifted, now you were in a house. Your mom’s home. It smelled exactly as you remembered. You heard the kettle on the stove and made your way to the kitchen, laughter floated through the air. The kitchen now in view, your mom was now at the counter, filling a group of mugs that sat on the counter. Behind you at the kitchen island, stood Leonard, chopping vegetables and bantering with your dad.

The image rippled behind you, changing the scenery and you were still on earth, but this was your home. The place you started and the place you would end. When you decided to move to Washington, James helped you. Packed only what you needed and took the road trip with you, only along for the memories. Your homestead spread before you. Your eyes automatically drifted to the chicken coop. Leonard was there, several of your hens grouped around his feet as he spread bird seed for them.

“I don’t think chickens would be that big of a fan of me,” You jumped as Leonard made himself known behind you. You slowly made your way to him, suddenly anxious about the interaction, “I heard you were looking for me?”

You almost forgot, you laughed to yourself before explaining, “Yeah, it wasn’t anything important. I was bored, and both James and Spock were gone! I can’t do anything with this damn arm and I needed stimulation. I didn’t know James stole you too!” You lightly hit him in the chest and scowled, “I thought we had a rule.”

The doctor suddenly looked bashful as he stared at your feet, “There was an exception to the rule,” From behind his back, he revealed a plant. It looked like a venus fly trap, but it was maroon. “ “It looks like dionaea muscipula, but I’ve never seen one this color. Or as large.” You gently cradled the propagate in your hands, breathing gently as you inspected it. “Usually 10cm is the largest they get. This one could be significantly bigger.” You finally looked up at him, tears slightly welling up in your eyes, “Thank you,”

Suddenly you were surrounded by him. His hand on your face, his smell swirling around, and most importantly his lips on yours. They were soft, a complete contrast to the finger grazing over your cheek. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as you leaned into him. He wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you against him. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his chest against yours, you swore your breathing was in sync.

Leonard pulled away first, deciding that air was actually a vital part of his plan to have a future with you. He rested his forehead against yours, placing a chaste kiss to your nose, “Maybe I can get used to the chickens.”

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

Leonard practically dragged you out to the turbolift. Only giving you a split second to stop by the greenhouse to drop off your new favorite thing. Surprised you were able to make the short ride to his quarters without your hands all over each other. He held your hand the entire time and you couldn’t help but notice how opposite the two of you looked. Leonard with a determined look taking over his features, he was desperate to be alone with you and he couldn’t stop bouncing as you waited to arrive at the correct floor. You, on the other hand, looked completely love drunk. Still reeling from the kiss, just happy to be near him and along for the ride.

He pulled you down the hallway and you did everything you could to stay on your feet as you tripped after him. He turned back to look before picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder and he resumed his pace. You let a giggle fall out of you, hanging over his back, staring at the floor. He hummed in response, and you couldn’t help but shake your head, knowing he couldn’t see you, deciding to keep this to yourself. He stopped, arriving at his door, and soon you were in the darkness and privacy of his personal space. The room is familiar in the dim lighting from the late night visits that happened occasionally. He continued, moving to a space you had never seen before, his bedroom.

You couldn’t help the flurry you were feeling in your stomach, suddenly aware of everything around you. Taking in what the room looked like, you could definitely see Leonard in the space, it was nicely decorated. The sheets looked soft, a rich phthalo green with matching comforter. The night stands were simply decorated, with a single light on each, one of them holding a photo of he and James at the Academy. The rest of the room had small trinkets, and a couple of dirty clothes were sitting on a chair in the corner. What really caught your eye was the small purple succulent sitting on his dresser.

“You put him on your dresser?” You couldn’t help but ask, knowing he would know exactly what you were talking about. The succulent was your first surviving propagation of its kind. You had affectionately named him ‘Jim’.

“Yeah, I brought him home that very day. I’ve been following all your rules. Even had Scotty set me up special lights so the little could get the effects on sunlight.” He set you down on the bed and looked at you, before stepping forward and weaving his way between your legs, currently towering over you. You wanted to drool, you were sure this was heaven. He was kissing you again, this time deeper than before, his tongue already begging as you moved your lips against his. Ever so slightly you moved back onto the bed, slowly lying down as Leonard climbed on top of you. His hands slowly moved up your shirt and you couldn’t help but try and press your body against his hands. Trying to desperately communicate the need for his touch.

“Len,” you whispered and he looked at you. His eyes softened as he took in the sight of you, a hand coming up to cup your cheek, you couldn’t help but pull him into a hug, pulling him down until his entire body weight was on top of you. You couldn’t help the contented sigh that fell from your lips as you embraced this feeling. He felt like a weighted blanket on top of you, bringing a sense of peace with him as your breathing synced together, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too Darlin’” Your hands grabbed the back hem of his shirt, gently tugging and trying to pull it up his body, Leonard picking up the hints. Moving off you, he finished the job you were working on, before you sat up, allowing him to pull your shirt off you. “You’re gorgeous,” again you wrapped up in a kiss, and it was everything you had been dreaming about since you met him.

Soon enough, you were naked, your lower half dangling off the edge of the bed, Leonard stroking himself as he stared at you. You swore you could feel his eyes burning into your skin as he raked you over, looking as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your body, the adoration radiating off him made you want to cry. You couldn’t remember a time anyone had made you feel this way just from a look. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so emotional, but now you were worried you were ruining the moment. You saw Leonard’s face change as he moved toward you.

“(Y/N)?” He scooped you up, sitting you on his lap, his thumb brushing away the one rogue tear that escaped, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head and smiled, “Nothing, it was just the way you looked at me.” You turned around in his lap, straddling him. You slowly kissed your way around his jaw line, up to his ear before gently nibbling on his ear lobe. You kept your lips pressed to his skin as you whispered in his ear, “Now, where were we Doctor?”

You shivered as he gripped your thighs, you slowly hiked yourself up placing one hand on Leonard’s shoulder to keep yourself steady using the other to line yourselves up. You didn’t miss the way he bit down on his lip as soon as your hand wrapped around his cock. Slowly easing yourself down onto him, you slowly stretched down until your thighs were touching his, placing both arms on his shoulders as you gave a few small bounces just to adjust yourself. Adjusting your knees, you started rotating your hips while setting a steady pace as you started to spring up and down. Having to quickly adjust when Leonard dropped to his elbows, and you came with him.

He now had the upper hand, using one arm to wrap around your waist, keeping you in place, using the other to hold your chin, maintaining eye contact as he set a brutal pace, his hips almost smashing into yours. The new angle had changed and suddenly you couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips, seeing a smirk appear on Leonard’s face. “You sound so pretty,” He swiped his thumb over your lips and instinctively you slightly parted your mouth, “Say my name darlin.’”

You couldn’t help the heat that burned your cheeks, deciding to try and get back at him for the compromising position he put you in, “Leona-” You didn’t get to finish his name before his hips stopped moving. His arm is still locking you in place. You wanted to pout at the sudden loss of movement but didn’t have enough time as you were on your back now. Legs resting around his hips, his free hand now gripping one of your hips, as he slowly leaned in closer.

He adjusted the way he was holding your chin, he now rested your chin in the dip between his thumb and index finger, with each holding onto your jaw and adjusting your head to look at him, “I don’t think you heard me, what’s my name?”

“Dr. McCoy,” You looked at him through lidded eyes, eyes closing at his grip on your jaw tightened for a split second, before his hand on your hip pulled you closer to him. Settling a tortuous pace as he thrust into you, hiking your hips higher up as you started thrusting up towards him, desperate for more. He slowed down for a split second, a hand coming to rest by your throat. His fingers instinctively fell on your carotid.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Your heart rate seems pretty elevated,” He softly widened his grip, his hand now resting at the base of your neck.

“I was hoping you could tell me Doctor,” Leonard leaned down close to you, his fingers already slowly inching to either side of your neck, “Are you okay with this.”

You quickly nodded your head and wiggled your body, closer to his, “Yes Le-” You swallowed, avoiding eye contact with him, “Yes Dr, McCoy.”

He applied pressure to the sides of your throat, you tilted your head back, almost as if you were presenting your neck to him and you could have died hearing the low moans Leonard was placing in your ear. You hummed as your eyes drifted shut, and you could feel the coil that had been tightening was ready to snap.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you (Y/N),” He thrust to punctuate every word and there you went. You gasped and drug your nails down his back as your thighs tightened around his waist. Leonard released his grip from around your neck and pulled away from you, spilling all over your stomach. He was gone the next second, before returning with a warm wash rag, practically wiping you down from head to toe. You couldn’t help yourself when you settled down under the sheets, face buried in the pillows that smelt like him.

Leonard soon returned, climbing into the bed beside you and pulling you into his chest. Kissing the top of your head before speaking, “Are you okay? I know that got intense pretty fast,” His fingers were absentmindedly running through your hair.

You yawned, moving yourself closer so your ear was pressed up against his chest, his heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You nodded against his ribcage, “I’m fine. I’m great actually…and the ‘Doctor Thing’ is kinda hot.” You could feel his chest shake with a silent laugh and you yawned again. Pulling the blanket up to your neck and quickly falling into the best sleep you had received in weeks.

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

Leonard instinctively grabbed for you when he rolled over half awake in bed. He received no reprieve from the empty sheets, they were still slightly warm, and now he was wide awake. Scanning the room with his eyes, he couldn’t see you anywhere. There was something new on the dresser and he slowly made his way over to it. It was a note from you, and he couldn’t help but notice how elegant your handwriting was as it scrawled across the page. ‘I needed coffee, and you have none. Come find me if you would like a cup.”

Leonard almost seemed like he was on autopilot as he dressed and brushed his teeth, leaving his quarters with only his comm and a mission to see you again. He quickly arrived in front of your door, and knocked within the same breath, realizing how desperate he was to see you. Now you stood in front of him, in a white t-shirt. He swallowed thickly as he could see your nipples pressed against the fabric, noticing how the pajama pants you stole from him hung around your waist.

He noticed the way you were looking at him, eyes still slightly coated with tiredness as they scanned his face, he tried to remain as untroubled as possible, trying not to give any signs of doubt as he stared back at you. He had something important he needed to tell you. You slowly reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him back into your quarters with you. Leonard could smell the freshly ground coffee and finally took a glance around now that he was here again. Taking in more than just the photos on your walls.

He watched as you made your way across the room from him, back toward the espresso machine that sat on your counter, “Now how did you manage to pull that off?”

You looked over your shoulder as you giggled, “Listen, when it comes to Starfleet, I’m not dumb. I know that I’m a nepo baby and I know that I could have everything the easy way. I could take advantage of everything and everyone would let me. James could too.” Leonard scoffed as you started swirling and lightly tapping your steamed milk, “I know that my last name carries a legacy that I won’t ever feel I have earned.” You started slowly pouring the milk into a steel Starfleet mug, “However, almost everyone else thinks that just carrying her name is enough to give me the world. Spock knew that, he challenged me all throughout my time in Starfleet, and yes the age gap was definitely weird for everyone at first, but he sees something in me, something I never will.” You looked up at him as you started tamping your espresso, “Admiral Pike knew that. It’s because he knows me. I’ve called that man Uncle Chris since I could talk. He knew a pay bump wasn’t going to get me to leave my station. Especially to come to the ship he was the first captain of. So he gave me Spock, and a brand new espresso machine.”

Your fingers tapped on the edge of the counter as you bit your bottom lip. You grabbed your finished espresso shot, holding it up to the light and inspecting it. “I was a barista once, and I loved it, it gave me something that made me feel like me. The other people in the coffee shop didn’t know who I was, or if they did they didn’t care.” You were practically speaking into the counter as you delicately poured the shot over your milk. “My mom would have loved it. If there’s one thing my dad drilled into my head, it’s that I didn’t have to choose Starfleet.” You now held a bottle filled with a purple syrup. You steadied your hand as you etched a simple crosshatch pattern into the top of the foam.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said in med bay for a couple days now,” You quickly sanitized everything, exchanging steaming pitchers, mugs, and even the shot glass, “My mom, is the reason I do anything in this life.” He watched as you started your process over again. Moving at a slightly quicker pace this time, “She died when I saw 5. It’s been 20 years and yet her birthday still feels like my day of atonement.” Leonard noticed how you adjusted the amount of coffee in the puck and the amount of water, “My last relationship ended because he proposed, and then I found out he had a wife.” You couldn’t help but happily gasp as you finally watched the shots finish pulling.

“Just because you were married the person you, at one point in time, loved,” You were now steadily pouring the milk into the espresso that laid in the bottom on the mug, the stream of milk coming from your steaming pitcher couldn’t have been thicker than a pencil, “It doesn’t mean that you’re broken, and if you are, then so am I. And so is James. And Spock as well. Every single person on this ship,” You handed him the mug, “Is broken in some way, and it doesn’t make them any less worthy of love.”

You cradled your mug in your hands before sitting across from him, in a small armchair you managed to tastefully squeeze in the small living room provided to you, “I love Spock, and I love James,” you swiftly pulled your legs underneath you, “And I love you, Leonard. And you are worthy of love.”

You slowly took a sip from your mug, watching his reaction as you tried to keep a somewhat safe distance from him, it wasn’t every day you could pull that conversation out of thin air. You became somewhat concerned as Leonard stared at his coffee, after a couple more seconds he looked at you and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Do you remember the first time you ever came to med bay? The conversation we had?

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

Leonard couldn’t help but stare at the perfect white dot that stood perfectly in the middle of the carmel colored drink from the milk and espresso mixing together. He felt breathless. You remembered, this was the first time he had coffee made by you since he ran away. He swore he could feel his heart swell, looking at the act of love made right in front of his face. “And I love you, Leonard. And you are worthy of love.” He wanted to run. To move out of your eyesight, and if he could, out of your life.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t dare. You were here, why would he ever leave? He took in everything around him, trying to stifle his nervous system that was telling him to abort the mission. He swore he could see the flashing red lights in his vision. He finally looked at you and the room was alive and it was all because of you, you were the sunshine he so desperately craved. Like his own personal star. “Do you remember the first time you ever came to med bay? The conversation we had?”

“I remember the big three,” you softly smiled at him, and he watched as you took another sip from your mug.

Leonard just needed a little bit more context, for his own peace, to make sure the both of you were on the same page, “The big three?”

“We talked about how flat whites are your preferred drink of choice, we talked about ‘the deal’ with me and Spock, and we talked about how you didn’t believe in soulmates.” It almost seemed like you had a checklist to remember. Feeling quite pleased with himself that you seemed to be on the same page already.

“I never believed in having a soulmate. Not just for me, but for everyone. I’ve always thought it was crazy to love someone based on a mark we’ve had since we were born.” Leonard finally took his first drink, appreciating the warm, velvety milk that soothed his groggy morning throat, “The idea that you can’t love someone just because you weren’t chosen for them was always ridiculous to me. I’ve always wanted to reject the idea that someone should love me just because of a damn sign from the universe I had no say in.”

His gaze seemed more intense now, hoping you would know the gravity of the words he was trying to muster the courage to say. He was in this for the long haul, for the rest of his life. ‘The night I came to check on you I saw it. In the photo of you and Jim.”

You smiled at him and Leonard took a shaky breath, “Your mark is the dendrites of a multipolar neuron,” He watched your face morph as you brought your wrist to your face, gently tracing the lines with your fingers. Leonard pulled his arm out of the black thermal he was wearing, and for the first time, he turned his arm, and just below the crease of his elbow, was the finishing piece of yours, “I got the terminals of the neuron,”

“They look like plant roots,” You mused from your spot on the chair, now leaning over the arm of the chair to get a closer look, “Everything clicked that night,” Leonard stood, moving in front of you and bringing your wrist to the inside of his elbow, watching as your bodies and the image connected, “I ran away that night because I was scared. The thought of you being mine was almost too much to handle, then I saw the way you looked at me. No one had ever looked at me like that.” He was now holding your hand, watching as a slight blush consumed your cheeks. “You still look at me like that. I love you (Y/N), and the only thing I ever want is to be yours.”

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

You wanted to cry,you had been naked in front of Leonard before but now you felt like you had been stripped bare, you needed a break in this conversation. You could feel the heaviness in the air, making it hard to breathe. “People will say things about you Leonard. It’s happened before.”

“What? They’ll think I’m with you for the status?” Leonard puffed his chest playfully.

“No, that’s not what I’m worried about.” You straightened yourself up, now on your knees as you locked eye contact with Leonard, “You’re the CMO of the USS Enterprise, you don’t need my status. No, what I’m worried about is that you’re one of the youngest men I’ve dated, and that’s still a 9 year age difference.”

“Youngest? I told Jim they’d never let me speak at the Academy again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, pulling him in by the front of his shirt, “I’ll have you know I am a grown adult Dr. McCoy. With a fully formed prefrontal cortex. I think I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.” You were hovering in front of his lips when you saw a small smile make an appearance, a knock at the door pulled two two of you out of your reverie and you groaned. Pulling away from him and grumbling under your breath all the way to your door.

James was waiting, bouncing in place as he tried seeing into your room from his angle in the hallway. “Did Leonard give you his gift?” James bounced his eyebrows up and down at you.

“If you’re talking about the potentially giant venus fly trap then, yes.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“So, it’s giant huh?” A smirk cracking his face as he watched yours morph.

“I mean…” you paused, not knowing if Leonard wanted to tell people, before shrugging your shoulders as you fully faced James, measuring the air with your pointer fingers.

“Are you serious? Tell me you’re joking?” You slightly jumped as Leonard placed his hand on your shoulder.

“What are we joking about?” He yawned after he spoke and you knew it couldn’t have been any earlier than 0700.

“James doesn’t believe you have a big dick.” You laughed as Leonard suddenly stood straighter and seemed to tense up, you turned toward him, pulling him down for a gentle kiss, “James didn’t believe that we actually told each other how we felt.”

“Thank god you did because my next plan was to strand the two of you in a desert at night.”

“Goodbye James,” you briefly waved before closing the door and pulling Leonard into your bedroom.

#star trek #kelvin #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #leonard bones mccoy #mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #bones x reader

141 notes · View notes

aicosu · 2 months ago

Note

Pathologic headcanons? You mentioned having a lot of them

So fucking many I dont know where to start? Maybe with bigger ones? Then character ones?

The Town/Kin

- I actually played much of p2 first before playing 1 and then returning to finish 2. So I have a lot of attachment to the Kin, and Boddho and their pov.

-I think that Boddho is an empty nesting eldritch mother. That she either is like... Illuvatar from Silmarillion (from what my husbands told me) where she came or grew from earth and wanted to make specificslly humans, but made the worms and brides and shabnaks first at her version of the Valor, or their job is to prepare the world for her true children (humans). even as "excess materials" shabnaks excess bones, worms excess muscle, and brides excess blood. But she didnt expect them to grow out of their need for her. Steppe life does eventually evolve towards integrating with the settlement and she resents creations who can create towers to heaven without her. Hence plague. But again, boddho creates creatures who are individually sentient. Even some of the proto kin seem rebellious. So I imagine the plague too, is sentient with its own ideas and goals. Poor boddho seems a bit immature and frustrated that yes. Eventually, even the plague and kin will want to grow and elvove without her.

-or shes already dead. Love the dead boddho theory, thanks andrey stamatin. That maybe everyone who hears boddho is just hearing her talk from centuries ago cause shes to unfathomable and eldritch creature to speak to. Neat! I think it doesnt hold up in 2, since you see her (someones?) Heart beating but cool.

-i do think the proto humans have preferences but dont know what a preference even is. Theres obviously (in p2, i know p1 was more an obvious patriachal straightfoward thing) brides who prefer townsfolk and brides who prefer the steppe. There are worms who like the city people they make friends with, and shabnaks that feel fear but aspire to grow ans meet and learn langauge.

