#but i could definitely mouth off for a millenia

[glitterghost]

About to fistfight anyone that's ever hurt Vessel.

[mychlapci]

Can we talk about vampires then auughhhhghhghhh look I grew up on vampire prowl I need him with fangs

By cybertronian standards maybe being a "vampire" is less of a curse and more just like. A fuel processing defect. Their systems cannot process any type of fuel other than medical grade. And unless you work in a clinic there isn't exactly medical grade energon readily available. The only place to get it is from other mechs' fuel lines

Prowl definitely sees it as a defect. A very shameful defect. He thinks it detestable to have to steal fuel straight from another mech. At least, thanks to Ratchet, he has a pretty reliable (and secret) supply of medical grade. He tends to try to stay along the back lines or even back at base to give his commands from there cos the energon that gets spilt everywhere during a battle drives him crazy. He makes sure to always stay away from the medbay for a while after a fight too.

But yknow things will eventually go wrong. It only takes one unfortunate chain of events to have him end up trapped in a cave with the twins during a mission. The twins are in pretty good shape, all things considered, but they have a few small dents and scrapes here and there. But they are leaking energon. And that's the one thing Prowl can't deal with.

As the twins look around the small space they are trapped in, looking for any possible ways out or maybe a weak crack in the rock, Prowl panics. He never panics. It's unbecoming of him to panic. Oh but he's shaking. He's backed himself into a corner, knees pulled up to his chest, as his doorwings rattle behind him.

Every step the twins take wafts the scent of fresh energon into his olfactory sensors. He's not seen or smelt fresh energon in... in years, millenia even if their time in stasis was considered. He can feel his jaw clench so tight that it hurts. His digits dig into his leg plating so hard it starts to dent.

His tanks suddenly feel so empty. He can see his HUD reflects that he should not be in dire need of fuel yet, but- all his other senses lie to him. There's a sharp pang in his tanks and an ache in his denta that tell him he needs it. Maybe he could just lick the stray drips of energon off- NO. No. He will not stoop to that level.

"-owl? Hey, Prowl! You gonna help us or what?"

Prowl's helm snaps up to see the twins leaning over him

"Yeah, you gonna just sit there and mope? Put your slagging battle computer to use and get us out of here."

Prowl's optics are wide as they dart between the twins. Sideswipe has a trail of energon from the side of his mouth, a crack on his arm, a small gash on his torso. Sunstreaker has a scratch on his cheek, a cut on his leg, a-

"Get away from me." He tries to sound stern. Like he's annoyed.

"Sheesh. We cause a cave in once and he doesn't even want to talk to us."

The twins banter back and forth for a bit as to whose fault it is that Prowl is being so cold with them today, but eventually they stop, realising Prowl isn't even giving them an annoyed look. He ducks his helm between his knees again and his doorwings continue to quiver.

"Hey... Sir, you okay?"

"Yeah did you get hurt or something?"

When Prowl doesn't respond, Sideswipe reaches a servo forward, and that's his mistake. The fresh cut on Sideswipe's forearm at such close proximity sets Prowl off. He grabs the offered arm and immediately larches on, sharp denta digging into the wound to tear it open.

"Ow! Hey- What-"

Sideswipe tries to push Prowl off whilst the tactician moans, fresh energon hitting his glossa.

"Prowl what the frag-" Sunstreaker is immediately in defence of his brother, yanking Prowl off Sides' arm and is shocked by the energon that suddenly spills from Prowl's intake and Sides' arm.

Prowl snarls in annoyance and turns his attention to Sunstreaker. The twin is expecting Prowl to struggle away and is really not ready for Prowl to twist his weight against him instead, knocking him to the ground, shock pinning him for just long enough.

Nasal ridge pressed against thick neck cabling, Prowl growls and feels for the minute charges along the cables, sorting between power and fuel lines, before he bares his fangs and sinks them into the largest fuel line he can identify.

Sunstreaker screams at the sharp pain in his neck. He kicks, but Prowl's mouth is firmly latched onto him, hungrily drinking down the energon that gushes from the wound. His engine purrs in contentment, until Sideswipe's tackles him from the side, launching him off Sunstreaker and onto his back

"FRAG. PROWL."

Prowl snarls and struggles under Sides, faceplates smeared with both twins' energon and sharp denta on full display. His optics are crazed and so bright they are nearly white.

ow this arrived back during the first prowl madness, and has gotten buried since... but I am glad that I can bring up vampire robots today. I need vampire robots. vampirism is like breastfeeding, in a way.

Prowl would be an edgy vamp for sure. But it's not much of a question of morality to him as it is a question of decency and shame. He knows he's not supposed to want to drink energon from living mechs' lines, so he pretends that desire doesn't exist. He has to.

ouh but Sunny and Sides smell so good, all riled up and hot and dripping with warm nutrients. It's a miracle he's lasted as long as he did... he doesn't have much control, living on a steady diet of medical grade and rarely seeing gorey battles made his resolve weak. Being exposed to warm energon drives him crazy. He's on top of Sunstreaker in a second, drinking his fill...

Man, It would be so fucked up if they had to stay trapped together while Prowl just kept trying to eat them. Sideswipe is not sure for how long he can keep Prowl restrained. He mellowed out a little after drinking from Sunstreaker, but he's still got that look on his face-plate, like he's ready to pounce any second now....

[mists-reading-nook]

{Celestial Ball Event} (I don’t know if I’m doing this correctly; please correct me if I’m mistaken I would appreciate it greatly)

I formally introduce Phthonus, and Raiden Ei. Hailing from Teyvat Universe #9/28.

The night was young, yet he already felt a millenia old.

“What are we doing here again, remind me Ei. Please?” A young man with long brown hair dressed in a light blue kimono with Dendrobiums fiddles with his sleeve. His dark azure eyes anxiously swivel around; he observes the partygoers as they return to the safety of their personal bubbles. There aren’t even that much attendees here yet and already he’s feeling trapped.

Ei aka the Raiden Shogun of Inazuma put a finger to her chin. “If I recall correctly, you wanted to attend this, ‘Ball of Gods’, because you desired to ‘take a step outside the palace for fresh air,’ which by all accounts you desperately needed.”

“Hmph. Of course I’d subject myself to something so healthy like fraternizing with the other gods in this-okay. Not gonna finish that thought because I don’t want to feel like a jerk. Or be a jerk. Whatever, point is: I’m gonna actually socialize with my fellow creators. And maybe get an ally or two-”

“Noraa, you’re rambling again.” Ei sternly point out.

“Noraa” cringed slightly at her voice. He nods in silent thanks. His eyes dip down towards the floor; he observes the patterns on his kimono and how interesting they look. 

The Raiden Shogun patiently places her hand in his and squeezes it lightly. “You will be fine, my heart, because I am here with you. If you ever forget that-” Noraa’s head snaps up, his eyes bore into hers with steely determination.

“I won’t,” he interrupts her. “I can’t. Rest assured Ei I will be totally normal during this event. I’ll…definitely make you proud.” A small smile graces Ei’s face.

“That’s the spirit.” Ei’s eyes flicker to somewhere behind Noraa. He looks behind him to find-

“Is that Zh-Morax? Oh, wait, but this is called the Celestial Ball. My guess is that that’s somebody else’s Morax.”

Ei tilted her head in curiosity. “So there exists…multiple Morax? How does that work, exactly?”

Oh boy, I suppose it’s time to discuss the concept of the multiverse, thought Noraa. 

He opened his mouth, the words on the tip of his tongue, when his stomach grumbled. He looked down and frowned. Then again, I can’t talk on an empty stomach. Hopefully the food table’s not that far.

“Perhaps…partaking in a meal or two will help before explaining to me the concepts of multiple Moraxes,” Ei noted. 

“Yes. That would be optimal.” Noraa snapped his fingers. A shadowy silhouette in his shape manifested from thin air. It looks around wildly, but before it could register anything Noraa cleared his throat to grab its attention. “Please, assist me in finding the food table.”

It nodded sharply and then melted into the floor. Then, it glided onto the walls past ornate lamps and frescoes, through several doorways until it found several long tables filled with delicious looking food; there was even a section dedicated to sweets. It raced back to inform its master, only to pause in the middle of the hallway. It felt something powerful, something turned its head and saw…

Her.

 A female. Tall, with green hair and brown skin(?) wearing an ornate headpiece and a sage green-colored dress. The intrinsic grace, that air of authority surrounding her. 

C̶R̶E̸A̶T̴O̵R̸ ̸D̸E̸T̴E̴C̷T̶E̷D̵

The silhouette observed her mingling. It tilted its head, curious, its current order quickly fading from its memory. A hunger-no, a desire to gather information about this…intriguing person grabbed its attention. Who knows? Perhaps she could be useful to its master, one day. Though it had no mouth, one could imagine the wide smile it would make if it had one.

The female-the one in charge of this party waved her guests off and turned to leave. This was its chance. It would only take five minutes before its master got curious. And hungry.

So it began to stealthily follow her, and it would try to learn about her as much as possible within that time frame.

[Does Mist confront the silhouette by herself, let it harmlessly observe her, or make it return to its master without batting an eye?]

///

I̸ ̴s̶u̸p̷p̵o̸s̸e̵ ̴a̶ ̴ba̵l̵l̸ ̶i̷s̶ ̶o̸n̴l̶y̶ ̶i̴n̵t̷e̶r̷e̸s̷t̸i̴n̵g̸ ̸i̷f̶ ̶t̸h̴e̷r̵e̶ ̷a̵r̸e̶ ̵t̸h̴o̷s̴e̴ ̵t̸h̴a̷t̷ ̶w̷i̸s̶h̵ ̶f̴o̵r̶ ̶i̶t̷ ̴b̵e̸ ̸s̵o̷.̸.̷.̶

[Context: Noraa and Ei are in a romantic relationship. Noraa is a creation deity, but didn’t create Teyvat; he found it by chance via his travels, and fell in love with the world, particularly Inazuma. Phthonus is just a name he picked from memory; Noraa is what he goes by, but that isn’t his true name. It’s something he only gives to those he considers truly close with. Finally, that power he just displayed is just a simple parlor trick compared to what he's truly capable of, not that he wishes to show off.]

Mist finished up her conversation with a group of guests,all of whom had now gone off to enjoy the festivities. She could feel eye's boring into her skull. She looked around,and in her peripheral vision,she spotted a shadow,watching her from afar. Ah,so a little shadow has taken an interest. How fun.

She hoped the shadow hadn't realized that they'd been caught. She didn't mind being followed,especially if it was something as harmless as a shadow. She moved towards another group of Deties,starting conversation and making sure that they were enjoying the ball so far. The conversation lasted a bit longer than she expected,but she continued anyway.

Soon the group left,and Mist was again standing alone. She swiftly walked over to the room with the food,heading over to one of the tables that had several different drinks. She picked up one of them and began to sip at it. If she was being honest,she wasn't too thirsty. However,she needed a break. She couldn't quite understand how she holds events like this all the time,yet still gets overwhelmed.

She stood next to the table for a moment,wondering what her next move would be. She looked around,and spotted a familiar silhouette. Oh,the shadow. She had almost forgotten about it. Before she could confront it,however,the shadow melted into the floor and dashed away. Ah,she supposed she startled it. She moved to a different table,looking for something she would enjoy eating. She didn't really need to eat,but she enjoyed it anyway. She found the table she was looking for,and picked up a couple chocolate covered strawberries. She didn't often like sweets,but this one in particular had a special place in her heart. As she enjoyed the treat,a couple walked in. More guests. She smiled and gave a small wave,suprised when the couple walked up to her.

She cleared her throat,smiling as they walked up. "Hello. Who might you be?" She said,giving them both a quick once over. She noticed that the young looking man had a similar silhouette to the shadow that had been tailing her. So this was the creator of the shadow. How interesting.

The man introduced himself as Phthonus,though he said he goes by 'Noraa',and the lady introduced herself as Ei. "Ah. Hello Noraa,Ei. My name is Mist,I am the host of this Ball. I trust that you are enjoying yourself?"

Noraa nods. "We are. Although,I must ask. Are you a Creator God? You definitely seem like one." Mists eyebrows raised in suprise. Straight to the point.

Mist nodded "Yes I am. I would suppose you are as well?" Norra nodded again. "I would guess that you are the creator of the curious little shadow who was following me?" Now it's Noraa's turn to be suprised.

"It was following you? I sent it out to find food,not to follow anyone". Mist chuckles.

"Well,shadows do tend to have a mind of thier own." She smiles. "It's fine though. I just wanted to know what made you so interested in me. But now I know that I simply caught the little shadows attention." Mist looks around the room,suddenly very aware of how empty it was. She supposed she should get back to greeting guests,although she didn't really want to. She'd much rather keep talking to the God infront of her. However,she was the host,so it was her duty to make all guests feel welcome. "Well,I must get back to greeting guests. I do hope you enjoy the Ball." She paused. "I would love to continue this conversation another time however." She smiled before saying a quick goodbye and swiftly walking across the room,her heels clicking on the floor.

Noraa stares at Mist as she scurried away,her heels clicking on the floor. The couple is silent for a moment,before Ei clears her throat. "So,about the multiple Moraxes..."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Slight lil cliffhanger thingy!

Been gone for a bit cus writers block hit me like a truck,but I'm back to posting stuff again!!

[wanderdell]

The Tattoo of Royalty

Prompt response to "[WP] You thought the design for the tattoo on your wrist was a good one, until a man from another world shows up and mistakes it for a sign that you're the next heir. Now you have to convince him and a whole country you are not in fact a reincarnated God."

"My lord, you need not be humble."

Drew breathed in, and out. The stage lights were making him sweat, and he was acutely aware of every drop of sweat glistening as it accumulated across his face. Itching to wipe it off while knowing there were thousands, if not millions watching.

He had not regretted the tattoo for a moment until the day, three weeks ago, when the alien had rung his cell phone. The most customary form of contact, it had explained, among the human nations so it had thought it only polite to learn how.

Since then it had been utterly surreal chaos.

"My lord, your followers have returned, as it was foretold. You have denied 18 times, and in 18 ways. It was foretold."

The worst thing about it was Drew couldn't even be angry at him. Or it. Humanoid, masculine in appearance. Wearing a robe that covered it's face. Had a name he couldn't pronounce, and one he definitely wasn't about to mangle on live television. It was unfailingly polite, irritatingly unfailingly patient, more or less respected his boundaries despite the weeks of constant contact, and deferred to him before the aliens ship would have any contact with the rest of humanity. Utterly sincere and convinced in its belief that he was the one they had been waiting nearly a millenia for.

Why he'd ever agreed to this in a million years, he wouldn't know.

Oh, that's right. The money. He had to think about the money.

He took a breath in, and prepared to anger the only alien contact man had ever had. They'd hate him forever if he screwed this one up. He'd be broke too, but he could figure that one out later.

