#but “I came down from the stars” and he's stuck in human form

[lokiinmediasideblog]

No one, absolutely no one:

Me:

"My Name is Human-Highly Suspect" is a Thor in Thor 1 song

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (pt 15)

Masterpost

The conversation trailed off as the stars came out and Danny started to watch them, head propped against Jason’s shoulder as he stared up at the sky. Jason was content to watch the fire, the flickering was hypnotic. Time passed slowly, until Danny gave a jaw cracking yawn that made Jason chuckle.

“How about we douse the fire and head to bed huh? It’s been a long day,” Jason suggested and Danny nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Jason he got up with a groan. Jason was about to go grab a bucket of water when Danny gestured and a wash of frost rushed over the ground and doused the fire with a sizzle and a puff of smoke and steam. “How many powers do you have?” Jason blurted.

“I don’t even know, I’m still developing them sometimes,” Danny sighed as he shuffled towards the tent “Clockwork says it’s something to do with me being half human. Most ghost’s powers are sort of stuck but I’m still growing and changing so I can keep learning. I sort of eventually figure out any power I see anyone else use. As long as they’re not too specialized, I’m not going to learn time manipulation just cause I saw Clockwork do it.” 

“Clockwork?” Jason asked as he followed Danny. 

“The ancient of time, he keeps an eye out for me. He means well, even though he’s a cryptic asshole most of the time.” 

“Daniel!” A voice Jason didn’t recognize shouted, but he was guessing Danny did, and it was not a welcome visitor by the way he flinched and immediately looked up with glowing green eyes. “I knew if I kept the trackers on you you would leave that god forsaken mansion eventually.” An odd, almost vampiric looking man with red eyes said as he floated down towards them. 

Jason still didn’t recognize the man but he didn't think anyone who looked That sinister could be a good guy. From the way that he was floating and context clues Jason could guess that this was a ghost. God Damn it! He only had one of his normal guns on him, he had put down the blaster! With the stranger's attention on Danny Jason scrambled for his gun.

“Vlad, what part of ‘stay the hell away from me’ don’t you understand?” Danny snarled.

Shit Vlad? Vlad masters the baby daddy? Jason felt a snarl rip its way out of his own throat, the pit swirling furiously inside him making him want to kill something. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling though it didn’t happen as often these days. At least Vlad only seemed to have eyes for Danny, he probably didn’t register Jason as a threat, or even a person of interest. It was a little unflattering but it gave Jason an opening to go for the blaster in his bag.

“I thought you said you would never allow a billionaire to adopt you, clearly something has changed. Come with me Daniel, I understand you infinitely better than Bruce Wayne,” He spat the name with contempt. “I can take care of you and-” 

Jason got the gun and fired, his aim was true, the glowing green blast struck Vlad squarely in the stomach and he reared back with a pained yowl, red eyes snapping to Jason. He touched the wound in his stomach, dripping green blood, it wasn’t as deep as Jason would have liked and it was already healing fast, but Still, he’d done some damage and Vlad seemed furious. 

“You insolent brat!” He growled, holding out hands that were glowing with energy. Jason tensed to dodge but before he could Danny was in front of him, a shield of green energy in front of him. 

“ENOUGH!” Danny yelled, and changed form, shooting up into the sky he fired back at Vlad, rabidly throwing bolts of green energy at him. “I have had ENOUGH! You have drugged me, kidnapped me, threatened my friends, cloned me, and then killed the clones when they weren’t perfect.” Danny landed a hit, Vlad was unable to dodge or block so many in a row and he let out a grunt as Danny struck his chest, pushing him back a few feet. 

Vlad tried to duplicate himself to shield himself but Danny shot them as quickly as they were made, making them disappear in puffs of smoke and screams. Once they were gone he focused again on Vlad. His eyes were glowing even brighter with frustration and rage as he directed both hands at his attacker and shot an even more powerful blast, landing a hit on Vlad that sent him trembling back, clutching a bloody and swollen nose. 

“You are a pathetic, terrible, Lonely failure and you always will be! You will never get what you want! NEVER YOU HEAR ME?! YOu stay the hell away from me and my kids! MY kids! Or I will fucking kill you!” Danny swore, shooting at Vlad again, who barely managed a clumsy dodge. 

“Come now Daniel you don’t mean that,” Vlad said but for the first time he sounded nervous. Danny had never lost his temper like this before, they’d fought, but he’d never even sworn.

They were distracted again and Jason had a clear shot, Vlad was clearly tough if he took a shot to these shots running but he couldn’t be indestructible. He shot again, aiming for the head this time, unfortunately the green glow gave him away and Vlad dropped down to avoid it. Vlad shot back, and Jason threw himself out of the way and rolled back up to his feet, ready to dodge, or fire again. 

“No!” Danny shouted at Vlad, flying at him so fast he barely had time to throw up a shield of his own before Danny collided with him, forcing him back again. His hands pressed against the shield, glowing toxic green before the close range blast broke the shield and sent Vlad tumbling through the air. “I put up with you for the sake of my parents and my secret but now that doesn’t matter anymore I have no reason to go easy on you! I’m done! I’m done with you!” 

And then he screamed, that same earth shattering wail, and with Vlad already knocked off balance, bleeding green from his chest, his nose, and generally beaten to hell, he had no defense. The sound forced him down with more than the force than gravity, the sound and impact leveled trees in a near perfect circle and left a crater in the soft earth at the bank of the lake. And Danny just kept screaming, pushing Vlad deeper into the wet earth. Jason could see that Vlad was screaming too, probably from the pain, but he couldn’t hear anything over the feeling of Danny’s wail.

Jason wanted to clamp his own hands over his ears and block out the sound but he couldn’t, he needed to keep hold of his blaster, and remain ready. The water rushed in and covered Vlad quickly once Danny stopped screaming. Jason bolted towards the edge of the new cove for Vlad to emerge. 

He came up gasping and coughing, floundering before he grabbed the edge of the hole and dragged himself out. Jason was there to meet him with a gun to his head and a glowing green glare of his own. Jason wanted to shoot Vlad and kill him, but he didn’t want to do that in front of Danny. For all he had just said he would kill Vlad Jason didn’t think he really meant it. Danny wasn't a killer at heart.  

“Stay very still,” He said calmly once Vlad had finished hacking up all the water he’d breathed in. He kept one hand on the gun and his finger on the trigger as he pulled a com out of his pocket, sliding it into his ear and turning it on. “O? Are you there?”

“Hood? Report?” Bruce’s clipped ‘batman’ voice came through.

“Vlad crashed the party, Track our location, I have him pinned,” Jason said without taking his eyes off Vlad who was still breathing hard and bleeding, glaring up at him. 

“On our way,” Bruce said quickly. “ETA 18 minutes.” 

“Very well done Todd,” Vlad drawled dryly and Jason twitched, of course since he’d been to Galas Vlad would know who he was, but Jason still did Not like it. “But you might want to look out, I believe young Daniel is in need of rescue.”

Jason knew better, he really did, but he couldn’t help glancing up quickly, and he was glad he did. He was just in time to see Danny revert to his human form and fall. Jason barely managed not to drop the gun as he ran to catch Danny, taking the brunt of the impact and going to his knees to keep them both intact through the landing. 

“Danny?” He gasped, pushing the other man’s hair back from his face, his eyes were closed and he wasn’t responding to his name but he was breathing. Jason glanced over to see Vlad was already gone. “Shit. B, you still there?”

“Yes. What happened Jay?” He asked, sounding more worried, more like Bruce. 

“Danny passed out,” Jason said as he set the other man down, grabbing a light and checking his pupils. “Pupils are responsive but he’s not waking up even with the light shining in his face. Vlad escaped but he couldn’t have gotten far in that condition. Danny really gave him hell.” 

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce said, clipped and determined. Jason could hear the motor in the background, if he was pushing the usually silent jet to the point it was making that sound he really would be there in minutes. 

Jason sat down and pulled Danny nearly into his lap, still holding the gun just in case. He thought Vlad had made a break for it but he didn’t want to let his guard down. After all he had thought Vlad would be smarter then to attack them today, he had clearly underestimated the man’s obsessiveness and stupidity. The last thing he needed now was for Vlad to try and make a break for it with Danny while he was so vulnerable. 

He was rocking just a little, he didn’t know if he was trying to sooth Danny or himself as he waited for Bruce and whichever of his siblings were tagging along to arrive. He thought that he was in shock judging by how vague he felt and the odd aura at the edges of his vision. It was always sort of funny having the vague knowledge that he Was in shock but not really being able to do anything about it.

He looked up when he heard the bat-plane overhead and watched it coming in for a water landing. Finally feeling safe enough to holster his gun, freeing both hands to scoop Danny into his arms, getting up with Danny still cradled close. It wasn’t like the other man was heavy, Jason stumbled just a little as he went over to meet his family as the ramp dropped and they came rushing out. 

“Any idea what’s wrong with him?” Batman asked gruffly, going straight to them pushing a medical gurney.

“I think he just overused his powers,” Jason said numbly, putting Danny down on the rolling bed and followed Bruce back into the plane and the same time Spoiler, Blackbat, and Red Robin took off into the woods, to search for Vlad no doubt. Jason hoped they found him but somehow he doubted they would, Vlad could turn invisible and intangible after all, and Danny hadn’t had time to build them everything they’d need. Even with a decent amount of confiscated Fenton tech Jason didn’t like their odds. 

“He has this sonic attack that's really strong but seems to take a lot out of him. He passed out pretty soon after using it the second time,” He explained, sitting down heavily next to the bed as Bruce fussed and checked Danny’s vitals. 

“His heartbeat is slow but strong, pupils responding, like you said, he isn’t visibly injured. I think you’re right he over used it. We’ll set up an IV just to give him some energy and hydration and hopefully he’ll wake up soon. He’ll be okay Jay,” Bruce said, pausing to rest a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “I’ll take you back to the manor, I’m sure the others will find Vlad.”