Daniil Dankovsky

-trans daniil just makes so much damn sense to me its stupid like its perfect. At first I thought maybe he was amab and experiencing gender envy at the women in the town, coming to a conclusion he's in denial of why he favors their company or feels a sort of kinship with. To me, women are to Daniil what children are to Artemy. His bound in 1 as the uptopians is eh to me, but yet anytime he is speaking with Lara or Yulia, even Aspity, there is a understanding, condescending, even familial, protective frustration he has thats so complicated.

-to me that works so well as his journey as afab. Only child. Born to a young dead mother and a military man who didnt want much to do with him.

-I imagine him pursuing college and medical school for a year before his father dies and he drops out to transition. Ive seen other fans of transkovsky say he invented hrt himself, but if I think about how medical was approached or even philosphized about in patho or the older days I think he approached it by killing singular nerves and doing invasive surgey. They werent super great at the hormone or brain level and its just more... danils style to think to himself "i will literally kill what i dont need or want" (and then wearing uterus trophies on his neck because he cant brag out loud)

-which leads me to my other headcanon that this secret invasive self experiments and his success at splicing himself gave him a bit of cancer or a debilitating "mystical" disease he refuses as mystical. While i do love daniil being pompous about defeating death just cause hes pompous, I also love the idea that he wants all his cake and flowers. He succeeded in defeating gender, birth, orientation, and now its making him die? How unfair. How horrible. No one will steal his time at finally being himself not even death.

-thanatica I see as a mask over that research, too. Cause he can not come out and show himself off to substantiate his achievements. The medical world would be too distracted by the social ques to care that, hey, I've stopped cell generation. I've propugated cells. I've made parts of a body grow that stopped in the womb. Its a breakthrough he cant discuss so hes hauling in dead bodies and reanimating skin with the same methods or stacing off tuberculosis with the same technique hes using to stave off his death disease and it give him all this internal, unvalidated, seething frustration that he cant just scream what a fucking genuis he is. (He does anyway but without that to back him up)

-I think he joins the military for a year or two and assumes the identity of a dankovsky son. And the military stupidly, weirdly, validates him in his identity but also hardens him the way war does. The way death does when you have soldiers dying on your medical table. Then goes back and finishes his degree before opening thanatica.

-i hc Daniil as a messy bisexual. I think pre transistion he was always attracted to women actually, and that also motivated him to a smaller degree of well, why not get married to a lovely lady. Why not be the head of my household. Why not conquer society and genetics and death and enjoy things I could not myself feel comfortable to portray, but want to covet.

-you know and he gets to busy to actually finally indulge in that and then gets to town on ghorkan and meets artemy burakh and is like, wait, no, stop, this isnt the plan dammit.

-but I do think also that's complicated when it comes to sex and love. I can identify aapects or a gradient of a sexuality to him. Not necessarily demisexual, but his identity and his mind can get in the way of desires or even, that it takes a specific amount of vulnerability that he avoids. So maybe it's trauma or his being on the spectrum. So in his journey of self-discovery, maybe he's been a lot of whatever "labels." I think so much of labels and identity play into his vast acknlowdgement of philosophy too. Why talk about sex at all if we arent also talking about society and death and culture and etc (que daniil stopping his one night stand mid sentence to lecture about the differences of breeding expectations in different economic structures or population.)

-I ship daniil with Burakh mostly, (stamatins and block too at times) but I also ship him with the Marble Nest bride at the stillwater, who I guess is like a projected OC of mine. (Shes a special model, one of the only ones wearing jewelry and also one of the only kin whose sweet to daniil? She also seems critical of her own culture "weddings are a sad thing for us". I have a million headcanons and ideas for them two, who I think he names her Theralydice (thera for theraputrix the assitants to aescluipis or healers, therayl for feral or wild, and dice for custome or law as well as a common form for femininenames) Something heretically latin and inappropriate and artemy shakes him stupid for naming a bride at all- "but how will I refer to the only reasonable one burakh") but I wont bore you with all that crack.

OTHER:

Sorry this has already gotten so long so ill just list random other stuff.

-I think burakh is a man of little words not cause he's shy or reserved but because hes very smart about his town. He knows that information and gossip spread like wildfire. And stating his ideas, thoughts, plans, TO ANYONE so plainly (as dankovsky does) means in another twenty minutes 6 other people might find out and stop him. It's in his best interest to act stupid and complacent. It's the best idea to shrug at young vlad and go "idk maybe" because saying yes or no would maybe mean making an enemy.

-I think there are two eldritch horros now one. Aside from boddho i think the mistresses are hearing something else out there in the ether. Same as those whispers to peter about building the polyhedron. Boddho from this planet or not, something in that void is wanting to come in and use her or the earths power to its own end. Town on Ghorkon seems like an open battery everyone wants to suck dry. And while the kains can talk a big talk about plans for nina or simon, I wouldnt be suprised if someone or something kicked their souls out and took over for itself.

-I 1000 percent think Aspity is the first outbreak in human form if that wasn't already established. But I also dont think clara is. But I do love the idea that it's possible to do. In the same way, maybe annaAngell occupies Willows body? Hmm.

-also all yes to everyone is just actually dolls, but then wheres the fun in hc-ing the world lore???

#pathologic #headcanons #theyre mine headcanons not yours please dont hate me you dont have to like them

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candy616 · 1 year ago

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Graves proposes to You 💖 (AI ASMR)

Graves will make sure the setting for his proposal is perfect and matches your character. It depends solely on your preferences and could be:

>A very sweet, private moment. Like there's nobody else on this whole world but two of you.

>A dinner and a movie, followed up with a walk through the park… And a picnic under the stars.

>A long walk on the beach when the setting sun casts a warm, soft light across the waves.

>A romantic place with flowers everywhere and a bottle of fine champagne. The place where you two have a connection with.

>A candlelit dinner, flowers and a kiss that never ends.

>A nice restaurant, your favorite dish, a big-ass bouquet of your favorite flowers on the table, the music is right. He makes sure you are totally relaxed, happy and feeling loved.

>He takes you on a vacation to somewhere you two have never been before. It would be a surprise. He'd take you to a beautiful spot, where the sun sets over the horizon, and wait for a perfect moment.

>A trip to a cozy little mountainside cottage where a fire burns in the hearth, to help keep the chill away.

>The most romantic place imaginable, like by a volcano in Iceland, or at a beautiful overlook somewhere… Maybe on top of a tall mountain in Mongolia, overlooking the Mongolian steppe. Something amazing like that.

>In the middle of desert, when the stars are out, and it's all quiet and dark. Just you and him.

>Or he can just say it to you holding you in your bed.

~Of course, the ring is expensive. Even if you don't care about things like that, Graves just wants to show how important you are for him. The most perfect ring for you, something that fits your personality, something you'll love for sure. A special kind of ring that makes you feel like the luckiest girl on Earth. A ring that puts a twinkle in your eye and puts the biggest smile on your face whenever you would look at it. The ring screams, "He wants you to be his".~

So finally, Graves looks you straight in the eyes, takes your hand. You feel like you are the center of his universe. He holds you tight and he says:

Transcript:

Alright, baby. I stand before ya with a proposition so heartfelt, it could cause the devil hisself to tremblee.

Ever since I first laid eyes on ya, I knew ya were somethin' special. There's just somethin' 'bout ya that makes me feel right at home. Mah heart has been yours since the moment we met. Yer laughter, yer smile, yer touch, and yer love, they've given me a sense of purpose that's beyond measure. Darlin', when I say I love ya, I mean it with every bone in mah body. Ya are the most beautiful soul I've ever laid eyes on.

When I'm with ya, I feel like I'm on top of the world. It's like all the pain, all the sufferin', all the heartache jest washes away like it never existed. I've fought some of the toughest battles imaginable, but they pales in comparison to the battles I've fought without ya by mah side, baby. Ah've seen the world and all its ways, and I've come to realize there's no one else who makes me feel the way ya do, sugar. Every single day with ya makes me feel like I'm truly alive, for real… Ya complete me, darlin'.

Now, listen here, love. It's high time we made this thing official. There ain't no one else in this world fer me but you. Mah heart belongs to you and only you. I found ya, I wanna keep ya, so… Will ya marry me, baby?

No, you know what? You and me? We're gonna get married, sweatheart. And that's not a question, that's a fact. I found ya, you found me. Let's commit, let's grow old together. You know I ain't bullshittin', right? 'Cause I gotcha and I ain't never gonna let ya go.. I see it in ya, I seen it since the first time we met. You and I knew this was gonna happen, ya know? I wanna be yer protector, yer shoulder to lean on, and yer biggest champion. Whatcha think 'bout that, darlin'? Let's face whatever the future holds together, as partners, as lovers, and as a team. I love ya, baby.

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

BONUS for gals who are into this. That was NOT my idea haha. I'm sorry.

Transcript:

Hell yeah, I'm serious. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I wanna put a ring on that finger, swetheart. And a baby… A couple of babies… A whole mess of babies in yer belly… And when we're married, ya can call me Daddy. How's that sound, darlin'? Let's do it. Or I'll be very sad. Like really, really sad.

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

This beautiful thing by @bellgraves inspired this.

For you, sweetheart.💖

#That one was oh so hard to make on oh so many levels 🙈#Three or four days #I don't remember #I cringed #but I'll never admit it haha #I need to sleep now #Call of Duty #Phillip Graves #COD #Graves COD #MW2 #MW3 #RVC AI

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fishyfishyfishtimes · 11 months ago

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I saw your mermaid post and as a fellow marine enthusiast: they could absolutely farm algae and kelp as staple crops. Kelp, for example bull kelp, grows extremely fast and almost farms itself. Algae is a little trickier, since it needs to grow on something-I imagine something like steppes or rice paddies, with large sheets of rock set out from which algae can be collected. Some more simple organisms could also be farmed, like jellyfish and tunicates, and of course sea cucumbers. I also think tubeworms would be viable livestock-just yoink them out of the shell!

Ah!! You know, I was thinking that algae (especially kelp) could be used as a stable food source, but I also figured that there should be another primary crop(s). But on further thought... all the different types of algae might just do the job. Some algae is already regularly consumed by people and contains beneficial vitamins and minerals, like spirulina! If only they were purposely cultivated to be bigger, tastier, healthier, faster-growing, algae would provide a varied selection of "leafy greens"! I really love the idea of algae being grown on rice paddy-like gentle underwater hills... the vast ocean and shallow fields of seaweed all around. Algae could also be grown vertically up to a certain depth, it would make good use of the very tall merfolk houses or underwater boulders!

....Wait, oh my cod. Sea grapes are a species of edible algae, with tiny grape-like balls. WHAT IF THERE WAS A DOMESTIC BREED WITH BIG "GRAPES".... LITERALLY SEA GRAPES.... Omgg

Uhhh uhhh anyway! I really like this idea of farming and harvesting simple animals haha. You just know bivalves are a regular source of animal protein along with fish thanks to their sessile nature! And tubeworms being harvested straight out of the tube!!! I wonder if the real things are poisonous in any way? Because a shallow water variety selected to have lots of meat seems like another good way to make use of sessile animals and possibly out of any skeletal remains of other animals. Sea cucumbers appear to be poisonous, but I mean, poison never stopped anyone from eating fugu! I can imagine it, a rare delicacy...

#thank you so much this ask got me thinking #merfolk #junkdrawertales #asks

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smimon · 2 months ago

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Hello I wanted to tell you about a song I really like, one of the more hopeful and memorable tracks I've heard - „Boję się” by Nosowska feat. Łona

It's a dialogue between a worried singer (Nosowska) and a reassuring rapper (Łona) and while the lyrics are amazing, the musical part is also really nicely composed. Here is the song and my attempt at translation below the cut as well as a short interpretation

youtube

The title: Boję się (I am scared)

(Nosowska)

I am so scared

That I'm a tree that grows frail

In a narrow slit of a paving slab

When I could have been a proud sequoia

I am so scared

That I'm a monkey in front of a TV

That they feed me sweets through the bars

When I could have been jumping from vine to vine

(Łona)

Uh-uh. What “slit”? What “frail”? When

The first statement already brings this significant fact

That there's a deeper instinct in a tree that

Has its roots in Szczecin

And the second statement, true, monkey, bars, true

TV from Orwell, candy from under a wardrobe, true

And the monkey is more of a gentle kind

But when needed, it can still bite hard

(Nosowska)

I am so scared

That all of this is not mine

That I'm getting dressed in someone else's feathers in the morning

That I'm living a life that's not mine

That I'm stubbornly loving you

That I love with my head, not heart

That I'm smiling although I don't want to at all

That I don't know who I am

(Łona)

Wait, goodness gracious,

Why this tone? Don't be so scared

Because you seemingly lost one detail along the way

That the feathers are someone else's but the outfit follows your own rules

And ain't this resilience your own?

You love - means he must be worth it

And there's no use of a heart without the head

So, for real, change the topic already

(Nosowska)

I am so scared

That I'm a horse at Morskie Oko Lake

Pulling a cart of asses uphill

When I could have been galloping through steppes

I am so scared

That I'm a singer in Poland

That I don't know who I am

That I will never learn and disappear

[prolonged silence]

(Łona)

Ok but just in case you don't disappear

Imagine how this draft horse

Suddenly rears and tests its teeth on the coachman

And starts galloping down the Krupówki street

Slalom with the cart, so for those in the cart it's a bummer

And soon they would be followed by a parade of Polish singers

Who suddenly speak in their own voices

And fear would fall out during eliminations

You like this vision? Then, bang!

It doesn't take much

---

Ok that was the song :) now a bit of interpretation

See how Nosowska's worry that she “doesn't know who she is” is repeated twice, in the second and third verse. In the second verse, it's stuffed between other worries, and Łona doesn't address it in his response, focusing on the other worries as they all seem equal so it shouldn't matter if he skips this one or another. But in the third verse, this worry is repeated and expanded.

It seems to be pretty important, and maybe Nosowska didn't accentuate it at first because it's a very personal thing, because it's double scary to get exposed like this. But now she repeats it, and after that a prolonged silence happens, triumphant silence for Nosowska because she seems to have “won” this “argument”, finally proving that it's a serious matter, that there is no hope, and that Łona can't possibly find a counter-argument for that so all that's left for her is to give up and stop caring at all.

So of course it hits so hard when Łona doesn't give up and keeps looking for positives. He took a moment break this time, maybe to think again about this worry, maybe it really is difficult. But if she cares about it so much then he has to look at it carefully, and he does, showing respect and care. And after his last verse, Nosowska doesn't lament anymore, doesn't argue, as if finally convinced that maybe things can turn out alright. And I think that's beautiful

#Youtube #interpretation #Polish music

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housedeaubemarle · 4 months ago

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FFXIV Write 2024 #29: [Extra Credit] - Souvenirs

For @escherstrange-ffxiv and her wonderful boys whom I am very fond of <3

Dearest Joshua and Izzy, I couldn’t wait to give you these, so I included them with all the other things I sent home. The Hingans call these padded coats ‘hanten’, and they are wonderfully warm, being lined with good cotton. These particular ones were handsewn by a talented tailor whom I chanced to find in Hingashi. When I said I was from Ishgard, she immediately picked up a hanten to recommend to me, which made me laugh – our reputation for ice, snow and dragons precedes us. The patterned one is meant for Izzy. The Hingans call it ‘yabane’, meant to represent the fletchings on an arrow. It is considered a symbol of good luck and determination – once an arrow is loosed, it aims straight for its target without diversion. The black jacket is for Joshua; I imagined you would look very well in it, with its silver threads sewn into the cotton. There are five different patterns sewn with the silver, all meant to bring good luck and strength. I hope they will serve in the coming moons as the winds grow colder. I send to you too a box of beautiful sweet delights I’d never seen in my life till now. Its name is ‘kohakutou’ – my hosts say it translates to ‘amber sugar’. I was served some with my tea a few suns ago, and I was enchanted. They look wonderfully like crystals of all colours, and the artisans here do a lovely job of infusing such sweetness that doesn’t overpower the tongue. Please share them amongst those who visit the community centre; I will be sure to bring home more if they are popular. I’m learning much here in Doma, and I am humbled each day by all that I do not know; it’s a good feeling, unexpectedly. Eddy continues to be a favourite at our inn, and I’m just beginning to be concerned that I may have to hire a new lady’s maid in Ishgard, despite all of Eddy’s blushing protests. As for myself, I have a newfound love for the horses of the Steppe (though I’ve not forgotten the Apkallu of La Noscea, Izzy; one day I'll get to see them in person and be charmed all over again). I fear my hosts may be getting tired of my requests to return to the Steppe to visit the Noykin for more opportunities to ride. I find the horses are only slightly slower than Chocobos when they gallop, and their gaits require getting used to, but they are magnificent creatures all the same. My first sight of their herd roaming the plains under the vast blue sky is something I will never forget. I daren’t imagine trying to bring them to Aldenard, as they are very much a part of their tribe as the Xaela themselves, and it would take far more negotiation and discussion than I could afford at present – but I hold out some flame of hope in my heart. Regardless of all my excitement, I confess to missing you all (I know I haven't even been away a moon - I am a spoiled creature). I am due to return in about two sennights, if all goes well. I hope you are keeping well, and that your days go smoothly. I’ve given Rem an earful for keeping news from me, so I hope to hear of you and from you if time should allow. Please also let me know if I may do anything or bring anything back for you from the East. Till I next see you, Halone bless and keep you all. Your cousin, Oudine. P.S. I think of how Wil might behave around the falcons here and it makes me smile. Please give him my love; I hope he enjoys the kohakutou too.

#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite #oudine de aubemarle #isillud de losstarot #Izzy I swear to the Fury #joshua de losstarot #she's doing so much for the economy of Doma and Hingashi #so much #she's supposed to be on a business trip but she's just there spending all the money they've made #but she's so *happy* doing it #I can't help it #the obaasan was pretty sad to hear she'd be leaving soon coz the 'ijin with the free flowing purse' was good for business

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paintedscales · 11 months ago

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By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh...I adore them...”

Good evening, Vasheden! Thank you so much for the ask. I don't think this one comes from a prompt list, which thank you! I really appreciate the interest! ; w ; /

I wanted to answer something that's been sitting in my inbox for a while at this point before I went to bed tonight. :'D This one has been on my radar for a while.

So...in my writings that I've been off and on working on, it was Estinien who got smitten first. After everything, and after their time meeting and understanding that they both buried the hatchet on the Steppe, it was Ghimlyt Dark for him. The way I have it framed in one of the drabbles I wrote is that he found Nomin having collapsed due to the Exarch's meddling at an inopportune time, and when he went to defend and whisk her from the battlefield, he was just...

Hm...

He understood that, as the Warrior of Light, losing her would have been detrimental to everyone. But as he was bringing her back to safety, he started having other thoughts. Like what if it wasn't just because she's the Warrior of Light? I'm saving someone who has just as much experience as I do, and can relate to the same things that I do... There was kinship on the Steppe, and then I think Ghimlyt and being so close to losing her in that moment was just that little click for him that was just, "oh...I don't want to lose her because I'll lose someone who understands me better than anyone else."

From there, for him, it just starts to grow. Not that he ever speaks up on it. I think Aymeric probably picked up on it when Estinien brought Nomin to him, though. Maybe. Not sure yet. I haven't really explored how I want to go about that.

As for Nomin...

It was while she was on the First. After remembering what little fragments and moments of delirium in Estinien's hold during Ghimlyt, and also being told that she was rushed into Aymeric's care thanks to him, Estinien lived in her head rent free.

Much like how I imagine Estinien, Nomin has also experienced the fact that she did reconcile and come to understandings enough with Estinien on the Steppe that it felt apt to call him a decent enough friend. It was a lot of dancing around similar trauma bonding, but bonding nonetheless.