He wished they'd given him some coaching to prepare. A script to read off. But the people up the chain had spoken, and even though the Secretary and a Major General stood behind him ready to step in if it came to it, he was on his own. Power of a god, they said. Should be able to tell the aliens anything you wanted, they said.

"And I will tell you a 19th time," Drew said. "It is a series of coincidences. You've made the facts fit as you wanted. I'm no reawakened god. I'm a delivery courier. I ride a bicycle for a living."

The alien nodded gravely, and drew one hand up slowly, palm forward. In the cusp of the leathery skin was a silver cube. Before Drew could open his mouth to ask what it was or what it was for, the cube began to glow, spinning upwards and outwards.

In moments the small stage was covered with a greyish hologram globe, cutting out everything but the audience, the alien, the three people who had convinced him to do this, and Drew.

Mr Gerefeld, who had stood silently behind Drew the entire time, pulled out a phone and began to speak into it. His previously equally silent opposite, Marcus, had drawn and assembled a weapon that was bigger than Drew in the time it had taken Drew to remember to breathe, and sighted it on the alien. Madam Berger had taken a step forward, and spoke.

"Ahrethganel, child of Haran, we are here to broker peace between our nations. The conditions were that the negotiations be transmitted to a United Nations audience. You gave us no warning of this technology. Do you threaten us? Have we been cut off?"

The alien gestuered to the hologram wall closest to it, and the silver screen around them began displaying images. Gerefeld and Berger fell silent. Drew was already silent. He wasn't sure he had the words to express how simultaneously important and absolutely tiny and insignificant he felt in that moment.

The images were familiar. It was plainly somewhere on Earth. He was sure he'd seen that park before. And that house. And the girl with the pink bike. The horror slowly began to dawn on him.

The alien spoke slowly and clearly. Pausing after each sentence to make sure it sank in.

"My lord, we have been waiting for far longer than your Terran years. Our people have watched and waited until it was time. Kept watch over you and your nest, as was our duty."

Drew watched as each short clip of his life played out. Felt like the lowest form of idiot because how could he not know they were watching? They had everything. Every year of his life ran in snippets. Recordings of all of it. Lists of data scrolled down to the left and right, in English Standard and presumably whatever script the alien used. Names of his friends, phone numbers, relationships. For a brief time, even his Google searches were displayed.

The sweat grew to cold wet patches on his shirt. The dress shirt he had borrowed from his brother after the government wouldn't lend him the money to buy a suit for the occasion. The heat was eating at him, the need to wipe his face becoming nearly overwhelming. His anger grew with it.

"Stop. Turn it off. I don't want everyone to see this. Enough."

"As you wish, my lord. I assure you, the recordings are only visible to those within the sphere."

Some part of Drew's brain recognised the furious whispering going on behind him as trying to get a connection into what was happening inside the hologram. No doubt berating technicians and analysts and military advisers for the failure to predict the watchers being cut off.

"I can't do this anymore. I've been arguing with you for weeks. I'll come with you, but I won't tell your people I am their god. Or tell mine. I am no one's lord, either."

"As you wish, my lord. The arrangements will be made. The peace between Haran and the United Nations of Earth and Mars is now and eternal."

A moment of silence from the party behind them. Hesitant voices as they spoke the phrase of agreement. Speaking out of sync because nobody had believed it would possibly be that straightforward.

"Earth, Mars and Haran. Now and eternal."

..............................

Feedback welcome and much appreciated! Still learning. Thanks for reading! :)

[babylyctor]

can John actually control time or am i making things up? trying to reach a conclusion via tumblr posting

so as a theory this is 75% vibes. however there’s some things in the books that give me pause, and i wanted to put together all those bits and see if there’s something there. i’m not totally on board with this idea because it seems too complex to leave entirely to the last book, and i don’t know how it could fit with the rest of the narrative (or do i?) but in any case i keep thinking about it so here’s this way too long post. spoliers for everything

first, this fucking suspicious sentence that’s one of the first things John tells Harrow (Chapter 2, HtN)

"I would let you come back, bit by bit, until you felt entirely ready to wake up. I can’t. I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time. I have to ask you to get ready soon, and so I am going to show you something I hope might … trigger your readiness.”

so this sounds like a really dull complaint on this immortal god’s part but also i don’t trust a single thing out of this man’s mouth, and this would be the exact kind of private joke he would make if he had actually mastered Time (capitalized) too. Also the context in which it’s said, talking about Harrow coming back from her coma, regaigning consciousness, awakening... you get it, oddly relevant theme wise.

then there’s the whole Soup Moment (Chapter 25, HtN), in which John seems to actually stop time maybe? i have doubts about this so lets see what our narrator tells us;

And God said, “Stop.”

The world slowed down. Augustine and Mercymorn stopped, arrested in the act of half-rising from their seats. Ianthe stopped, left arm paused, outflung, to shield her face. You stopped, sitting upright in your chair: your bones somehow rigid and still, and your flesh chilly and rigid around those bones. The shrapnel spray from the Saint of Duty did not stop, [...] But what remained of him stopped too, half man, half rupture—his prurient details hot and white, naked insides clothed with the sinus-drying burst of the power of God.

so here John freezes all the lyctors in place, they’re still conscious, or at least Harrow is, but they have their range of movement almost totally restricted. this is not like Mercy pinching Harrow’s dorsal nerve to paralyze her, this is a completely different feeling, maybe John’s thalergetic powers? it would make sense, all the lyctors are living bodies, they have thalergy and Johs is able to manipulate that, presumably. the bits of Gideon OG cascading down the table don’t stop but that might be John selectively using his powers, or it might be that that’s no longer living flesh.

so we’re saying this could just be John’s super special thalergy magic and nothing else. the first problem though is that technically he shouldn’t be able to use it against his lyctors without touching them, thanks to lyctoral invisibility. in fact when he explodes Mercy’s chest (rip in peace queen) he expressely reaches out and touches her to do so, because presumably he needs to make contact with a body in order to use magic against it, same as Mercy. so that’s a caveat, then there are these descriptions from the same Soup Moment;

You stared down the table at him: at the blank, remote faces of your two nominal teachers—at the frozen ivory stillness of Ianthe, her hair now whitish pink—at space outside the window, where the asteroids themselves seemed to hang in tranquilized arrest.

The Emperor of the Nine Houses stood. The spell, whatever it had been, dropped like a white sun setting.

These seem to imply certain ambiguity. John’s God and all that but i don’t think thalergetic magic should be able to affect asteroids, lifeless space rocks. of course it says they “seem” to hang in tranquilized arrest, not that they are really unmoving, but i think it’s a suggestive sentence all the same, and i’m suspicious of every word Muir writes. The second quote, specifically the highlighted part, is also a bit frustrating. It seems to imply that John isn’t exactly doing magic as we know it, but something else. If it was Harrow narrating we could go further with it, but since it’s Gideon we could simply attribute it to her lack of knowledge and familiarity with magic. However, two sentences after that we don’t have that problem;

The construct gamely clamberign our of the Saint of Duty dwindled to a powder of pink dust. The shard you had been driving up the cervical vertebrae to the base of the spine [...] simply disappeared: destroyed or removed, you could not tell.

This is still Gideon narrating but in this case she’s specifically telling us that Harrow doesn’t understand what John just did, it’s not magic Harrow is familiar with. There’s also the contrast between what we know is a normal process of destroying a construct - reducing it to dust -  vs this mysterious disappearance, that doesn’t really fit into what we know so far about the way thanergy/thalergy work.

so far, nothing conclusive, we know John is really powerful, but we don’t know exactly how, where his power comes from or what it can do. Then there’s the moment he unexplodes himself (Chapter 52, HtN);

White light.

It bleached the insides of your nose and the back of your throat. It hurt coming out your ears. It bled out your eyeballs. It wasn’t a flash of light, more … a suddenness; when it was gone—as though it hadn’t even existed, but had been a luminous hallucination—time stopped.

That light took colour from the room—everyone was a slow-motion cavalcade of greys, of eyes caught widening, of mouths parting in stone-shaded articulations of shock.

It happened in an instant. It happened over a myriad. A wet red construct knitted itself back together, [...]

again that white light that has been associated with thalergy magic and again all these references to time slowing down, stopping or just behaving in strange ways in general. again lots of ambiguity, this could be a thalergy based power - the ability to hold living bodies in stasis, and therefore make everyone feel like time has slowed down - or it could be that John is actually affecting time, maybe even reversing it (?) since he literally un-exploded himself, after Mercy put all her millenia of expertise into atomizing him and reducing him to almost nothing.

is that even explicable with regular thanergy/thalergy based magic? i’m not sure, a regular necro could never do that, a lyctor couldn’t do that. So if John isn’t just an overpowered lyctor what’s the difference exactly? i mean, how do his powers manifest differently from those of every other necromancer we know?

the other person we’ve seen using powerful thalergy magic is Silas. Whenever he siphoned, Gideon describes a similar vacuum sensation to the one that John’s magic also provokes, as well as white light;

As he faded, the pale Silas incandesced. He glowed with an irradiated shimmer, iridescent white, and the air began to taste of thunder. (Chapter 17, GtN)

Gideon felt an internal tug, like a blanket being pulled off in the cold. (Chapter 17, GtN)

Silas clambered to his knees, clasped his fingers together, and the feeling of suction popped the pressure in both of Gideon’s ears. (Chapter 34, GtN)

Silas is nowhere near as powerful as John but siphoning - thalergy based magic, condemned by God - still causes that suction effect and is marked by white light and lightning, just like John’s magic. However, there’s no mention of a time altering effect, no slowing down, no freezing in place, and seeing how both kinds of magic are similarly coded otherwise i find this difference suspicious.

To end this somewhere, two quotes, first, this thing Harrow tells Ortus when they both discuss what it must be like to be a lyctor (Chapter 5, HtN);

“Nigenad, what would be the tragedy in living for a myriad? Ten thousand years to learn everything there is to know [...] What is the tragedy of time?”

honestly to me that sounds like Muir making Harrow say things she will regret later. of course it could be about any of the numerous tragedies in Harrow life but still, gave me pause, specially because it kinda echoes John’s earlier sentiment, wishing he had mastered Time.

finally, a quote that might be totally meaningless and completely off base in this theory or it could round it up perfectly, i haven’t decided yet;

[...] ; yet you prayed all the while knowing Ianthe’s facility for tergiversation would have given the whole universe pause. (Chapter 36, HtN)

we know Ianthe is a girlboss and gaslighting is her thing. However, isn’t this sentence a bit too dramatic to describe Ianthe? doesn’t it sound kinda ominous to you? it definitely does to me, and although it might totally be my Ianthe bias wanting her to play an important part, who is Ianthe hanging out with lately? exactly John God “Jod” the Emperor.

in conclusion, i haven’t reached any conclusion. but i still think there’s something off with John’s powers beyond what we’ve been told, which isn’t much really, and i think there’s something going on with Time within the narrative (that’s another whole post though), and i think these two things are most probably related. but i can’t say i’m 100% sure of any of it. this was fun though. if you made it here thank you so much you’re the best <3

[blueseasfanfics]

Bed Warmer

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Description: In Asgard, Prince Loki chose you to serve him. He catches you sleeping in his bed one night, and your punishment only confuses you. He wants you to be his bed warmer for the night. Fluff, slow burn.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Took a tiny break. Honestly, I need a lot of motivation to write these lately. I love writing them but my emotional state is in shambles at the moment. But writing Loki fic is healing for the soul. I hope reading it helps too.

Want to support me for only $3 or commission a personal fic from me? Incredibly personalized and great prices! Check out my ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/starryeyedalien

------

You fell asleep in Loki’s room.

You didn’t mean to, but you were exhausted after cleaning the rest of the room and his bed was so inviting. He had the most comfortable sheets, the softest blankets.

Anything befitting a prince.

Plus, Thor had dragged him off on some sort of trip for the week, the castle was supposed to be bare-boned and the wing with Loki’s rooms were unpopulated for the moment.

You could take a nap.

But no, you forgot Loki often came back whenever he wanted to, not on a schedule.

You woke up in the dark, the sunlight that was streaming in from his huge windows now gone. In a panic, you scramble to get up until a voice from the shadows freezes you in your tracks.

“Don’t get up on my account.” Smooth words from a silver tongue.

“P-prince Loki, I truly-”

“Apologize? For not cleaning my rooms to my satisfaction? You should be apologizing. Just look at the bed, it’s a mess.”

“Y-yes and I’ll fix that right now and-”

“And what? You still fell asleep in my bed. That’s a grave offense you know.”

He says it calmly but you are nowhere near calm, your heartbeat so loud you can hear it in your ears. You scrabble again to get out of his bed and start quickly tidying up the bed, but he lights a candle that was on his nightstand.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see him in the warm light. He’s shirtless, in loose fitting pants that are low on his waist. You catch yourself staring and snap your eyes up to his face, and feel even more panic as you see he’s looking straight at you. He has a bemused smirk on his face, but you have no idea what he could be amused by.

“I-I’m r-really-”

“You stutter too much.” He mutters and you nod, quickly bending back down to fix the blankets and he sighs.

“Do you understand why I chose you to be my servant?”

“M-my...obedience?”

You hadn’t actually ever thought on it. You had been working in the stables for the longest time, caring for the horses. You were always able to calm them down and barely spoke to anyone at all. Then suddenly, you’re being whisked away to be Prince Loki’s personal maid.

Deep down you resented it. You missed the horses, with your only glimpses of them being trips in the dark of night to say hello. It was forbidden to see them without a key, so you could only go when everyone else was asleep. Not like you had time to see them anyway. It’s been a long few months of cleaning and fetching and orders.

In that time, this was the longest Loki had ever spoken to you.

“Are you obedient? Deep down? Is your purpose to answer my every heed?”

“Y-yes?”

He sighs again, and you have the sinking feeling that you’re saying the wrong things.

“You were more fun when you were screaming at me.”

You’re bewildered. You had never screamed at him before in your life. The only people you had ever even risen your voice towards were those that were messing with the horses.

You screamed at one hooded knight once, for trying to take a wounded horse to ride. But that was months ago.

You take a second to think.

Oh, that bastard.

“Well, you shouldn’t have tried to steal a horse. You could have simply asked kindly and I would have found you one you could have ridden.”

“I wanted that one.”

“He was hurt.”

“I don’t care. You give someone of the court what they want, no questions asked.”

You ball up the blanket you’re holding in your fists, trying to bite down your rage.

“I would not let anyone injure a horse further.”

“Next time, you give me the horse I wish. Or else there will be consequences.” You can feel him staring at you, but you keep your eyes pointedly staring at the blanket in your hands.

“I will not.”

“Then you and the horse will die.”

“You will die before that horse does.” Your hand flies to your mouth the second the words come out, dropping the blanket. You look up at him in fear, expecting rage, but instead you’re met with a wide grin.