“They’ve all got their wards?” Jason asked distractedly and Bruce nodded as he buckled Danny and the gurney in securely so he wouldn’t roll around during transport. “Good, ya, let's go home. I’m sorry, taking him camping was stupid. It was helping but I should have known that with Vlad still out there-”

“No, we didn’t see this coming, it’s not your fault,” Bruce interrupted, before sitting back in the pilot's seat and taking off. 

Jason didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue either. No one had argued with him, he was sure they’d all thought, like he did, that with the entire justice league after him and the ‘woman of his dreams’ behind bars Vlad would have bigger things to worry about. They’d all underestimated just how obsessed with Danny Vlad was, in this family of obsessive assholes it was a particularly foolish mistake.

Next

[selineram3421]

*has a headache* It's ok, I took medicine.

The Observer

Prologue

Alastor X Godlike Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ reader can shape-shift to blend in, mention of blood, eye getting torn out, and wings ripped ⚠

You rolled your eyes as you watched your youngest brother sit atop his thrown, surrounded by angels.

Admittedly, his realm was beautiful but it was quite boring and filled with stuck up persons, but at least there were a few nice souls roaming about.

"Brother, please tell me you have something fun to do?", you asked but did not get a response.

You groaned and shifted into looking like an angel, now visible for the others to see.

Flying down, you approached one of the winged creatures and they stared back at you.

Blink blink.

"Hmm.. Nope. This got boring.", you sigh and shift back. "I'm going downstairs since you are 'so busy' with work.", you say to your brother and make quotation marks with your fingers.

You still don't get a reply.

With that, you cut open a portal and step through it. Shifting into looking like a sinner as your feet touch the grounds of Hell.

Maybe I should visit my nephew.. You thought as you walked down the street, blood, garbage, and some graffiti littered about. Lucifer is quite fun.

Before you could start heading to Lucifer's castle, a startling loud introduction to a tv show began.

A sinner with a television for a head started talking in a fast pace, talking down on what you assume is another sinner.

"Hm..", you crossed your arms.

Then there's a crackle. Turning to the sound, you find a radio behind a glass window.

"Oh! What a lovely vintage!", you say with sparkling eyes.

Humans were very interesting but then they became repetitive and you only checked in when there was something new. You collected quite a bit of the items that were made for fun.

"Salutations! Good to be back on the air.", a voice came through.

You didn't notice the crowd that formed behind you as the two sinners started going back and forth. The radio man not really talking to the other, but the television man trying his best to get the last say.

Then the power went out, the only light coming from the radio that was somehow able to stay on.

"Let's begin~ I'm gonna make you wish I stayed gone. Tune on in. When I'm done, your status quo will know its race has run. Oh, this will be fun~", the broadcast finished.

You were grinning, hiding it behind your hands.

Oh what a funny little fight! I want to see what the winner looks like! I can visit Lucifer after, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. You thought and made your way into a dark alley before shifting.

Now invisible, you glided over to follow the trail of static like magic, finding it connected to the radio that went towards a tower.

It was such and oddly paced thing, looking like it would fall over any minute.

Hm. I should walk through the door of the building it's attached to. You decided and shifted again, looking different than the form you took earlier.

This time you were taller and had a tail like a little devil. Your arms darkening to look like the night sky, with little speckles that looked like stars. Long horns sitting atop of your head that twisted in curls before straightening out.

"Oh, I like this one. I'll save this to wear again.", you said before knocking on the double doors.

It took a second before one of the doors was practically ripped open.

A blonde smiled widely up at you, reminding you of your nephew with the pink on their cheeks.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!", she greeted and stepped out of the way. "Please come in!"

Entering the building, you saw it was a fancy but run down hotel. It was quite nice but could use a little fixing. Too bad that you couldn't do anything to alter any of the realms you visited.

There could be so much you would fix.

"What is your name?", you asked the blonde woman, turning to look at her with a soft smile.

"Oh! My name is Charlie and I am the founder of the hotel! It's purpose is to rehabilitate sinners.", Charlie answered with a beaming smile.

"My! That is very interesting."

You followed her into the lobby and let her speak more about the hotel. Then, as Charlie was speaking, you saw an angel enter the room. Her long white hair flowed with slight movement as she stood next to the blonde.

"Who is this?", she asked, crossing her arms.

She glared at you like you had done something unspeakable.

Oh, what have they done to you? You wondered. If an angel is down here, they must have done something wrong or someone from upstairs unjustly cast them out.

"Oh, um..", Charlie looked at you. "What is your name?"

"I am just here to look around, see something new.", you said. "I have no name but you can call me Penjani."

"What do you mean you have no name?", the angel asked.

"Vaggie-"

"It's alright.", you wave off Charlie's concern. "I was never given a name, I was just created and left to wander."

It was somewhat true.

You did not get a name, but the humans and other creatures of the universe named you many things or didn't even know about you. But that's how its always been.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to..", the angel, Vaggie looked at the floor.

"It's alright, no harm done.", you patted her shoulder.

With contact, you saw why she was down in Hell.

Adam, the first man, had abandoned her after she defied orders. Her wings cut off and her eye tore out by another angel, an exorcist. You took your hand back after seeing all that you needed too. Finding out Charlie was the Princess and family.

"I actually came to see something else too.", you said with a closed eyed smile.

The two looked at you, curious.

"What else did you want to see?", the Princess asked.

You pointed up. "Who occupies the tower?", you asked. "The black one with red tinted windows."

That is when you actually started to feel the buzz from the static you were following earlier. It crawled across your skin, leaving tingles as it passed down.

Then a new voice spoke up.

"That would be me."

Looking behind you to find where the voice was coming from, you saw a red deer demon. His hair, clothes, and eyes were red. A handsome face that you remember seeing before, around the nineteenth century if you recall. He was a dashing human and now he was a devilishly handsome demon.

He grinned once your eyes were on him, as if he was satisfied with your attention.

"I am Alastor, The Radio Demon."

A song helped me get the rest of this typed out. Thank the Dolly Parton song, Jolene.

~Seline, the person.

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ML II Alastor🎙

[peoplegettingreallymadatfurries]

What is a Minotaur?

I've been fascinated by the many different takes of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur. It is possible to depict these two as star-crossed lovers, through the level of intimacy shown in Theseus' execution of Asterion. It can also be a moment where we reflect on the features that make one different, but understanding the relationships of the world around us. As an artist, often you take a long time flowing into the precise details that are meant to be included in a final work. While it would be irresponsible as a literary critic of these artistic pieces to insist the artist's intent, there is a definite form of intention that goes into sculpture. Of Theseus and Asterion, I notice that there is a hidden story with many pieces, that go beyond the simple translation of the classic myth to page.

My favorite being Canova's, which depicts an almost intimate scene between the slain Asterion and triumphant Theseus.

This reading benefits from the club sitting beside Theseus. Seeing this as both the phallic object with which he defeated the Asterion, as well as the way it rises high to his eye, there is a latent sexuality in this piece. Asterion's mouth lies agape, either in pain or pleasure, we will never know. However, many of us who have seen this piece on Tumblr agree that it's definitely some form of sexuality. This is a triumph of brutishness, sure, but why are these figures nude?

Oftentimes, as I have done more research for this random essay that popped into my head, I find that often both the hero and monster are nude. This is both to show the raw power of both forces, as if they come from a place that goes beyond humanity, as well as the story that led to how they came to be. Asterion, sure he's unclothed in every depiction. He's an unwanted child, left to die, or at the very least fend for himself against 14 Athenian prisoners of war every 7 or 9 years. Theseus being unclothed is something that I need to actually look up and won't, being that this is not up for peer review in a prestigious journal.

Some depictions show him strangling Asterion to death (Pindar), others say Theseus stabbed Asterion in the throat. Either way of execution provides an overpowering of the smaller, young Theseus. Either he uses a phallic object to murder what he sees as a monster, or perhaps gets to know him better while he struggles under the weight of his hands on the bull's throat. Using a sword to penetrate is one of the gayest exchanges one can use to symbolize a sexual intercourse. (See some readings of Romeo and Tybalt). Laying hands on this monster (especially if nude as often depicted), he likely faced him, giving him some semblance of touch between himself and another human.

Upon further research of these type of sculpture, I found François Sicard's bronze statue on Archibald Fountain in Hyde Park in Sydney, Australia. Though there is a brutality between the two, here, where Theseus in his Western European features manhandles an Othered subject, there also exists an intimacy. Grabbing the Asterion by the horn, kneeling on his thigh, offers a sense of touch that Asterion likely never would have been able to experience prior. Though one can imply a suggestive nature to Asterion's pose, it's important to also see that Asterion's head is turned to look back at the man who is touching him, and moments from giving him his greatest mercy.

Asterion never asked to be born what he was. Many newer interpretations of the myth, mainly those depicted by @hellenhighwater and @avocadolaw, depict a person underneath his features, stuck inside a prison for which he is unjustly placed. Highwater's piece, A Crack in the Labyrinth, in particular, reaches for a pathos that I find unrivaled in any solitary piece of Minotaur work.

Though Asterion has unrivaled strength -- enough to kill 14 Athenians every 7 or 9 years depending on your retelling of the myth -- enough to break down the walls of his prison, he also remains an emotional subject, born of a curse of his mother's relationship with Zeus, and his father's vanity. He was shut out for being born a monster, but he is still a child, who did not deserve this imprisonment.

@avocadolaw's interpretation of Highwater's piece demonstrates another angle to this myth that continues to drive empathy into the heart of the story. Asterion is Ariadne's older brother. It is Ariadne who supplies Theseus with the clew that he can use to escape the impossible labyrinth, doing this out of an act of love for the Athenian, and not the Cretan. By depicting Asterion in a moment of solitude and depression, the audience sees a beast in its weakness -- in its solitary confinement. Using the same skyphos, also depicts a relationship between these siblings that the myth itself neglects to mention.

These solitary depictions move away from a sense of queerness as this essay threatened. However, their intimate tenderness for a misunderstood creature curates an understanding of queer solitude. Asterion's difference from anyone he may have known doesn't sexualize him. It humanizes him.