On the First, she thought of him, she thought of him so much. Remembering being held by him and feeling grateful that he rescued her from getting killed by Elidibus. So when she came back from the First and she met with him again, just seeing him triggered that happy response. That tail flick. When that happened, she realized, "oh...oh... I actually do want to be with him. I want him at my side as much as I want to be at his."

And that was fun (not)! Because Nomin didn't actually know what to do with those emotions. I don't think Estinien did, either. So...I think both of them just shelved those emotions for later. Fast forward to Endwalker before traveling to Ultima Thule where they both confess to one another. :p

#questions and answers #user: vasheden #thank you ♥#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #oc: nomin tal kheeriin #estinien varlineau #estinien x wol #wolstinien #cinnamon ship

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mnkeethewriter · 1 year ago

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Mapmaking through Words

With the prevalence of bestselling fantasy worlds like Middle-earth, Westeros, and Hogwarts flooding the mainstream media, building a world from scratch can seem like a daunting task. Where does one even begin creating such a masterpiece, and how do you make it stand out from the hundreds already out there? Lucky for you, I live and breathe worldbuilding. I’m here to help you streamline the process and get your creativity flowing through prompt questions and guided brainstorming. Worldbuilding doesn’t have to be this impossible task. With the right building blocks, you’ll be making the dream in your head a reality on paper in no time.

With today's topic, let’s start from the ground up, literally. The most fundamental aspect of worldbuilding is, well, building the world. You can’t create a map without topography, just like you can’t write a story without a physical setting to drop your characters into. Nature is the very foundation that you will build everything off of, and it will ultimately affect the trajectory of your story. Imagine how different a story written in a bountiful farmland would be compared to one written in a desolate wasteland. With that in mind, I want to highlight and discuss our first prompt question.

What biomes are your world composed of? According to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, a biome can be defined as “a major community of plants and animals with similar life forms and environmental conditions.”

There’s much debate on how broad or narrow to categorize these communities, so remember the list I’ve provided below is just a fraction of the diversity this world, and hopefully yours too, offers.

Tropical Rainforest

Hot and humid

High rainfall with no dry season (50 to 260 inches yearly)

Greatest biodiversity in the world

Mostly composed of evergreen plants

Temperate Forest

Mild climate with four distinct seasons

Coniferous and/or deciduous trees

Taiga (Boreal Forest)

Largest terrestrial biome

Coniferous trees

Long, cold winters with little daylight (9 months below freezing)

Short summers (1-3 months) with up to mild temperatures (19 to 70°F)

Desert

Hottest biome

Extreme temperature swings from day to night (-40 to 120°F)

Little to no precipitation (Less than 20 inches yearly)

Tundra

Year-round permafrost allowing only low plants to grow

Dry climate (6 to 10 inches of rainfall yearly)

Below freezing except during short summers (37 to 54°F)

Little to no daylight in winter

Grassland

Transitional biome between forests and deserts

Various names/kinds dependent on location (plains, prairies, steppes, etc.)

Short and/or tall grasses with little to no trees

Savanna

Transitional biome between forests and deserts

Tree-studded grasslands

Warm climate with wet and dry seasons

Freshwater

Low salt concentration

Further categorized as streams/rivers, lakes/ponds, wetlands

Ever-changing biome

Marine

High salt concentration

Largest biome in the world

5 major oceans covering 70% of the Earth

References

1. Augustyn, A. (2023, January 13). biome. Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/science/biome

2. Moeller, K. (2013, July 19). Boundless Biomes. ASU - Ask A Biologist. https://askabiologist.asu.edu/explore/biomes

#writeblr #writers of tumblr #writing #writing community #creative writing #worldbuilding #worldbuilding tips #writing tips #writing inspiration #worldbuilding wednesday #biomes #nature

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cloudcountry · 11 months ago

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okay so like imagine xen or ig me is fucking around with a spell or something and ends up finding out

i faceplant into a pile of snow and am freezing my ass off because holy crap is this the southern steppe?? it’s too cold to just be a magical realm so i use a spell to warm up and just try to figure out where i am before some little gremlin full body rams into me and lo and behold it’s little baby montag (who im just gonna say is around 8 for this)

“oh my gods is that little lucio he’s so cute wait where am i then aaahhh he’s so itty bitty-“

then he like tries to threaten me or something because yk the scourge tribe and all but like let’s be honest he’s probably looking for adult validation that morga wouldn’t give him and i am very willing to dole out praise to him because he’s so cutie patootie

i try to lead him back to the tribe’s territory and morga probably wouldn’t trust me at first but i wouldn’t trust her either cuz she seems too strict and also because ive already grown too overprotective of him

i bet i could raise him better 💪💪 oh he keeps avoiding his chores? give him incentives to do those chores in a timely manner. he almost drowned in a river? teach him to swim???? he can’t fight a bear? DONT MAKE HIM FIGHT A BEAR!!

yeah :3 idc if morga would say im coddling him because maybe he’d grow up to not commit war crimes idk

YOU WOULD LITERALLY BE DOING THE ABSOLUTE MOST BY RAISING A BABY LUCIO CRYINGGGG XEN I WISH YOU THE MOST LUCKK

#xen <3

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hazelkjt · 11 months ago

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Just a bunch of dumb thoughts about Hazel I can't get out of my head

Clothing- Hazel prefers free flowing and/or non-restrictive clothing, trying her best to keep to her tribe's aesthetic while adding her own flair. Many in the Kha tribe do not adhere to only wearing the tribe's primary color, preferring and encouraged to express themselves and their individuality as they see fit; an aspect of civilizations outside the Steppe that the Kha integrated into their own culture. Whether or not the bright red her family wore is the Kha tribe's true color or simply the one her family chose to adopt, Hazel tries her best to incorporate red into her outfits as to always keep the thought of her home close to her.

Sleeping- Hazel sleeps on her back with her hips shifted to keep her from laying on top of her own tail. It gets numb if she lays on it for too long and the feeling keeps her up at night. Once asleep she barely makes a sound, her slumber deep enough to not wake up even as a rampaging Dzo is charging through the tribe's camp. Her internal clock is very precise however, as she's always up just as dawn breaks over the horizon.

Tail- Hazel's tail is exceptionally strong, owing to the much larger than normal size of it. Despite spending much of her youth touching it herself, she still gets a jolt of electricity shoot up her spine whenever she feels another person so much as brush against it. She can also have trouble controlling its movements when overcome by too much emotion.

Some examples are:

When sad/upset, her tail droops and the tip drags along the ground.

When happy/excited, her entire tail slowly sways side to side much like a dog's would.

When embarrassed/nervous, her tail begins to wrap itself around and down her leg.

When scared/surprised, her tail begins to curl upwards.

When angry, her tail droops like she is sad except for the tip, which is slightly off the ground and flicking back and forth sporadically.

Horns- Despite having an additional, smaller pair of horns growing from her forehead Hazel's hearing is no different from the average Auri person's. This is because these smaller "oni" horns (as she's had them be called by others in Kugane) are not hollow like the ones on the side of her head. Like her tail, Hazel's horns are also sensitive to anything else touching them, which is why she avoids wearing earrings and many headpieces almost entirely. The only exception is her fur-lined hat she wears while in Ishgard.

Reading- Hazel loves to read, but until she arrived in Eorzea she always found it a challenge. Often times, even after she grew into a young adult, she would have her mother Janis double check the words in the books she read as she often got them wrong. Turns out she has a case of premature presbyopia that was never diagnosed, and after obtaining a pair of reading glasses on her journey she never goes anywhere without them on her person. This saved her so many future headaches from forcing herself to strain over the letters printed on the pages of whatever she could get her hands on to read…but it doesn't save her from reliving the embarrassment of writing her name as "Hazel Kay" by accident for months on end.

Physique- Hazel's jet black scales and larger frame than the average Auri female led to her gaining the stares of many, many other Xaela of the Steppe, both from her own tribe and others. Most of these stares she could feel came from their bewilderment as to how she looked, though a fair few had some other thoughts about her. Many an Oronir tried their hand at claiming her as their Nhaama, Hazel's greater likeness to the Dusk Mother due to her darker scales being an extremely common comparison they all made. Hazel rejected them all however, as she too preferred the Oronir interpretation of the Azim and Nhaama fable and none of the suitors that took their chance felt like how she imagined her "Azim" to be like. Someone who could match her drive for knowledge as well as her strength in combat.

Parentage- Hazel's parents are Janis and Baato Kha, of which she is their only child. The two were always members of the Kha tribe and were infatuated with one another growing up. Following Eorzean traditions Janis read of in a book detailing the Eternal Bonding ritual, the two carved bone rings to symbolize their devotion to one another. Baato is a respected and renowned hunter for the tribe, earning the title of "Stonesplitter" after cleaving a Chuluu in two with one swing from his large blade. Janis was also a hunter for a short while before becoming a shepherd for the tribe, keeping watch over half of the flock of karakul the Kha raise. Janis is also fascinated by foreign literature and novels, having quite the collection in her and Baato's yurt that grows larger with each trip out to trade with people from outside the Azim Steppe. Growing up with a veteran and elite hunter for a father and a knowledge loving and ever-seeking mother, Hazel turning out the way she did is obvious to all within moments of meeting the family.

Hair- Despite her rough and tumble appearance Hazel takes great pride in her hair. She takes extraordinary care of it, always being careful when applying her red hair dye to the ends. She dyes parts of her hair red for the same reason she tries to always wear clothing with some form of red in the outfit: to keep her family close at hand. She keeps a supply of the dye stocked at nearly all times to she's always ready to reapply it when the color begins to fade. Hazel buys this dye from Calling Wind, an alchemist she met and brefriended back in the Azim Steppe. Calling was the one who, after making a deal with the Auri woman, allowed her to travel back with him to Eorzea after she found a rare herb that grows only in the Stepp to assist in his research.

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #ffxiv oc lore #au ra #xaela #hazel kha #lore dumping at its finest

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random-thought-depository · 1 year ago

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Refining my ideas for the bearfolk world some more...

I'm still basically going with my ideas here and here, but making some modifications:

I think I'll scale back the ecosystem-shaping aspect of the big grazers and make them more ecologically normal animals. They'd probably still be ecosystem-shapers to some extent, but fundamentally they're just another regular grassland animal. Hunting them was an important selection pressure in the bearfolk's evolution because for most of the last few million years the bearfolk world cycled between ice ages and high obliquity eras and during the ice ages much of the land area was open "grassland"/steppe, i.e. big grazer country.

Accordingly, I've gotten rid of the southern hemisphere grazer steppe continent. The bearfolk world now has only two continents, not three. I still like the idea of having a big "window into what the planet looked like in prehistoric times" region, but it's not going to be a separate continent, instead I'm going to make it a continent-size high plateau that's part of the main continent. I like the high plateau idea better for a couple of reasons. First, a continent-size high plateau is just a nicely weird alien landform, not quite like anything on Earth, so it gives the planet a nice alien touch. Second, I have some ideas for bearfolk history that would work nicely with the continent-size plateau set-up.

I've also changed how the seasons work to make the planet a bit more alien.

So, here's a description of the bearfolk planet as I now imagine it, focusing on the planet's present state and natural environment:

At present, the bearfolk world is in an era of low axis obliquity, moderately high orbital eccentricity, and higher than average atmospheric carbon dioxide. Axis obliquity is less than 10 degrees, maybe 6 to 8 degrees. Seasons are basically controlled by the changing distance from the sun between perigee and apogee and planet-wide, but the axis obliquity is high enough to also generate significant seasonal variations, which results in very different seasonal patterns in the northern and southern hemispheres.

The north pole points at the sun while the planet is at perigee and points away from the sun when the planet is at apogee. Thus, in the northern hemisphere, seasonal variation due to axis obliquity and seasonal variation due to changing distance from the sun are more-or-less synchronous and have an additive effect. Neither source of seasonal variation is very strong. Thus, the northern hemisphere has a warm climate with moderate seasons gentler than Earth's.

The south pole points away from the sun while the planet is at perigee and points toward the sun while the planet is at apogee. Thus, in the southern hemisphere seasonal variation due to axis obliquity and seasonal variation due to changing distance from the sun mostly cancel each other out. Thus, the southern hemisphere has an almost seasonless climate, with only a small warming at perigee and a small cooling at apogee (at least in the tropical, subtropical, and temperate latitudes; near the south pole axis obliquity effects may be strong enough to dominate orbital effects).

This results in the northern and southern hemispheres having rather different climates. Significantly, glaciers form and grow more easily in the southern hemisphere, despite its milder winters; cooler summers mean more areas that are near or below freezing year-round, and thus more opportunities for snow and ice to build up. Glaciers are more reflective than open water, rock, or green land, so once a glacier forms it tends to cool itself and its immediate surroundings by reflecting sunlight. This makes the southern hemisphere noticeably cooler than the northern hemisphere, especially near the poles and in mountainous regions. It's not a full-blown hemisphere-asymmetric ice age - the planet is too warm for that at present - and the northern hemisphere actually has more ice because there's a lot more land in the northern polar region, but the southern hemisphere has a noticeably less friendly climate. Topographical differences between the northern and southern part of the bearfolk world's main continent greatly enhance this effect.

The bearfolk world has two continents. The smaller continent is about 15 million square kilometers. The bigger continent is much bigger and is most of the planet's land area; it stretches from the north polar region to a point near the Antarctic Circle.

The northernmost area of the big continent is almost isolated, connected to the rest of the great continent only by a relatively narrow isthmus. Its interior is covered by a vast continental glacier, bigger than Antarctica's. However, being bigger than Antarctica also means much of its coast has at least an ice-free green fringe like that of southern Greenland, and there are several peninsulas that stretch south into warmer latitudes. The biggest of these peninsulas stretches into the northern temperate latitudes, into the latitudes suitable for agriculture. Though this region is technically connected to the big continent, in historical millennia it has tended to function like a separate continent, exchanging goods, ideas, and people with the rest of the planet more by sea than by the difficult northern overland route. This region actually had more biomass in high obliquity eras, when steambath heat in summer nourished strange deciduous forests in regions that are now buried under kilometers of ice; these vanished polar forests were a major crucible of bearfolk evolution (pity the present kilometers-thick glaciers make the fossil record of this region hard to study).

The rest of the northern part of the big continent is a fertile land, mostly forest, open woodland, and "grassland" regions, though there is some desert (the "grassland" is, of course, technically not covered by grass but by a structurally similar native plant). Most of the major population centers of the bearfolk are in this part of the planet.

The equatorial region of the great continent has a large lowland rainforest, similar to Earth's Amazon basin. But south and perhaps west of this forested lowland there is one of the bearfolk world's strangest landforms; a vast plateau more than a kilometer above sea level and more than fifteen million square kilometers in area, the size of a continent. Most of the southern part of the great continent is this plateau.

This vast plateau is relatively cool because of its high altitude, though the effect is less pronounced than one might expect because of how the cooling effect of high altitude works (the edges of the plateau tend to be cooler than the central regions because of this). A more noticeable difference is that it's rather dry, because the mountains, slopes, and escarpments that surround it stop much of the precipitation that might otherwise reach it. On the other hand, aside from its base elevation it's also mostly relatively flat, a tableland the size of a continent, and this means the rain-bearing winds that do manage to reach it can blow into the interior relatively unimpeded. The result is that much of this plateau is covered by vast "grassland" steppes, though there are also large areas of scrubbier vegetation and desert, especially in the northwest. Altogether, its landscape rather resembles a piece of one of the planet's ice ages.

A large peninsula of the great continent stretches south to a point near the Antarctic Circle; the southern part of this peninsula is covered by a continental glacier.

As mentioned, the bearfolk world also has a second, much smaller continent, about 15 million square kilometers. This smaller continent is centered on the northern hemisphere subtropical latitudes, but it extends into the tropical and northern temperate latitudes. It is rather arid and Australia-like in its western and central regions, but wetter and more fertile in its southern, eastern, and northern regions. It is more-or-less surrounded by a large archipelago. This small continent and its associated archipelago are actually highland regions of a bigger ancient continent that partially subsided to below sea many millions of years ago.

#bearfolk #my main SF setting

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bardtothestars · 10 months ago

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On Au Ra Horns, Scales, and Moulting

I personally headcanon that races like the Miqo'te and Au Ra molt and love to think about how this affects the two races as a whole, especially applying it to Akshay. A large chunk of this actually was written by me being brainrot about the whole thing at first, then built using xBlutkatze's Au Ra and Skin Care Guide after I found it later! As such, it is kind of a mashup of that hc and my own.

The molting process of Au Ra to me is similar to how a gator sheds (shedding individual scales periodically versus one large molt, oftentimes rubbing them off on rocks or hard surfaces), while the scales themselves are more akin to armadillos in material and texture (scutes, a bony layer in the skin covered with horn/keratin).

Au Ra horns, on the other hand, are not made of the same soft scales/scutes. I see the material as more akin to the casques or crests cassowaries have, which help with sound reception and acoustic communication. They are keratinous and hollow, allowing for soundwave vibrations to enter into the hollow inside of the casque and be processed and amplified as they bounce along the fine fibers inside. The horns also help to regulate body temperature, offloading heat at high temperatures and restricting heat loss at low temperatures. Because of this, I also imagine piercings to not pierce through the horn as other races have, despite how earrings appear in the game. Drilling holes into the horns would damage the fibers in the ear, and the vibrations from such a process would be quite painful. Additionally, earrings swinging around would make an audible noise through a hole like that and be really distracting. I personally think Au Ra would instead have metal clamps to attach them by, or, more easily, loop them around the horns.

I like to think that the tribes would have sweat lodges and purification ceremonies similar to many Indigenous tribes like the Chumash or the Aztec peoples. Botanists can get Steppe safflowers there which can be turned into a carrier oil to make into soap or used directly for molting. These oils can help to allow the scales to release and also remedy the cracked, tender skin left behind by lost scales. Also, things such as fatty fish and raw milk can help with molting as well, of which the Steppe has plenty.

Pumice stones or smooth river stones could be utilized to remove tough scales while inside a sweat lodge. I envision this practice as a loving bonding ritual within a tribe. Close ones, such as family or lovers, would be allowed to help in removing scales that are difficult to reach for an Au Ra on their own. I imagine it to be a bit awkward for Akshay to allow non-Au Ra to do this, but a sign of major familial love or trust.

In Eorzea, I imagine Akshay utilizing hot baths or saunas whenever he can to privately remove his own scales to the best of his ability, stubbornly refusing any help. The molting rituals he grew up with in the Steppe do make him highly adept at skin and scale care, though, and he often carries tools to help with shedding on him (such as pumice stones for scale removal and medical salves/carrier oils to help with cracking). He would also catch and eat fatty fish for himself to help his body molt- not that he doesn't already have a preference for it due to him growing up accustomed to fishing and eating the aggressive fish that are indigenous to the Azim Steppe

#akshay; trivia #ffxiv oc

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setaripendragon · 6 months ago

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People are leaving so much thought provoking stuff in the tags!

#it's a long time since I read HDM#but isn't there a canon story about a sailor with a dolphin daemon#who could never go ashore again?#the sailor with the seagull tells Lyta about him via @iztarshi

A dolphin! I was wracking my brains trying to remember if canon had mentioned anything like that. I remember there was emphasis on the Gyptians being sea-faring water-folk, but I couldn't remember if aquatic daemons had been mentioned or not ^^"

So, aquatic mammals definitely in, fish are still up in the air. Metaphorically speaking.

#I personally like to think of the restrictions as 'an animal the daemon and child know about and have seen in person'#because the daemon has to understand it well enough to transform into it#and it helps handle the aquatic/mythical/extant question very nicely#but I only read the first book years ago so via @planeoftheeclectic

I remember reading a... I think it was a Pride and Prejudice fanfic? Some Regency drama, anyway - where this was the case, and it was fascinating. Because, of course, most of the cast was limited to animals found in England, and there was a whole lot of world-building around how fashionable 'exotic' daemons are.