It feels mildly predatory, as if he got what he wanted.

“S-sir I didn’t-”

“I told you I liked it better when you were yelling at me.”

“I didn’t think that was true-”

“Do I lie that much that you think everything I say is false?” He says, with mock hurt on his face.

You can only shrug. It’s improper, but this whole situation is improper.

He studies your face as you study his. The eye contact is growing unbearable, as is fighting the urge to not look him over fully again.

“C-can I take my leave?” You whisper and he shrugs.

“You seemed so comfortable in my bed. Sleeping away without a care in the world.”

“I already apologized for that.”

“I’m your master, I would think I get a better apology than that.”

“What do you...mean…” You trail off as he slides elegantly into his bed, lifting the blanket as an invitation.

You stand next to the bed, not moving a muscle.

“Sir, I am not going to-” You say through gritted teeth before he rolls his eyes.

“Such an improper mind. I simply want a bed-warmer. Get a nightcloth from the closet and get in.”

“I-”

“Do it.” His words have a biting edge to them as he drops the blanket and turns away from you. You stare for a moment at his back, seeing it littered with scars. You had never seen those before and they’re hypnotizing, but after a moment you break away and rush to his closet.

He had many ladies nightclothes, in case of late-night visitors, but you had never taken too much of a look. Lately, they hung gathering dust in his cabinet.

You grab the first one you see, and hiding in the dark as much as possible you strip off your uniform and slip into the gown.

It was intended for those of a higher class, the fabric feeling as smooth as air against your skin. It was also obviously made for those wanting to show off, as it was incredibly revealing.

“Are you stealing my closet, or does it just take you millenia to change clothing?” His words come out calm but you still feel the need to rush, and you come out quickly. After a moment's hesitation, you slide into the bed next to him.

You lay on the edge as far away from him as you can and face away from him.

“Oh come on, you were sprawled out so sweetly earlier.”

He sounds like he’s facing you, and you freeze.

“Yes, well, this is your bed.” You say back.

“And I’m telling you to warm it.”

“Didn’t I do that enough through the sprawling from earlier?” A slight touch of your irritation comes out and you curse yourself on the inside.

“Such sass from a servant.”

“Apologies-”

“Never apologize again. It’s so incredibly unlike you, and I hate liars.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“See? Doesn’t that feel so much better? Giving me all your vitriol?”

He almost sounds like he’s laughing under all of his words, but he keeps the same crooning, calm tone.

“I’d rather not die, sir. Life feels better than giving you my mind.”

“If anyone was doling out death threats tonight, it was you.”

You whip around to face him, propping yourself up as you look down at him.

He’s giving you a lazy smile from his relaxed and laid-back position, and that just grows your irritation further.

“I only threatened death on you for proposing it on an innocent creature.”

“Very noble of you, saving those less fortunate. Think you could have saved yourself with that fighting spirit.”

“I don’t especially need saving.”

“Ah, yes. That is why you are a servant, and not a warrior.”

“You are just cruel.”

“That is one of my titles, yes.”

“Why am I in this bed?”

“I told you. Bed-warmer.”

“You just wanted power over me, didn’t you?”

“As if I didn’t already have that. With your little stutter and fear rolling off you in waves.”

You’re seething, but confused. Both on why you’re so irritated, and why you’re suddenly allowed to give him all this irritation. In his bed, no less.

“Then why-”

“As I said. You seemed content in my bed.”

“So? Anyone would be content in your bed.”

“Many people are. For different reasons than yours, though.” He yawns, and examines his fingernails.

“Am I boring you?” You say sarcastically and he nods, glancing up at you.

“Quite honestly, yes. I expected to be asleep by now. But the bed is awfully cold, and someone is talking an awful lot.”

“Mainly you.” You mutter and lay back down again, facing away from him. You scoot to the middle of the bed, forgetting your need to keep distance.

“Is that better?” You ask, then your breath hitches as one arm snakes around your waist. He presses you against his chest and you can feel his chin on the top of your head. He has you locked against him like a puzzle piece, and you freeze in place.

It feels good, and a small part of you admits this is the safest you have ever felt in this castle, but you will never admit it to him.

“Don’t worry. I’m a gentleman.” He murmurs, his voice right next to your ear.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You try to choke back any fear, but your words still come out in a shaky whisper.

“I’ll only touch you when you ask for it.”

You try to sleep, simply closing your eyes and trying not to focus on him anymore.

It doesn’t work. His entire being is distracting.

“You have a huge ego.”

“Most definitely.”

“I’m not warming your bed every night.”

“Whatever you wish.”

“You’re irritating.”

“The threat against the horse was a lie. I will never hurt your horses.”

“Incredibly irritating.”

“Most definitely.”

After that you both stay in silence, him keeping true to his word and not moving his hand from your waist and you eventually relaxing in his grip. The more you relax, the more tired you are, until you fall asleep in his arms.

---

You wake up alone in the bed, with the blanket tucked up to your chin. You blink away the sleep, and a glint comes off the pillow next to you. Feeling for whatever it was, you find it and pick it up.

A key to the stables, with a note attached. Quick, scribbled script is written on it in black ink.

“Thank you - Loki.”

[sporadiclilbook]

Ooo I loved how you wrote Diluc for the event! Could you do zhongli as well?

Woah, thats a lot of Zhongli request. You guys sure like Zhongli huh, me too! :D

Hope you like this anons! And since there's lots of request I'll guess I'll make it longer?

Yan!Zhongli snapping

"Rex Lapis, my lord?" Zhongli snapped out of his thoughts as he hear your voice. The serene overlook of Liyue Harbour on top of Mount Tianheng was simply mesmerising. Turning around to look at you, he simply sighed "(Y/N), you do realise that I am no longer the Geo Archon. There is no need for formalities. Please, just call me Zhongli." Even with that said you still bowed to him. Old habits die hard he guess. Although he doesn't mind if you can't shake it off, except if it was in public.

It was no secret that among the adepti that you were close to him. He would often spend time with you, alone and sometimes with your fellow adepti or Guizhong. He must admit, all those time spent with you had made him fall for you. At first it was just a normal infatuation. A gentle wave. But after the Archon War and the death of Guizhong. He realises that you could be lost as well after seeing you heavily injured. Perhaps that is why in the contract he forged himself stated that you could never leave Liyue in under any circumstances. Tasking you with making sure the harvest of the people of Liyue was bountiful.

However, long after the Archon War, you longed to see more of Teyvat. Living a long life in one country made it feel like it was a small empty room. In the same period of time, Morax's wave of infatuation slowly become a tsunami that wanted to consume you whole. To keep safe within it's waves. To keep you safe within Liyue.

And that's why you were here. You wanted to break your contract.

"Oh....right..... It's Zhongli now. Apologies, I am still not used to you living a mortal life." He simply let out a small laugh "I don't blame you for it. I, too, am still getting use to it. May I ask to what honour do I have to meet one of my faithful adeptus?" He was glad that you still willingly come to see him. He was planning to visit whenever he was free as the funeral consultatant. Maybe one of these days he'll even invite you to some tea

"I was wondering if I....."

How wonderful it could be. Speaking of the good old days in private. Perhaps getting to know you closer as a friend and more instead of your lord. He was delighted at the thought. After millenia of knowing each he could finally--

"call off our contract."

His train of thoughts stopped. Eyes wide, mouth agape a little. "Call of.....our contract?" You nodded "Yes indeed. Seeing how the people of Liyue would do fine without you, I thought that maybe it's time for me to retire as well." Zhongli took a long breath before answering. Why....would you want to break off this contract? You swore your upmost loyalty to him ages ago and now you were just going to.....break it? "Oh....ah...hmm. I see.....May I ask why would you want to break off our contract?" After everything he has done to make sure his little crystal fly wouldn't flutter into any danger, they're just going to voluntarily flutter into some?!

Unacceptable. A corner of his mind spoke. Old personalities of war threatening to rise. To just whisk them away right there and now.

Perhaps a change of terms in the contract would suffice.... Another thought chimed in, being more reasonable albeit manipulative.

"Forgive me, my lord. I know breaking a contract is a great offense to you but please conside-" You stopped midway as you see the earth grasping your legs, petrifying it. You looked up to look at Zhongli in confusion only to be frightened. Zhongli's eyes had slits for a pupil. His faced was painted with an infuriated expression. "M-my lord. Please, calm dow--"

"Silence!"

His sudden outburst made you shut up immediately. You thought that he would be disappointed but you didn't expect him to be angry.

"You do realise that our contract cannot be broken? Do you not?" His voice was still low despite his rage. Making you more frightened. "In under no circumstances it shall be broken. Do you understand?" He walked up to you and tilted your chin up so that your eyes meet his. "I said do you understand?" "Yes my lor-" "Zhongli." "Yes Zhongli."

He lets go of your chin, unpetrifying your legs and crossed his arms "Then I suppose we have an understanding?" Should you risk it? Should you risk to ask why he would not let you go? Most of yourself wanted to. To at least know the reason. "But why would you not allow it?" Zhongli narrowed his eyes. It was filled with anger as if he has been betrayed "Why won't you let me go out of Liyue?"

Zhongli let out a frustrated grunt. Why are you being so difficult? "Because it is what you agreed to. You agreed to stay in Liyue." He grabbed one of your hands and held it tight. "Why can't you just stay? It's not that hard, is it not? I'm doing this to keep you safe." You were a bit annoyed, you do know how to fight. You can handle yourself just fine! "Safe? I'm fine on my own! I don't need to be-"

"No."

"I refuse. Why must you be so difficult (Y/N)? Can't you not see that this is the best for you?" His tone was low, akin to a growl at this point. He pulled you towards him, his eyes deeply staring into yours. "I may not be Liyue's Archon anymore but a contract is a contract." Zhongli was frustrated. You could see it in his eyes. "Why is it that you refuse to let me go Zhongli? What reason do you have? Tell me Zhon-- no, tell me Morax why won't you let me out of Liyue?"

Slowly you feel yourself being petrified.

"It's because...

The petrification was at your waist

I love you deeply (Y/N)."

You let out a shocked gasp wanting to say something but your mouth was also turning to stone.

"Trust me, this is for your own good."

Your entire body was petrified in stone. Unmoving. Zhongli felt no regret having to make you immobile like this. He can't let you go out of his sight anymore. He wants you to stay in a definitive location where he knows you're safe. He shall keep you in a remote place where even your fellow adepti wouldn't find you.

"Consider your eternal isolation a punishment for trying to break our contract."

[taephilia]

temporary fix

pairing: kim taehyung x fem!reader

genre: smut, demon/angel au (demon!taehyung, angel!reader)

word count: 2,084

warnings: sexual content (fingering, thigh grinding, hickeys), alcohol consumption, religious themes (specific to christianity), corruption kink if you squint, pov switches

a/n: i posted this on tae’s birthday but tumblr is annoying and didn’t let this show up in the tags so ahaha this is a repost :-)

You don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. The elders believe you’re just going through a late bloomer type of rebellious phase. Your friends think you’re just getting restless because of all of the, what they deem, ‘boring’ humans you’ve had to watch over for the past few centuries. You don’t know what it is but what you do know is that it feels like an itch you just can’t get rid of. It continues to come back and you’re constantly scratching at it, wondering when it will finally go away.

The bass from the music sends a thrum through your veins that you’ve never experienced before and the taste of the drink in your hand makes you grimace but the warm feeling you get in your chest urges you to continue drinking. The amount of heat produced from hundreds of bodies crowded together in one building is enough to cause sweat to run down your back and the smoke floating above everyone’s heads makes the air feel even heavier (whether it’s from these ‘vapes’ that you’ve heard so much of or smoke machines, you’re not sure). You’ve never understood why the mortals would willingly wait in absurdly long lines just to be in a club like this for hours whenever you looked down on them from the heavens. But now that you’re here on Earth, blending in with the humans and experiencing it for yourself, you now see that it’s a thrill like no other.

A hand on the small of your back makes you pause during your way back to the dance floor and when you look up, you’re met with the darkest, most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. Even in the dim lighting the stranger’s eyes look deep enough to drown in—and it almost feels like you are until they step closer to you and you realize that their eyes are not the only thing beautiful about them. When you refocus, you realize that the beautiful eyes belong to an equally beautiful man with an even more beautiful smile. A smile that’s directed right at you.

“Hey there, angel,” the man greets you, and even with the loud music and shouting, his low voice is clear as day to your ears. “Wanna dance?”

The pet name sends a shiver down your spine and it feels like your head’s about to fall off your shoulders from how eagerly you’re nodding. The handsome man pulls you on to the dance floor and presses his body close to yours, his hands resting on your waist as he helps you dance to the rhythm of the music. If it weren’t for the jarring bass, you definitely would have been able to feel just how hard your heart is pounding in your chest from his proximity and touch. He spins you around so that your back is up against his chest and when you feel his lips press a kiss into the bare skin of your shoulder, you find yourself wondering if this is what it felt like when Eve took that first bite of fruit from the Garden of Eden all those millenia ago.

Taehyung is bored. Humans are just so painfully mundane and predictable; the rich taking from the poor just to stay rich, officials arguing over politics and ethics and good and evil, middle-class people working themselves almost to the point of exhaustion and then consuming absurd amounts of alcohol just to relax. It’s old news, a cycle that they say they’ll break out of—even Taehyung himself said it when he was a mortal centuries ago. So he understands that need to stand out, to seek glory and free the human race from its metaphorical chains. But he’s a demon now and all humans seem to show him is that no matter how much they try to fight it, there will always be a small part of them that will reject the breaking of the cycle. And so it continues; sex, drugs, crime, war. He’s watched empires rise and fall, had roles both in the spotlight and in the shadows, and yet nothing ever changes. It’s comical at this point.

Besides, as much as Taehyung complains about these unfortunately dense humans, they’re the ones that keep him powerful. As long as he keeps bringing back souls or converting people ‘to the dark side’, he can continue to live this eternal life of luxury. Because hey, he’s a demon now so what does he care about breaking the human cycle?

He’s been enjoying his night at his favorite club so far, the large amount of alcohol that he’s already consumed only producing a buzz in his body but the sinful energy tonight is enough to make him feel like he’s drunk. But then something happens; a moment of clarity appears, like a beacon of light passing right by him, and when he looks up, he sees her. An ordinary human to any other ordinary human looking but to his well-trained eyes, he can just make out the very faint light from the halo hovering above her head. The clothing adorning her body only accentuates her innocent-looking features and before Taehyung can even process what his body is doing, he’s making his way over to her and his eyes remain glued to the halo above her head.

Taehyung hopes that by the end of the night, he’ll be able to watch it disappear.