I have seen intentional gay pieces of art between Theseus and Minotaur, both using art as a form to share intimacy, as well as queerness. Of all of these, though, I am drawn toward the monstrous depiction of identity in @h00f's piece T4TM

Title and depiction here, implies a specifically trans reading into the subject of The Minotaur. The image alt text of the post refrains from using pronouns for the Minotaur (see the alt text for the included image). The trans reading of this piece bares entirely features that may be interpreted through a bifurcated understanding of gender, or it can blur the line between the two well enough to absolve itself of any gender. In refusing to use pronouns for the Minotaur at all, the artist also refuses to define this depiction into a secret third option. In all of this lack of gender, there is still a form of intimacy between the two subjects, especially given the assumed shared history of Minotaur myth.

Overall, I just love the way Minotaur are depicted as a misunderstood beast and given a form of intimacy that formerly had been left out in the understanding of the myth. If you managed to read all of this essay, I'm proud of you for putting up with this. My mind wandered while I was researching an essay for the furbait blog. I wanted to jump on this impulse while I could. When you see the other essay, I hope you find it to be just as worth it as I did, spending the last 4 hours drafting this up.

[courtingchaos]

This was just a little blurb I wrote the other night for a prompt competition thing however, I was stuck at a concert and wasn’t able to actually participate like that! So y’all can have it! Though I must say, @fracturedarkness has already claimed him as their boyfriend, so the slimy boy is off the market. Sorry ladies.

A/N and Warnings: It’s monsterfucking. I don’t know what else to tell ya. Mentions of said monsterfucking. Go cautiously, have fun, don’t complain about it, it’s just river monster Eddie, he loves you.

You can hear the chittering before before you see the flash of his eyes hidden under the mossy brown hair. The river is murky enough to keep the rest of him hidden until he wants you to see him, until he’s ready to pull you down the slick embankment. His hand is smooth and scaly, fingertips rough when they shoot up out of the water and snatch your knee, pulling you waist deep. You gasp at the cold, at the feel of his cool skin sliding against yours, waterlogged eyes curiously searching your own for recognition.

He can feel your heartbeat pressed up against him, can feel the rush of heat between your legs where his hand rakes up further. The pointed tips of his claws scratching lightly against sensitive flesh.

This is a game you two play, ever since you found him. Alone the way he thought he wanted to be until you came along, tromping through his underbrush and disturbing his peace. You smelled like sunlight and dry earth, things he rarely occupied. He’d only been curious at first but then you’d cut yourself on the rocks and he could taste that sunlight in the water. It hadn’t taken long to track you downstream, follow you up the rocks you’d climbed. His den wasn’t far and he thought he could have his fun with you before pulling you under the current, but something was different. You didn’t scream like all the other humans. You didn’t try to fight out of his grip on your bleeding ankle. You’d watched with wide, curious eyes. Run your mouth at him like he couldn’t understand you but when he pulled you close abruptly you’d stopped, watched his pale lips form around familiar sounds. Watched those sharp teeth move in closer to you.

He’d had his fun though, had let you go that first time to slink back to your civilization but you’d slunk back to him. Found him in his home, bringing that sharp sunlight with you and he was fascinated with your missing fear and warm skin.

You’d kept coming back and he kept playing along, tracking you down when he’d catch a whiff of you on the wind. He liked how you tasted after a trek through the woods, long tongue laving up the side of your neck to gather the salt there while you moaned. He’d drag his claws up your sides, pulling at useless clothing hiding you from him. His favorite thing was to get you laid out on the mossy rocks under his stars, nose buried deep in your cunt where you tasted the most like earth. He’d make you scream like the cicadas in the surrounding pines and then pull you down into the water, big hands keeping your head afloat and pinning you to the edge where he could fuck you, knows this is why you keep coming back to find him in the dark. He fights the urge to pull you under the surface, wants to fill your lungs with the same cool water and mate you but he knows he can’t. Not if he wants to keep chasing you, keep finding you. So he pins you and ruts into you hard, holds you in place until you’re clawing at the wet earth and getting it under your nails and in your hair. He wonders if you hold on to his scent like he does yours when he bites down on your shoulder, long row of sharp teeth breaking that fragile skin and filling his mouth with sunlight when he comes. He marks you in a lot of ways, ways he knows don’t matter to where you belong. Ways that matter to him though, and to you too. So he’ll pull you out of the water and bring you to your things and when you’re finally conscious enough to get dressed and leave, he’ll watch from under his rocks and wait. Wait for you to step on moss and leaves and mud again and bring him his taste of sunlight.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[auncyen]

SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

…Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

[hanasnx]

“ COLLIDE LIKE TWO STARS FOR A WHILE ” — shakarian.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: during ME1, pre-romance. WARNINGS: fem shepard | spacer backstory, if you squint | established relationship as friends | slow burn romance themes | regular romance themes | friends to lovers and this is the precursor, the friends bit, so to speak.

It’s unlikely but not impossible that extraction fails, and night falls quickly. Out in the middle of nowhere, under the stars, SHEPARD and her team of GARRUS VAKARIAN and Urdnot Wrex are stranded until early next morning. They adapt, as survivalists do, and make camp with limited supplies. Communications are on the fritz, but she’s not worried yet, right now they should get some rest. “You two get a head-start, I’ll keep first watch.” she’d said. It had been a while since then, the fire’s low, and she yawns into her hand. At least it’s a hell of a view, she hasn’t been somewhere without light pollution in years. She sees stars outside the windows of the Normandy all the time, but nothing like this. Perhaps there’s some ancient human in her after all, the kind that once-in-a-while needs solid ground under her feet while she gazes into the sparkling canopy of the skies. She draws in a deep, calming breath. This mission didn’t go her way, it’s been nothing but tough choices and rushed half-baked ideas trying to catch up to Saren. Now they’re stuck, waiting here until their retrieval.

Some rustling, then footsteps sound behind her, and she pivots her head in the direction at attention until she recognizes them. Garrus comes to stand aside her, the curves of his armor illuminated in the dull light. “Any action, Commander?”

Shepard is reminded of herself, sitting straighter at the sight of her subordinate. Elbows rest on her propped up knees, and her gloved fingers fiddle to get the blood flowing. Through her exhaustion, she musters a weak “heh.” cocking her head to reach the back of her neck to her hand and give it a rub. With a tired quirk to her lips she responds, “Not yet, Vakarian, but the night’s still young.”

Garrus aligns himself, and slowly seats next to her releasing a sigh on the way down. “I came to relieve you.”

"Yeah, I'll turn in in a minute." she replies, facing forward. He mirrors her position. Through lids not yet heavy, she watches the horizon, the long stretch of flatland curtained by the blue night. A thought occurs, and her brows quirk, glancing at him slyly. "It hasn't been that long. Couldn't sleep?"

"You could say that." he concedes, and pivots his body in the direction of the lumpy sleeping bag confining Wrex. "He snores, you know."

Something about Garrus's skill with subtle comedic timing has her scoff through her nose, curling her lips a second time that night. "Didn't notice." she audibly realizes, downturning her mouth with a discreet shrug. "At least one of us will be well-rested tomorrow."

"He'll have to carry us to the Normandy." he says it like it's a warning, but it passes over her head.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll love that." she quips, but she's far too drained to come up with anything clever to sustain the banter—not that she could outrun Garrus's mouth on a good day.

It's quiet for a moment. The noises of night fill the space from lack of conversation, and the dimmest of embers retreat into the centers of the wood from the fire.

Sheepishly, he studies her. "Commander?" His gaze shifts to his wrists resting on his propped up knees. "About today..." His fist forms as it hangs off the precipice, and he wishes he had a blade of grass to rip up between his fingers—anything to ease the churn in his stomach over bringing this up.

"Don't mention it, Garrus. Shit happens." A plainly informal response so abrupt it takes him aback. He's never known Shepard to be a shining example of professionalism, but the wall that's usually between them feels a little thinner right now. "Whatever went wrong it's my fault anyway."

Taking responsibility like a leader... he thinks. Against his judgment—quick to fight her for accountability and insist there's nothing she could've done—he seals his mandibles and waits.

"I've never been the Commander of my own ship before." she observes it like it's just now sinking in, and Garrus senses the beginning of an anecdotal explanation. It's an exceedingly rare thing, knowing next to nothing about Shepard's personal life that she supplied herself, he dares not move lest he break the miraculous trance she's in. "I've led units, sure, but I was always going home on someone else's orders. Now, it's different." She leans her weight to one side, lifting her foot to kick at a rock in front of her boot. The jagged edges of it draw a swirling picture in the loose sandy dirt. "I can't call the Council every time I need help." She settles into her seat, crossing her arms in a lax hug of her knees as she curls forward. It's... child-like.

Garrus is at a loss. This shade of vulnerability on his commanding officer is unseen and it's an understatement to say it's difficult to navigate. If he says the wrong thing, she'll remember who she's talking to, who she is, and the last thing she wants is to be pitied—that much he does know. He clenches his jaw. This is some freak combination of a mission gone sideways, the night air, her exhaustion, and his chance presence—it must be. There won't be another moment like this, and he doesn't want to screw up her opinion of him.

It's quiet again. "I can be your help." dies on his lips. A heavy weight presses into his chest, like he let her down.

"You're from Palaven, right?" The inquiry catches him off guard, and he perks up.

"Palaven?" his tone conveys his confusion about the abrupt shift, as if it's irrelevant where he hails from. "Er, yes. Cipritine, to be exact." After supplying the answer, he wears a shade of embarrassment on his neck for forgetting to address her properly. The question of whether or not he should've added a "sir" irks him, and his claws through his gloves scrape over the armor at his knee.

"What's it like there?"

If he was crossing the line, she made no show of it. Instead he saw the reflection of the stars in her eyes, and he wondered if she was trying to imagine his birthplace, or see it from where she sits now, thousands of lightyears away.

He hasn't given it much thought since he left, but for her sake, he'll make an exception. Glancing at his lap, he tries to remember what was so special about it other than a place to live, a place to be proud of simply because it sired him. He has respect for where he came from, but does he have love? He's unsure facing it head-on now. Regardless, he tries to describe it objectively. "It's... nice- I think. Warm... and- and safe."