And it would have some interesting worldbuilding implications regarding zoos and such. They'd probably become much more culturally important. There'd probabbly be all sorts of pseudo-science parenting advice based around 'expose your children to as many different animals as possible to give them as much room to grow as you can. And... on a darker note, parents who try to control how their children settle by restricting them from places they might run into 'unsuitable' animals.

So yeah, loads of fascinating worldbuilding posibilities with that one, but personally, I find it... too limiting? And too hard to apply to 'verses that aren't 'Earth-but-different'. Like in Fairy Tail or Lord of the Rings. I suppose you could hand-wave with Lord of the Rings and say that it's all European and go from there (the Shire is rural England, Rohan is the Steppe, etc), but like... what animals would a person be likely to have encountered in Fiore? I'm not building a whole ecosystem just to justify my daemon choices! XD

#okay but what about animals people THINK are real?#could jackalope daemons pop up?#a large portion of people think they really do exist after all#do kids with cryptid daemons get teased by people who know better or gaslighted by people who “know better”? via @murderandjam

Now, see, this! This is exactly the sort of worldbuilding I like. See, going by my rules, which... I feel I should clarify are, like, meant to be the laws of nature in whatever 'verse; humans in whichever setting may not know that daemons have to be extant animals, so a european medieval peasant could potentially have a giraffe daemon or a komodo dragon and therefore believe wholeheartedly that 'mythical' daemons are entirely possible, because an animal like that couldn't really exist.

Ohh, cryptids. Now that's a... huh. Like in a 'verse where cryptids are real... then having a cryptid daemon would theoretically be possible... depending on how sapient your cryptids are. Are they people? Like, most of the vibes I've gotten from the cryptids I know about like bigfoot and mothman and stuff... a lot of them seem sapient, so, that would rule them out. But jackalopes would be possible. And there's a whole load of worldbuilding you could derive from that.

Like with the example of a HP daemon AU where people are able to have mythical daemons without knowing that mythical creatures are actually real, there probably wouldn't be any assumption that daemons have to be extant. There'd probably be a whole variety of cultural attitudes about it, from 'people with a mythical daemon are special and destined for greatness' to 'people with mythical daemons are maybe whimsical and imaginative but ultimately normal' to 'people with mythical daemons are disconnected from reality and probably mad'.

If you've only got a few cyptid style creatures in your 'verse, and assuming it's a modern-day earth-like world, then there could be a disconnect between the scientific community and 'common knowledge' where a scientist might see a jackalope daemon and go 'every other daemon we know about is extant, and we've even discovered species we didn't know were out there because of daemons, so what if?' but your average joe off the street would probably, like you say, mock or tease someone for having a cryptid daemon.

#I think there's one more question left to ask#which is: does it have to be a KNOWN animal?#can a daemon be a species of frog or salamander or something that the human doesn't know of?#or that NO human knows of?#are species discovered by a biologist seeing a daemon and going 'THAT does not EXIST except it must so....'#and then scouring the world for the actual animal?#if it DOESN'T need to be known to the human#you can get interesting scenarios (especially in historical or otherwise limited communication settings)#platypus daemon for a person in 15th century Europe#it would become the basis for a new mythical creature#and then eventually no one would know why some “mythical” creatures appear as daemons and others don't#not to mention the 'what if there's life on other planets' question via @firecoloredwater

Yes! I definitely prefer it not being dependant on what an individual person knows, precisely because of these fun misunderstandings that can happen.

Ooh, hmm... Like deep-sea creatures, my first instinct is to say that a people can only have daemons from the planet they're from? But then why not only from the continent they're from? Why should a desert-dweller be capable of getting an arctic hare for a daemon but not something from, say, tatooine?

Oh, this is... Huh, yeah. Like, in a Star Wars setting, would people be limited to... what? Only animals from the planet they were born on? Only animals from the planet their species is originally from? Only animals from the planet they spent most of their childhood on? I would think... if I was going to stick with my first instinct, I'd probably make it a 'only animals from the planet your species was originally from', with potentially a caveat for like... if humans colonise lots of planets and bring earth-animals with them and then wildly divergent animals evolve over time, then all of those animals are valid for all humans. Even if they've never been to that other planet with the completely 'alien' animals.

Yeah. I think... Despite the fact that there are limiting factors from continent to continent, planets on the whole are a whole 'nother level of completely distinct environments. Like... there are animals that can fly or swim from any part of the world to any other part of the world. It's possible, if very difficult, but... as far as we know, it's not actually possible to get from planet to planet without, well, what we would call sapeince, and even then, we still haven't actually managed to put people on another planet yet.

It also raises the question of sapient life other than humans. This is, honestly, one of my favourite favourite favourite worldbuilding tricks in a daemon AU, ngl =D If you're writing in a 'verse with multiple sapeint species (Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, etc), do they all have daemons, or is it just humans? And in a 'verse like Star Wars, if it is only humans, then how closely related to humans do you have to be to have a daemon? Like, there's a whole category of 'near-human' sapient species in Star Wars that only have minor biological differences. And then on the other end of the spectrum you have, like, wookies and kaminoans and besalisks and such.

And the cultural implications of having some sapeint species without daemons! I know HDM touched on this with Will not having a daemon at first and Lyra's reaction to it, but blowing that up to a bigger, cultural scale is just -chef's kiss- Do humans refuse to believe in another species' sapience because they don't have daemons? Do humans get treated like the Ood from Doctor Who, carrying their brains around in their hands? Are daemons used as a weakness to exploit by other sapient species who think themselves better for being 'less vulnerable'?

-happy wiggle- Culture clash is my jam.

#the spiritual implications of your daemon being a kind of animal you dont even know about is SO FUN#your soul sits in your lap and you cannot name it#daemon au via @mossiestpiglet

You! You get it!

So I'm still on this daemon AU kick, and I can't stop thinking.

What are the limits?

It's generally accepted that a daemon is an animal representation of the soul, right? So, you know, we've got birds and mammals and reptiles and insects.

But what about fish?

Obviously there's an issue here of, you know, environment, and if your soul literally can't survive in the air while you literally can't survive in the water, there's a problem.

But, hey, if it's small enough, you could have a little fishbowl for your daemon to live in. Hamster ball, but filled with water, rolling along at your heels. Fishtank on wheels that get tricked out like dudebros soup up their car. And maybe, if you're from a particularly sea-faring culture/lifestyle a water-bound mammal like a dolphin or an orca could make sense. And then there's things like sharks, which have so much symbolism attached to them that it seems a real shame to have to rule them out. (Someone who's particularly driven or ambitious having a daemon that would literally die if it stopped moving is a bit of symbolism I'm going a bit feral for, tbh.)

I think we have to rule out the deep sea creatures, unfortunately. Fishbowls and/or living on a boat wouldn't really solve the problem of pressure, and someone with a blobfish daemon would, uh... be in trouble.

And if we're talking about things that can't survive in the same atmosphere as humans, what about internal parasites? Like flatworms. I think it's safe to say that having your daemon parasitizing your intestine kind of defeats the purpose of having an external manifestation of your soul, but... There are species of flatworm that aren't parasites, so... do we just rule out all flatworms, or are the non-parasitic ones okay?

And speaking of flatworms, what about size? I've read some fun stories that deal with the issues that might come from having, say, an elephant daemon. It's not quite as dramatic as the issues of having an aquatic daemon, but actually, similar adjustments would have to be made to your living situation to cope. But, of course, it could be done and I don't think anyone's trying to rule out animals on account of how big they are, but I think it's safe to say that microscopic daemons are out for the same reason that internal parasites have to be.

There's a nice solid rule I can settle on; a daemon has to be a visible animal.

And, in point of fact, I think it's safe to say it has to be an animal. We can rule out trees and plants and even fungi.

So what about coral?

It's an animal, and if we are allowing for some aquatic daemons, then should coral be an option? Or are its vibes too plant-like to qualify? Do we rule out sessile animals like we ruled out microscopic ones? As much as I find the idea of a coral daemon absolutely hilarious, I am going to come down on the side of animals that are too much like plants are a no.

So a daemon has to be a visible, mobile animal.

But what about the ones that only move very slowly? I don't think we're ruling out sloths, but in the continuing vein of torturing myself considering various aquatic daemons, there's starfish and sea urchins and hell, even most bivalves can move at least a little, right? (Correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't done that research yet.) And there's a lot of fun symbolsim to be had, there, I think.

And what about extinct creatures?

I think it's safe to say that mythical creatures are a no-go, unless this is a 'verse where those animals are real, (oh, boy wouldn't that confuse people in a world like HP where most people think dragons and unicorns aren't real, but people still wander around with dragon and unicorn daemons) so we can ammend our rule to visible, mobile, real animals, but could we go so far as extant?

If yes, that would have interesting world-building implications. Where's the cut-off point? Can we rule out dinosaurs because we don't/didn't have enough information for a daemon to settle into a form that wouldn't be technically mythical? But then, what about animals that go extinct within human history? What about all the people who had mammoth daemons or dodo daemons as those animals were dying out.

Would conservationists study daemon statistics to see if an animal has really gone extinct? Would an animal's extinct status get over-turned when a kid's daemon settled into that form? Honestly, I like this enough that I've convinced myself that, at least barring some very unique circumstances, extinct animals are not allowed.

So, it has to be a visible, mobile, extant animal. That can exist in proximity to humans.

Oh, and should probably add; visible, mobile, extant, and non-sapient.

You can't have a human daemon, or an elf or a dwarf or a fairy daemon even if they exist in that world, and if this is a 'verse with dragons who're more than just exotic magical animals, you can't have a dragon daemon. (Obviously, if your fairies are more like magical bugs than tiny people, then fairies would be a valid daemon.)

...I'm still on the fence about whether a daemon should have to be air-breathing or not. That kind of rule would still leave marine mammals available for the fun world-building of how people adapt to that kind of handicap. (...Do you think people with aquatic daemons would be considered disabled? Oooh, what about people with really big daemons? I mean, presuming such a thing is comparatively rare, people probably wouldn't be building schools with a mind to allowing elephants or giraffes to wander the corridors.)

Disclaimer! This is for my own creative process, and not intended to limit anyone else's creative flair. And, honestly, I'd love to hear other people's takes on what does and doesn't qualify for a daemon.

#daemon AU #ohdeer #my post exploded #no but honestly this is so awesome #so many different takes!#I love it

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halfbakedspuds · 1 year ago

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Okay, this is my first draft of Chapter 1 of children of the stars. Constructive criticism is very much appreciated. Also forewarning, this is long.

Of Angels and Demons

The city was a grand symbol of Axidemir superiority on the planet. Grand, gleaming white spires of stone decorated ornately with vibrantly colured patterns both religious and commemorative made up the bulk of the city, gradually growing in height from the edge of the Mesa to the colloseum at it’s center, rising like a mound made by some monsterous insect which one dare not even attmpt to imagine. Green and blue could be seen everywhere by way of water flowing from the aquaducts into the streets themselves to feed plantlife that seemed to grow as part of the city, not just as another of it’s inhabitants.

They named it ‘The Capital’, for what purpose is there to give a unique name to that which there is no equal to? Had not the people’s of the two continents neglected to name themselves for that very reason? Neglected to give a name to their world? And enequalled it was, a city of seeming celestial origin that had sprung up through the hard work of a devout people, but that had also seemingly built itself throughout that same course.

There were tales that spread virulantly alongside travelling merchants from the Axidem homeland. Tales that conflicted but seemed to grow only more outlandish the nearer one came to the Capital itself. Tales began as far as the eastern port cities of the Szeraan federation: tales that spoke of the blessing of gods leaving a city for the people of Axidem as a reward for their devotion, that it was a sign that they were to be left alone; and tales ever stranger: of magic raising the bones of a giant out of the steppe to create both mesa and city, or of an angel appearing before their kingdom and handing down the sacred knowledge to create such as their city.

That last was perhaps the strangest. The Yman’ye, or ‘Angels’ (For that is the closest translation in the thousandfold score tongues of humanity) were meant to be portents of doom, silent messengers of the end times come to judge and reap the wicked, not benevolent beings who built cities and guided a once doomed and ensnared people into the borderline untoucheable regional powerhouse they now were.

On that day, the streets were covered in pink, citrus-scented flower petals cast to the wind by celebrants at the end of a war, a symbol of both the blood shed by the kingdom’s bravest and of the groundwork being laid for a better future. Those with partners (And much to the horror of the more conservative elders, some of those without) danced freely in the streets as music wafted up from every corner of the festivities. Flags were hung along the streets, representing the various kingdom Baronies: Hesta, Karev, Jessa-Kimlash, Tsen and many more, interspersed with the fresh-spun flags of the newfound baronies from the war: Kestin and Jezdeir chief among them for their direct service to the kingdom and open rebellion against the former Auxelian empire during the war.

In truth, Lyanni cared for none of this. She had been marched from Greyspire prison on one of the surrounding buttes through highway and farm-road with nothing but the accursed, incessent rattling of chains and the heavy steps of her fellow convict to distract her from the flaring pain of an ill-healed wound on her thigh. Her back and shoulders ached from the weight of the wooden board hung around her neck. The board that read her name and crime for all passersby to see.

She had grown deaf to the jeering crowds long since, focussing instead on the repetitive task of the last few hours that she had only been granted reprieve from by standing in an elevator to to be raised up into the city: simply putting one foot in front of the other. She was aware of the black armor and plumed helms of the city guards marching beside them, aware that the curve blades of their weapons would make quick work of her life. She focussed on the man in front of her: A man from Sarjak if his almost ember-red scales and tall, thickset build were anything to go by. He walked, almost waddled, strangely, like he was used to an untable floor..

Lyanni couldn’t quite remember what he was convicted for, but they had been cell-neighbours in the prison, and she’d held half conversations with him in either broken Axidemir or -on the days he had particular trouble with the language- her own broken, schoolroom Sarjakan. Still, she didn’t even know his name or crime, nor did she particularly care. By days end, someone in the convoy would been given as tribute to whatever general had made the end of the war possible, and the rest would be shipped off to mines or farms as cheap labour, with life-expectancies in the range of two years if they were lucky.

She found herself struggling with claws hitching on the ground as the smooth carved rock of the inner city gave way to the rougher flagstones of the outer districts. She chanced a look around at the extravagant buildings. They reminded her so much of the styles she had grown up among, yet they still felt alien, as if this were indeed a natural progression of her people’s architecture, but it felt out of place in their time.

She knew that up ahead a gondola would take them to the palace gates, and then regardless of the outcome, she would never again dream of freedom.

Suddenly, the Sarjakan stumbled over a stone and went down hard and audibly as the air was forcibly vacated from his lungs. A whistle went up from the guard to her left, and the convoy stopped. The rest of the convicts, like her, were merely relieved to be allowed to cease their march.

Lya walked foreward and held out chained hands to the stumbled prisoner, having to lean forward a bit as the chains around her legs pulled taut. The Sarjakan gladly accepted her offer and pulled himself up, and she chanced a read of his board as he rose: ‘Selmaa Jiirtem: Slaver, Murderer, Social discohesivist,” and Lya finally understood why he’d ended up in Greyspire. He was a right trouble maker.

He continued grumbling something in his tongue, “Kuurmahn sujesh il sentamaa…” then in broken Axidemir, “Thank to you, prison-friend, I…”

The smile faded from his snout as he read the board on her chest. What replaced it seemed at first to be a snarl of rage and fear, and for the first time since her arrest, Lyanni was glad that they were all in chains, for she was certain this man would’ve added another to his list of victims had his hands not been bound. She almost stumbled herself as he forcibly wrenched his hands from hers.

“Witch!” He growled, and spat to the ground, before turning around and trying to stand as far away from her as the chains permitted. His words seemed to energise those behind her, as she felt the chain tug in that direction as well, leaving a void with only Lyanni and her incriminating sign within.

That was her crime: A heretic who practiced the forbidden arts, a witch. Her reasons didn’t matter, nor would any amount of protesting that what she did was not witchcraft. Those in power had made up their minds, and unfortunately a mind was oft harder to change than an ill-concieved facet of a painting.

She heard another whistle from the guard spur the convoy back into motion, and began the newly awkward yet equally painful task of setting one foot in front of the other with the chains binding her pulled as taut as steel allowed.

She felt something soft and clearly rotten slam into her face, felt her eye shut instinctively from the impact. The wet and sticky substance running down from where she’d been impacted informed her that it would be a better idea to keep her eye shut. She kept her peace, ignoring it and just putting one foot in front of the next, walking on and on down the parade streets into the setting sun.

//////////

The gondola ride was peaceful at least. Once the entire convoy had been loaded onto the wood and clockwork transport, a guard whistled twice: once short and sharp and once sustained. The operator signalled to a worker who raised one of the ramps, blocking them off from the crowds.

Still, people stayed clear of her, as they were oft to do near a witch, as though heresy were contagious. She didn’t mind. They had placed her next to a railing overlooking the lush and verdant landscape of the farmland below. She saw the sleuces that dumped water from the city into canals far below. She didn’t know why it didn’t come straight from the aquaduct, but who was she to question the architecture of such an alien city.

She briefly felt saddened that this may be the last time she saw the outside. The odds were that whatever general would not pick her on account of her being a witch, and she doubted the superstitious Axidemir would want one tainted with heresy working their fields. That left the terrifying yet realistic possibility that she was doomed for the mines.

She briefly felt the call of the void telling her to simply throw herself over the edge, to go out on her terms surrounded by verdant beauty as she fell down, down, down…

She shook it off. Intrusive thoughts be damned, she was still chained to the others. Either their combined weight would leave her dangling beneath the gondola, blood rushing to her head as the guards tried to pull her up. That would most likely result in a lifelong work assignment that would make her yearn for the mines in comparison, and she shuddered at the thought.

The other possibility was that her weight and momentum would cause a cascade, pulling down two people after her, who pulled down the next and so forth until the combined weight of those falling overwhelmed the weight of those on the gondola; and that, she wouldn’t abide. She may not have seen what she had done as worthy of punishment, but if the hells were real, then suicide-assisted mass murder would not look too good on her record.

She straightened her back. Whatever came, she would face it with Jezdeir pride.

//////////

The gondola stopped in an underground hangar section of the palace that overlooked the city. A set of ornate stairs led up to the surface, a way of inducing awe by gradually revealing what must have no doubt been a grand palace if the rest of the city was anything to go by.

They were instead led to the side, down a steep sloping tunnel to the dungeons. It wasn’t a particular distance to walk, but it played on her nerves regardless. Near seventy people going down the steep steps, chained together and bone-tired from a full day’s grueling march meant that Kezra’s law of misfortunate happenstance was being severely put to the test, and Lyanni all but waited for someone to fall down the stairs and create a pile up.

Once she made it down safely, a dark part of her psyche awaited with no little fervour to see whether it would actualy happen and provide a bit of humour on an otherwise depressing occasion.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get to see whether or not it would happen, as they were herded into separate cells and ordered to strip down to basics for an inspection. To her people, there was no indignation in this. They were predators, and predators were meant to be proud of the forms they wore whether adorned or not, and should carry their bodies with prideproudly should another see them in a less than socially decent state.

No, the indignation arose from being forced to expose themselves. To have that freedom of choice taken from them to diminish their pride. That was a cruel fate for a race like theirs.

Lya obeyed, half listening to the anger of the Sarjakan nextdoor as he no doubt protested this deprival of honour. She winced as she peeled her blue prison clothes from her legs, tearing off a scab that had managed to form half inside of the fibrous material throughout the day. Pain turned to revulsion at the gangrenous state of the slash on her leg. Another day at most, then rot and disease would surely set in. She comforted herself in the fact that she likely wouldn’t live long enough to endure whatever suffering would be bestowed upon her.