You think you’re getting drunk. You’re not particularly sure since you’ve never had alcohol before but you definitely don’t feel the way you felt at the beginning of the night. But the thrum in your veins could also be because of the handsome man’s hands on your body. Taehyung, he had told you when you asked him his name. When you repeated it back to him, the way it effortlessly rolled off your tongue felt right. Taehyung stays at your side the entire night, offering endless drinks and endless energy to continue dancing with you, and the smile never leaves your face.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy and your body doesn’t feel the same as before but you can’t say that it feels bad, especially with the way that Taehyung’s lips feel on your neck right now. His grip on your hips is tight and when he shoves a leg in between yours and presses his thigh up against you, you experience a feeling of pleasure like no other and can’t help but to throw your head back and gasp.

“Does that feel good, angel?” Taehyung asks lowly in your ear as his hot breath fans out across the side of your face.

All you can do is whimper and nod in response. You want to ask him to do it again, to make that tingling in your body happen again, but the thought of asking for such a thing is enough to bring a warmth to your cheeks. What would the other angels think if they saw you in such a compromising position?

The pleading look in your wide eyes is enough to make Taehyung’s dick twitch in his pants. The crowd is pressing in on the two of you from all sides but Taehyung can’t even bring himself to shove them away. All he can focus on is the feel of your body in his hands and the whimpering sound that he wants to hear again and again. He kisses along the side of your neck, varying shades of red appearing soon after and making him smirk at the possessive marks. You’re like putty in his hands and Taehyung knows that it won’t take much more to push you over the edge and get you right where he wants you.

“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private,” he suggests, chuckling when you eagerly agree and allow him to lead you to whatever destination he had in mind. That destination being a private bathroom in the back of the club. The guards didn’t even blink an eye when the two of you walked past, perks of having a binding contract with the club owner.

Your hand wraps around his wrist before pulling him towards you, your lips on his in an instant as he picks you up and places you on the counter of the sink. Taehyung shoves the skirt that you’re wearing up your thighs so that it bunches at your hips, the fabric of your underwear on full display—along with your desire that’s soaking through it.

“Please Taehyung, want you to make me feel good,” you beg in an airy whisper. Your grip on his shoulders tightens when he squeezes at your inner thigh and Taehyung has to squeeze his eyes shut to contain the low growl that he was about to let out.

His cock is leaking in his pants but Taehyung pulls away, running his thumb along your jaw before it catches on your bottom lip that’s jutted out in a pout. “Give me a second, angel, I gotta lock the door,” he says as he turns the lock. “Wouldn’t want anyone walking in on us, right?”

When he turns around, he’s greeted by the sight of your parted legs and hooded eyes, your knuckles turning white from just how hard you’re gripping the edge of the counter. Taehyung’s never been to Heaven but if he had to guess, he would guess it feels a little something like this.

He can’t wait to see your fall from grace.

Taehyung’s lips feel too good on your neck. His hands feel too good on your body. He feels too good. Your head is spinning and your heart is pounding and you feel like you can’t breathe because he’s just so close and every bite and squeeze is just too much. Your hands roam around his body, across his broad shoulders, down his toned torso, and land on his hard cock. Even through his jeans it feels warm and just the thought of touching it is enough to make your mouth water.

There’s a voice in the back of your mind telling you to stop what you’re doing, that this is sacrilege, that you can’t turn back if you don’t stop right now—but you don’t want to stop. You want Taehyung to make you see stars, one’s that even God cannot make but he can. His lips detach from yours and you hear him laugh when you chase after them. You want him to keep kissing you, the feeling that you get from it is unlike anything else.

One of his hands slides down your body and lands on the fabric of your underwear, his fingers beginning to rub circles into your clit and you jerk at the feeling. The tingles in your body are stronger than before and the voice in your head telling you to stop gets louder but it’s drowned out by the loud moan that leaves your lips. When you look up at Taehyung, the positioning of his head in front of the bathroom light makes it look like there’s a halo of light surrounding him. But when your eyes meet his, what you see makes you grow cold.

There’s a devilish smirk on his face and a daunting aura surrounding him but his black eyes trigger your fight-or-flight instinct. The voice that was screaming at you in your head is loud, so loud, and you’re wondering if it was a trick of the light but just like that, his eyes are normal.

Two of Taehyung’s fingers enter you and your back arches, your chest pressing against his as he pumps them in and out of you. His gaze is concentrated on you as your face contorts in pleasure, your legs shaking as he brings you to euphoria. His thumb rubs circles into your clit while his other hand shoves your shirt down so that he can lick at your chest. The amount of stimulation is enough to bring you to the edge very quickly, your breath quickening as you approach your orgasm.

When Taehyung looks back up at you, he knows that his eyes are black again but you don’t even notice because your own are closed in bliss. You’re so cute. Taehyung is glad he decided to go out tonight.

“Where is your God now, pretty angel?” he mumbles against your collar, and if you hear him, you give no indication. He has you now. He can’t wait to watch your pretty wings burn.

“Go ahead and fall for me, love.”

[fangirlshrewt97]

Circle: Yes or YES

Fandom: The Old Guard

Pairing: Joe x Nicky (Yusuf al-Kaysani/Nicolo di Genova)

Read on AO3

                                                        ----

Nicky was sitting at their latest safe house’s dining table writing a grocery list of items they would need for him to prepare a particular dish from the 1500’s Quynh had loved and insisted on having again. It had taken them some time to come back to this particular house, a modest place in bustling Istanbul, a crossroads they had often travelled through in their earlier days. Nicky had taken to writing the recipes for dishes their little family particularly enjoyed around his second century. He had realized both how difficult it was to recall the specifics of making some dishes, and the scarcity of particular ingredients in particular regions.

He was finishing up the last items in his list when he heard the chair opposite to him being pulled out.

“Almost done, habibi?” Joe asked.

Nicky hummed without looking up, bringing the book closer as he tried to decipher his own writing from the remnants of ink from five centuries ago. He scribbled his last two ingredients, cardamom and cloves, on his list.

When he looked up, he blinked at the small piece of paper that was sitting folded in front of him. When he glanced at Joe with a raised eyebrow, all he got was Joe’s ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ innocent look. Honest to god twiddling his thumbs.

Squinting at him, Nicky reached for the paper, bringing it closer. It looked like a normal paper, torn off of one of Joe’s notebooks. Flipping it open, Nicky looked at the contents in disbelief before snorting loudly.

In the center of the sheet, in Joe’s lovely cursive handwriting, were the words:

                                           DO YOU LIKE ME?

                                          CIRCLE: Yes or YES

This man. This ridiculous, 900-year-old man that made Nicky’s heart both melt and race. So full of love and mischief and an infallible ability to make him happy. Nicky clenched his jaw to not break into a smile. He picked up his pen and wrote a tidy NO before folding it and sliding the paper back to Joe.

Joe who had been sitting across from him with a wide-eyed look of anticipation and excitement. Who’s tail would definitely have been wagging if he had one. Who nearly ripped the paper in excitement reaching for it.

Joe who whined and gave Nicky one of the most impressive forlorn looks combined with a big pout that the Genovean man had ever seen.

Nicky put all his willpower into not breaking his facade as he threw him a dead pan look before getting up. He packed his completed list along with his wallets and car keys into a shoulder bag. He checked the kitchen to make sure everything was properly cleaned up before returning to the table. Joe was still there, slouched over the table and pawing at the note.

Shaking his head at his husband’s antics, Nicky sets his bag next to Joe’s head before placing a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Get up Joe.”

Nicky huffed a laugh when Joe shrugged his arm off with a petulant “No”.  

Looping his arm around Joe’s shoulders, he pushed, pulling him up until there was enough space for Nicky to seat himself on Joe’s lap.

Joe’s arms automatically came to wrap around his waist, making Nicky smile. Yet when he leaned in for a kiss, Joe turned his head, pout still in place. Laughing against Joe’s cheek, Nicky placed a soft kiss there before leaning back. “Come on amore, are you still upset?”

Joe turned to look at him, and really, how is it fair a grown man is able to pull off such an adorable long face. “You wrote you didn’t like me.”

Nicky smiled serenely back at him, bringing one hand to cup Joe’s nape while another carded through his curls. “That’s true, I don’t like you.”

Joe whined. “Nicolo.”

Nicky cracked, laughing even as it just made his husband’s frown worsen.

When he was able to bring his laughter into control, he leaned closer, resting his forehead against the side of Joe’s head so he was speaking directly into his ear. “Oh hayati, I do not like you. I adore you. I cherish you. I am breathless in front of you. I am overwhelmed by you. I see you and some days am nearly blinded by how brightly you shine. Some days I am brought to my knees by your beauty, you kindness, and others am overcome with the urge to thank every god and higher power in existence for allowing me to spend so many days at your side. I am charmed and captivated and wholly lost to you. I am yours for as long as my heart beats, because it is in your hands. In the face of all that, how can what I feel for you merely be reduced to liking you? It is such a small word for all that I feel for you. Saying I like you would be doing us both an injustice.”

Nicky lifted his head. He saw tears at the corners of Joe’s eyes, which were looking at him with a profound devotion he was certain was reflected in his own eyes. “Nico.” Joe whispers.

Gently kissing the tears away, Nicky tilted Joe’s head to kiss him properly. To let him know the steadfast love that has endured for 900 years, and will endure for centuries, no, millenia more. Joe held him tightly, a grip that secured him closely to his anchor in this world. They were both panting slightly when they parted, foreheads resting against each other as they breathed together.

“For the record, I feel the same way about you, moon of my life. But.” and here Joe pulled back, looking at him with a shit-eating grin that means Nicky already knows what’s coming. “I also like you too”.

Lightly slapping Joe’s face, Nicky laughed, “You impossible man.”

He untangled himself from Joe’s arms, moving to pick up his bag. When he looked at Joe, the man was still looking at him with an adoring look in his eyes that makes Nicky sigh. “Do you want to come with me to the market to buy the things for dinner?”

Joe’s face split into a wide smile as he jumped up from the chair. He pulled Nicky in to smack a loud kiss to his cheek that had him chuckling, before racing towards their room. “Give me two minutes, I’ll change into actual pants.”

Shaking his head fondly at his husband’s antics, Nicky’s eyes landed on the note again. Tracing the handwriting once, Nicky folded the note again. He grabbed the old recipe book from the table, flicking through the pages until he finds one of Joe’ favorites. Placing the note in between the pages, he closed the book again. It looked like he would have to add a couple extra ingredients to his list after all.

He couldn’t have his love thinking he didn’t like him, now could he?

[of-elves-and-mad-hatters]

“The Azure Sky” - Chapter 7 - Lego Elves

Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace. 

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide. 

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand. 

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm. 

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

___________________

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 

Chapter 4 

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

____________________

Chapter 7

The group stands inside the entrance to the grove of the Crystal Hollows. Emily looks around the forest in awe. As the suns shines on the foilage it seems to shimmer, as if it were all painted metallic. To her left stands Naida and Farran, the latter holding the map unfurled. He clears his voice.

“Not all that glitters so bright is gold

Treasures never touched by human hands

Guarded by earth so rich and old

Barred by walls stronger than Noldor shields.”

Naida turns to Emily, but the human throws up her hands before she can ask. “You think I know what it means? Well, I don’t, and I don’t know why you keep testing me like I should!” Realizing her raised voice, she blushes and shuts her mouth. Farran raises an eyebrow at her outburst. Naida ignores it. 

“Maybe it’s referring to crystal formations or an old precious gem mine? A lot of those abandonned constructions were sealed in by cave-ins,” Aira suggests. 

“But those are spread out all over the hollow,” Farran exclaims, “It’ll take too long to cover that much ground.”

“We could split up,” Emily shyly interjects. 

Naida nods and gives her a soft smile. “We’ll each head out and meet back here in three hours. Azari and Aira will head north, Farran west, and Emily and I will head east.” 

“At least I don’t have to tag along with Buzzkill,” Azari offers, as she turns in her assigned direction. Aira giggles, but admonishes the fire elf to be a little kinder. Farran ignores the remark altogether, map out and mumbling the words of the clue to himself as he disappears into a grove. 

“Ready?” Naida asks. Emily nods a yes, surveying their route with less than enthusiasm. Its not any less friendly-looking than the other directions, but there’s a damp, dreary quality to this glittering wood that makes the hair on her arms stand on end. 

They set off at an easy pace; though the water elf’s stride is long she keeps it slow enough for Emily to keep up. They pass the minutes in silence; each person scanning their surrounding for anything that might look like an old mine or or potential cave entrance. 

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” the human ventures, feeling awkward at breaking the silence, “I didn’t mean to blow-up.”

Naida says nothing for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. “There’s no need to apologize. I never meant to frustrate you to such an extent.” She pauses her search. “I was testing you, trying to see if you are really the descendant of Eimileen.”

“Eimileen?”

“That was the name of the fifth sister.”

“My grandmother’s name was Emily, like mine. Maybe she picked that because it was so similar to her real name.” She pauses, the weight of that sinking in. “Do you believe, like really believe, that she was the fifth sister? That I’m related to her?”

“Unfortunately, yes, I do.”

“Why is that unfortunate? Does it have to do with her being immortal, or used to be immortal?”

“Partially,” Naida responds. She sighs, “It’s a bit more complicated than that though. You see the Creator brought humans from your realm here millenia ago, after he made the elves, and a few other races, and they began to establish themselves. They’ve built civilizations alongside ours, and a few have maintained good relations with some of the elven groups, all far beyond our southern borders. However, the human culture closest to our people - we are known as the Amlugben to other elven ethnicities - has been anything but good towards our kind. They have committed such agrevious atrocites against the cities along our southernmost borders for thousands of years, and as a result, most of the elves from those regions despise humans. And elves this far north have likely never even seen a human before. As you can conclude, when the Great Sisters decided to create a portal to the human’s realm of origin, a considerable swath of the Elvendale lands were in an uproar.”

Emily looks down to her amulet. “Why did the sisters create the portals?”

Naida catches her gaze. “I don’t know,” she breathes, “Nuala will rarely ever speak about the portals, much less discuss the details around how or why.” She straightens her posture a moment, absentmindedly. “Whatever the reason was, I think she regretted it. She’s always trying to live and pretend as if those events never happened.” The water elf sighs, looking around at the ground or the trees or at anything but the human across from her. At the living evidence that history, something distant and detached, could no longer be ignored. 

“We should get back to searching,” Emily says, for the key, for the thing that could send her home, for the thing…

It doesn’t matter what else. The important thing is going home. 

Or maybe not, maybe if she’s honest with herself, because she wants more. She wants to know who her grandmother was, if everything she thought she knew about her was a lie…

She wants to know why she gave her the amulet, and sent her here, and she knows what she wants the answer to be, in a vague, incomplete way. 

She wants to discover, no, to prove, that Eimileen knew what she was doing when she created that portal, and it was the right thing, the good thing, without any reservations. 