After those few words, he gauges her reaction uneasily, but she's unfazed. Hundreds of twinkling lights in her gaze as she focuses on each one, pupils darting side-to-side as if she's counting them. Her body language relaxes, releasing her legs to let them fall apart, as her hands fix behind her, leaning on them.

Her comfort, it instills him. "Tall, silver spires reaching for the skies. It's... not like here." The surrounding flat land is nothing but sparse withered palmed trees and dry dirt. As he takes it all in, his eyes land on the back of her hand within reach of him. His heart rate picks up, and for one lapse he envisions placing his own there—like it's the right time for it. However, such a deeply inappropriate idea crazes him, sharply whipping his head away from the view of it to avoid considering it for another second. Considering it was a mistake, accidentally born out of these special circumstances and nothing more. To change the subject of his own mind, he adds, "Uh, well, what about you? Where are you from?" His words come out a little too quick for his tastes, falling clumsily out of his mouth as he nervously gestures towards her.

Shepard shrugs. "Never spent enough time in one place to know, really."

Within that small sentence, Garrus begins to feel a new appreciation for his home, one he may have took for granted before. "Oh." He star-gazes with her, and for a moment he wonders if he can see Palaven from here.

"It's alright. Cipritine sounds nice." she says, sincerely. It eases him.

"Maybe you'll visit it one day." he offers this suggestion hopefully as if in attempt to lift her spirits.

Her brows furrow, and a smile of disbelief stretches onto her features, spotlighted by starshine. "Yeah, as soon as I grow some Turian hide. Right."

"Heh. Right."

A loud and obnoxious groan of frustration alerts the pair, pivoting their necks in its direction, but exchanging eye contact with each other instead. "Will you kids keep it down? Some of us are trying to get some sleep over here." the throaty voice of Wrex scolds them, yanking them back into reality. Both of their bodies suddenly feel a little heavier.

"Speaking of which," Shepard gets up, and dusts herself off. "I should, uh, get some sleep." She jabs her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the sleeping bags, ignoring the way Wrex rolls over, grumbling to himself.

"You do that." Garrus nods to her.

"Take it easy." she tells him, and the sound of her footsteps distance themselves from his ear.

Just like that, the wall is back up... but it's a little thinner than before.

[waterlilyspad]

Breaking our Solitude (Chapter 4)

your honor this is propaganda.

Summary: After a miracle Jayce returns to life in a dead world, it's now up to Viktor and Jayce to start over, hopefully for the better.

(Fluff, longing, Flashbacks, bugs being bugs, jayvik au, post season 2)

The blazing sun finally began to move across the sky granting Jayce some reprieve. Soon after the wind began to pick up as various insects acquainted themselves with their new garden, Jayce quietly watched below. Flittering down from air came a dragonfly its wings shimmered in the sunlight and at first Jayce didn't think much of it until he suddenly remembered that he wasn’t very fond of bugs at the feeling of it land on his nose. A memory he nearly forgot came to him in that instant, it was back at the academy when a spider slinked down from the ceiling landing on his neck while he was hunched over his schoolwork. Viktor was also in the room just as concentrated as he was. He remembers how loudly he screamed as the thing fell down his collar and into his back and how much it startled Viktor. Another student slammed the door open rushing in to ask if everything was okay only to see Jayce shirtless brushing his back madly asking if it was off as Viktor scrambled to the floor to smash the thing with his journal.

Jayce smiled and silently chuckled before pausing, wait he was smiling, you smile when something’s funny right? Was that funny? Course it was it was a very awkward and chaotic thing to happen…And now the dragon fly was moving towards his eye. He snapped out of his thoughts back to the present and focused on trying to get the insect to fly away. Blinking and attempting to yell at it silently did nothing to deter the little creature, and he groaned inaudibly as it walked its little feet right over his closed eye. Then another thought occurred to him, there was no sound coming from his throat. This whole time without realizing he was completely mute; no, it couldn't be had he really lost his voice? He tried again to yell or say something, but nothing came out. Meanwhile the Dragonfly tip tapped its way over to his forehead, he opened his eyes looking up to see those iridescent wings splay out in front of his eyes as he thought, I have no voice anymore, why does that bother me so much.

Then the wind rushed for a second and with it the Dragonfly flew away, he breathed out but then noticed that he was starting to get cold. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak, but he could feel and express those feelings in his face, the way his eyes winced and his nose scrunched as his eyebrows pinched. Maybe he wasn’t completely human, but he was starting to feel like one again for better or for worse. 

As the day dragged on that inescapable cold never left. He was after all very high up in the atmosphere. He looked off into the empty sky hoping that Viktor would come back soon as stars began to peek through the open. The wind seemed to blow right through him, however. He shuddered every time it did, that freezing feeling breaking apart any kind of thought he was trying to form. He hated every second of it. “Please hurry.” and “Come back.” Were words he’d mouth silently hoping to conjure him up. Soon he closed his eyes, the endless chill tormenting him as he felt his teeth clatter. The sound was less of a dull chattering and more a metallic clicking. Little to his knowledge his teeth were like a white enameled metal now, he couldn’t chip or break them, as perfect lifeforms like him would have indestructible teeth. How ridiculous, no matter how much he changed he still retained something as asinine as that. This was all he was now he thought. This thing stuck between being alive and intimate, silently calling out in the middle of nowhere shivering to no end. I didn’t ask for this, wait was that a horrible thing to think?

[nazt-void]

Been working and building up the characters a bit in my personal time to work through how I want this AU to go.

Now, I’m not the best at story telling with my words so I’m going to try my best with bullet points! Yippee!

Billy’s home dimension, Euclidia, was not destroyed

Despite his wish to be able to explore the stars and all they had to offer, it came with the price of never being able to return to Euclidia

Billy made a constellation of his parents in hopes they would be able to see the stars one day and find that their baby never forgot them

Billy was knocked down from the sky by a passing comet he had failed to notice

When Billy fell from the sky down to Gravity Falls, Stanford was the first and only person he met

Stanford was very nice (at first) and was helping Billy find a way to return to Euclidia

Stanford quickly changed after figuring out that Billy could create matter that seemed to be alive

After years of being alone, Billy had thought that Stanford was a true friend and was really trying to help him

Billy would do anything for Stanford if he so asked until it got to the point that Billy had gotten too weak and Stanford was getting scary, wanting more and more of the abilities that he possessed

Billy is currently on the run, having managed to get away from Stanford by sheer luck and the very minimal amount of power he still retained

He only ended up in the dimension of canon because of a worm hole that he had fled into after Stanford found him again

Billy is now very nervous around any Ford

Billy has no idea who Stanley or the rest of the Pines family is

He is now stuck in this human form as both a disguise and lack of power

Billy just wants to go home at this rate and doesn’t care if he has to give up the stars to do so

[shittybundaskenyer]

✹ ▬ 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒

rating: Explicit pairing: Female Shepard x Garrus Vakarian summary: the Mako breaks down in a snowstorm on Noveria. Shepard is stuck with her turian friend after some things went sideways in one of the research labs. warnings: first time gone wrong (but then so right), sex pollen, so much kissing, just pure smut (what do you want from me??), does doing it in the Mako is considered car sex?, interspecies sex, love confessions, so much fluff, Garrus is too sweet for his own good word count: 3831  

a/n: I had Mass Effect Legendary Edition on my PC for like a year and I'm now cursing myself why I've waited for so long to play the trilogy. The Bioware brainrot took me once more under its influence so I guess I'm going back to my roots. This is almost entirely is pure smut, I guess I can't write anything else nowadays but I'm embracing it now. So have this very rusty, messy love scene I wrote in a frenzy after finishing the trilogy. <33

MASTERLIST   |   ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

Noveria is cold and white and still beautiful in that strange way only death can be. It became the noose woven around Garrus’ own neck too, when it twirled his fate and Shepard's own together in form of a messy string. 

It only started becoming strange when Shepard started to tear her armor off of her body, but by then all common sense was out, laying dead in the relentless snowstorm. She became feverish, smelling so sweet, like summer, like sun-warmed earth, like arousal that Garrus had realized all too late. They were warned by the dangers of the labs surrounding Peak 15, the tower that was like an old pine ringed by fungi, all the rot and unethical discoveries blooming under the disguise of neat little buildings that twinkled in the darkened landscape—a constellation hiding in a thick cloud of dark matter. 

He knows she was curious. He knows she only wanted to help, but Spirits, it will be the death of her one day, N7 or not, she’s only human. And she’s fragile, a goddamn glass cannon that can blow up the whole universe and crumble from hands that grip her a bit too tight at the same time. 

Liara’s warning came too late, they had to cut to the chase and there was no time to think about the consequences of Shepard's stray shot breaking open the containment cell of an unnaturally lush, succulent little flower in one of the labs. It didn’t set in until they were in the Mako and she steered the dumb tank even more recklessly than she did it stone cold sober. A boulder came, then the half of the mountain too, raining down thick globes of fresh snow until the Mako was good and well stuck. She was sweating by then, skin hot and wet and her eyes wild and Liara offered to get help from one of the nearby labs, leaving Garrus to protect his commander with his life. From what, he didn’t know. There was nothing, only snow and wind and Shepard’s warmth all around them for miles. But time trickled by like water on a glass window after a storm, slow, sluggish, and Shepard couldn’t keep herself in line anymore. 

She pleaded for a caress she always wanted from him and he wanted to give her everything instead. 

(Maybe he loved her all along.)

And now, now Liara is gone and has been gone for hours, and Garrus pushes Shepard into the Mako's seat, his forehead meeting hers, something akin to a kiss only lovers do. Her skin is damp, her hair sticking to her face in messed up crimson ribbons and he tries to trace the constellations under her eye with a blunted talon when blood floods her cheeks, making them twinkle like stars adrift a sea of nebulae. The Mako is dark but not dark enough to hide the fire flickering in her gaze, shielded by a series of curved, dark lashes. Humans and their strange hair—eyebrows and lashes and thousands of fair fuzz that stand up as he moves his hand lover, to the vulnerable skin of her throat, swiping a thumb over her pulse that jumps wildly at the touch. 