She took a look at herself in the cracked mirror left in the cell. Her people were all naturally lithe, with muscled limbs and abdomens that were priorities for their bodies. Their torsos were flat and smooth for their purpose of unobstructed prowling close to the ground, and thus their organs were far smaller relative to their bodies than humans. The prevailing theory was that somewhere in the past, they had needed that inherent strength and athleticism to climb cliff faces tooth and nail.

She pulled one lip to the side to inspect the inside. Malnutrion was beginning to yellow her claws and teeth, and kept her in a perpetually tired state, though it would still be a few weeks before she began to look like a sack of skin and bones. Her brown scales were damaged, bruises still not fully healed discoloured her skin, and scars clearly in the shape of blade wounds pockarked her skin. She looked up, ember eyes locking with themselves through the mirror.

Despite herself, she laughed, then spoke in the strange dialect of the former border Baronies, a speech halfway between Axidemir and Auxelian, though she’d always seen the distinction as arbitrary. They were effectively the same language at the end of the day, though both peoples were too stubborn to admit their similarities.

“Thee does look a fine vagrant,” She spoke, then closed her eyes and leant forward again. It was true, at least she wouldn’t live long enough to suffer over-long. But there was another tragedy within tragedy which that entailed.

She opened her eyes again as the door was unlocked, and through stepped a guard with a blue plume and another- seemingly a priest of sorts in a white robe. They had their hands folded, neatly tucked into the volumous sleeves of theirs.

The guard spoke first, “I do not know whether this northerner knows our language,” then a gesture back to the door, “Shall I fetch an interpretter, apothecary?”

Apothecary. She felt herself trying the word silently. It felt wrong, foreign even.

“You fear the witch? Admit it then, captain,” The priest spoke, then she approached Lyanni, who stiffened reflexively, “We do not need her to understand us to conduct the inspection,”

The guard shifted nervously from side to side, grip tightening on a sword at his side, then cleared his throat, “Prisoner! By the power of King Alahn, reply if you understand our tongue!”

“I speak it just fine, you dolt,” she spoke in a forced hoarse voice, and smiled as the guard backed into a corner in fear.

‘Okay, I’ll admit it,’ She thought, ‘The whole ‘witch’ stigma is really fun for messing with people,’

The ‘Apothecary’ didn’t seem to care much, simply leaning in to do an inspection. Lyanni was silent as the other worked, watching with building curiosity a symbol she had never seen before swing like a pendulum while the priest worked. It was a half cog suspended by fine chains, the symbol of the god Vitaam, but above it were three symbols she had never seen before: what looked like a line, followed by an upward facing curve and a right-facing curve.

The priest continued her inspection until reaching the gangrene of Lyanni’s leg, then grimaced and turned to the guard captain in what Lyanni immediately recognised as the heavyset dialect of Kestin.

“Does thee ken pleasentry, guardsmen?!” She yelled at the captain, “Whyfore doth this one bear damage?!”

“It’s a witch! What must we care how injured it is if it is destined for the mines regardless!” The captain yelled back, then clapped a hand over his mouth. One did not lightly address the clergy so callously,

“I shall overlook this slight as more of this barbaric insolence you’ve displayed thus far. She is to be presented, and we cannot present one who is damaged to Ahdari’an!” She said, “What kind of gratitude is that?”

It still hurt to be called ‘Damaged’ instead of injured, but Lyanni still appreciated the sentiment, given her situation. She also wondered who Ahdari’an was. At first it had sounded like a name, but it didn’t seem to fit the sound of either Auxelian or Axidemir. A title perhaps? A way of saying ‘General’ in the regional dialect?

She didn’t know, but she did know that she would likely find out rather soon.

The priest reached into a pocket in her robe and pulled out a jar decorated in more of those strange symbols. She muttered what seemed to be a prayer, then popped off the lid, revealing a thick, amber-coloured substance. The priest scooped a bit out, then put some on Lyanni’s wound.

She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from yelping. Not because it hurt, despite the jello-like substance bubbling as boiling water. To the contrary it created a maddenig itch that she had to fight with all her will to not scratch.

After a few moments of that particularly agonising test of self control, the bubbling stopped, and the jello seemed to sink into her skin, leaving behind a raw strip of discoloured scales where the wound had been. She gingerly put a claw to it, surprised that it was nearly fully healed, save it’s sensitivity to just about everything and a residual dull ache.

The apothecary nodded, then put the tub away once more, “Once the ball proper has commenced, you shall be led back up,” She nodded to the guard, who signalled out the door, and was handed a fresh set of clothes consisting of a white fibre shirt and brown cloth slacks, and tossed them to Lyanni “Get dressed,”

Lyanni was still fascinated by the fast healing of an injury that likely would’ve killed her within a few days given how abd it already was. She looked up at the priest and spoke one final time,

“Vitaam protect you, Apo-thac’ry,” She struggled with the last word still.

And with that, she set about getting dressed once more, then lay down in the corner to rest for a while.

//////////

The sounds of revelry and jubilation from upstairs were a quick and jarring reminder of the utterly dire situation she was in. As grim as it sounded, she had been banking on the fact that infection would kill her before she could suffer too long.

She lay there silent, watching the setting sun through the window. In the past hour, she’d unfolded and refolded her own prison clothes countless times, hoping to relieve stress through mindless action. It hadn’t worked.

Instead she’d elected to watch what she assumed would be one of her last sunsets before the mines faced her. That much she was convinced of, at least, there was no way she would end up anywhere else. Her people simply wouldn’t allow it.

Still, she would face what came with the pride of her home-barony. She would not slink into shadows or whine like an imputent child. To do so would be a disgrace to Jezdeir. A disgrace to her bloodline.

She awoke to the sound of a chain being dragged down the corridor, and people being lined up and attached to the convoy. She stood and held her hands out in front of her. Fight, she could try, run as well, but what purpose would it serve? How many armed palace guards were there just between her and the gondola, and if that wasn’t up there any more, could she hold off long enough to await it?

No.

The answer was simply no.

So she didn’t fight back when they put her in chains once more, didn’t fight when the shrill whistle demanded that they once more began marching. She didn’t so much as open her mouth in complaint, though the gods as her witness, she wanted to.

//////////

The feasting hall was extravagant. The area was divided into three separate floors, with the top two arranged into tiered orbital overhangs with a perfect view of the sandy floor in the pit, which itself was somehow even lower down than the dungeons, and Lyanni had to wonder how far down into the rock did the palace actually extend.

People were milling about, ordering goblets with bloodred wine from servents, and conversing in the multitude of kingdom dialects, each unique to a barony. Most of the time, she could catch a snippet of conversation as they passed, but some of the people’s speech (Presumeably those of the far north, former Auxelian provinces turned into Axidemir Baronies) was so thick even she with her old-fashioned dialect had to stop and concentrate to understand them.

They were marched through the crowds of people: Nobles, barons, merchants and Mercenaries, all, and Lyanni was suddenly very glad to not be wearing her sign anymore. This seemed the kind of crowd who would do far worse than throw a rotten fruit at her, and they seemed the kind of crowd who would get away with it too. She shuddered at the thought.

As she walked, she caught a flash of something red and turned her head to look. It seemed like it had stopped to ask a question of a noble.

Whatever it had been, it was gone by the time she had turned her head.

They passed a rotating table (what would be called a lazy Susan by humans) set up with an array of meats and plants that served more as decoration than actual food, and Lyanni caught another flash.

This time when she turned, she caught nobles looking away from a vacant spot in the crowd as if they had just been speaking to someone, but there was noone there anymore. She thought she was going crazy, but she could’ve sworn something had been there.

Then a voice spoke beside her that almost made her jump out of her shackles and skin at the same time. It was hollow, mechanical almost. A sound you could feel more than hear, but it wasn’t grating, in fact it was almost an enchanting sound, the kind that you could listen to for hours and forget your own name in.

“Good day, captain. Are these the prisoners?” It asked. Fluent Axidemir, High dialect of all things, but fluent and intelligeable.

She dared to look, and caught a shape that was covered in a red robe from head to toe. It was smaller than her, yet she felt small before it.

The captain, however, seemed to old no such awe. He bowed to the newcomer, “Aye, sir, all lined up and ready for the choosing of the tribute,”

The shape was silent beside her, for a mere moment, then it too bowed, “Then all is in order. If you will excuse me, Jerdis, there are matters which require my attention,”

And like that, it seemed to simply vanish. It was like the thing had just turned about and stepped into another world through a slit in the air, though such a thing would imply that he had stepped through something and not just vanished. Lya had watched it all in her peripheral from no more than a meter away, and yet she couldn’t understand what it had done.

The guard signalled, and they continued to march, reaching stairs and going up those same stairs to the topmost floor. Everything was a strange mix of alien and familiar in the palace, as it had been in the city. Impossibly detailed sculptures decorated the pillars, braziers holding flames provided light and glass -glass! Lyanni could not believe anyone could afford so much glass- allowed moonlight to be guest to the festivities as well. Tapestries were hung all around, once more showing the red cloaked figure of earlier in various scenarios which Lyanni guessed were important to the people of the Capital.

What she found strange, however, was that the pictures seemed to match stories she’d heard of the patron Angel of Axidem. Of him bringing strange tasteles, blocky food from the stars when he first appeared in Axidem, of him using magic to blow a hole in the gates of Tem Veer for the Axidemir to storm the fortress and gain access to the stockpiles they so desperately needed. A chilling tapestry, new given the lack of faded colouring, depicted the Angel with arms outstretched as the light of the sun burnt an entire city to ashes.

The guards lined them up along the upper floor, and from where she stood she had a perfect view of the pit. She noted that noone seemed to be down there in the sand, and wondered what purpose such a thing could serve.

She looked across the way to where the king was seated on his throne. King Alahn of Axidem, high lord of the Kingdom baronies, and apparently a hero of sorts from the kingdom’s darker days. He wore ornate purple garmants and golden jewellery. On his head was the jewel inlaid wreath that marked him as the reigning monarch. No partner of his was in sight, but that was custom in their part of the world. Only the reigning noble sat the throne, their spouse held other duties that either pertained to the running of the country or not, but their relationship never had anything to do with a gamble for power.

In the case of Alahn, she didn’t even know if he was married or had been at any point in the past.

On the floor by the king’s feet, a young child was entertaining himself with blocks that seemed to stick together as easily as they could be pulled back apart, and he seemed to be building some primitive immitation of the palace with them.

With a shock, she realised that it was Prince Zeltin. Somehow she’d expected the prince to be a bit older, but he seemed to barely be out of the egg, no more than eight winters in age.

She had to do a double take as the robed figure once more seemingly appeared out of thin air. Or so it seemed at a glance. Now that she was watching them dead on, she could see how masterfully they blended into the crowd to move around.

They leant low and spoke something into the king’s ear, who nodded, said something back, then made a gesture by raising his thumb-claw that Lyanni didn’t recognise. The cloaked figure nodded, dropped to a knee then appeared to begin a conversation with the young prince, still playing with his blocks.

The king picked up his goblet and stood. Immediately, the whole hall fell silent.

When he spoke, it carried power, but also youth. After all she’d heard of the king from Axidem’s war of revival, and even the new war of reclamation they were fighting so hard for, she’d come to expect an older man.

“People of Axidem!” He began, “Today, we gather in celebration of an end to the war in the northlands! The empire of Auxelia, long sworn enemy of our beloved kingdom, has been brought low by none other than our Patron angel and court mage,” He gestured to the kneeling figure, who rose with almost unnatural grace.

“Adrian!”

No sooner had he said the name than people had begun to chant it with almost savage fervour, gripped by some baser instinct.

Lya continued to watch the figure. Something wasn’t right with them, something about how they moved, and their mannerisms. It wasn’t that they were tense, she would’ve recognised that instantly, but they unnerved her regardless.

Suddenly, the figure turned and looked her right in the eyes from across the way, glowing twin abysses seemed to burn right into her soul and lay all her secrets to bare. She quickly looked away in panic. Out of hundreds of people no doubt looking at them, they had seemingly singled her out for simply looking at them, as though they had felt a gaze upon them.

It simply confirmed her suspicions. Whatever that was, it was an exception to the laws of science.

She turned back when the chanting ceased. It had turned away from her.

The king lowered a clawed hand which had presumeably been used to signal silence.

“However, today, we also have visitors from our allies in Tsellan Sarjak, come to celebrate the end of the Reclamation Wars. Ambassador Tiirrae, the hearts of the Axidemir welcome you,” He finished, “They bring with them their own Patron Angel, one Aroha, and these two beings have agreed to a show of power tonight, a friendly yet restrained duel by their standards, but one I’m certain will show that our nations together can accomplish much.”

Lyanni was no stranger to statecraft. She heard how he spoke each word as a half truth with just enough fact to satisfy. Yet she had to ask where the angels were he had spoke of.

Down below, a similar shape walked out to the railing and raised a hand into the air, calling out in a similarly hollow voice in a language that didn’t sound like it belonged in the mouth of Lyanni’s people,

“Whakarongo mai rā!” The one presumeably named Aroha called.

The one up top also raised a fist, and called back in a noticceably different yet similarly unnatural, musical language, “Et ego exáud te!”

The first one leapt the railing and landed in a crouch, robe billowing around them to show a bipedal creature with a sheathed sword at it’s side. The other stopped just long enough to playfull ruffle the top of a giggling Prince Zeltin’s head (Which shocked Lyanni, as she didn’t think anyone was allowed to touch the prince and live), before leaping the railing afore the throne and making a similar drop into the sand, leaving a veritable cloud of the stuff around it on landing.

Then several things clicked for Lyanni. These were indeed the angels they had been talking about, and she had enough reason to believe that claim. They weren’t natural.

Then another thing clicked. The person who they were meant to be offering tribute to was one Ahdari’an. Their angel was ‘Adrian’.

Oh no.

She shook her head. Her odds were still incredibly low of getting picked, but the mines were starting to sound far more appealing than being a tribute to an actual messenger of the divine. What would that even entail? She didn’t want to find out, especially not if one of those things was actually down among them to help define what was and wasn’t witchcraft. If it’s own definition had gotten her arrested, she dreaded to think what would become of her if she was made tribute.

‘Stop it,’ She chastised herself, ‘What will come will come,’

Instead, she watched as the two began to circle eachother in the sand, robes thrown back to reveal simple white shirts and brown slacks on both, as well as…

Did they cover their feet?

That was likely the strangest thing for her. The leather coverings on their feet. From her experience with claws, that sounded both painful and unnecessary.

Still, it didn’t seem to affect the grace of either as they orbitted eachother, each with a hand on sheathes. Ahora with her left hand on sword, and Adrian with hands at his sides, resting on the wooden grips of…

Lyanni squinted. They looked like daggers, but she couldn’t be certain from that high up. In any event, the way Adrian had his hands rested on them looked like a damn awkward way of unsheathing twin daggers, and it looked more like he was about to deliver some of the sassiests hands-on-hips commentary the world had ever heard, turn words into weapons.

After a moment, the two seemed to reach a silent agreement of sorts. Ahora pulled out their sword, swinging down and to the left, while Adrian did something unexpected and pushed down on their grips, seemingly phasing the daggers through their sheathes. And holding them out to his sides.

Lyani remarked that they likely weren’t daggers. She’d never seen any weapon with a blade angled in the same direction one’s fingers would point.

Ahora seemed to simply shoot through the sand, leaving behind naught but a tunnel of parted and setting particles in their wake. Adrian brought their one dagger up, aiming low and deflecting the blade in a shower of sparks, then side stepping under another swing. Lyanni watched in confused wonder as they seemed to flip the weapon around so they held it by it’s blade with the intent of striking with the hilt, and questioned both how they hadn’t cut their fingers off in the process, and whether or not it was actually a viable strategy.

A bought of flurried exchanges followed, then with a particularly savage downward cleave from Ahora, Adrian grabbed their blade, scooted to the side and behind them, locking their arm into what must’ve been a painful hold. They crouched down to flip the other over their shoulders.

Ahora hit the sand hard, causing a metric ton of the stuff to disperse in a perfect ring around the combatants. Adrian brought their dagger-things back around and seemed to be planning on striking Ahora’s head with their hilt.

At the last moment, Ahora rolled aside and came to their feet in a single unnatural motion. Adrian pointed the dagger at Ahora in what Lyanni assumed to be a taunting gesture. She smiled. Even angels weren’t above what her father would’ve called “Being a little Kalaani shit,”

Ahora reversed their grip on the sword, then stabbed it into the sand, likely cutting a slight indent into the stone below the arena given how deep it went. Lyanni smelt brimstone in the air, and the scent of encroaching rain in the distance.

Suddenly Adrian lowered their entire body into a crouch as lightning shot forth from Ahora’s arm, which Adrian caught with theirs.

Lyanni watched in awe at such a raw and apparently casual display of power.

Adrian seemed to weigh their options, then swept their hand in a circle, causing sand around them to spiral into a vortex and obscure them. Ahora’s lightning occasionally fused the sand into strange glass patterns which Lyanni was almost positive would be for sale in the market the next day thanks to one of the cleaning servants.

The whirling sand didn’t abate, instead it exploded outward into a swirling storm, to startled shrieks of the people around them. Ahora relented witht their lightning, pulled their sword out of the ground and looked around skeptically. Adrian was gone.

Suddenly, the sand pulled back in, covering the entire arena, roaring like a wounded demon as it blew, then it fell flat to the ground again, leaving two sand covered Angels in its wake.

Adrian pointed one of his daggers again, levelled it at the back of Ahora.

And then a loud bang like the sound of thunder echoed around the chamber. Adrian was abruptly envelopped by smoke, and a starburst pattern of disturbed sand had spread out around their feet.

Ahora had brought a blade up behind them as soon as it happened, and Lya caught a rather bright spark coming off of it before the Angel was sent skidding forward, stabbing their sword into the ground with a twofold objective: to quickly turn around and to brake.

‘It’s some kind of force magic,” Lyanni hazarded, ‘They put a hell of a lot of force into an attack that pushed the other away and disturbed the sand,’ then chastised herself. There was no such thing as magic, only cold science.

Yet she also had to admit she had no better way of explaining anything she was seeing.

The two Yman’ye continued to circle eachother, almost daring the other to make a move.

Lyanni could see the blue light of their eyes from under Adrian’s hood, and aside from what she was beginning to dub his ‘thunder-daggers’, that was her only way of accuratey telling apart the Angels. She did find it curious that the other didn’t have the same intense glow to their eyes.

Adrian’s left hand drifted back down to the sheathe and put one of the thunder-daggers away. Suddenly, as lightning, their right hand sprung forward and another shockwave rent the sand into rippling pattern. Their left hand came up and did something behind the weapon and two more pops rattled off in quick succession, deepening the pattern until Lyanni could just about make out the stone floor through it. Each one glanced off of Ahora’s blade, though they had managed to firmly plant themselves and weren’t thrown back this time.

Despite it all, she found herself quite enjoying the duel. It was terrifying, sure, but very entertaining to some primitive part of her mind which still harboured the instinct of watching the bloodsport of two dominant pack animals tearing eachother apart to determine who would lead the group in future.

Down below, The two rushed together again. Adrian tried to get another blast off. Ahora threw their sword and Lyanni watched in facination as it struck Adrian on the bottom of their forearm -Somehow not chopping it off or impaling it in the process-, and making the shot go incredibly high and blast the feather off of the Baroness of Karev’s hat, which got a good chuckle from those who had seen it happen. The Baroness simply lowered her hat, no doubt to cover her embarrassment at what had happened.

Down in the sand, the battle raged on more physically, blows were traded and parried, footwork was executed so gracefully that Lyanni was certain the same maneuvers would’ve given a normal soldier a sprained ankle had they tried to mimic it.