[rusty-tetanus-nail]

Never Look Away

Summary: Dean and Cas are forced to redefine their relationship as a decade old secret between them finally comes to light.

Dean jumps up, strangely offended.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve seen my browser history. Your true form doesn’t even make my top 10 weirdest things I’ve jerked off to, so that's a load of bull..."

Notes: This is the result of listening to Never Look Away by Vienna Teng for 10 hours gay.

-------

Careful not to wake him, Dean traces the outlines of Cas’s body illuminated by the reddish hues of the morning sun with his fingers. He can hardly believe it’s only been a year since they defeated God and pulled Cas out of the Empty with the promise of a love returned. 

So much has changed in such little time. With the illusion of free will no longer binding Dean to a greater destiny and with Cas and Dean’s own feelings out in the open he finally allowed himself to want all the things he denied himself for so long, always prioritizing other people’s happiness over his own. Now he has it all. A house, a job, a family, a life, Cas. It was so hard at first, to stop looking for hunts and letting go of Sam so he too could start his own life with Eileen by his side, but in the end Dean had been too tired to fight his own desires any longer and gave in.

Fuck the voice of his father telling him his only purpose in life was to watch out for Sammy and fuck the man John wanted him to be. He helped save this world so he gets to live in it in whatever way he wants to and what he wants is to live his cheesy apple pie life waking up every day next to the man he loves.

Cas stirs in his sleep and Dean watches the translucent wings flutter against the light seemingly drinking up the morning sun. They used to be pitch black back when they first met. A beautiful sight, yet not quite fitting the man Cas would eventually become.

Then they burned and Dean could barely stomach to look at them knowing how much the culmination of all of Dean’s mistakes had hurt Cas so irreparably. And now the wings are whole again and even more awe-inspiring than before. Something about Dean rescuing Cas from the Empty or maybe a blessing from Jack has restored them leaving Dean with the desperate urge to touch the intangible. Watching one of the smaller eyes on Cas’ wings slowly flutter open Dean wonders if it would be rude to ask about the colour change and chuckles. The way the wings shimmer with all the colours of the rainbow is just so wonderfully, blatantly gay.

“What’s so funny?” Cas mumbles half asleep as a couple more eyes flutter open searching for the source of Dean’s amusement.

Dean leans over, one hand caressing Cas’ jaw and kisses him softly good morning.

“I just love you so damn much.” He whispers only inches away from his husband’s mouth and rests his forehead against Cas’.

Cas moves back to study Dean’s face questioningly. The familiar stare is so much more intense now that Dean can take all of Cas in without suffering through the burning sensation that always accompanied laying his eyes on something filled with angelic grace. 

Dean swallows hard. Having all of Cas’ eyes so solely focussed on him and him alone is such a major turn on. He must be doing it on purpose. It’s unfair how such a simple action has so much of an effect on Dean.

“I don’t understand how that’s funny.” Cas says, one eyebrow raised.

“Then come and find out.”

Dean’s mind is already too far gone to care for the conversation and he pulls Cas closer by his shirt desperate to embrace the parts of Cas that he can actually touch. Now fully awake, Cas reciprocates the action enthusiastically pressing their lips together earnestly and climbing on top of Dean to explore his body with his hands and mouth. Not for the first time Dean curses his past self for not allowing himself to be loved by Cas years ago. There’s so much time they have yet to make up for. Luckily they’re both more than willing to try.

Dean’s musings are cut short when Cas’ attentions move downward as Dean’s legs get pushed apart and Cas presses against Dean’s growing erection. 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean groans and sees new galaxies forming inside Cas’ body. Always good to know that Cas enjoys this as much as Dean does.

The prodding stops and Dean lets out an embarrassing whine.

“Not yet.” Cas teases with a grin, all of his eyes’ attention once again on Dean alone. The bastard. Dean has half the mind to hit him upwards with his knee in retaliation, but soon gets distracted by Cas intertwining his hands with Dean’s and leaning down slowly to kiss the sensitive spot on Dean’s neck. He gasps and moves his neck so Cas can take him apart much easier.

In their closeness Cas’ celestial body engulfs Dean in his entirety and he is left again, breathless, by the unfathomable sight of his lover’s true form. Stars and skies in colours not named by men expand and swirl inside the translutient depths of the oceans and galaxies that make up the angels body as the golden halos’ luminescence submerges them both in it’s light. Dean would lose himself in the sight if it weren’t for the thousands of eyes, holding the knowledge of millenia, watching him unblinkingly in a way that is so Cas, so human, that Dean can’t see anything else but his stupid socially awkward self-sacrificing husband.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” Dean blurts out, giving voice to his thoughts.

Cas flinches away as if burned, his true form doing much the same. He wavers back against the bedroom wall as far away as possible from his vessel and curls in on himself. At least Dean assumes that’s what Cas is trying to do. Cas' true form, once taller than any skyscraper, has shrunk significantly with the absence of grace powering him up, but is still far too large to fit completely inside a house let alone a room.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks sitting up.

Cas turns away, his eyes fluttering across the room looking for an escape. Dean gingerly places a hand on Cas’ shoulder and is relieved when he’s not pushed away.

“Hey, Cas, buddy. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I know it’s weird coming from me, but let’s not do this again. No more unnecessary secrets. Please.”

Cas takes Dean’s hand into his and nods. One slow measured breath and he starts talking.

“Dean, I- I know you can’t help seeing me this way, but I dislike it when you comment on my appearance.”

Cas’ vessel is still turned away, but out of the corner of his eyes Dean can see Cas, the real Cas, watching his reaction with interest.

“Well, uh, okay, if it makes you uncomfortable I can stop.” Dean starts awkwardly. “But let me assure you there is absolutely no reason for you to feel insecure about the way you look, you’re-” Dean trails off. You’re mind blowingly gorgeous and sometimes your beauty is so overwhelming that I’m scared I’ll cry if I look too closely.

At Dean's words, Cas finally turns to face him.

“I’m not ‘insecure’, Dean.” Cas bites out emphasizing his irritation with air quotes. “In fact my true form is counted as one of the most attractive among my brethren.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow. No argument there. Cas is by far the prettiest angel he’s ever seen.

“And I am well aware that you find my vessel visually pleasing, but Dean, what you’re complimenting is not me. It’s Jimmy Novak.”

“Uh, Jimmy’s a good looking guy for sure, but the one who’s beautiful is definitely you.”

Instead of being reassured by Dean’s words Cas just sighs resignated.

“It’s kind of you to refer to my inner beauty, but we both know this is not what you meant. You see Jimmy’s face and call it beautiful. I don’t begrudge you for this but don’t like being confused with him.”

Oh Cas definitely has insecurities. How can he even think Jimmy fucking Novak is anywhere near as attractive as Cas himself?

“No, I meant exactly what I said. You, the you you, are fucking hot.”

Cas’ frowns, unhappy with Dean’s reply.

“It’s okay. I understand. It’s hard to keep Jimmy’s body and I seperate. There’s no need for you to backtrack to make me feel better. Let’s just stop arguing about this.”

“Oh no Jon Snow. Not so fast. Let me put this in terms even you and your insecure ass will understand.”

Dean takes Cas’ face into his hands and stares deeply into his eyes. The staring is a habit from back when Cas was still fully juiced up. With the angel grace making it near impossible to look at Cas’ true form without feeling like his eyes were on fire, the vessel's eyes were the only place Dean’s own could safely escape to.

“Your true form is incredibly attractive. Very sexy. Wings and all. If I could hit that, I would. Inner beauty not required.” He speaks slowly as if to a child. Apparently it was the wrong thing to do as Cas slaps Dean’s hands away unable to suppress his irritation any longer.

“Dean, you’ve never seen my true form and I can assure you if you had, its inhuman nature would stop you from ‘hitting that’.”

Dean jumps up, strangely offended.

“Okay, first of all, you’ve seen my browser history. Your true form doesn’t even make my top 10 weirdest things I’ve jerked off to, so that’s a load of bull and second of all…”

Dean grows quiet. What does Cas mean with Dean’s never seen his true form before? Wasn’t the ability to see angels part of being the Michael Sword or something? How could Cas not know? And even if he didn’t, they’ve known each other for over ten years. It must’ve come up at some point. 

Dean rifles through his memories desperate to find the right one, but draws a blank and visibly blanches. 

Cas had no reason to believe Dean could see him. Back when they first met, Cas made some assumptions and Dean didn’t correct him, not trusting the self proclaimed angel an inch. And then it’s always been the vessel Dean’s been talking to, never the one puppeteering it. At first out simple necessity, then out of pure habit. 

Determined to rectify their decade old misunderstanding Dean makes his way through the bedroom and sits down right in front of what Dean assumes must be the angel equivalent of Cas’ face or maybe his hand. Either way the body part has enough eyes to have an honest conversation with and has been observing Dean and the vessel talk this whole time. 

This is Cas. The real Cas. And it’s high time for Dean to stop averting his eyes.

Cas squirms under his stare.

“Dean, childishly staring at an empty wall won’t solve this.” Cas argues from behind Dean and Dean has to suppress the urge to turn around. The voice might be coming from the vessel, but the one talking is the angel in front of him.

“That’s not what I’m doing.” Dean says, looking directly into one of Cas’ bigger eyes. Cas freezes momentarily at the direct eye contact and then his eyes swirl around frantically trying to find whatever it is that Dean’s looking at. Dean's stomach tightens. It hasn’t been fair to make Cas feel as if he’s invisible just because it’s easier for his stupid human brain to talk to the vessel.

Dean reaches out attempting to touch the nervously fluttering wing next to him, but as expected his hand moves right through it. He smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry, Cas. It seems there’s something I’ve neglected to tell you. I thought you knew, but that’s not an excuse.” Dean pauses. “I’ve always been able to see you.”

There’s a storm brewing inside Cas, a tension. One wrong move and a star could explode setting off a supernova that is held at bay by nothing but a shimmering skin made of light and colours. His husband is nervous at the possibility of being seen, Dean realises and has no choice but to confirm Cas’ worry.

“When you were still full of grace I couldn’t look directly at you without fearing for my eyes, so I got used to looking at your vessel instead, but I’ve always known and seen the real you.”

Ever since Dean could remember gigantic and intangible creatures taller than skyscrapers with wings that could pierce the heavens have been watching him from a distance, their countless eyes following his every move. Scary, yet unimaginably beautiful. As a child Dean would try to describe them and ask what they were, but apart from his mom there was never anyone trying to hear him out.

“Children and their imagination.” Adults would say and ruffle his hair whenever he tried to ask about them and by the time he was four he realised that he’s the only one who could see them.

Then his mom died and all his questions and curiosity were left behind in the ruins of their broken home. Dean learned quickly that John had no use for children and their imaginary friends. He needed to grow up and become a soldier for his family’s sake. So he followed the orders, and pretended not to see these watchers following him around.

Later, when Dean was a teen and John was gone most of the time, Sam often dragged him to libraries and Dean would do his own research on the creatures in secret, too scared to ask anyone for help. John made it pretty clear he didn’t want Dean talking about them and Dean feared that if he told someone and didn’t have proof of their existence Dean would be sent off to a mental ward for seeing things that were simply not there. In the end it took dying and coming back to life to find his answers.

Despite having seen these creatures all of his life, when they summoned the one named Castiel, Dean needed a moment to figure out what he was seeing. He’s never been this close to any of them and the proximity was overwhelming. Dean was suddenly acutely aware just how Pamela's eyes could've been burned out so easily by the creature's visage.

In an attempt not to suffer the same fate as her, Dean averted his eyes and spotted a man entering the barn, his body connected with small tendrils to the large creature around him. A puppet, Dean thought, one he could touch and subsequently kill, so without another moment's hesitation Dean took the first shot. And then the second, a third. Neither the puppet nor the creature were faced by his attempts to fight, merely curious. As if Dean was nothing more but an ant trying to fight a giant.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” The puppet finally said, inhuman in everything but his appearance and so Dean stabbed him as a thanks for the introduction. Next thing he knew, Bobby was down and the guy began claiming to be an angel.

“There’s no such thing.” Dean said, but the voice of his mother telling him that angels were watching over him thought differently.

The man’s body straightened and the creature, Castiel, stood up, his form ending far beyond the barn’s roof and he spread his wings. Bolts of lighting exploded into an array of mesmerizing fireworks and Dean was left breathless before the angel. His terrifying beauty nesting deep inside Dean’s heart and he knew he was lost.

“No, you must be lying.” Cas says as his body trembles under Dean’s stare.

“I’m not.” Dean replies, leaving no room for debate and moves closer to Cas, who seems to be trying to escape through the bedroom wall. “So believe me when I say that you’re fucking beautiful and only thinking about you watching me with your many many eyes is enough to make me hard.”

Cas sputters incoherently and his body changes colours rapidly, eventually settling on a pinkish sort of hue. Oh. That’s new. Dean grins.

“Cas, Huggybear, are you blushing?” Dean teases, taking immense amusement in this new discovery. Cas swirls him around in an attempt to make Dean look at his vessel again, but with a true form as big as Cas’ it’s not hard to find a new part of Cas’ body to focus his attention on.

“No.” Cas growls defensively. “Stop looking.”

“Make me.” The reply is a bit cliché but Dean isn’t trying to win an Oscar. He’d much rather film a porn instead.

In the blink of an eye Dean is encased possessively in Cas’s wings and pushed onto the bed with urgency. Fuck yes.

[themanip]

alternate routes

SYNOPSIS — how do you go throughout life? well, you find someone you like. get to know them. start dating. break up a few times, get back together. get married. have some kids. die old. typical. fucking in a back room of an awards show, not once, but twice as complete strangers, was definitely not how most relationships start out.

PAIRING — taehyung x metzi (oc) WARNINGS — descriptions of cheating, fliphones, mentions of getting laid, really bad intros tbh, the introvert line being introverts, and girls who are rlly bad at timing, an asshole named ryan, cursing WORD COUNT — just over 3.1k AUTHOR’S NOTE — hi! i am so fucking bad at writing the first chapter or two, i promise if you can bear the beginning of this story, it gets better. i have two and a half chapters written so far but i am writing super often! once a few more chapters get published i will create a masterlist. please enjoy and if you have any comments or recs don’t hesitate to let me know!! :)))

𝟏: 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐄 

𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟖 ⇥ The universe known to man is a labyrinth—an irregular maze, a passage that cannot be routed—and to understand that took more than an average mind. The matter was far too complicated than any obsolete man to comprehend on a whim. Millenia passed before galaxies were formed, planets were created, all unbeknownst to the stars bursting just miles apart.

From early amphibians, to the ice age, to cavemen, evolution has made great strides in every species. Humans in the past were variants called homosapiens, and most likely came from chimpanzees. Great strides like this were something to be proud of, you'd think.