"Kiss me," she whispers, barely audible for the translator to pick up, and it almost sounds like music like this, a series of hisses and high notes, so he nuzzles his way closer to hear it once more, now pleading, the sound buzzing in her throat. 

It's beautiful in a way.

"How?" he whispers against the side of her jaw, warm plates against cooler skin, and she puts a hand to his face, five fingers splaying over his colony markings, urging him upwards until her lips can brush over his mouth. It's strange. It's unbelievably soft. Then— wet as her tongue darts out and tries to coax his mouth plates apart. 

He takes the leap and lets her in. Even if he has all the sharp teeth, even if it's wildly different from his own experiences. And Spirits, it feels good. It's tender—even though they started to tear at each other's armor before this, even though he has to clench his fingers into a fist before he scratches her in his hurry. This has to be gentle where nothing in the world is. 

His tongue meets hers, and now he understands why humans like kissing so much. He does now too. Shepard makes a sound as he tastes the inside of her mouth, the blunt edge of her teeth and sucks in a breath when Garrus pulls back to gaze down at her and find her looking dazed. 

"Alright?," he checks, always, afraid of fucking this precious thing up and Shepard has the audacity to smile. Full of teeth and curving lips, a flash of white in the darkness. 

"I'm good," she knocks her forehead against his, nuzzling him, "really good."

Garrus kisses her again as an answer, bolder now, so much braver, and he kisses and kisses her until there's no more left to give, until there's no air in her lungs. Something new shines in her eyes, in the pool of darkness that is her pupils, dilated beyond belief, ringed by a thin strip of wild green, a black hole with a halo. Want. Need. Something more. Something unbelievable. 

Garrus rumbles deep in his chest, a sound so low she can only feel its vibration against her sternum, the crook of her neck where his face finds a home. His subvocals sing so many things at once, a confession she can't understand, not yet. Contentment. Gratefulness. Lust. Love.

(Maybe I love you.)

She drags her hand across his face again, that delicate, soft hand that is only calloused in places where wielding a gun made the skin harder. She touches his fringe, and under it, where plates turn into the most vulnerable patch of hide he has on his body. His voice grows louder, more like a growl than a purr, and she smiles again, so pretty something under his keelbone jumps and bursts and flickers—a star being born. 

"That's—," he starts and he's not proud of the way his voice trembles. "That's one way to give the night a quick start."

Shepard's fingers stop in their movement, but before she could pull away he takes a hold of her forearm and soothes a thumb over the inside of her wrist, guiding her back to that spot. 

"Am I hurting you?" 

"Spirits, no," he flicks a mandible at her, his way of smiling, and Shepard puts her mouth to his jaw as her confidence grows. Garrus can feel the plates at his sheath slowly parting and somehow he's hyperaware of her body trapped against his, her knee brushing his own, warm even through metal and ceramic plates. 

They have to strip down that damn armor, like, right now. 

But Shepard knows this, feels this too, and her hand disappears so she can grab the waist of his pants and tug on it, even though turian armor is not designed in a way that it could make it come off easily. 

"Help me, will you?" she asks against the side of his mandible, face and incredibly soft lips still so close, her eyelashes brushing his jaw as she looks down between them in the dark and Garrus desperately wishes that he could feel that fluttering. Instead, he's stripping. The rest of his undersuit that was hanging by his hips goes lower when he unfastens every little clasp and belt he has around his spurs. 

Shepard licks his mouth. He rumbles again, louder when the thin fabric of protective weave finally pools on the Mako's floor, and he's right up there against her, pressing close, so close, until his keel digs between her breasts and his side is framed by her knees and he kisses her the human way, with so much tongue and want it leaves her breathless. 

"How much time do we have?" he asks against the underside of her ear, finding a soft spot there, one that pulls a whimper from her. 

"Barely any," she hisses and lets him nibble on the curve of her neck. "Gonna make the most of it?"

"Trying to," he smiles, mandibles catching her messy hair, blood red on silver, hands going up to cradle her nape, to get lost in that soft sea of crimson. 

Shepard likes this, likes the feel of his hide on her skin and she wants more, wants no barriers in those minimal, quiet gaps the differences of their bodies create. Negative space filled with heat and some unintelligible emotion, something like summer, something like home. She melds her body to his and Garrus can't help the low resonance his subvocals start to make. 

"Am I hurting you?" she whispers as she lays tiny kisses on his neck, just beside the edge of the plates shielding his spine. "You're trembling."

"No, I just—," his breath hitches as those kisses turn into gentle nips. Right where a bondmark would go. Spirits, he's slipping. She can't know this, she can't— "You just found all the good buttons to push."

He feels her smirk on his hide. He wants to have her mark here, even though the thought terrifies him.

(Maybe I love you.)

"You know I'm good at pushing buttons."

Garrus chuckles but it comes out rasped. He doesn't care. Not when he can feel her body vibrating, shivering as his hands finally roam downwards, onto her sides, her hips, the soft of her belly that is so blessedly bare. 

He slides a talon along the muscles leading down, around the small divot in the middle, lower still where Shepard's already lifting her hips up to let him free her of her undersuit pants. There's still some fabric that remains, covering her most intimate parts but she grabs his hands and makes him grip the fabric of it in a hurry. 

"Pull this down too," she whisper-commands and he obliges, skims the tips of his blunted talons over the jut of her hipbones, a feature all too familiar on a body made of infinite curves. It traps his gaze, the small hills and valleys, freckled here too, and hairy when he gazes lower, a trail of tiny red curls disappearing between lush thighs as he reveals more of her skin. 

The undergarment only gets down one leg, dangles on the other by her knee when he pries apart her thighs, makes himself at home right in the cradle of them. This is all too fast and all too hot, but none of them complains as they meet in another heated kiss. She smells different like this, stronger, sweet and tangy and something else, pure arousal he realizes, and Garrus can't hold himself back any longer, can't will the swollen edges of his sheath to stay closed. 

"Show me how to touch you," he asks, almost pleads, because damn, he can't be selfish with her, not when he trusts her with his life and wants all the happiness the world can offer for her. That too, is a confession he's not ready to make, not for himself and not for her, but Shepard stops him in his thoughts as she puts her hand back right under his fringe, driving him wild. 

"None of that right now," she pants, breathless as his hands go bruising on her hips. "I just want you inside me."

Fuck, this was not the way Garrus thought he would die.

"I don't want to hurt—" she interrupts him with another kiss, then a hand on his stomach, low enough to almost graze the plates on his groin. 

"Please, Garrus," it's a plea. Broken and rasped. Raw, like a fresh wound. Why is she suffering? 

"Don't let me hurt you. I could not live with myself and the consequences."

"You're sweet," she smiles quietly, looking up at him from under the shadow of those long lashes, eyes burning with fire and want and that same thing that eats his heart alive, while it still beats a wild rhythm only for her. 

Garrus touches a hand between her legs, follows the trail of fascinating hair to where it parts in a seam of flesh, soft folds hiding a hot, wet warmth. It's familiar enough, so much more slick and so much smaller, but there's give in the muscle lower, where his finger finally dips inside her. Spirits, that’s—

She angles her hips, and moans, right beside his ear when his finger slips deeper, almost to the last knuckle in one go and damn if that's not something he'll remember for the rest of his life. 

"C'mon," her lips brush the word against his mandible. He puts his forehead to hers and pulls his hand away, moving her instead, three fingers splayed on the jut of a hipbone. 

It takes a little more shuffling, a little more angling and gripping for him to slot himself right at the apex of her thighs, her warmth scorching here, a sun, a red giant star, her wetness smearing on the bare hide of his stomach and then he's holding her firm and letting his sheath finally, blessedly open, his cock sliding out and into her in a slow, perfect motion. 

Shepard doesn't breathe. She can't. Garrus can feel her shuddering against his keel as he keeps filling her, making way for himself inside her even though there's barely any. He never thought she could— that she would have all of him, like this, with her leg cramping up around his hip, with her throat full to bursting with unsaid curses and whimpers. His subvocals scream, his mind fogged by the feeling of her oh so close, so perfect, so beautiful like this, with her hands bruising his neck and her lips open on some silent shout. 

"Fuck, Garrus I—," there's a hitch in her breath, then a fluttering squeeze right on his cock, her muscles clenching up. He's gonna lose his mind just like how he lost control of his voice. 

(I love you.)

“I got you,” he murmurs instead, eyes half-closed, hands still gripping her waist. “I got you sweetheart.”

Shepard squirms, pulls his face right down to her, then lower, into the crook of her neck and a deep urge surfaces in him, an instinct buried deep under centuries of civilized life and culture, yet it was never erased from his genes. He evolved like this, with the want, the need, to bite, to mark something that he wants to forever keep his own. Turians mate for life. If she leaves now, he thinks he will die. Can another soul be ripped from his own? He would gladly lay in a cold grave with her. Would follow her to the end of the universe and back, just so he can protect her. Shield the one that wants to keep the world from crumbling. Travel through all the stars and Mass Relays laying dormant, see all the wild emptiness and beauty of the galaxy and it would still be nothing compared to the way she looks up at him now. 

There’s water collecting at her pinched brows; sweat, he remembers, and he lifts a hand there to swipe it away. Her eyes are wet too, glossy, glinting in the low light like a starry night sky over home.  

“Garrus—” she presses out between her teeth, her face scrunched up in a frown of pain-pleasure he assumes, because she never makes a move to push him away, to halt this perfect joining. He hopes it’s okay. He hopes he’s not fucking this up. Losing her after this would be a killing blow. A heart-shaped bullet hole right on his heart. 

“Just tell me how,” he takes her cheek in his palm, angles her so that he can kiss her. Slowly. Softly. It’s a fleeting thing that ends with her nipping on his mouth, his tongue, just to get his attention. Like his every nerve was not focused on her anyway from the start. 