Then suddenly, the battle ended. Ahora had a blade pulled back with it’s tip pressed against (What Lyanni assumed) was Adrian’s stomach, while the glowing-eyed angel had a thunder-dagger up to the throat of their sparring partner.

The duo nodded to eachother, then both backed off, resheathing their weapons with unnatural grace, bowing to eachother first, then to the assembled nobles.

Alahn spoke up again, “And there you have it, honourable guests. The small, controlled display of the power of our angels. Power that will be directed in the defense of our kingdoms as they always have been,”

Lyanni froze at the words, and her mind’s voice practically screamed, ‘That was small?!’

The murmurring around the hall told her that the statement had been echoed by the others. Clearly, if such a friendly duel was anything to go by, there would be no war between Tsellan Sarjak and Axidem. Surely noone could survive a war if a mere friendly match had been such a grand show of force.

Lyanni stopped to think. No, this was much more than just a show of force. There was a deeper plan behind the battle, every move had been calculated in advance to achieve some goal. She just couldn’t figure that goal out for the life of her.

She watched as the one named Adrian spoke to Ahora down below, awefully friendly in gestures given the utter brutality they had just fought with. Either the Angels had a much looser concept of how to maintain good relations, or the goal had never been to win for either of them, and they were simply glad that their plan had worked.

“I now call upon Adrian, patron Angel of the Axidem kingdom, to come pick a servant for his grand work,”

Lyanni made a note of that. Their Patron angel was a ‘he’.

She assumed she still had a few minutes to think what was going on while the angels used the stairs, as one would expect from normal people.

Of course, pity the fool for not thinking that they could jump three stories straight up, because that’s exactly what Adrian did, landing as gracefully as one might expect a bird to land with wings outstretched. Except he had none of those, probably just an absurd amount of springloaded divine muscle under all those robes.

He landed beside the throne and dropped to a crouch as Zeltin came running up to him, throwing a great childlike hug around the angel who had just conjured a miniature sandstorm in the arena and accidentally taken the plume off a baroness’s hat from well over twenty five measures out.

Lyanni made a note of that too. The angel definitely had some close relationship to the royal family. She didn’t see any other reason a child would feel so comfortable around him, or why his non-chalance would be tolerated, angel or not.

“Gather all!” Alahn called, and then spoke the words that froze Lyanni’s blood, “It is time for the choosing to commence,”

//////////

The angel bowed to the throne once, stiffly, and if Lyanni were fool enough to try judge the subtleties of their movements by the standards of mortals, she could’ve sworn that he looked… offput. Something was bothering him about the whole ordeal, but she -for the life of her- could not tell what.

The angel known as Adrian began to make his way around the upper stratum of the room, stopping by each of the prisoners and addressing them in a low voice, asking three questions; and getting three shaky, terrified answers in turn. After each short exchange, the interviewew would sit down, likely as a sign of respect to the being.

Lyanni felt the knot of tension in her chest worsen as the angel approached, not helped by the fact that she couldn’t make out the questions to so much as prepare herself.

What if he asks riddles like Chemya demons in the stories? The voice in the back of her head asked. She guessed it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that a messenger of the divine -for this illogicality seemed the only remaining logical conclusion- might do such a thing.

Then Hai, Ho, down to the hells we go, was her response to the matter. And it was true, she didn’t particularly care anymore.

She seemed to barely blink before the angel was speaking to the woman on her right. A foreigner from the eastern continent if her grey and black scales were anything to go by. Lyanni heard her struggle to answer in Axidemir, then to her surprise the Angel simply switched to whatever language was common in her homeland and repeated his question in that.

She could hear a clear accent, but it sounded no worse than hers when she spoke the common dialect of the kingdom. Clearly foreign, yes, but clear and apparently intelligable.

At least to the woman, because to Lyanni’s surprise she couldn’t tell a single syllable of the exchange, and she stood but a single measure from them.

When Adrian was done, he hesitated a moment, then deviated from the norm by placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder, muttering something, and then moving on. She collapsed to her knees with eyes stained with tears, though strangely, Lya thought them to be tears of joy in stead of fear or grief.

Then, he was standing before her. His red hood was drawn low to cover his face, with only the blue glow of his eyes as indicator of what lay beneath. A white trim like the teeth of a cog lined the hems of his robe, and he stood with arms crossed into the volumous sleeves to hide his hands. Lyanni had the sudden intrusive question of whether the angel hid his appearance to protect them, or if his kind were simply ugly beyond adoration.

After a moment, he looked up into her eyes, and she took note of the mask and the cylinder which jutted out from in front of it and down some.

By the gods, did they not have snouts?

It was a strange question, but she had genuine trouble picturing what she’d always thought of as entities vaguely like her own people in anatomy with snouts so flat a mask was required to let the silhouette jut out remotely as far as a face normally would.

“What is your name?”

Lyanni’s mind had to do a double take at the question. She had expected mind melting riddles to determine her strength of character (or perhaps lack thereof), or perhaps a pondering on the nature of the world that she might be requested to complete. But her name of all things? That had caught her off guard, and for a moment it seemed that the abyss behind those piercing blue eyes had simply swallowed her name and tongue while searching for the truth in her words.

She looked down a bit, focussing on the mask once more to regain her composure. She was from the border baronies. She had the honour of that particularly isolated region to uphold, and she refused to be cowed by a simple blue light.

She raised her gaze back to those searchlight eyes, almost daring them, and said, “I am Lyanni of the city of Utraz. By my people’s law of incarceration, I have been stripped of the right to my family name,”

“Jezdeir? Baron Jormahnd Sverik’s lands? Been a minute since we heard any news from that way,” He stated more than asked. She heard an odd intonation to his voice, amusement perhaps, “No matter, Jezdeir is practically independent and does not concern me,”

And just like that, dismissed, as if the thought did not even warrant questioning. Lyanni didn’t know whether or not to be revolted or impressed by the non-chalance.

“What crimes do you stand accused of?” He asked as his next question.

Lyanni felt the urge to lie. There was no more board to profess credit or discredit to her words, and what reason would she have to speak true given how her ‘crime’ revolted even the lowest of scum. But under the angel’s intense gaze, she also felt that it would be pointless to lie when she could almost feel it laying her secrets to bare, reading her life like a book.

“I stand accused of witchcraft: the owning and use of literary works alchemical and arcane which the temples have deemed to be only the angels’ godsgiven right to use,” She spoke, still maintaining eye contact. It had become more so a matter of pride than her own courage.

Adrian’s attention seemed to grow at that, as if he had heard his first interesting news all night. Then, he asked his final question.

“And do you agree with these allegations?”

Lyanni broke eye contact for a moment and addressed the entire hall. She had quite a lot to say on the matter of agreeing or disagreeing with allegations, and if she were destined to die malnourished and overworked in a mine, she would have her say even if it was the death of her right then.

“I admit to what I did. I purposefully searched for literature on the forbidden arts in black markets throughout the kingdom. I tried and tested them all, learning all I now know through trial and error and dead-ends.” She spoke, “But agree? That I do not. What sin is there in the pursuit of knowledge? Did not Kheram breathe life into us that we may know all that which was forbidden to the goddess of death? That we may tell our tales to her on the day of our passing? And what of this knowledge. I have seen what the temples declare forbidden and ask why only the angels are permitted to works that could improve life for not just the kingdom but all of us! What right do they have to knowledge that we don’t?”

Gasps and murmuring were the response to her outburst, and at that moment, she couldn’t care less. She turned back to Adrian, forcing control over the floodgates of emotion and pain which had opened but briefly with her outburst. She looked into his eyes and dared him to challenge her.

Adrian cocked his head in thought, and softly -so soft, in fact, that even Lyanni barely heard him- said, “You are not like the others, I see that now. Though what to make of it…”

She was so focussed on Adrian that she didn’t notice a guard unsheathe a seraaf (A kind of sleek, curved sword made with both the intent of slashing at the enemy and hooking their weapon) while walking up to her, then bringing it down in a savage arc that was meant to take her head from her body,

“You will pay for your disrespect with your life!” The guard snarled.

Like lightning, the angel’s arm shot out and grabbed the the blade. Lyanni felt momentarily revolted at the sight, as it looked like a metal skeleton with plating haphazardly attached for armour, and she wondered if such terrible things were why they covered themselves.

“Guard, I asked her a question, and she gave an answer,” He spoke with a level voice, barely masking a threat. He tightened his grip and Lyanni heard the absolutely soul grating sound of metal scraping metal, watched as his fingers left behind scratches on the sword, “We do not punish people for obedience,”

When he let go, the guard practically fell over herself to get out of the way.

Adrian nodded to her once, then moved on, and she immediately felt her legs buckle from fear she didn’t know the full extent of. She simply sat like that, half on her knee and half fighting to remain standing as he continued down the line. There was an inherent fear to something he had said,

‘You are not like the others, I can see that now,’

That statement bothered her. The angel had taken notice of her, and that significantly raised her odds of being chosen as tribute. Once more she found herself asking what if it’s own declarations of heresy’s definition had been what had gotten her arrested? What would then become of her should she become tribute?

She shook her head. It was out of her hands. What would come, would come.

Once Adrian had reached the end of the line, he began to pace back around, clearly contemplating something as he did. He detoured smoothly, and Lyanni didn’t even realise he had stopped pacing until he held his hand out to help her up.

“Quid sum faciens?” He muttered in that strange angelic language of his. Lyanni had a slight suspicion that he was asking a god directly for their input. He held out his hand to help her up, and she reluctantly accepted. Once she was on her feet, he stopped to look her in the eyes, then spoke again, “Iustus postulo ut maxime ex eo…”

He then turned back to the throne across the gap, “My choice is made! Lyanni ver Utraz”

Lyanni had only a moment to wonder at the extremely region specific geographic identifier, before all hell broke loose in the the hall. Nobles were shouting at the absurdity of the Angel choosing a witch, others were yelling at the first group for questioning the divine will. Not a few looked like they were about to come to blows over the ordeal while Alahn tried in vain to try restore order.

Lyanni felt a similar turmoil in her mind. It couldn’t be happening. It must’ve been a nightmare of sorts. Of course, she was still asleep in the dungeon, wasn’t she? Away from such things as angels and demons and tributes. Away from a future that would almost certainly bring suffering.

Adrian pressed a finger to his throat (Or what Lyanni assumed would be his throat), and then spoke a single word like a thunderclap, loud enough to stun her ears into ringing and leave a lingering resonance in the windows high above them,

“SILENCE!”

And like that, they obeyed. He removed his hand from his throat and spoke loud and clear, but not as physically powerful as before.

“Now then, king Alahn, you have your people’s attention,”

“There is but one who’s attention I seek. Are you perhaps beset by madness, Adrian?” Alahn asked, and Lyanni was almost certain that addressing a messenger of the divine in such a way would be the easiest way to book an express tour of the nine hells.

“I have walked the lands of this kingdom and served it’s crown in the name of the Forge-Father for three winters now,” Adrian began. Lyanni made a note that this was an angel of Vitaam then. It explained the cog-tooth symbolism on everything, “In that time I have made decisions and moves hard, others regrettable, all upon what at times must’ve appeared to be non-sensical whims. Have I ever made a decision that did not benefit the kingdom in the long run?”

There were murmurs of agreement among the nobles. Lyanni had to admire how he spoke, there was likely only partial truth to his words, but there was enough to dissuade antagonism from the nobles. If he had been mortal, the Angel known as Adrian would’ve been a master statesmen, that much she could already tell.

He locked eyes with Alahn across the way, “So I ask that you trust me when I say that this is part of the plan,”

A silent communion seemed to pass between the Angel and the Monarch, then the king sighed.

“Lyanni, unclaimed witch of the city of Utraz. May you find redemption for your crimes in service to Vitaam and the Angel Adrian,”

She watched Adrian tense at the words. Something about them bothered him, but for the life of her, Lyanni couldn’t figure out what.

Adrian bowed to Alahn as guards moved to separate her from the convoy. She gratefully stepped away from the leg shackles that had bound her nearly the entire day. She felt like she could run a mile.

And she probably would as soon as they were in the city. She would take off into the night. After all, what would such a small creature, angel or not, do to catch up with her.

A metal hand clamped on her shoulder, and she cringed. Somehow Adrian’s limbs managed to freak her out completely. It was like being touched by a frigid corpse.

But worse than that, his grip was like a vise. It wasn’t painful (And she thanked the gods for small mercies) But she felt she would not be going anywhere unless she planned to have a fat chunk of her left trapezius torn out, and even then she doubted whether she had that kind of strength in her prison-weakened state.

‘So there goes that plan,’ she thought.

Adrian marched them to the stairs, parting the crowds with his presence alone.

Somewhere along the line, the other angel also showed themselves, and asked a question of Adrian, “Quid mea mandata?”, and Lyanni assumed it was a question about what he had been thinking when he chose a witch as tribute.

“Fac quod facerem,” Adrian replied, “Fac nexus, relationes expolient, et fac incolis se ipsos non occidunt,”

It must’ve been a rather good reason, since the other simply bowed, “Ut vis, Praetor. Ave Imperator!” then vanished back into the crowd.

Adrian also muttered “Ave Imperator”, then guided them out of the hall, taking the quick route to the gondola through the dungeons (Why that was the quick route, Lyanni had no idea).

Once they had boarded, he signalled behind them and the operator raised the ramp, then began the trip back to the city.

Adrian leant forward to speak to her in a low voice, seemingly careful to stay at least a foot away from her ear, which seemed a strange gesture for one who wanted secrecy, “Look, before you run off, I just want to hold short palaver with you in private. That okay?”

Lyanni wasn’t convinced that it would stay at that. She was certain a horrible fate awaited her, but what could she do?

He sighed, “Look, I know this probably won’t mean much to you, but I swear by all saints and the Imperator I just want to talk, and I give you the right to strike me down should I go back on that.” He leant back and called back to the operator, “You bear witness to this?”

The operator spoke with a strange intonation, and Lyanni realised with dawning horror that it was also not a regular person. It seemed to be like her people in silhouette, but with a covering comprised of interlocking plates instead of scaled flesh. Another angel of sorts? A demon? Or something in between, “Aye, I bear witness and proclaim that should you not speak true, I am obliged to perform this young lady’s legal permissive on her behalf,”

Adrian was silent, then “Side-note, you are only two hundred years old, Artemis, very young for a Ba’yosiint,” that last word almost sounded Sarjakan, but it didn’t make sense in any context she could think of to derive meaning from it, Adrian turned his attention back to Lyanni, “Do you trust me?”

“Do I have a choice?” She dared ask.

“One always has a choice, and if not it is their responsibility to give themselves a choice,” The Angel replied. Lyanni guessed she could see the logic in such reasoning, though not the practicality,

Reluctantly, she agreed, “Fine then. Palaver we shall hold, then I shall be on my way or the world shall be short one Angel,”

That seemed to satisfy Adrian, who released his grip -much to Lyanni’s relief- and went to stand at the far end of the gondola. Lyanni noticed with surprise that his eyes were no longer glowing.

Up on the helm, she heard the ‘Ba’yosiint’ grumble something about being closer to two hundred and fifty.

She went to stand by the railing, watching the farms in the valley below bathed as they were in silver and blue by shadow and moonlight. She remarked silently that it looked just as beautiful under the gaze of the moon as it did beneath the setting sun. And once more she wondered whether this would be the last time she saw such a sight.

She looked over at the black case which had been passed off to Adrian at some point. The case which held her belongings from when she had been arrested.

She made a promise to herself. She would see this view again, even if it meant soaking a blade with in angel’s blood.

//////////

She had expected many things from an angel’s home. Grand, monastic, perhaps even eldritch.

She had not, however, expected a rather cosy looking lodge at the mesa’s edge. Granted, it was right in the middle of the Fabrication district, across the way from a machinist’s shop with a weather-worn sign squeakily swinging in the breeze, and she had expected no less from an angel of the god of forges.

But overall, it gave off the feeling of a lived in house. Somewhere that someone cared for enough to bother personalising it.

The door had opened onto a corridor with two locked rooms on either side, and ended in an open concept two story room with a high, domed ceiling decorated with stars swirling in arms around a glowing center. Barely perceptable lines stretched between the stars, reminding Lyanni oddly of trade routes on a map. Of course, that was silly. They probably marked out some hidden message and she was just seeing things.

The room itself had a raised L-shape along the entire floor, ending in an opening which seemed to lead to the kitchen. Next to the dinner table an indoor window looked in on the kitchen. Between the L-shape and the walls, the floor was lowered somewhat, with a kind of cylindrical device like a table as a centerpiece before a great, wall spanning window. Off to the left were stairs that took one up to the mezzanine, and two couches facing eachother across a spiral-patterned beige and cream rug. There were vases on the end tables which held strangely beautiful yet clearly alien flowers. Against the wall, a fireplace was set into the wall behind a grate that seemed to have never been used for how clean it was of soot, flanked on either side by bookshelves with what must’ve amounted to near a hundred books. Above the fireplace hung a flag which Lyanni had never seen before: a black flag with an offset red cross running it’s length. The topmost part of the cross had additional diagonals that stretched from the convergence to the top of the flag.

On the mantel were a bunch of framed photos, but before Lyanni could get a good look at them, Adrian snapped his fingers and they greyed out, as though by magic.

Adrian shifted the case with her things so that he carried it under his left arm, patting down his cloak as he did. She heard him muttering as he did so,

“Crap, where is…?” He put the box down and began to pat down with both hands. Lyanni could hear the rattling of his thunder-daggers in their sheathes as he did so, “Did they not give me…?”

“You alright?” She ventured to ask. She still did not feel nearly as confident as she sounded, but if she was about to be executed by a semi-divine being, she was going to do so with chin-held high.

“Yeah, the prison forgot to give me the bloody keys,” He sighed in frustration, “Alright then, we improvise. Would you kindly hold out your hands?”

Lyanni eyed him skeptically.

“I have already given an oath of life. What more do you want from me to prove I mean no harm?” He asked impatiently.

Lyanni mulled it over, then reluctantly held out her hands. Adrian gripped the chain in both of his and pulled it apart with a sudden metallic snap that actually made her flinch. She held up her hands, looking at the loose hanging chains from shackles.

“Unfortunately I can only try to get you out of those tomorrow, but this should at least give you back the use of your hands,” He said. Lyanni watched him tense up, hand lowering down to where one of the thunder-daggers were sheathed. She suddenly realised he was expecting an attack almost as much as she was, and was bracing himself in advance.

“Thank you kindly,” She replied rubbing her wrists, “Now then. Let us palaver, angel,”

“Please, I would have you know me by name. Adrian, if you will?”

“Angel,” Lyanni insisted.

He shrugged, “As you wish.” He leant back against the wall, “I will not beat about the bush. I have no need or want of a companion, a servent or -and throne forbid something so abhorrant- a slave. If you wish to go, you are free to do so at any time, though I cannot guarantee your safety beyond these walls,” He shifted his weight, “Or if you have nowhere and no-one to turn to, you are welcome to stay here, free of chains in all manners save official. I have my thoughts on what you should choose, but I will not decide for you,”

“Drakena for your thoughts?” She asked,

Adrian looked her dead in the eyes, “Forgive my forwardness, but ‘off’ is the general direction in which I wish for you to bugger. I rather enjoy the peace of solitude, thank you,”

In Axidemir, the phrase had made no sense to Lyanni, however she pretended that she understood his meaning.

Adrian suddenly winced and jerked his head to the side, eyes flickering blue before returning to normal (Or was glowing like a spectre normal? She didn’t know). He spoke, seemingly addressing ghosts if anyone at all, “What is it? I’m off duty!” A moment of silence, then, “Shit! Okay, that warrants me being on duty again. I’ll be right over,”

He turned back to her, “Listen, there are matters that require my attention. If you wish to leave, that window…” He pointed to a glass panel on the side of the full wall window, “…leads down to a series of outcroppings that you should have no trouble navigating down to the valley.”