When Metzi Ludovic realized that birds can fly with natural evolution, while humans had to industrialize it (thanks to the Wright brothers) she was pretty distraught. As an imaginative and critical eight-year old, fifteen years later, not much had changed. Currently, she was pondering over the fact that humans are one of the few species with opposable thumbs.

Majority of animals had not yet evolutionized to create opposable thumbs. While frantic over this, she also imagined her beautiful Pomeranian, with thumbs popping out of his paws. Her thoughts were quickly subdued, thanks to her coherent thoughts making an appearance. As cool as it would be, all other animals would devour humans if they gained that ability.

Is that the only reason humans are all mighty? They can industrialize and aim properly due to their adaptations, so that they somehow became top of the food chain?

Thankfully, she was redacted from her thoughts as her manager, Emmy, let out a distressed sigh. "Wren, we cannot change your outfit again. You look beautiful," At this point, looking at Wren, she knew that she would look good. Somehow, she couldn't convince herself.

"Wren, we can switch. I don't hate green, so you can take blue if you want it. I really don't mind," Metzi smiled softly, and she knew it was the right thing to offer as Wren's face lit up, a few tears being wiped away. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just do me a favor and loosen the ties on that, please. I have had way too many tacos yesterday to fit into it with the strings that tight," a small laugh left her mouth, and as she laid on the comfortable sofa. It was plush, but somehow offered no lumbar support. Who the hell makes a couch so soft, yet so unbearable for convenience of naps?

Selfish, she thought.

This dressing room was beautiful, so you'd think they'd have enough funds to make a decent couch. She could enjoy the aesthetics of the room, anyways. A luxurious baby pink covered the walls, and was bordered by pristine white. Plush gray carpet was under her feet, and was stain free. With Malorie in here, that probably wouldn't last long.

She was over by the double mirrors, applying powder over her face. She was so beautiful, Metzi couldn't fathom why she insisted on so much makeup. The same could be said about herself, so she kept her somewhat inner misogynistic comments at bay. She was pretty quiet, but something was off. She wasn't usually this quiet, so Metzi shot her a text.

She was very personal, and barely talked about what bothered her. Occasionally, Metzi would get her to open up, which she could physically see the relief on her face as she broke down. A brief, but to the point was written out on Metzi's phone.

you don't seem okay. wanna talk about it? Read 2:33 PM

The three dots popped up, and Metzi's attention was quickly brought to Vida, who sat down next to her, letting out a sigh. "How much longer until Olive gets here? I'm so close to taking a nap," Vida quickly put her hair into a makeshift ponytail, and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"It's only two, so I imagine not for a good hour or so, a nap sounds kind of nice," Wren commented, stood in the other corner of the room, with Emmy helped her undo the straps of her outfit. Her green silk top complimented her skin perfectly, but Metzi knew it was too late to convince her.

"Well, I'm out, wake me up when she gets here," Vida quickly blurts, and her head is now comfortably laying on the arm of the sofa. "I'll get up, I have to go to the bathroom anyways," Metzi commented, sighing before getting up.

Silence followed, and the blonde decided to take a look at her phone. A text was sent back on Malorie's behalf, and she widened her eyes momentarily. Standing still, she turned back to look at her. A face of guilt was evident, and she tried her best to hold her breath.

i have something to tell you, i'm not supposed to. i just feel so bad knowing while you don't i really shouldn't have said anything forget it

meet me in the bathroom

Read 2:37PM

Metzi's mind was in a whirlwind, and she couldn't think of anything she'd be referring to. Of course, it was useless, because clearly she wasn't meant to know about it. She hurried out of the room, the last thing she heard was Wren complaining once more about her outfit.

The hallways were empty, mostly because they'd came so early, and Metzi took her time reaching the bathroom. It was communal, so she really hoped that nobody else was here yet. The awards were meant to start in a few hours, and considering they had three faces to paint with makeup, early was a necessity.

"I hope you won't be mad at me," A small, timid voice aired behind her. The blonde turned around, and clutched her phone in fear. "I'm not, please tell me what's going on,"

As Malorie opened her phone, Metzi tapped her foot anxiously.

God, she really had to piss.

The brunette looked up at her, and showed her a photo.

"What is that?"

"That, was Ryan. On Saturday."

Ryan was her boyfriend of six years. An anxious cramping formed in her stomach at the mixture of his name and the tone of Malorie's voice. The photo she was now staring at made her want to vomit. Her stomach was now doing somersaults.

In the photo, it was indeed Ryan, in Metzi's own bed, with a mop of curly red hair under him. Most was covered by the sheets, but it was enough to come to the correct conclusion. He was clearly enjoying it too, judging by his face. Upon further inspection, she noticed something odd.

Grabbing the phone out of Malorie's hand, she zoomed in. On her nightstand, where a picture of the two usually sat, was now face down. While he fucked another woman in her bed, he turned her face down.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she took a deep breath in.

What happened Saturday? She was home mostly all day, so when did he have time to do this?

"What—how did you get this?"

"I came to give you your present, and I heard something. Y'know since you gave me keys? I figured it was okay to come in, and your bedroom door was open. I knew Ryan would try to make me the liar, so I took a picture. He told me that if I told you," Malorie pursed her lips, "well he threatened to do something pretty fucked up."

"Holy fuck," Metzi whispered, "I just—I had no fucking clue. This entire time, and who knows how long he's been fucking her?"

One lonesome tear fell down her cheek. In anger or sadness, Malorie didn't know.

Opening her phone, she opened Ryan's contact. "Hey," Malorie whispered, her voice now soft. "If he tells you anything about me, promise you won't believe him?"

"Of course, you come first. Always."

She debated on whether or not to call him, but instead opted on a text.

I hope you enjoyed fucking merida, we're done. get your things out of my house by tomorrow. delete my number.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and a smile adorned her face. Her bladder problems now the least of her concerns, she started back for the dressing room. Emmy now sat at the vanity, on her phone, and Vida and Wren were basically cuddling.

Surprised at the sudden intrustion, all eyes landed on the pair standing in the doorway.

"Ryan cheated on me, so now we're all single." Metzi gave nobody the chance to respond, as if anyone could think of what to say, and took a deep breath in.

"I haven't been fucked in months, and now I know why. So, I'm gonna get laid tonight, feel free to join me."

All seven of them had their faces beat to perfection, their outfits tailored and steamed of any wrinkles. They looked absolutely impeccable, as if the world around them kissed their feet. Hell, some reporters actually acted like that.

The members of BTS were now known worldwide, and it seemed that they were sought after by nearly everyone. Each member was so unique—so captivating in every aspect. Personalities somehow intertwine perfectly, yet polar opposites sometimes.

Proud but humble men, they basked in the warmth of positive attention. All eyes were on them for now, and they proudly understood it. As they walked on the red carpet of the music event, Yoongi and Jungkook both hated what they would be forced to do in mere minutes. As self-declared introverts, social interactions were about to start, and they honestly would rather sit in the corner and get this over with.

They would meet a few smaller artists, an occasional household name, (which they would fawn over for the rest of the night) and then be on their way. It would probably be in a few news articles, and some artists would insist on pictures, and they would be spread around within minutes. It was the same routine, and almost every time they would speak as little as possible, save for Namjoon, and would discuss it later. Hollywood was English dominated, and they despised it.

"Right now we only have to meet one group, and then we're okay for a few hours," Namjoon spoke quietly and quickly, and they piled off of the red carpet into a building. The hallways were scary, dark and empty, but a light above them quickly lit up.

To their surprise, the hallway was beautiful. The walls were an navy blue, white accents on top and bottom. Numerous gold paintings and records lined the walls, and it seemed to go on forever.

"Who is it we're supposed to be meeting? This hallway is a bit sketchy," Jimin perked up, and Namjoon chuckled. "WB,"

"Who is that?"

"I can't remember what their name stands for, but they sing that one song," Namjoon goes on to hum the tune to a familiar song that got pretty big, and all of the members start singing along. Of course, the lyrics are completely off and the tune is absolutely horrid, but they all recognize it vaguely.  

All numbly following Namjoon, he was taking rough instructions from their manager to get there. This was not how it usually happened, but he had said something urgent came up. He had told Namjoon how to get there, and he knew that they were smart enough to make it without breaking a couple ligaments.

"Group? I thought it was one singer," Jin commented, and Taehyung nodded in agreement. "I would have never thought it was more than one. Are they American?"

"I guess we're going to find out," he snickered, and they all stopped at the corner. The door was slightly creaked open, and soft laughter could be heard. It was feminine, soft. It sounded like pure happiness was inside that door.

To double check, Namjoon eyed the sign on the door.

A large, black WB was written so even the partially blind could read. It was odd, the only dressing room out of probably at least a hundred, was all the way back, alone. They had no time to question it before Jin took a few strides forward, and boasted his English abilites.

"Come on-uh, guys."

The rest of them burst into laughter, and Namjoon quickly followed suit, knowing Jin would not be the prime candidate for introductions. He would simply utter a few English words, turn to Namjoon for help, and in panic, make a really bad play on words in Korean.

Timidly, Namjoon's knuckles rapped on the already-open door, accidentally pushing it further open a bit. "Come in!"

They were met with three girls stuffing their faces with chocolate cake, and another laying on the floor, fiddling with a.. flip-phone?

Jin grimaced at the reminder, glad it wasn't pink.

All eyes awkwardly met at the realization, and two of the three muffling down cake choked a bit. "Emmy, I thought you said 5:30?" Malorie was the one to ask, but none of the boys knew that.

"It is 5:30,"

The cake was swallowed within seconds, the flip-phone was now laying on the table, untouched. Four girls scrambled up simultaneously, and watched as the rest of the men piled in. An awkward stout of silence followed, and this so called Emmy, rose and met the boys first.

She had a firm grip, and introduced herself as their manager. The situation was humorous to say the least, these girls who could pass off as teenagers, were standing in single file in shame. The first was a beautiful girl with a large afro, and she kept a tight smile. She did not know who they were, nor did she really care. She introduced herself as Wren.

Next, was a taller woman, who seemed a hint older, with large winged eyeliner. She was Vida. Jin's first instinct was that she reminded him of him, she was definitely the oldest. Then, a smaller girl with a thick smile and soft curls was next. Soft hands, gentle grip. Her name was Malorie.

The last, was a young woman with blonde hair. Realistically, she didn't have any defining features besides her hair, she was the average American-looking girl. She introduced herself as Metzi, and to their surprise, bowed.

"It's really nice to meet you guys," Emmy let out a soft chuckle, and Namjoon nodded tightly. "Are you performing tonight?" It was Malorie who had asked, a soft question. "Yes, actually,"

"I heard you are as well," Namjoon replied, hoping to end the small talk quickly. "Yes we are! I'm surprised you've heard of us, I mean we're not huge."

She wasn't lying, but they definitely weren't small, either. Sixth biggest girlgroup of all time by album sales just behind TLC. Thirtieth on the most followed Spotify artist. Their debut album was certified Gold in six countries. Humble was the key to success, though.

"I'm not sure how big they are in the States, but aren't they pretty well known in Korea?" Yoongi spoke, but of course he wasn't talking to the girls, he was talking to his bandmates. He also spoke in Korean, which is why he nearly had a heart attack when a very feminine voice responded in Korean as well.

"We're big in Korea? I knew we were pretty well known in Japan, but I never really knew about that," It was the blonde one, Metzi. All seven members were in shock, the way she spoke it so effortlessly. If she didn't look the way she did, she could pass off as Native Korean by language alone.

"I know South Korea is very conservative and insistent upon how they operate things, and we're probably the farthest thing from it. I just was under the impression that we didn't fit the mold to do well there," Metzi continued talking, and Wren, Vida and Malorie had absolutely no clue what was going on or being discussed.

Had this been in Spanish, all the girls could have participated. Metzi just insisted on learning Korean, though.

They didn't seem too bothered, though, instead more humored.

"She's been waiting to use that one, huh?" Vida whispered, laughing lightly. "You're not wrong, Korea is known to be very conservative, however, that doesn't mean you have to fit stereotypes to break Korea or any other Asian country for that matter," Namjoon spoke in English this time, and finally the other three girls got a whiff of the conversation.

"We are the farthest thing from ideal boy-groups in America, and we broke it for the most part. Obviously a lot of it is due to our fan base, but point still stands." Seokjin broke in, the conversation now half Korean, half English.

"Good to know," Metzi said softly, a grin on her face.

"How did you learn Korean?" Taehyung spoke up in curiousity, and crinkled his eyes. "I started learning a few years ago before we kind of blew up, and when we visited Korea a few times, I just picked it up a bit. Still a lot I don't know, but I can speak pretty fluently now."

Taehyung nodded in understanding, silently applauding her ability to simply pick up on a language. He doesn't think he will ever gain fluency in English, no matter how hard he'd try. It was a lot harder than he imagined it to be.

"I'm gonna be honest, from media portrayals you guys are made out to be asshats, but you seem pretty down to Earth. Nice to know the fame doesn't get to your head, you know?"

Now it was Wren speaking, and a few snickers sounded from Jungkook and Jimin's mouth. "Asshat," Jimin repeated softly, and they broke into more laughter.

"We appreciate that, thank you. Ignore them," Hoseok spoke this time, a large smile adorning his face. "We will watch your performance tonight, and cheer you on."

"Ditto," Metzi responded in English this time, and Hobi's eyes crinkled in confusion. "Same to you," she clarified in Korean, and he nodded.

They said their goodbyes, and Metzi told all the girls to bow. Namjoon and Vida had a brief talk, and it was no time before BTS and WB were now separate, discussing the events that had just taken place.

The talk of the night was the mysterious blonde girl who spoke fluent Korean. 

taglist: @princessoftheroad​ <3

[skybiome]

And when the sun comes up, you’ll find a brand new god.

Chapter 5

Beginning | Previous | Next

ao3

tw: none

Techno and Phil worked together over the next few days to clean and preserve all of the venison. Phil seemed to have more experience with this, so Techno followed his lead. Techno was cutting the remaining meat from the bones and while Phil started a fire in their impromptu smoking pit. The skin has all been removed in the days prior.

Between just the two of them, a fair amount of the meat would go to waste, so they had to work quickly to preserve it. Inside, the hearth was burning low and drying thin cut pieces into jerky.  

The temperature outside had been dropping over the days since their hunt. Phil had given Techno a winter coat from somewhere. Lined with some sort of soft animal fur, Techno barely noticed the cold.

Techno walked over to where his companion was poking at the smoking wood chips.

“Phil.”

“Hm?” The winged god looked up at him.

Techno fisted his hands in the pockets of the coat to keep himself from fidgeting. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Phil’s eyes widened in mild surprise. “Oh, alright then.” He didn’t sound upset. “We’ll finish this today then, and we can make you a good meal tonight before you hit the road.”