“Please move,” she murmurs against his mandible, her body squeezing him tight, making him groan. He pulls back a little, testing, careful, always so afraid of hurting her, his tough girl, but Shepard smiles and it’s enough to make him thrust shallowly into her. “Yeah, you feel so good.”

Garrus’ vision whites out for a second as her insides tug him back inside, so warm and so wet that a messy patch is already forming between their bodies, his sheath hitting her folds, the friction blinding, and the sight even more as he looks down, fringe tangled into her hair, and in the darkness he finds himself nestled deep, her cunt stretched around him, glistening in their combined want. 

He moves, spirits, he moves. And his chest rumbles and his hands shake and his mandibles twitch at her cheek and his heart aches so damn hard it makes his breaths get stuck in his lungs like trapped creatures in a bone cage. 

(I love you so damn much.)

She moves with him like a tide, like water rising on an endless black ocean alight with stars, then falling back, and even though he knows she's the most horrible dancer the galaxy has, she follows the steps of this tango by heart. Maybe because it's wanted. Maybe because it's with him. He desperately wishes that it would be true. 

"I won't last long like this," his voice is barely picked up by the translator and he knows this, hopes that she doesn't mind the sounds he makes. They're real. So perfectly clear in their meaning, so sure in expressing something he's not yet ready to say when she can understand. 

(I love you, I love you, I love you.)

She puts a palm to his stomach, just above his sheath, five lithe fingers mapping out the narrow lines of his sides, and damn, it makes his cock twitch, makes him thrust in roughly for the first time. There's a sound of delight. It comes from her, head tipped back and lips smeared with spit and red strands of hair, like fresh blood after a good brawl. 

"Yes," she breathes out, dragging him down to her, clinging to him tightly as he finally moves his hips in a hard, steady rhythm. His knees are gonna kill him later but it doesn’t matter because he’s with her, joined like lovers, like mates.

She takes his hand, leads it over her body, to the divot of her collarbones, her sternum, the dip of her stomach, then the soft of her belly where she makes him press down a little, makes him feel the distinct shape of him moving inside her. That's something entirely new. 

It makes him even more aware of the fact that this small, fragile woman would take up a krogan in a fistfight and come out alive. It makes him lose his mind. It makes some sick, posessive part of him growl and rumble and hold her so tight he's sure her hips are gonna bruise. 

"Shepard," he hisses, one hand gripping the seat behind her to find more leverage, her sounds getting louder, out of breath and high-pitched, his name a silent mantra only muttered with gaping lips. “Show me how to make you come.”

She whimpers, clutches his fingers tighter on her navel. The talons of his other hand tear the Mako’s seat behind her. She drags his palm over the mound of hairy flesh where they join, and he enjoys carding his talons through the curls, then she takes a thick finger and places the pad of it just above where he’s stretching her open with his cock, on a small bundle of swollen flesh that instantly makes her tighten around him. This is something he could never get used to—the tight warmth clinging to him like a second skin under Palaven’s unforgiving sun. He swipes his thumb over it, then draws a slow circle. The tightness becomes almost unbearable. He keens.  

“Damn clever turian,” she hiccups, grinding into his touch, into his unsteady thrusts, her hand gripping his wrist instead, not guiding but trying to steady herself. “I’m so close, Garrus.”

He nuzzles her jaw at that, forehead meeting forehead after, then lips with plates, tongue with tongue. The kiss breaks off in a series of desperate gasps, and Garrus murmurs against her, “let me come with you. Senna, please I—”

“Love you,” she pants into the crook of his neck, teeth grazing him, and then biting in when he pushes his whole length into her, the stretch unbearable, her words ringing in his ears like endless echoes in a hallway made of dark matter and stardust, and he claims her, puncturing her shoulder and filling her cunt, his tie growing, the taste of her blood bursting on his tongue. Sweet. Salty. Iron. Just like her. 

She tightens on him impossibly so, and then there’s a fluttering, her muscles spasming violently in an orgasm that makes her legs shake and her stomach jump. His thumb slowly stops moving on the bundle of flesh she showed him when her short nails dig forcefully into his forearm. 

(I love you, I love you, I love you—)

Subvocals screaming, his whole body trembling, he finally releases her flesh, knocks his nose against hers until her eyes flutter open, dazed and unfocused, brimmed with tears, pupils dilated to infinity. She smiles, blunt teeth flashing white and blue in the low light, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s his own blood on her lips. 

He leans down to lick it off, to embrace her tighter, to feel the taste of her tingle in the back of his throat. She bit him. She marked him for life.

“I love you so damn much, baby.”

It’s out and it’s his own shot right through his heart, a shard of metal carved out just in the shape of her, and Garrus knows that nothing ever will be the same. The marks, the blood, his tie cradled by her fluttering warmth, his heart laying bare out in the snow, thawing in her warmth. 

Turians don’t like the cold, but Shepard scorches and it's just the right way.

“Thank you,” she whispers, weak now, entirely spent, but not influenced by the poison of want anymore. “I know this was… not how a first date should’ve happened but…” she bites the bruised swell of her bottom lip and he smooths a hand over her cheek, brushing away sticky hairs from her face. “Can we… have a next time?”

Garrus flicks out his mandibles in a smile and hugs her tighter, reassuring, eyes full of hope and wonder and her own disheveled reflection, “I want all the next times with you.”

“Good,” her grin tickles his hide, mischievous now. “I’m looking forward to it.”

(I do too. I do, I do, I do.)

[ruruumin]

Mermaid Zuha is stuck in my head rn so,,, do you have any other stuff for him? Hcs or drabbles maybe??

₊˚ ᗢ mermaid! kazuha x gn!reader.

⤷ befriending the strange mystical creature.

⤷notes; continuation of washed ashore.

Mermaid! Kazuha who visits you every other day, bringing you gifts from the bottom of the sea that he thinks will catch your eye. This could range from small, beautiful, and shiny shells that glisten underneath the sun’s rays, or pearls that were left in abandoned ships. You find his gifts to be a lot more pretty than yours. The old, worn-out books that you carry didn’t seem all too special on the surface, but when you see the way his eyes sparkle and shine as you read him stories and poetry, it was a one-of-a-kind experience.

The two of you would sit upon warm rocks which have been basking in the sun’s rays. He would recite poetry to you, and humming a small tune, you would lean your head against his slightly damp shoulder. As your eyes slowly close, you notice the webbing of his fingers. For a moment, you reach out, the tips of your fingers grazing his. He could feel his tail twitch and lap against the waters, feeling intrigued by your actions. 

He wouldn’t hesitate to interlace your fingers. He finds the act rather romantic despite how simple it was. He knows that it’s not common for mermaids to form relationships with humans because they were cruel creatures. Humans were always known by the other sea creatures to be rather benevolent or greedy. Trying to find a difference between them can be difficult. Their attitudes change far too much. And it was better for mermaids to stay on guard. They oftentimes sail too far in the hopes of chasing distant dreams. However, he knows that you were different.

The Vision you yield would glisten underneath the sun, shining brightly with ambition. It’s clear as to why the gods recognized you as a symbol of greatness. A kind heart you were, always going out of your way to teach him new things like the luxury of grilled fish. After spending all of his time at the bottom of the ocean, hunting and eating the fish as they were, his mouth was watering at the smell of salted fish. He would have never known that humans had such unique ways of cooking. It made the whole experience of eating a lot more enjoyable. 

The day he decided he had fallen in love with you was when you came to him one evening, your hands behind your back as you grinned. He smiled in response, asking you what you were hiding from him, to which you pulled out a fully laminated book. All the pages were wrapped in a sheen of plastic, and he could freely flip through it even with his wet hands. You told him that you felt bad he didn’t have anything to take back with him, and that this was the least you could do. 

And at this moment, even with his tail, he leaped into your arms, bringing you down to the ground as you laughed. He nuzzled his nose against yours, a joyous expression stretched across his face, his eyes glimmering like a brilliant, northern star.

“You’re truly something,” He cries out, wiping away at the sand that caked your skin, “Thank you for the gift. I will cherish it until the end of time.” 

[lets-try-some-writing]

Unicron is to me like that picture "three cats, two cats cuddle happily twhile one is stuck and has absolute look of horror on its muzzle" regarding him being stuck between Moon and Earth love.. Just the thought of Unmaker being domesticated with *gasp*✨feelings✨ is so funny

Earth, Moon:*sappy*

Unicron: I don't approve.

Moon: No one asked you.

Unicron: You're aware we may be two but are one? She's me. I am her. We are one in body and mind. You're basically flirting as humans say with me too eugh.

Earth: I love you both equaly 💚

Unicron: Desist.

This is a fun thought, and I am down for it for the most part. However, Earth and Unicron are totally separate. Earth formed of Unicron and now wraps around him like a shell. If she really wanted, she could tear herself off Unicron. Of course, she will never do this while her children wander her surface. Ripping herself off Unicron would cause irreparable damage to her systems. And not to mention, without someone to connect to in order to power herself, she wouldn't last long. Earth requires a power source. Be that Unicron, a star, or another similarly sized bot, it is irrelevant.

Moon has plans to pull Earth away from Unicron and wrap her around his frame instead if things go too far south. All he needs to do is save her spark and processor and he can repair her slowly. He's a Titan, and he firmly believes that he can save his beloved Earth if it were to be required of him.

Earth has no idea these plans exist. She also does not know she could pull away from her maker. Moon is the only one with the specs and he has refrained from telling her for fear of her refusing to listen in the event separation becomes required.

Infodump aside, yeah Unicron eventually warming up to affection is adorable. The Unmaker, the Chaos Bringer, slowly forced to accept affection over the vorns as his unintentional offspring and his unwanted Titan warden. Earth basks him in her awe at all times and Moon has a weird rivalry with him that looks odds friendly at times. Would he still obliterate Earth and Moon if given the chance to wake? On paper, the answer is yes. But he isn't sure anymore.

How can he be sure when his two idiot roommates are constantly in his buisness.

Earth: Father, do you believe that one day I shall see the stars beyond this solar system?