He curtsied to her, then turned on the spot like a mechanical soldier and marched out the door, audibly locking it behind him as he marched down the street.

Lyanni wasted no time rushing to open the container he had left behind and sorting through it for her things. She found her old travelling clothes, her shawl and hood, as well as the sheathes for her too-many knives, reverently packing them onto the table as she did.

She panicked for a moment when she couldn’t find the knives themselves, only to realise there was another compartment in the container that housed weapons.

And finally, at the bottom of the stack was her old pendant. She audibly let fly a rather verbose cuss at whomever had packed the container. So verbose, in fact, that her father would’ve been proud had he heard it.

She carefully inspected the crystal and the amulet it was inlaid into, ensuring it had not been damaged. Carefully she gripped it, turning the outer covering and it’s design of rolling storm clouds (As Hestavi storm-herder had always been her patron god, she inlaid their designs into everything), and watching with relief as the crystal began to cast a bright light straight ahead.

She clutched the pendant to her chest and walked over to the window, ensuring that it truly was unlocked, and to her surprise it readily swung open when she touched it.

She had no intention to stay, so she quickly threw on her old studded leather gear and shawl, secured her belts and the hilts wherein lay her knives, and fastened the amulet around her neck, half inlaying it into her chest piece so that it would not fall off.

She pulled up her cowl and face covering, then silently slipped out of the window and onto the ledge, landing in a crouch with no more than a silent rush of air to mark the action. She looked around, and indeed she could see a set of spaced, artificial outcroppings leading down to a lower platform, and a tunnel that ran into the cliff-face.

She tasted fate on the breeze. This was her freedom. Destiny was at work as she took a step toward the edge of the overhang.

She looked down. It was quite a drop, something she didn’t quite appreciate, but one she could still cross with relative ease. It was the way to go.

She looked up at the looming spires of the city, dripping down vines and other greenery from on high. She wondered what could’ve warranted an Angel’s attention that immediately.

She paused for a moment. Curiosity was fighting rather hard against her better judgement, telling her to tail Adrian and see what he got up to.

Yet freedom was tantalisingly close after so long! Why could she not simply take the leap? Why did her own inquisitive nature choose that exact moment to fight back against sweet release?

She suddenly did not even feel so certain about the scent of fate. She knew she was at a crossroads of sorts, and she knew she was fated for a destiny down one or the other path, yet she couldn’t figure out which one was meant for her. To run as she had fo how long? Or to stay in shadows and learn, as she had come to do in those days of running.

Fate blows as it will. Resist it, whether conscious to the action or not, and it will always steer you back on course, She heard the echo of her father’s words from so long ago. Words who’s wisdom had been lost on a mere child at the time, yet found their mark so many years later, Do what your heart tells you, and all will work itself out,

She clutched the pendant around her neck and looked up over the ridge once more. She knew what her heart wanted.

Putting blind trust in Hestavi and their winds, she scaled the wall back into the city, crawling into a shadow and scurrying up a wall to the safety of the rooftops at her earliest convenience.

She would leave, alright. Eventually.

But what was freedom if not the ability to go where you want when you want? And the freedom to choose when to make herself scarce was one she had decided to practice.

After all, what was a witch who questioned nothing of that which she barely understood?

#writeblr #fiction #writing #sci fi #sorta science fantasy because of the medieval backdrop but no magic and overall the backdrop us very grounded in fact #rough draft #novel #wip #Children of the stars

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beskarberry · 3 years ago

Text

Snakes and Ladders

(Naga!Oberyn Martell xf!Reader)[+18]

“Were you expecting someone else, little mouse?” He purred sweetly, leaning his weight on the closest pillow, which surprisingly didn't squish under his weight. "Come closer, I will not bite you. Unless you ask me to."

Summary: Arranged marriages are common in Westeros, and an exceptional way for minor Houses to forge alliances with their neighbors, but as the last unwed daughter of House Blackhaven you're left with the political tablescraps: Dorne. Are the horror stories about the Red Viper just fable, or are they more terrifying than you ever could have imagined?

Rating: Explicit baby you know it

Word count: 7.5k

Content warnings: Blatant disregard for GoT canon. Monsterfucking with a snake man, arranged marriage scenario, predator/prey dynamics, oral m and f receiving, 69, monster cocks/double cocks (hemipenises) double penetration, breath play. architecture porn uhh some other stuff just sprinkled in like praise, biting, breeding sorta? vore if you really squint.

A/N: Toot toot! All aboard the Monsterfucking train! Midnight bound for Lel's Monsterfuckin' Emporium!! Conquer your Ophidiophobia while Prince Oberyn conquers you!

Sea salt.

That was the first thing you smelled from inside the carriage that you’d been living out of for the last week that wasn’t desert wind or horse dung. It’d been an agonizing journey from your home in Blackhaven, first the rugged steppes of the Princes’ Pass, to the infinitely undulating dunes of the Dornish desert; but after days of travel you were finally nearing your goal.

Sunspear, the capital of Dorne, couldn’t be more than a few more hours east if the ocean was already reaching you, and though you were excited to finally see the beautiful city, you were also terrified of what lay at its heart.

The monster you were to be wed to.

You’d never even met Prince Oberyn, but you’d heard the stories. Everyone had. They called him the Red Viper. He was ferocious, they said, his silver tongue coated with venom that he spat at any who displeased him. They said he was just as sly and ill-tempered as the beast he was named for, but worst of all, they said he was a beast!

A monster, born from the unholy union between a man and a dragon, his heart as cold as his blood. You'd heard that his skin was covered in horrible, slimy scales, and that his teeth were long and jagged. Someone even said he might have a tail. His hideous, malformed body was why he stayed hidden in the wasteland city.

The thought of being his wife made you sick to your stomach, but it wasn’t like you had any say in the matter. You were the third daughter of the lord of Blackhaven, the last to be wed, and your father had deemed you to be the olive branch bridging the gap between your hometown and Sunspear. Your eldest sister had gone to Highgarden, and the middle one had crossed the great sea to Storm’s End, leaving you with Sunspear.

Yippee.

Your father didn’t care that you didn’t want to marry, especially to such a loathsome creature as Oberyn, but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. To him you were nothing more than a pawn on his political chess board, another bargaining chip in the game of thrones.

When the rumble under the carriage changed from dirt road to cobblestone, you pushed your face against the ‘window’ –a carved wooden cross hatching to keep a lady from getting too much sun, though from inside the carriage it looked more like prison bars to you. From your poor vantgage you could see the sprawling desert, russet and ochre sands baked golden in the high sun. Farther away there were palm trees growing up near a river that drained into the sea, strategically placing Sunspear on a fertile valley. The city was well known for its citrus fruits, lemons, oranges, grapefruits, but you’d never had a fresh one. The only way they could reach Blackhaven was if they were dried, and fruit jerky just isn’t the same.

Hopefully your new husband would allow you to eat them.

A shadow passing overhead distracted you momentarily – the archway into the city. Immediately there was a change in the air, the tangy aroma of orange and clove, the sound of people in the market square, palm fronds whispering secrets to each other with the wind. The townsfolk paid no mind to your carriage, but you couldn’t take your eyes off them.

They were beautiful, in every sense of the word. They wore brightly colored clothes of ruby reds and orchid purples decorated with bits of gold and turquoise, their kaleidoscopic attire bringing out their very best feature: their smiles.

The people of Sunspear looked… happy! Big smiles, wide gestures, groups of families coming together in the market. Merchant stalls went past you as your carriage continued down the lane, selling all manner of exotic merchandise; well, exotic to you.

Fruits you’d never seen heaped out of gilded crates next to impossibly-high towers of spices. Silk scarves and dresses billowed in the brilliant sunlight, glittering with interwoven filaments of silver and gold. Chirping caught your ear from the other side of your transport, and you nearly jumped across the carriage to look out the other window. Cages of strange animals, with fur and feathers and scales galore, made all kinds of racket as you passed by. The merchant held up a sapphire blue snake for you to see that was so pretty you wanted to reach out and touch it, but the bars of your own cage kept you from doing so.

Could this gorgeous city really have a monster for a prince?

The market passed and gave way to a beautiful courtyard lined with sandstone arches and colorful fruit trees. Marble pathways decorated with colossal urns and delicate floral arrangements cast shadows on your carriage they were so tall. In the center of the green was a three tiered fountain bubbling joyously as water sprayed from its serpent-shaped spouts.

From above you the carriage driver called the horses to a halt, and your heart tried to lurch right out your throat, but maybe from the sudden reality of the situation more than the sudden stop.

It was time to meet your husband.

You wished you were more presentable, the journey having done a number on your clothes and hair. A bath would be nice, but if prince Oberyn really was the monster everyone claimed him to be then maybe he wouldn't mind if you smelled a bit like horse. You stood up in the carriage, trying not to bump your head, and smoothed out your clothes as best you could, adding a spritz of perfume and one of your family brooches to your dress for good measure.

When the door opened you were nearly blinded by the Dornish sun, much brighter here than in your neighboring fiefdom. A sturdy hand reached to grab you, and the spike in adrenaline – plus standing up too fast – nearly had you falling out of the cart. Could this be him?

"Easy there, young lady." Came the familiar voice of the carriage driver. Nope, not him. "Ya nearly toppled! Are ya alright?"

"Fine, thank you." You let him help you down from the carriage, thanking him several more times for the ride here. He was quickly overrun by Dornish teamsters, the palace staff making fast work of your luggage. After them came the handmaidens, and you couldn't help but gasp.

They were beautiful, though apparently so was everything else in the city, so really you shouldn't be surprised. They wore dresses of the finest lavender silk, and gently-fitted collars made of golden filigree bearing the sigil of House Martell: a serpent coiled around a spear passing through the heart of a sun. It matched the coiling snake arm bands they wore quite nicely.

Smiling and perfectly moisturized, the gaggle of sweet ladies welcomed you with open arms like you were coming home, and in a sense, you were. Sunspear would be your home now, and if the city and the citizens were this wonderful, maybe having a monster of a husband wouldn't be so bad.

Speaking of which, you didn't see the king-to-be anywhere in the crowd of onlookers. Surely such a brute of a man would stick out, and truthfully why wasn't he greeting you at the door? He really must be hideous.

The wonderful maidens led you through the palace entryway and through the halls made of the same sandstone you'd seen when you'd come through the market; though these were infinitely more ornate. Carved with intricate geometric patterns, the walls towered high above you towards vaulted ceilings painted deep velvet blue and illustrated with gilded constellations. Lanterns with panes of stained glass hung from long, seemingly delicate chains, swinging gently in the warm summer breeze that passed easily through the wide open archways.

And this was just the front damn door.

Eventually you were brought to a small bath chamber, though its size did nothing to diminish its ornateness. It was just as regal as the rest of the halls you'd seen: a copper, clawfoot tub was the centerpiece here, crouching over hot coals like a dragon making its nest. Incense wafted lazily from censers in the corners, the clean white smoke drifting lovingly through the leaves of countless potted plants native to the Dornish desert.

A hot bath was exactly the thing you needed, but instead of leaving you to your own devices the handmaidens insisted on undressing and washing you. You'd never had anyone offer to wash you before, Blackhaven was too small and too poor for such frivelties, but they wouldn't take no – or the fact that you've been traveling for a week and stank of horse dung – for an answer.

Rose petals and orange slices floated temptingly on the water's surface, and that was just the start to your pampering. The ladies lovingly scrubbed you from your head to your feet, exfoliating away your travels like they'd never even happened. Your hair was washed, dried, brushed and done up pretty, and by the time you stepped – radiant and glowing – out of the bathtub, you finally felt like the royalty you were meant to be.

"Let's get you dressed, my lady." stated a handmaiden that had introduced herself as Yrell. "Prince Oberyn is very eager to meet you!"

oh shit right.

"Why haven't I seen the prince yet? And why haven't I seen any arrangements being made for the wedding?"

"The prince likes his guests to get a taste of Dornish culture before they meet him. It makes it… easier."

"So he is a monster, then?" You asked as two of the other maidens presented you with your clothes.

Wait, no those are definitely not yours.

A ruby red silk dress with gold inlay seemed to flow like wine in the maid's hands, so ethereal in its craftsmanship that it almost didn't look real. Certainly nothing even remotely like it had ever passed through the gates of Blackhaven.

Once again, gorgeous. Everything in Dorne was abso-fuckin-lutely gorgeous. And that's when it hit you.

It's a distraction.

The perfect promenade, the wonderful bazaar, the kindhearted handmaidens were all orchestrated to fill your eyes with stars so you couldn’t see the truth.

"Yrell… tell me the truth. I deserve to know! Is he really a monster?!"

"My lady," she whispered, eyes downcast. "With all due respect, you'll have to make that judgment for yourself like all the others."

"Others?! What others?!"

"I'm sorry, my lady, I don't mean to offend, but… you're not the first lady promised to the prince…"

Standing there, naked and dripping with your jaw on the floor, you waited with bated breath for her to explain herself. It was clear she was uncomfortable, but obviously this wasn't the first time she'd had this little chat.

"None of the other ladies have been able to… uh...stomach him."

You listened in horror as Yrell told you of four other ladies who had been betrothed to the prince while you were dressed to prepare to meet him. All four had found the prince so horrible and repulsive that they ran for the hills before the wedding could commence, preferring exile to a lifetime with him. The finery fit you like it had been made for no other, and though it should have made you feel like a goddess, it made you feel like you were being dressed for your own funeral.

The beauty of Sunspear seemed tarnished now, more so even than when you had been stuck in the carriage imagining all the insidious scenarios awaiting you before your wheels had even hit the sand. Now it was real, and really happing, and really really fucking awful. No amount of false grins or gilded treasures could change reality for you now.

“It’s alright, my lady,” soothed Yrell, trying her best to be comforting. “Perhaps you won’t mind him so much.”

She patted you gently on the shoulder, avoiding your wet, glistening eyes that threatened to spill at any moment. The door to the prince’s chambers was heavier than the few others you had seen in the wide open palace. Imported oak bound in iron, decorated with shields bearing the mark of the Martells, it could easily be mistaken for the entry to the dungeon.

Maybe it was.

The door creaked ominously as it swung open, spilling firelight across the mosaic tile floor. Torches crackled in sconces on the wall, snapping and biting at you as if the prince would let them eat you before he got the chance. Wide stairs vanished into the dark, and for a moment you contemplated tripping yourself down them rather than face the beast in the cellar.

Slowly you descended into the void, the velvet slippers you’d been given making almost no noise. Your dress trailed behind you, pouring like blood in your wake. At least if you died today, you would die beautiful.

As you neared the bottom of the stairwell, you caught the first glimpse of the princes’ chambers, causing you to pause a moment. Just like the rest of the city, the palace, the everything, this room was ornately decorated, though it was much bigger than any other you had seen.

The ceiling towered so far above you that it was partially obscured by the billowing incense smoke as if it had its very own weather system. Light filtered down through the haze from the stained glass dome covering the room, thousands of panes in a kelidoscope of colors casting geometric rainbows across the sandstone columns holding it up. Coiled around the pillars, enormous gold snakes seemed to slither to life under the dancing hues, their jewel-set eyes winking mischievously back at you.

Velvet on wool scuffed quietly as you crossed the enormous floor rug between you and the far area of the room, your heart thundering in your ears as you scanned for the beast that would certainly jump out and eat you. But why would a beast have such a beautiful enclosure? That’s just how Dorne is, it’s all a beautiful faca-

“Lady Blackhaven, I presume?”

A voice, rich and dark as sunsoaked amber, sang your name from what seemed to be a pile of crimson and gold sequin throw pillows. The lovely voice was followed suddenly by a man standing up from the plush pile, and oh, everything is gorgeous in Dorne.

By the Seven, there couldn’t possibly be any way that he was the ferocious Red Viper you had heard so much about, and certainly couldn’t be the beast of Sunspear. Though he was still somewhat too far away to make out clearly, your eyes couldn’t help going wide, and your cheeks couldn’t help going hot.

His lower half was obscured by the ridiculous collection of sparkly red pillows – must be his favorite color because wow there were a lot, like a fuckin nest or something – but his visible top half was worthy of being immortalized in marble.

Skin sun-bronzed gold matched the serpentine sigil of his House, rich and healthy from a lifetime in the sun. You could see so much of it with him only covered by a blue and silver sash draped around his neck. Is he even wearing pants?! Onyx-black hair framed his face from the top of his curly head to the bottom of his razor-sharp jaw, with a few stragglers making their way down between his bare pecs that led to a thicker treasure trail running over his muscular abdomen. All that was partially obscured by a long gold necklace with a square shape on its end, the chain reaching all the way to his naval.

That was definitely a prince.

“P-prince Oberyn?”

You found that strange enough to halt in your tracks. He wouldn't even stand to greet you? His own future queen? Must be a trap, maybe the beast is kept under the floor or something. Also, rude.

"That's not very gentlemanly of you, my prince. A man should greet a lady, not the other way around."

Oberyn seemed taken aback by your forwardness, but not offended. “A lady who knows what she wants, I like that. Since you insist.” As he moved, the sequined pillows moved too, and the very silly notion that the prince had made himself a pillow fort popped briefly in your head.

But they kept moving.

And moving...

No…

They were slithering.

The illusion of the crimson finery dissipated like incense smoke on the Dornish breeze as the once-pillows followed the prince up, up, up, and revealed themselves to be what they really were.

His tail.

Oberyn’s lower half hadn’t been obscured at all, it had been coiled around him in long, undulating waves of scaled flesh; and the serpents decorating every square inch of Sunspear now made more sense.

He rose slowly from where he had been awaiting your arrival, reaching the height of a tall man, then a horse, then a giant, until he was practically looming above you from the far side of the room.

And then he was coming towards you, just like you had demanded. Great idea, asshole. Scales on his belly caught the cathedral of lights sparkling from above in their iridescent shimmer, luring your gaze until you were almost hypnotized. But fear kept you focused on the approaching creature that had snaked right out of your nightmares, your heart a rabbit in your chest that he could probably hear like prey in its burrow waiting to be eaten.

The moment you took a step back to retreat from the encroaching serpent, he lunged for you, owning up to his namesake in a blink of an eye. Crimson scales flashed threateningly around you as he coiled, putting you in the eye of a bloody hurricane before you were face-to-face with the man himself.

“Welcome to Sunspear, Lady Blackhaven, I am Prince Oberyn Martell.” Up close now, you could see him more clearly. His eyes were the color of antique brass, split down the middle with slitted pupils. They flashed coin-like when he smiled, though his grin was that false, people-pleasing kind that develops from being in a place of political power. His teeth were white and perfectly flat, and truthfully you found that odd. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I was expecting you to run the moment you laid eyes on my horrific body. Am I not as beastly and terrifying as the ravens make me out to be?”

You found yourself transfixed by the prince, unable to tear yourself away from his face. His eyes, his pouty, slightly-sneering lips, his coarse dark hair. You followed that trail you’d spotted earlier down, following the chain of Dornish gold to where his hips should be. His scales started here, first small and tightly packed, then wide and broad where they continued down his front. His belly scales were like plates, but his body scales were like spears. Triangular and razor sharp, they covered him in impenetrable scarlet armor that any warrior would be honored to wear into battle. Along his spine, however, they were thicker, taller and almost pyramid-like, giving you a crystal clear view of his draconic heritage.

“No.”

The single syllable brought the muscular coils to a sudden halt, the prince suddenly frozen in his confusion. “No?”

“No. I mean, well, yes. You are a beast, but I’m not scared of you.”