Techno nodded and walked away without another word. The anxious energy under his skin didn’t settle Phil’s acknowledgement. The feeling of being tethering to something was insurmountably foreign. He couldn't wait to get away from Phil, but at the same time, he would miss the man deeply. It had been millenia since Techno had let himself get this close to someone.

Better to drain the wound now than let it sit and fester.

But that would be an issue for tomorrow Techno.

He got to work harvesting the garden they’d planted a few days ago, washing the dirt off the produce in the stone-bottomed brook. Once the meat was settled to preserve both inside and out of the inn, Phil disappeared to somewhere. Techno assumed he’d be back before long.

So he did that hard work first, using a shovel Phil had provided to dig up the root vegetables out of the cold ground. He also gathered other fruits and vegetables from the trellises. Once that was done, he picked them up and set them on one of the tables inside the inn.

And then he didn’t know what to do.

Techno had never had free time. He was always preoccupied with keeping on the move or hunting down the next monster he’d taken a bounty on. Even here, Phil normally had a task for him to do. Whenever all the chores for the day were over, it was already night time. Not knowing what else to do, Techno started running laps around the inn, falling into the steady rhythm of the motions.

After a few laps he expanded his loop to include the other buildings surrounding the central well. And then to just running around all of the structures in the village. Never once did he see another person or even any lights on. Just perfectly tended gardens, even in the almost freezing weather.  

Eventually, the monster hunter slowed down and approached one of the still houses. He knocked on the back door. No response. He tried the handle, and Techno was a little surprised when it opened with no resistance.

Inside sat a picturesque little home. Well made cupboards and countertops were spotless. An unlit tallow candle sat in the middle of a table. Techno took a closer look, and saw that the wick was pristine. It had never been lit. The table surface was unmarred, not showing any signs of being used as a board for cutting food or even any marks of a child playing with their first dagger.

Techno left, and checked the next house. And the next. And the next.

Every house was empty. Each one had a slightly different layout, but it was always unmarked countertops and empty cupboards. He doubted that these houses had ever been lived in. They were just part of the setting of the fictional town Phil had created.

He stopped checking the houses and went back to running circles around the empty village, leaving him along with his thoughts.

Phil didn’t seem malicious. Over the two weeks he’d known the deity, he’d never shown any ill intent. The outburst during the hunt was the first time he’d heard Phil even raise his voice. The god wasn’t gaining anything from spending time with Techno, but he also wasn’t trying to get anything out of the interaction. The cursed man couldn’t figure out what the god’s game was.

He was pulled out of his own head by the sound of Phil yelling his name. Cutting through the dirt paths, Techno made a bee-line towards the inn. Phil was standing outside the building, hands cupped around his mouth trying to project his voice. His wings were fluffed up and slightly spread slightly, like he was anxious and ready to take off at a moment’s notice. His voice was laced with worry.

Once he saw the monster hunter approaching, his wings laid flat and folded nearly behind his back. The line of tension eased out of his shoulders and the slightly frantic expression eased from his face.

“There you are.”

The ‘where’d you go?’ was left unspoken.

Techno nodded, and put his hands in the pockets of his new coat. “You left and I got bored, so I went on a run.” Techno one hand out and made a circular motion in the air, gesturing at the town around them. “Just around the outside of the village.”

Phil nodded, “Alright, I was worried that you had left.”

Techno shrugged. “I don’t know if I can leave, Wilbur may be keeping me here.”

The winged man stiffened slightly at the wandering implication of Techno’s words. He tried to brush it off, and replied, “I don’t think so, I’m fairly certain you can leave whenever you want.”

So he could leave right now if he wanted to. Phil would protest, but he wouldn’t be able to stop the monster hunter. Techno filed that away for later. Then he walked past Phil and turned the handle of the inn door. Holding the entrance open, he looked back at his friend, and asked, “You coming?”

When Phil didn’t spring into action, he added, “I don’t know how to cook, so I hope you do.”

With that, Techno turned away from Phil and walked farther into the building, leaving the door open behind him. A smile stumbled onto the god’s face. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, accepting Techno’s unspoken ask for help.

---

In the monster hunter’s humble opinion, Phil was a pretty good cook. The finished jerky and smoked meat was stored in cloth bags that Phil had pulled from somewhere, and the rest of the deer was slowly being cooked over the lower fire. Techno had been eating well for the last few weeks and he couldn’t wait to dig in when it was ready.

The cursed man had been put in charge with the rest of the meal preparation (with Phil helping if he needed it). Several spuds were slowly cooking in a pan off to the side of the stone hearth along with several herbs Phil had thrown in.

A few other additions that wouldn’t take as long to cook rested on the countertop. Some apples and nuts to be roasted, and mixed vegetables that could be cooked in oil. A loaf of bread was rising on the other side of the warm kitchen.

It was more food than Techno had seen in a long time, and definitely more than he and Phil could eat before it goes bad.

“What are we going to do with all this?” The man motioned to consumables strewn about the room.

“Hm?” Phil looked up from the book he was reading. He tilted his head to the side, asking for Techno to elaborate.

“There’s no way we can eat this all before it goes bad.”

The winged man nodded, and closed his book so he could fully focus on his companion, keeping one finger in the page he was on. “I invited some friends to help finish off the food. That’s where I was earlier” Techno opened his mouth to say something, but Phil kept talking. “They’re coming over later tonight, after you’d normally be asleep, so you don’t have to interact with them if you don’t want to.”

Techno nodded. He didn’t quite know how to feel about Phil picking up on his social anxiety that easily, but the gesture was kind enough.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. It was the first day since Techno had arrived that he wasn’t doing anything from dawn to dusk. It didn’t seem like Phil was speeding up the day too much. Techno could actually track the motion of the sun via the sparse rays coming through the canopy and windows. It was nice.

He’d been reading a book the winged god had given him out in the main room. The god in question had pulled him back into the kitchen with the setting of the sun. Together, they finished preparing the rest of the food and assembled a feast in the main room of the inn.

All of the food he’d eaten over the past few weeks had been amazing. This was the best so far. He didn’t manage to eat much, appetite soured by the fact that he’d promised himself he would leave tomorrow.

About the time he started to slow down, Phil glanced towards the door of the inn, and announced, “Our guests will probably be here soon. They’re kinda loud, so you can go to your room if you want. I’ll make sure they leave you alone.”

Techno nodded and slid off of the stool, taking it as Phil’s polite way of telling him to scram. He took the book Phil’d given with him, though. And true to his friend’s word, around ten minutes later, several voices entered the inn. Through the walls, Techno couldn’t parse them well enough to tell how many people there were. At least six, mostly likely more. One of them sounded like Wilbur.

Yeah, Techno wasn’t going back out there. Accepting his fate for the night, the monster hunter stripped off his outer layer of clothes and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes and let sleep easily take him.

Half an hour later, he threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. He couldn’t sleep and Techno had no idea why. The people in the inn weren’t being too loud. He could barely hear them despite the thin walls of the inn. Phil’s laughter made it into his room occasionally, and Techno felt something in his gut curl every time he heard it.  He wasn’t looking forward to having to leave in the morning.

A thought lanced through the monster hunter’s head. He didn’t have to leave in the morning. There was a window in his room. Techno could leave right now, without having to face Phil. Before he knew it, his heavy coat was back on, and his window was open.

The cold wind stole the man’s breath, making Techno take pause. But only for a moment.

He hefted himself up and out of the window sill. He didn’t want to look Phil in the eyes before leaving, so clearly the solution was to avoid Phil altogether.

Frozen grass crunched under his boots. Techno hadn’t noticed that it was snowing, but a thin layer of white coated the ground. Blades of grass and leaves were poking up through the powder.

He walked around the exterior of the building until he was standing in front of the inn. Through the windows, Techno could see about a dozen people socializing. The inn looked alive for the very first time.

Turning on his heel, Techno marched away from the illuminated structure. He'd seen a road leading out of town while running earlier. That's probably the road he's supposed was supposed to go. The monster hunter took a few steps past the wall in the direction of the road out of town. Then he reversed his path and went down the dirt path that had first brought him into town.

It was well into the night when he arrived back at the statue that had first greeted him. Techno's eyes pick up the details of the sculpture with no problems, even in the low light. There was no mistaking it. The facial features of the statue may be missing, but it still was the exact height and build as the man he'd been living with for the last three weeks.

Techno ran his hand over the bottom of the statue, clearing the snow and knowing that a plaque was hidden underneath. He pulled his hand away, and felt something stutter in his chest.

The words were different.

PHILZA, GOD OF SURVIVAL AND SOLITUDE PATRON OF THE ENDANGERED AND LONESOME PROTECTOR OF HIS FAMILY AND THE ONES HE LOVES

Something sad curled in his chest at the confirmation that Phil was really a god. It almost felt like a betrayal, enough though he knew it was coming.

Techno lowered himself onto the snowy ground. He closed his eyes. His fingers dug into his pants as the snow melted and the cold water bit into his legs. Eventually the chill made its way through his heavy coat.

Techno only opened his eyes when he could see light through the closed lids. Sunlight danced across the icy ground, shooting daggers into the cursed man’s eyes. He stumbled to his feet, shaking the gathered snow from his hood and shoulders. A good few inches, too.

The statue and it's broken pieces were also dusted with snow. No more grass was poking up through drifts. Techno turned around to look at the trail that had brought him here. The footpath was buried under the snow. For a moment, he didn’t know how he was going to find his way back to the village.

Something moved into Techno’s line of sight, and it took him a moment to register what it was. The white wolf blended into the powder almost perfectly. It blinked at Techno, then turned and trotted away. The cursed man followed.

The canine kept a steady pace in front of Techno. Occasionally, its fur camouflages it perfectly, and it would disappear from Techno’s sight. He was, eventually, less following the wolf, and more following the footprints it left behind.

After a while, the wolf stopped and sat down, pointing its nose at something. Techno shook his head and let his eyes refocus. The wolf glanced at him. When Techno met its eyes, it turned its attention back to the building in front of them.

A sign over the door, proudly read  The Core Inn . Unlike every other time Techno had seen the building, not a single light was on inside. He turned away to look at the other buildings. Besides Techno and the wolf’s foot prints, the snow cover was pristine. Taking a moment to realign his internal compass, he headed towards the road that led out of town.

Three steps into the journey, a weight pressed against his side. Techno stumbled at the pressure, but caught himself, realizing that the wolf that had been leading him, was now walking alongside him. Hesitantly, he set his hand on the animal’s head.

The wolf pushed against Techno’s hand, and pressed harder into the man’s side. Techno took that as permission and shoved his hand through the wolf’s fur and into the warm undercoat. He may be impervious to frostbite, but cold was still cold.

He started walking again, carding his hand through the canine’s fur. It was nice to have something else grounding him in the blank surroundings. In the real world, Techno would normally have bird song or even just the wind in the trees to fill his ears. Over the weeks, Phil had become the background noise, either with his voice or the motion of his clothes.

The snow crunched softly under foot as they traveled. The massive trees thinned from towering conifers to rolling woods of deciduous. What immediately caught Techno’s attention was that the wind was back. Birds and animal tracks were numerous, criss-crossing the snowy landscape. When they stumbled upon a crossroads, Techno took note of the messy wagon tracks in the resting snow.

Compared to the premade tracks that had covered the ground in the village, these looked incredibly natural. A sign post sat across the road. Techno approached and read it, wolf still glued to his side. A place named Aria was to the left, and Mount Lacerta was to the right. It didn’t mention the path he’d arrived from.

Techno turned around. His footsteps and any indication that he’d followed a premade path to his current location was gone. He turned back around, and the sign post had vanished as well.

“Huh,” Techno said. He turned to look at his furry companion. “Where do you think we should go?”

The wolf blinked, and started walking towards the left. Techno followed. After a few steps, the canine stopped and looked back at the man. He stopped as well, waiting for the wolf to continue leading. The animal looked back at Techno and whined.

When Techno didn’t move, the wolf turned around. It walked until it was once again glued to his side. Pushing against the monster hunter’s leg, the canine took a step. It looked up at Techno, and took another step forward.

Techno got the message. They walked alongside each other for hours, basking in the cold beauty.

Eventually, the wolf’s steps stuttered for a moment. Then it took off like a shot.

The cursed man watched it’s white coat shrink into the distance, content that it was leaving him. To Techno’s surprise, the wolf stopped about thirty feet away. The canine spun in a circle in the snow. Then it planted its rear end in the snow and let out a piercing howl.

The cry scared birds out of the surrounding trees. The wolf lowered its head, and although it was too far away to hear the panting, Techno could see its tongue lolling out of its mouth.

Something bubbled in his throat. He was surprised when a barking laugh escaped. His chest felt warm despite the cold. Another laugh emitted from Techno as he sprinted after the animal. The wolf let out another howl, turned, and ran from the man, egging him to chase.

Techno did so willingly. He almost couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this elated. Snow clung to his feet, but the monster hunter didn’t notice. Instead, he looked up to the cloud coated sky and let loose his own howl. The wolf up ahead returned the call.

Back and forth, the two echoed as they ran. Sometimes it was a whoop or holler from Techno, and a bark or yip from the canine. As they ran, the energy they carried only grew, until they were both high on euphoria.

Before he knew it, the snow was gone from around Techno’s feet. The wolf led him down the hard packed dirt road for hours at a sprint. It was nearly sun down when the animal broke from the path. It veered into the trees to the left of the road. Techno followed with zero hesitation.

A small campsite was set up just out of sight of the road. Techno came to a halt by the edge. It was a tent with a small circle of stones set up next to it. The wolf was looking around, tapping its feet and whining slightly.

A stick snapped in the trees. Both Techno and the wolf’s heads snapped towards the sound. In an instant, the canine had dove through the bush between them and the source of the noise.

The cursed man heard the sound of someone yelling in surprise and being knocked to the ground. Techno pushed through the brush to follow. He found the wolf practically laying on top of someone, licking at his face. His green and white bucket hat had been knocked to the floor and large black wings moved in the dirt and plant cover as Philza tried to shove the canine off his chest.

The god managed to roll onto his side, pushing the animal off him. Sitting upright, he ran his hands through its thick coat, cooing and praising it.

“Gods, you’re such a good boy.” Philza said through laughter. “Thank you for leading him here.”

The wolf licked his face one more time before settling its head on the god’s lap.

Turning his attention to Techno, Philza smiled, and explained, “I sent him to come get you.” He ran his head between the ears on the wolf. “It’s hard to navigate in the snow, and I didn’t want you to get lost.”

He chucked. “I know you’d be okay, but it was just for my own peace of mind.”

Techno swallowed dryly. He couldn’t think of anything, so he just nodded.

Philza stood up, pushing the animal off his lap, and brushed off the front of his robe. He was covered in bits of dead leaves and small sticks were on the ground around him. The god leaned over, picked back up the pieces of tinder he’d dropped.