Unicron, knowing full and well that Earth will have to die for either of them to move anywhere: ...

Moon: Of course dear one! When your children are capable of spacefaring, we shall traverse the stars together.

Earth: But what about you Father? Would you be willing to travel? I cannot move without your consent.

Unicron: Unless we are going to destroy my brother, I have no interest in wasting energy.

Moon: Still stuck up on that bro-con train are we?

Unicron: Titan, desist.

Moon: No I don't think I will. You've got the biggest stick up your aft I've witnessed since Prima himself came to demand my assistance!

Earth: Moon, father, please-

[humanconditionpoetry]

Aaravos Thought and Overall Trailer Thoughts

Hello Everyone, I just thought about the new Dragon Prince Trailer and about Aaravos.

T.W/Tags - This post will contain spoilers of Season 7 Dragon Prince Official Trailer that just recently came out. If you have not watched the trailer or do not want to read spoilers, I suggest you scroll on! You have been warned!

Dragon Prince Season 7 Trailer Thoughts:

First off, that was a really good trailer and not going to lie, some feelings of nostalgia and sadness came up(especially with the old footages presented).

I hope they give us an arc three and it gets approved.

With those two thoughts out of the way, time to get into the main reason for this post: Aaravos 😁!

In the trailer, the first we hear about Aaravos is that he wants to bring about "eternal night". This is an interesting choose of diction or word choice because it is not eternal darkness, it is eternal night. Night =/= Darkness. The night is filled with speckles of light(stars) and one giant bulb of light(the moon).

Now this could reveal three things or possible theories.

One, it shows that on some level Aaravos still does care about people, especially humanity. The best way to still control situations and groups of people is by giving them some level of choice or hope in the matter. If you go not give people hope or some level of autonomy, they most likely do not do well and more often than not give up or resent that person. This does not seem like something Aaravos would want. Besides, the manipulation stand point, it also shows on some level that Aaravos is a person with feelings and motivations, he doesn't want people to not go into despair like he did, when the Star Council condemed Leola.

The second thing with this "eternal night" is that he wants the Stars to witness. He also probably wants to the moon or more specially the Moonshadow elves to witness. As besides Sol Regem, Sun is now changing and is more tolerant of what is happening(with Humans getting magic and living alongside them). From what we have seen from the show, the other elves for the most part seem accepting of humans having magic(so long as it is not dark and even then that is complicated issue) and like having humans by their side. I know what you are saying....What does this have to do with the moon? Well, the Moonshadow elves are the only species of elves that still cling to the old ways and have not really changed(Expect for Rayla). So, in a way, the Moon might be a symbolism to the Moonshadow elves. Basically, "you Moonshadow elves crave order so much and I am against that, so witness the chaos all around. Let us see what you guys will do or choose?"

Lastly, the "eternal night" might be a homage to Leola. He doesn't want to shut down the stars, because doing so, Leola would also cease to exist in a sense. In addition, Moon deals with reflection and ghosting, further silicifying that he is doing all of this for Leola and her ghost that she left behind(Aaravos - a shell of his former self, suppose to live on without her).

Speaking of Moon and the "rising of the undead", this former adds to Aaravos's detestment of Order in any of its form. It also plays into Aaravos, having been haunted for years and stuck in a prison(much like his pervious home and trapped in the tears he created to Leola's dead corpse), he is a ghost in a sense. He is "haunted and can not move on because he still has business in this realm". The ghost he brings back, according to some of the trailer footage is dragons and people that our protagonists knew, further adding that haunting element. He wants them to feel the same pain he felt, confronting the dead and having to live with the choices they make.

The rising of the undead and the chaos all around is also a symbolism for his mind. Now, I am going to little outreach, but stay with me. I know MBTI, as I have taken the test multiple of times and took a personality class in college as a Psych minor. Having studied this topic in depth, most XNTJ or XNFJ, have lower Se in their stack and have higher Ni. For those who do not the functions, Ni is introverted intuition, it is a gathering of information function and it is where most XNTJ/XNFJ's get their insights and aha moments as we see the bigger picture of things, engage more with the abstract and recognize patterns(among other things). Se is also a information gathering function, but it involves your 5 senses, being aware of the present moment, having an appreciation for the finer things in life, often very movement and environment based and feels strong intense emotions to situations. What I am getting at here is that Aaravos, according to my thoughts is an ENTJ. He has Ni higher than Se, but it is not so much lower like it would be for INTJ's or INFJ's.

This rising of the undead, plays into both functions. Aaravos with the haunting and ghost symbolism, as well as distain for any order(even the rise of the undead is seen as breaking the natural order of things) can seen as him using Ni. However, in doing so and creating destruction and chaos all around without a care or regard for others, who would undoubtedly be hurt in the process because of his intense emotions regrading Leola's death, left him to be very unhealthy mentally and coping-wise. Basically, this is reflected in his environment as many XNTJ's and XNFJ's can tell you that when we are feeling really bad and stressed, we kind of indulge into Se and sometimes that can be seen in the environment. There are of course healthy ways to deal with stress and bad moments, but we are talking about unhealthy because Aaravos is an unhealthy individual since the loss of Leola. I can explain more in the comments, if asked, but I think this should suffice in getting what I want to say across.

Lastly, I find it ironic that he hates order so much and in all forms, yet forms plans with backup plans(those backup plans have plans).... 🤭

That is all I have for now and Thank you to coming to my Tedtalk.

I hope you guys enjoy this post and I look forward to seeing season 7!

Let me guys know what you guys think in the comment section or add some of your theories.

[ignylinn]

TLT and actual science

Some time ago I posted some questions on the first resurrection and science here and had a wonderful discussion with @stranded-cryptid

We got stuck cause none of us knew enough physics :) so if anyone understands it better, I would so like an input or commentary.

But the ultimate question that came out of this discussion for me is:

Can TLT space necro magic be somewhat explained within the scope of our current scientific knowledge?

Or, can TLT be more or less hard sci-fi?

I know it can be so. Simmons explained religion and mysticism through science, and science through religion and mysticism in The Fall of Hyperion. The whole thing looked like err.. abrahamic space fantasy, right until the last part of the second book. And TLT can also be categorized as abrahamic space fantasy.

So, what do we know:

John DID have a scientific explanation for what was going on with thalergy/thanergy. He was going to write down his theory and to get it published. He turned it into a magic and a cult later because of circumstances and pressure. At least, that's what he says in Nona.

Thalergy, as far as it looks, is not directly connected to life. Jod murders completely lifeless planets in Solar system, and still gets his thanergy and Resurrection Beasts.

No thalergy/thanergy comes from moons, no Resurrection Beasts there.

Sun is not involved in thalergy/thanergy, there is no Sun Resurrection Beast. I suspect it applies to all stars and also to black holes.

Thanergy is somehow connected to wormholes (the River, might be also steles)

No necromancy in space. Yes necromancy on a planet.

Necros are able to produce additional mass out of nowhere (constructs made out of a single bone)

It does not add up for me, because I do not have enough knowledge, but what I think:

John and his team were working in cryogenics. I think they accidentally discovered not a solution for cryogenic, but some thing to keep thanergy (and possibly thalergy) within the body, when naturally it just dissipates. Prolonged exposure to thanergy is what gave John his powers. This also might explain why Augustine, Mercy and Gideon became necros - they were working with John originally and for a long time, and Alfred, Cristabel and Pyrrha did not - they joined much later.

I also think that thalergy is connected to gravity somehow. I mean, this explains lifeless planets but not moons - planets are gravitational centres of satellite systems. Stars are either too massive or maybe it is because of fusion in the core, or maybe it is cause stars a results of gravitational collapse, or idk. It also might explain why the Houses have artificial gravity. I mean, John is our contemporary or very close, and it looks like all resources were poured to FTL fleet. I mean, if they had artificial gravity and could build sustainable structures in space, why would they even consider leaving the system. Sounds cheaper to start terraforming Mars or just move to space.

River as a wormhole. Might be an actual wormhole and humans experiencing fifth dimension. We are not suited for 5th dimension. Mind just produces some supplement puctures, and that is why everyone sees Ressurection Beasts differently. But death-connected rivers or bodies of water is a very universal picture. Also, River is a cultural convention by this point. Also might explain why John was able to look into the body of other person and to easily change something in it.

Why thalergy is connected to life? Anoher theory I have is that it is connected to complex and developing structures (like, babies have more thanergy than an adult, and cancer is also), and thanergy is connected to enthropy?

Also, on thalergy/thanergy, it looks like thalergy is some form of particle, and thanergy is the decay?

So, all in all it just might look like some poking into fundamental interactions and theory if everything.

[sketchedboba]

"A Green Queen" AU

Daisies

The yoshi leapt and bounded as it tried its best to keep up with the floating ship.

"C'mon, we're almost there!", She exclaimed. "Just a little bit ahead"

The yoshi huffed only to skid to the side and run to the left. "Wait, no! The ship is that way!"

She tried to steer its reins to the right, but it yanked its head back again and sped towards the open desert.

It looked up and leapt once more before an array of crimson blocks appeared, leading up to the sky.

"Oh..", she noted. The yoshi looked back at her unamused. "Hehe sorry.."

It nodded then crouched down and jumped up onto the blocks. The two came onto the final block, the ship passing it quickly, and as the yoshi bounced towards it Daisy held in her excitement.

As the foot of her ride hit the edge, the two got knocked back by a huge boulder-like figure, falling into the sand below.

"No!", She yelled as she watched the ship leave. Daisy stood up, widened her stance, and faced the stagnant rock ready to fight it.

Several Ganchans broke off from their fused boulder form and rolled past her feet towards a figure behind her. The yoshi looked over to it and hid beside Daisy once it saw him.

"Leaving without a present-" the voice coughed.

Daisy's eyes widened as she turned towards it. "Ugh, not you again!"

Prince Khufo grinned, his fur pulsed with electricity causing him to twitch and jitter uncontrollably. "Y-You know, if I didn't know any better. I'd let you go, like my poor old father did."

"Out of mercy.."