“You must be lying.” He accused, but you shook your head. “Have you been drugged? Bribed? Are you sick with moon madness?” He could not believe that you weren’t afraid, his beautifully angular face growing more and more confused. “But… I am a monster!”

A flash of pearly white snapped from his mouth as his fangs distended, hidden daggers folded up against the roof of his mouth. They were as long as your thumb each, their needle-like points glistening with venom and spittle. Behind those, his long, forked tongue snaked out to lick the air inches from your face, and you could swear his jaw had come unhinged.

The blood in your face drained, but only to pool somewhere else.

“No, I’m still not scared of you.” You said softly, reaching your hand out to him slowly. He saw it and recoiled with a jerk, but when he saw no blade hidden in your sleeve, he allowed himself to be touched by you.

His breath left his lungs with a shudder at your touch, the tip of his tail twitching nervously. You cupped his jaw, feeling the scruff against your palm and ever-so-carefully angling your thumb toward a fang.

“No!” he shouted, snatching your wrist with lightning speed. “I mean, I’m sorry, but I’m venomous, and I would hate for you to get hurt.” The fangs disappeared the next second, vanishing into the sheaths hidden behind his teeth. His grip on your wrist lessened, but didn’t let you go. Instead, he brought the back of your hand up to his lips and kissed it, like a gentleman should when greeting a lady.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Prince Oberyn.” Against your skin the bristles of his mustache tickled you when he smiled, and you of course smiled back. “Can I touch your scales? They’re not venomous, right?”

“You may touch anything you like except for my fangs, my lady.” He gestured to himself with a strong, broad hand. A hand that looked so wonderful and rugged that you decided to start there.

Taking his hand in yours, you traced the inside of his palm, the tips of his fingers, the ridges of his knuckles. You trailed up his lean forearms through the dusting of dark hair, circled his elbow, and rode the hill of his bicep towards his wide shoulders.

Oberyn watched you like he was witnessing the sun rise for the first time, awestruck and mystified. You wanted to touch him? Touch the serpent of Sunspear that had horrified so many outsiders before? Surely this must be a farce.

His thoughts were cut off by your return to his face, gliding your fingers over his edges and curves. With no fangs to threaten you now, you gently brushed your thumb across his lower lip, and he snapped at you playfully. “Are all Blackhaven women this brave?”

“I’m not brave, you’re just not as scary as I thought you would be.” He hmph’ed in disbelief at that. “Ok yeah you’re pretty terrifying, but you’re also just… pretty.”

“Pretty?” He chewed the word, his face going flush with it.

“Yeah,” You met his eyes, flicking your gaze down to his lips, trying to convey your desire. “Pretty.”

He took the hint, albeit slowly, and leaned down to kiss you. At first he was tentative, gentle and maybe a little bit still in shock, but when you hummed your pleasure at the pillowy softness of his kiss, he let it deepen. Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him so you were flush against his bare chest, the warm metal of his medallion sharp against your sternum. You let yourself touch him too, lacing your fingers through the dark curls on the back of his head.

Around you the ruby coils tightened slowly, closing the room into just the pair of you. The heat of them was surprising if he was supposed to be cold blooded. Before Oberyn could brave a lick into your mouth, curiosity drove you to touch his serpentine tail.

“Oh!” You broke the kiss to exclaim, splaying your palm wide over the array of living blades. “I thought you’d be slimy, but you’re not!”

Oberyn’s laugh was rough but warm, like the crash of the ocean against the Dornish sands. “And I thought the first kiss was reserved for the wedding with these kinds of things. What other secrets will we learn about each other today?”

“Hmmm….” You pondered playfully, tapping your index finger to your lips. “Thank you for giving me this lovely dress, my prince.” Turning slightly, you swished the dress to entice him, a catty smile on your face. “But wouldn’t you like to have your gift unwrapped?”

The slits of his eyes dilated wide, a heat creeping boldy across his face. “So you truly aren’t going to run away screaming from me? You… want me?”

“Has nobody ever wanted you before? Are you-”

“No, little mouse, I am not innocent. I have loved and been loved by the women and men of Sunspear.”

“Is that why they all look so happy?”

“Do you want to find out?”

“Yes.”

Your given consent was the last barrier, one that not even a monster would dare to cross, but with that gate flung open by you closing the distance between your bodies, Oberyn knew that having to wait for the right queen had made all the difference.

Nimble hands crept under the hem of your dress, the exotic fabric falling effortlessly off your shoulders as the prince revealed your body. You attempted to return the favor by tugging off the celestial scarf draped over his neck, the single article of clothing disappearing behind the undulating waves of red scales.

“Look at you…” he mused, adoration dripping like a pleasant venom. The handmaidens hadn’t given you any undergarments, putting all of you on display for your husband-to-be. “Had I known the women of Blackhaven were so beautiful, I would have started there.” He kissed your lips roughly, then your cheek, your jaw, nipping at your pulse point gently as you started to melt into his embrace. “Do you taste as good as you look, little mouse?”

He didn’t wait for an answer, though as soon as his forked tongue laved across your collarbone you knew you couldn’t give him one anyway. The Red Viper dragged the elongated muscle up your throat, flicking at your ear with a pleased hiss. Your heart thundered, primal instincts kicking into high gear at the sound, drawing Oberyn's lust. “I frighten you, don’t I? But I can tell you like it. I can see where the heat is pooling between your thighs, and I want to taste it.”

Something thick and heavy pressed against your back, the serpent prince’s coils supporting you as he pushed you gently backwards, laying you out underneath him on a bed of ruby and gold. Laying on the scales was surprisingly not uncomfortable, the warm, muscular body feeling more like cuddling a well-beloved pet instead of a half-dragon lover.

You wrapped your legs around his ‘hips’, trying to grind against him as you would a human man, but as far as you could feel, there wasn’t anything there to grind on. “Um, my prince, where’s your-?”

“They’re there.” He said, lifting off you enough to look down between your pressed bodies. There was nothing there. Uh oh. He saw your puzzlement and laughed. “They’re inside.”

“They?? Inside?? I don’t understand.”

“Would you like to explore my body while I explore yours? I’m certain the lady of Blackhaven is as smart as she is beautiful, no?” Waves of crimson rose and fell around you, coils tightened around your body and turned you gently, though the man-sized tube of pure muscle could crush you like an insect if it wanted to. The prince moved you around like you were nothing but a play-thing, and soon you found yourself on top of him with your ass in the air and your legs framing his chiseled face.

“How did-?! Ah~!” Your confusion was cut off abruptly by the sudden intrusion of a long forked tongue, the inuman length of it fully capable of licking to your core. Oberyn hummed in delight, hooking his arms around your thighs and anchoring you to his hungry maw. He lapped at your cunt like a man starved, flicking hibus beastly appendage against your sensitive bundle of nerves before stuffing it back up your pussy. Wet with saliva and your juices, he happily tongue-fucked you into oblivion.

You fell forward against his crotch-but-not-a-crotch, coming face to face with where his skin began to turn to scales. Through the haze of your pleasure you saw where the first two big plates on his belly were parting, showing the first glimpse of a meaty fissure underneath.

Inside.

Mustering all your focus, you shifted forward against Oberyn’s grip, the prince smushing his face into your cunt like a greedy dog having his dinner threatened. He stiffened when he felt you push gently against the scales, attempting to splay them wider. As soon as you touched him, Oberyn bucked into your hands, a shiver going down the entire length of his snakey body.

Under your fingertips the slit opened wider, exposing his most delicate treasures. Between the silky wet walls of his snussy, two little nubs pulsed in time with his heartbeat, already swelling before you’d even touched them.

“Please, my lady,” he begged between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs and the dip of your slit, asking you with his mouth for you to return the favor.

It was difficult with him licking your brain stem with his tongue so deep in you, but you managed to lean down and lap experimentally at the wound that never heals. Oberyn moaned into you at the contact, his rugged baritone sending a chill up your spine and a fresh gush into his mouth. You took the sudden opportunity to plunge your tongue into him as well, running your significantly shorter one over the two sensitive beans.

They throbbed happily, riding the princes’ tightening abs to be pressed harder against your mouth. Whatever they were, they were as needy as your clit, but soon grew much bigger in size than yours. As soon as you were able to, you suckled on one, tasting the familiar saltiness of precum; and that’s when you realized what you were sucking on were his two penises.

Oh hot damn.

A slight twist beneath you and the sudden weight of a coil on your back had your face pressed as deep into his groin as physics would allow, his almost-fully-hard first cock nudging at the back of your throat. Oberyn could snap your spine in two like this, but even lost in the bliss of your taste, and the sweet sensation of your lips around his dick, he was still cognizant enough not to hurt you.

You were not as strong, the familiar wave of pleasure creeping down your spine to where Oberyn had your pearl teased between the forks of his tongue, and you knew you were almost to the edge. The cock in your mouth rocked against your throat, the second one demanding your attention with an insistent throb. There was no more room between your teeth, so you wrapped your fingers around it and gently tugged on the velvet length; matching the movements of your hands with your mouth.

“Cum, little mouse,” he purred wetly, the thick meat of his tongue slithering against your deepest patch of nerves.You did as your prince commanded, letting his cock pop free from your mouth as your walls bore down around his thick tongue. He drank straight from your source, your fountain of vigor bringing his cocks to their full hardness. They were warm against your cheek as you rode through your orgasm, the pretty pink spires excited to know you inside and out.

Oberyn kissed and licked sweetly at your thighs and cunt, greedily cleaning all your juices off and claiming them for himself. “You are finer than Arborian wine, my lady. I could get drunk on the taste of you alone.” he said as the coil across your back slithered gently forward, coming up underneath you and pulling you up. You rode with it until you were straddling him like a horse, his cocks throbbing up between your legs. “Look how badly I want you, need you. May I pleasure you in the way only a monster can?”

“You’re no monster, Oberyn. You are my prince, and I expect you to pleasure me as such.”

His cocks jumped to attention, beads of shiny precum glistening at their pointy tips. They were both thicker than the average man, but Oberyn was far from average in every sense. His broad hands snaked down to your hips, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass and sliding you forward until one of his cocks notched at your slick entrance. Stretched and soaking wet, you took him easily, mewling out the prince's name as he filled you. The second one jutted out in front of you as if it were your own, leaving a pool of slick on his broad belly scales.

“By the Seven, you are divine,” he groaned from behind you, watching with lust-blown eyes as your cunt swallowed his shaft. Your ass bounced when it came down on him, his scaly hips leaving indents in the supple flesh. Rocking forward you were able to grind yourself along his second cock, the meaty thing slipping between your folds as you rubbed your clit on it. It disappeared and reappeared under the crest of your belly as you danced the timeless dance of lovers, a shining patch of your slick catching the light streaming down from above with each pass.

“That’s it, my lady, grind yourself to completion on my cock. Let me feel you come undone so I can fill you all the way.” Precum drooled excitedly from his wanting cock, the one plunged inside you doing the same until it oozed back out; leaving your thighs and his tail slick with passion. The tip of his body – seemingly miles away, he was so long – flicked and thrashed, unable to hide his need to fuck you with both cocks.

You rode him diligently, feeling him stretch you from within. The thick veins that stood out on his second cock rubbed gloriously against your sensitive little pearl, beating in time with the thunder of his heart. Heat built threateningly in your chest, blooming like desert roses as your next crest loomed. Oberyn felt it coming, the way your walls throbbed and pulsed around him, making him curse and sweat until you came with a shudder and a scream.

“Thaaat’s it… that’s my good girl.” He purred –no, growled as you squelched around his cock, making a mess on his scales. “So wet… you can take all of me, can’t you, pretty mouse?”

Lust hazed and shaking, you managed the most pitiful little uh huh, breaking Oberyn’s last straw of resolve. Greedy as the dragon that birthed him, the serpent prince curled up against you, caging you in with his warrior-strong arms. Hands splayed wide against your ribs and over the fat of your breast, taking hungry handfuls of you for himself until his chest was flush with your spine, hot breath fanning against your ear. The cock within you slid out until just the tip was caught between your slick folds before it was joined by it’s twin.

Stars exploded behind your eyes as Oberyn stuffed both his cocks into you, stretching you so wide you thought he would tear you in half. A silent scream caught in your throat when he bottomed out, every muscle in your body tight and quivering with pain and pleasure. Your cunt gushed damningly around him as if it were starved, salivating hungrily for more.

Which, of course, he would give you.

“You’re so tight, my lady,” the rough-hewn voice grated in your ear, breath like fire against your skin. “How does it feel? To be fucked by a beast?”

“S’good…m-m…”

“Oh? Speak up, little mouse. Tell me what you want. Beg.”

“M-more!”

Dark laughter rumbled like a hurricane brewing over the wide open sea, a herald of unimaginable devastation.

“As you wish.”

The world around you spun, walls of crimson scales coiling around you as the Red Viper put you underneath him. His massive, muscular body slipped under and around you, tying itself in knots until there was nowhere for you to escape from the prince pressed against your back. The tip of his tail, thin and whip-like, curled up under your arms and over your shoulders until it was snaking around your neck, threatening your airway and locking you in place.

You were trapped, just like prey.

“I can taste your fear, pretty girl.” The monster sneered, his long forked tongue darting out to lick along your jaw. “I can taste that you like this.” Brilliant white fangs flashed into your line of sight with a venomous hiss, and your pussy squelched incriminatingly around his double-stuffed dicks. Oberyn groaned at your pulsing walls, rocking his hips into you needily. “If you keep doing that to me, I’ll fuck you pregnant before we even exchange vows.”

Though the rope of living flesh was tied snugly around your throat, it wasn’t tight enough to suppress your ability to laugh. “I’d like… to see.. you… try.”

His cocks throbbed so strongly within you that they slipped past each other, causing you to convulse from the rearrangement of your guts. “Are you challenging me, Lady Blackhaven?” he seethed, his bladed scales starting to sting your flesh as they began to tighten. Your nod was faint, but he still felt it against his scruffy cheek. “Then I accept.”

His arms tightened like a seatbelt around your waist and between your breasts, and the scaly noose around your throat teased to do so as well. You felt more than saw everything turning, spinning, writhing as the serpent prince constricted around you in a ball, rendering you completely motionless for him to fuck to his heart’s delight.

And fuck you he did. Though he was almost entirely made of muscle, without legs he had no other way to thrust into you than to pull you against him, using his never-ending tail to use you like a fuck toy. His body, once soft and somewhat plush the first time you touched it, was now hard as Valyrian steel; every muscle tensing and flexing to rise to your challenge.

Your hungry, over stretched cunt ached with his thrusts, so full you could practically taste him on the back of your tongue. Oberyn, so lost in his pleasure, started to constrict even tighter, the edges of your vision beginning to darken as your airway was closed. Fear rose like bile in the back of your throat, but couldn’t reach your lips to scream. Your body, shaking like the mouse he had called you, betrayed your instinct to flee from the creature by building up another orgasm. White crackled in the corners of your vision, lightning breaking through the dark thunderclouds that would soon black out your sight.

“Come.”

Your prince commanded, and you obeyed, your cunt squelching and convulsing as you soared over the moon. Your eyes, glassy and sightless above your gaping mouth, rolled back in your head as pleasure coursed through your veins, spinning every muscle tighter than bowstrings before turning them all slack.

Oberyn felt the sudden shift in your body, the open vulnerability between your spread legs, and forced every single inch of his twin cocks into you, putting the gates of your womb under siege. His tail fell limply off of your neck, allowing sweet, precious oxygen to flow into your desperately burning lungs; but you weren’t free from the demon’s desire just yet.

Where his tail had been you felt a new heat, this one wet and jagged where the tail had been scaly and warm; and you knew it to be his mouth. His fanged, venomous, unhinged mouth.

He really could swallow you whole if he wanted to.

Something long, wet and slimy slipped out from where he had you by the scruff of your neck, the smooth muscle of his mouth laving over your rapidly-beating pulse point and driving his hunting instincts wild. His mouth went all the way from ear to ear, your spinal column in the perfect position for him to crush it if he so chose. But of course, he wanted you – needed you – alive and well; but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease.

You felt his bite tighten, his fangs nudging your windpipe; one wrong move and they would puncture your trachea and drown you in venom, but not before he took his pleasure from you. His sweaty chest stuck to your back, his scales dug into your skin, and the threat of his fangs dragged along your jugular as Oberyn fucked you to his own completion.

When he came, everything got impossibly tighter. The living ropes of his coils seized around every inch of you both, his hands dug so hard into your flesh that you could almost swear he was touching bone, but worst of all his fangs pressed ever-so-slightly into your flesh; and the threat of death became almost too real. Hot cum spooged out of you, soaking you and the prince in his pearly white sneed, seeping through the spaces between his coils and ruining the rugs beneath you.

His entire body heaved with his ragged breath, the prince winded even though he had lungs bigger than your legs. Slowly, with practiced, noble grace, he unlocked his mouth from around your neck, peppering the pattern his scales had left in your flesh with gentle kisses of adoration. Every coil he unraveled revealed the same pattern of his scales impressed into your skin, a temporary tattoo marking his conquest.

They were just pretty enough that you might get them inked on you for real.

“Are you alright, my lady? I didn’t hurt you too much, did I?” He asked sweetly, a calloused hand cupping your chin to turn you to face him. His slitted eyes – glittering more beautifully than Lanister gold – searched yours for any sign that he’d hurt you. In his post-orgasmic bliss the lines of his face had softened drastically, a youthful glow to his sun-gilded skin. Sweat beaded on his brow, his jet-black curls sticking to the worry-grooves on his forehead, but best of all was the slight pout to his plush, slightly parted lips. Flushed rosy and swollen with exertion, they begged you to kiss them.

“Does this answer your question?”

You closed the distance between you, crashing your lips to his. He tasted like the sea salt you had smelled coming into Dorne, but somehow so much sweeter. Oberyn sucked a surprised breath, his eyes flashing coin-like before he melted into you, letting his softened cocks drop out of you with a flood of your mixed cum. You felt them drag their wetness across your smooth skin as you turned around to face him, aided by his strength until you were in his arms properly.

The dark bristles of his mustache tickled your nose a bit, making you smile into his kiss. You teased him with a flick of your tongue, finding his with a tentative lick that drew him to kiss you deeper. The pointed forks twisted and entwined around your regular human tongue, seemingly moving independently of each other; yet those were not nearly as alarming as the feel of his fang sheaths. One wrong move, one sudden sneeze, and it would be all over.

But they stayed in their casings, safely away from his bride-to-be. You felt his hand splay against the back of your head, tangling in your hair and holding you tightly to him while he kissed you. When you finally broke for air, you couldn’t help but giggle at the way the prince's eyes fluttered back open, lust-drunk and pleasantly blown.

“I have never been so thankful in all my days that I had to wait for love.” The L word left his lips with the slightest hint of embarrassment, a redness creeping across his cheeks. “I mean, erm, do you think you’ll be happy here, my lady? In Sunspear?”

“With you? As your wife?”

None of the fables you had been told about the fearsome Red Viper had ever painted him as one to be sheepish, yet here he was, looking like a boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar. The bristles framing his lips quirked with his cheeky grin. “Yes, with me?”

“Hmm…” you pondered mischievously, looking around the ornate chambers, taking in the palace decor, the smell of fruit and sunshine, the plushness of the destroyed rug underneath you. You reached out to touch the serpent’s tail, walking your fingers up his long spine, feeling the warm armor of his body. Then you crossed the threshold between where the snake ended and the man began, the sudden thinning of scales giving way to smooth, somewhat-fuzzy flesh that rippled with the muscles underneath it.

Up you continued, touching his broad hands and noticing a ring with the Martell crest on his pinky for the first time. You followed the flow of his forearm, the dip in his elbow, the rise of his biceps and the yoke of his shoulder until you were wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him back to you for one more ensuring kiss.

“For you, my prince? I think it can be… arranged.”

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