"Hah! He did it out of pity, but I know better.", He clapped his paws together and out of the ground, several Ganchans stuck to her and the yoshi, imprisoning them in stone all the way up to their necks.

"You little shi-"

"Ah! Mind your tongue there, I'm not afraid to cut it off~", he snorted. "Besides, I have a proposition. As you know, running an empire is quite boring and I'm in the mood for something... entertaining. Without the King of Koopas to play with and most of my parties being put on hold, due to the damage done to my castle. I'd like to strike a deal."

Daisy blinked then started to laugh, leaving the Prince bewildered by her reaction.

"H-Hey! Im serious!"

Daisy sniffled, "Sorry, sorry. I can't help it. All I see is a little immature kitten getting into something over his head. You don't even realize the severity of this, do you?"

Khufo's chest puffed, "Y-Yes, I do! I'm well aware of the Koopa Troopa and Bowser's army, b-but they have no king so they're weakened.", He hissed "Besides, you haven't even heard what I wanted yet. If you're so adamant about NOT listening, there's always the forcing you."

She moved her head away as his light purple claw grazed her cheek, "What do you want?"

"Simple, I want you to spy on the Queen for me."

"Queen?!"

"Yes, Bowser's husband."

"Husband?!"

"How long are you going to do that?"

"That?!", She exclaimed. He squinted his eyes as she held in her laughter.

"....By the stars, my father should've-"

"I'll.. do it. But I want to know why."

Khufo sighed, "It hasn't clicked yet? Geez, you're both stupid and ugly."

"Ugly?!"

"SHUT UP!", he yelled. His fur stood on end as he did. "Look, I know you're after the little red human. However you won't be able to catch up to them without assistance, so I'll help you get to him and you can help me find out more information on the Queen."

She looked down at the yoshi. It would take at least a few weeks and possibly a month to not only figure out where the ship was heading but also to catch up to it on time.

"Sure, what the hell.."

"Excellent! While we're here anyways, any questions?"

"You said there was a Queen? I did hear a koopa yell his name, but I didn't know Bowser took on a partner."

"It was rumored amongst his allies, but I saw it with my own eyes and they seemed...fine."

"What does he look like?"

"..... Tall, fair skin, pretty hefty, blue eyes, facial hair."

"Could you be a bit more descriptive?", She groaned.

"You'll know him when you see him", Khufo smiled. He flicked his wing, to which the Ganchans released themselves from the two captives. "Now, I'll get you a small balloon. I'll cloak it for a few hours, but after that you're on your own. Get on it before getting caught."

Daisy checked the small cuts on the Yoshi and nodded. "And medical supplies."

Khufo blinked, "what for?"

"You injured this yos-"

"He'll live. It's a few cuts, get over it."

She stood up and aimed a punch at the Prince only for a shock of electricity and magic to shock her off of him.

"Ugh..."

"Like I said. Get over it."

She glared at him as he and the Ganchans headed back towards the castle.

"C'mon, you'll need to get on before sundown."

Daisy stood up slowly, the yoshi slightly nudged her to get on but she shook her head, "I'll be fine. You on the other hand..."

She ripped a few strips of clothes from her cloak and tied them around as many cuts and gashes as she could.

The yoshi beamed at the bandages then turned to her wagging its tail. She nodded and it gave her a quick lick to the face, causing her to laugh.

"You're welcome! Now, let's get going..", she sighed. Her eyes looked over to the Prince who was waiting for them to follow.

Both exchanged a glare, but she simply walked towards him, gripping the reins tightly. Her hands shook violently, upset she couldn't do anything further.

[willowbird]

for the fic prompt any trans Andrew thoughts? Or trans Neil or trans andreil lol dealers choice

DID SOMEONE SAY TRANSDREIL!?

But I would like to raise you... trans!Kevin. Because it has been STUCK in my HEAD for MONTHS now.

---

The knock on the door was heavy but sluggish - more of a crash or a thump than a knock at all. At first, David thought that it was some dumb kid being a jackass (even 5 star hotels had shitty guests), but then it came again. And again. And again.

Then, as David sighed and begrudgingly rolled off his bed to go to the door, he heard a thin, rough voice call through it: "Please... I don't know where else to go..."

David picked up his pace. He did not know what he expected when he jerked the door open, but the teenager standing there was not it - especially not in the state that they were in.

"What the actual fuck, Kaitlyn?

Kaitlyn Day, daughter of world-famous violinist Kayleigh Day and then adopted by Kayleigh's close friend Tetsuji Moriyama in the wake of her mother's death. David had known her for most of her life, albeit from a distance. He had been close with Kayleigh when they'd been younger, and although they'd had something of a falling out shortly before she became pregnant with Kaitlyn they had stayed in touch enough for him to have developed at relationship of sorts with her daughter.

Kaitlyn flinched away from him, actually stumbling backwards quickly enough that her shoulders hit the opposite wall.

"Shit," David cursed, stopping himself from rushing forward. Instead he lifted his hands in a steady, placating gesture and lowered his voice. "Fuck. I'm sorry kid. Don't worry I'm louder than I am mean, you know that. Come on." He stepped back into the room and held the door open for her, doing his best not to stare at the shadows under her eyes or the blood at the corner of her mouth, the bruises starting to form. David Wymack had seen his fair share bruised and battered kids, though, so maybe that was why it was almost more off-putting that, in addition to the physical trauma clearly on display, from the way she held herself to the blood and the bruises, her hair had been chopped off. It hung in uneven chunks around her face, and as she passed by him into the room David saw that there were some patches that had been so close to her scalp the blades had nicked the skin.

Swallowing his questions for the moment, David glanced quickly down the hall -- one way and then the other -- before shutting and locking the door. When he turned back around, Kaitlyn was standing clear on the opposite side of the room, hugging herself and chewing her thumbnail down to the quick.

David gave himself another twenty seconds to get his shit together, then he took a deep breath and stepped forward.

"Kaitlyn, what the fuck happened?"

Even though his voice was calmer now, steady, she still flinched. David grit his teeth against the bubbling of anger that churned in the center of his body -- a vat of blistering, protective rage that was getting closer and closer to boiling over every time she shirked away from him. Perhaps he did not know Kaitlyn as well as he might have if he and Kayleigh had been better to each other, if they hadn't fallen out in the way that they had, but he didn't have to be in the girl's inner circle to know that this... this timid thing before him was not her.

Kaitlyn Day was a fucking thunderstorm in human form. As captivating as she was terrifying, she was a musical prodigy that had been performing in huge, prestigious venues since she was three years old, first on the piano, then on violin, then flute, before stunning the world yet again when she opened her mouth and started to sing. International cross-genre acclaim was achieved when she was only fifteen, after she and her adoptive brother Riko diverted from classical music in a bold move to form a pop band.

She was an idol, with adoring fans on every continent.

She was also, David was remembering very suddenly and with a sharpness that hurt, an eighteen year old kid. She was a wildfire, but she was not invulnerable, and someone had hurt her.

"Kaitlyn," he said again, and he lowered his voice even further. He made himself as small as he could, sinking down to sit on the coffee table that filled out the small sitting area of the hotel suite.

Again, Kaitlyn's shoulders hitched up and her face turned, her brown condensing into a sharp v of discontent. When David opened his mouth to speak again, though, to plea with her to tell him what the fuck was going on and to demand she point him in the direction of the sorry fuck who touched her, her eyes snapped up to his and he finally saw that it wasn't only fear, it wasn't only pain. Burning right beside whatever trauma she was wrestling with was a bright, effervescent rage.

He snapped his mouth shut.

"No," Kaitlyn said. Her voice was rough, raspy. She cleared her throat and held his gaze as she said more clearly, putting in visible effort to keep herself steady to lift up her chin when her instincts were still begging her to duck it.

"No," she said again. "Not... Not Kaitlyn."

David frowned, confused. "What?"

Then she said, "Kevin."

Still not understanding, David shook his head. "Kaitlyn, what? Who is Kevin?" A thought struck him and he had to curl his hands into fists on top of his thighs to keep from standing. "Is he who did this? Point me in his direction, Kaitlyn, and I swear I--"

"No!" This time, her voice cracked, and there was a desperation in her tone that had David pulling back. Her eyes were wide, every muscle in her body taut. She swallowed thickly around the words he could see her trying to say. Her mouth opened and shut a few times, then she grit her teeth and growled, "No. Me. I'm not Kaitlyn. I am Kevin. Kevin."

Tears, a phenomenon that David had never before witnessed with Kaitlyn and had only ever seen once from her mother, welled suddenly in the girls eyes. Her face was flushed, tinged pink around the hurts. With her hair a chopped mess and her eye visibly beginning to well, the tears added a raw sort of wildness that was so far apart from the rigid control Kaitlyn usually adhered to with zealous enthusiasm that he fleetingly wondered if he was instead talking to a different girl entirely. A long-lost twin.

He shook his head, or at least he went to -- but he aborted the gesture mid-motion as the inkling of understanding tugged at him. He studied her, letting her words turn the lights on one at a time until the pieces finished falling into place.

Then he said, "Kevin." A question, a confirmation.

Jade fire eyes held his own and there was so much weight in that single stare.

After a long, tense moment where David didn't think either of them so much as breathed, the bearer of those eyes gave a single slow nod.

David took in a slow breath and nodded as well. "Alright. Okay. That's... good. Kevin." Slowly, so Kevin didn't think David's motive was violence, David pushed himself to his feet and approached. He lifted one hand and reached out. When the kid didn't flinch away, David rested it on his shoulder.

"Kevin," David said again, and because he was still holding the boy's gaze he saw the moment when Kevin's resolve shattered. The tears he had been battling back broke the dam. His shoulders slumped. His knees trembled. When he stumbled, David was there to catch him and he pulled him easily into his arms. He didn't pretend not to hear the sobs that came next, absorbed by his chest the same way the tears made their new home in the fabric of his shirt.

No, instead he wrapped his arms around him, around Kevin. He rested one hand on the back of his neck and squeezed gently and he said, "Hey, it's alright. I've got you, son. It's alright. I've got you. I'm here."