With his arms full of dry material, the winged deity turned to Techno. He jerked his head towards the campsite, motioning for the cursed man to come with him. They maneuvered back through the hedge. The wolf seemed elated, dancing around their legs and nearly tripping them several times. Philza chuckled at its antics. He set his gatherings down beside the unlit fire pit.

The god lowered himself onto the hard ground with a sigh, wings half unfurled behind him to keep the feathers from bending on the ground. Techno hesitated for a second, and then sat beside him. The wolf did its best to lay on top of both of them, head in Philza’s lap and back end on Techno. Its white tail was slowly turning brown from thumping against the ground.

Philza laughed again. “Get off me you big lug.” He pushed the animal off his lap again. “Go cuddle Techno, I need to start the fire.”

The wolf whined, but sulked over and dropped its head into Techno’s lap. Despite its grumpy demeanor, its tail was still thumping against the dirt.

The god gave the canine a fond look. He pulled a flint and steel out of his robe, and started on the process of lighting a flame.

Techno knew how to start a fire with flint and steel, but he hadn’t done it in decades. Normally he just ate food cold or didn’t eat at all.

The entire scene was almost too domestic for Techno. Something curled in his gut as the sparks illuminated Philza’s hands and face. The sun had dipped below the tree line and the golden light made Techno yearn for the slow and warm days in the inn.

He ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur in order to do something with his hands. After a few dozen attempts, a small flame started in the god’s cupped hands. Slowly, he added pieces of tinder until it was strong enough to survive on its own. He put a few bigger pieces of wood on top of the fire for it to destroy when it grew big enough.

Philza turned his attention back to Techno. “Do you want something to eat? You didn’t take any when you left.”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, but Techno still felt like he was being scolded for something. He nodded, saying, “Sure, I can eat.”

The god nodded. Leaning over, Philza stuck his head inside of the tent. A second later, he emerged with a bag in hand. He rooted around inside for a moment. He pulled out the cloth bag that they’d put the smoked meat inside of yesterday.

He handed it to Techno, saying, “here.” The cursed man extracted a hand from where it had been scratching the wolf’s ear to grab the sack. The canine lifted its head to sniff at the bag. Techno thought it was going to try and take it, but it lowered its head back onto his lap without protest.

Philza pulled one more thing out of the bag before setting it aside. He unwrapped the remaining pieces of the bread loaf they’d made two days ago. The god must have hid it from his guests, otherwise it would be gone by now. He set the clothes it had been wrapped in over the bag, and tore two pieces off the loaf. Philza wrapped the rest of the bread back up and set it in bag.

Techno followed the deity’s example. He pulled a few pieces of jerky out of the bag, and handed them to his companion. The cursed man offered a bit to the wolf. It sniffed the meat for a moment, but laid its head back against the man’s chest. Techno shrugged, but closed the sack up and handed it to Philza, exchanging it for one of the pieces of bread.

They warmed their meals against the steadily growing fire. By the time they were finished eating, the sun had fully set. The wolf was dozing in Techno’s lap, and he was half convinced to join it. He was emotionally drained from the excitement of running, and from his running anxieties about Philza being upset that he’d left in the middle of the night. The god had hardly mentioned Techno’s flight at all, only expressing seemingly mild disappointment that Techno hadn’t taken food with him.

Techno shook his head, seemingly shaking his brain back into working order. He cautiously worked his way out from under the predator on his lap and stood up. Philza’s eyes followed him.

“I think I’m gonna go now. I’ve wasted enough time.”

Techno started towards the road, mentally promising that he wouldn’t stop walking, no matter what Philza said to stop him.

“You could stay here tonight.”

The monster hunter paused his stride. He could hear the deity standing up behind him.

“The tent is big enough for two people.”

Techno took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“Alright. Tonight only,” he lied to himself. “Then I need to keep moving.”

“Alright,” the deity echoed. Techno could imagine the deity nodding at his back.

That's how he found himself, pressed up against the back of a sleeping deity half an hour later. He could feel Philza slowly moving against his spine with every breath. The god was laying on top of one on his wings in a position that couldn’t have been comfortable, but the deity sure sounded fast asleep.

Techno was curled up inside of a bedroll. Philza just had a blanket since his wings wouldn’t fit in a bedroll. The wolf was lying half on Techno’s legs, half under Philza’s wing. The weight of the canine and the subtle noises from the both the wolf and god soon lulled Techno to sleep.

[snowdice]

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 25]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

Alright. I have a midterm that is due in 24 hours so we’re going to be going quite a while today. I’ll probably even stay up late since that class is canceled in the morning and I’ll sleep better if I go to bed at 2am with it done then I will if I go to bed at 10pm with it not done. I have a lot of water, tea, and snacks. Feel free to send me Lo-fi playlists because I’m not sure what vibe I want today and took 15 minutes to pick out my first one. XD

Chapter 7

“Him,” was the only thing Janus said before taking off after the figure who had just disappeared into the game area.

“What?” Remus’s voice followed after him. “Janus! What?!”

Janus did not pause, just continuing to run after Pat, hopping over two barricades as a shortcut. Janus cursed when he lost sight of the man for just a moment near the prize table filled with colorful goldfish, but he was able to spot him once again walking into one of the tents. Janus blasted into the tent. It was a game where they raced rats, and when Janus entered, Pat was cooing at one of them.

 “Who’s a tiny little squishy precious baby?” he was asking one of them, wiggling his pointer finger at it.

“You,” Janus growled stepping up to him.

He turned and tilted his head at Janus with a frown. “Um, me?” he asked, pointing to his chest, all sorts of innocent, but Janus could see a spot of hidden amusement in his eyes.

“Where is it?”

His eyebrows drew together, but it was an act. It was clearly an act! “Where is what?”

“The…” he glanced around them at the people surrounding them. “Thing you just took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Pat said with a frown.

 “Oh, no,” Janus said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fooling me twice is not an option.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Pat said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Just then, Remus jogged into the tent. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s him,” Janus said pointing. “He took it. He has it.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Pat said. He looked over to Remus with a confused frown.

Remus looked at Janus. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “It’s him. It has to be him. He’s the mask guy.”

Remus squinted at Pat. “He is?”

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not. I haven’t worn a mask all night. I just did the face paint,” he pointed to his cheeks.

 Remus raised his wrist and his timepiece lit up green. He looked at Janus.

“I lost sight of him for five seconds. He must have stashed it somewhere,” Janus said. He turned on Pat. “Where did you put it?”

“…Are you,” Pat asked, his eyes going back and forth between Janus and Remus, “… the police?”

“We are, actually,” Khalid said as she stepped into the tent. Remus must have called her. She inserted herself between Janus and Pat. “Agent Khalid,” she said, offering a hand with a smile. Pat looked at it in surprise and then smiled back hesitantly as he took it. “Apologizes, one of the big game prizes was stolen by someone matching your description. Would you mind coming down to security for questioning? Just to clear it up.”

 “Oh,” Pat said, hesitant. Janus expected him to refuse outright, but then he said. “Uh, sure.”

“Thank you very much, Mr…”

“Jonas,” Pat told her earnestly. “Do I need to be handcuffed?”

“No,” Khalid said. Janus frowned at her, but she ignored him. “It’s just a talk for now.” She gestured to the tent entrance. “Come with us.”

He did without argument, and Remus and Janus followed behind the both of them. Khalid did not lead them back to the base, but to a little spot that said “security” near the center of the event. Remy was already there waiting for them at a desk.

 “Remy, would you please take Mr. Jonas to go sit down?” she asked.

“Sure, boss,” Remy said, standing up. He led Pat away.

Khalid turned to Janus and Remus once they were out of earshot. “What is going on?”

“It’s the mask man,” Janus said, “the one from 1923, and my scanner said the time bomb was on the Millenia Bird outside the games entrance, but then it was gone the next second, and I saw him, and then he ran away.”

“So, does he have it on him?”

“No. I lost sight of him, and he must have stored it somewhere, but I know he took it.”

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“He’s the man from 1923?” she asked.

“Yes! Remus, that’s him, right? You recognize him.”

“Well,” Remus said thoughtfully. “He was in a mask, and it was dark in the room with the necklace. Other than that, I only really saw his back, and he was wearing pants. Mr. Jonas is wearing a dress, so I can’t really tell if their asses match.”

“Okay, but I was with him for hours. I swear it’s him, and I swear he took it,” Janus just about shouted.

“We’ll question him,” Khalid placated, “and Fred and Lena will keep looking in the meantime.”

 “He knows where it is,” Janus insisted. “I swear.”

“Okay,” Khalid said, before leaving to follow where Remy and Pat had gone. She stopped Janus with a hand on his shoulder. “I think Remus and I will do the interrogation.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You know the most about him, so observe from the sidelines and see if he makes any mistakes that indicate you’re right.”

“That’s just to placate me and you know it.”

“Observation’s over there,” she said pointing.

He got a thumbs up from Remus as he walked by, and Janus glared at his back before walking off to the indicated location.

 He watched as Remus and Khalid entered the room, and Remy left it. Remy joined him in the observation room after leaving and leaned against the wall.

Pat was sitting at a table and watched Remus and Khalid with that same rubbish placid confusion that he had before. “So,” Khalid said, “Mr. Jonas.”

“You can call me Nick,” Pat interrupted.

“Lia,” Khalid replied. He smiled at her happily. “So, are you enjoying your day?” she asked.

“I am!” he replied. “It’s a big day. You only get to see the turn of a millennia once in your life.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid said. “Doing anything special for it?”

 “Um, not really,” he said. “Other than the party. I’m going to meet up with my roommates after dinner. Kevin doesn’t like this sort of thing, and Joe couldn’t come.”

“Your roommates,” Khalid said, considering him. “Do you live around here?”

“Uh huh,” Pat replied.

“Do you have any ID?”

“I do, want me to get it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pat unzipped one of the bubbles on his waist and handed her a chip. “Remus, would you mind going out and getting the ID scanner?” she asked, even though her timepiece would be able to read it.

“Ah, shit,” Remy said. “Props. What do those things even look like?”

 As Remy scrambled to find something that would pass for an ID reader so “Nick” didn’t get suspicious of Khalid using her timepiece, Janus watched the two alone in the room like a hawk.

“I see you’re wearing a dress inspired by the 2770s,” Khalid noted, as Remus came to stand next to him.

“Yeah!” Pat replied. “Joe made it for me. He’s really good at fashion design!”

“Can I see?” she asked.

With a happy smile, he reached over the table to let her get a look of the sleeves. Janus saw her subtly scan the fabric, probably to make sure it was from the 2990s and not actually from the 2770s. Considering she didn’t mention it, Janus assumed it checked out.

 Remy came back with some sort of device then and handed it to Remus who saluted and wandered back into the interrogation room. Khalid pretended to scan the ID in her hand. She handed it back to him without comment. “So, you said you live with your roommates: Joe and Kevin?” she asked.

“Yep!” he replied. “We’re practically like brothers.”

“Would you mind calling them?”

“Erm,” he titled his head like he was confused by the question. “Well, like I said, Joe is a bit busy, but I could definitely call Kevin.

“Here,” Khalid said, “use my phone.”

“I have my own,” he said with a frown.

“Humor me,” she requested.

“Uh, okay,” Pat agreed. He took the offered 2999 phone and dialed a number on it. Khalid reached over to put it on speaker.

“Hello?” a voice asked after a few seconds.

“Um, hey Kevin, it’s Nick.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “Hello Nick, is something wrong? Why are you calling me from someone else’s phone?”

“I’m fine, I think.” He looked up at Khalid. “Why am I calling him exactly?”

“Hello, I’m Officer Khalid,” Khalid said. “I just wanted to confirm that you are Nick Jonas’s roommate, and he does live in Manaus.”

“Yes, we live together with our other roommate,” the man replied flippantly. “Officer? Is something wrong?”

“I believe there was just a case of mistaken identity,” Khalid said.

“Bullshit there was!” Janus hissed, though she could not hear him.

“No need to worry,” Khalid continued.

“I’m good Kevin,” Pat said.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Kevin asked.

“Don’t be Paranoid, Kevin. I’ll see you Tonight for the New Years Celebration. You know I Live to Party.”

“I am hanging up now,” Kevin said.

“No! Comeback.” The line went dead. Pat handed the device back to Khalid.

She took it and smiled at him. “Give us just a couple of minutes,” she requested. He nodded easily, and she and Remus exited the interrogation room. “I… think we’re done here,” Khalid said.

“No, he’s lying,” Janus insisted, and got a dubious look in return. “I know he is! Remus!”

“The alibi is pretty solid…” Remus said, “and he doesn’t have the bomb on him.”

“Oh, come on,” Janus said. “You can’t say there is nothing fishy going on here.”

Khalid and Remus shared a look. “Janus,” Khalid said. “I respect your intuition. It is usually very good, but you have been a bit intense about the man from the 1920s, and I think that may be blinding you a bit...”

“I am not imagining this!” Janus said. “That’s him and he took it.”

“You only met him once while he was wearing a mask,” Khalid pointed out with a frown, “and you didn’t see him take the bomb, did you?”

“No, but he looked at me and I knew,” Janus argued. They both gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, come on!”

“You know that’s a little weak, Jan,” Remus said.

“Let me talk to him,” Janus requested. “Just give me five minutes to talk with him.”

Khalid raised one eyebrow. “Fine,” she agreed. “You have five minutes, but after that, you have to let it go. We can’t waste any more time.”

 Chapter 8

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

 “Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U.-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

11594

Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

 “Game?” Pat asked. “Macy I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

 “There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Remus, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god.”

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said, slamming the door closed behind them.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

 Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what mask guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

 “Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

 “You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the integration room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

 “Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

 “You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyway, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Remus!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

 “Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

 Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

 “It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

 Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

 “He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

 “Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

 Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

 They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

 Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

 “You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

 She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

 He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

 Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

 Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

 The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

 “Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

 “Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

 Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

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Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

 Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

 “I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?”

 “Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

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“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

 Luckily Sliver Mountains ended up only being about an hour away from the TPI by time adherent travel, but considering Janus was used to his travel being instantaneous, it was an aggravating trip. He had to show ID and be buzzed up to the fourth floor since it was usually locked to everyone not traveling by timepiece or who worked in the office.

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

 Janus nodded and sat, waiting for time to slowly tick by. Virgil arrived after a few minutes, lugging a giant bag with him. He caught sight of Janus and wordlessly jerked his head towards the hallway. Janus followed him.

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

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“Do you know why the lockdown was instituted?” Janus asked. Virgil shook his head, so Janus explained briefly that they had been trying to find a timebomb on the eve of the year 3000, but it had been swiped by a free agent time traveler. “Some of the things seemed to be references to things that I couldn’t place, and I was wondering if you would recognize any.”

“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

 “Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“Yo-you’re going to have,” his sentence was broken by a giggle, and actual full-fledged giggle, “have to give me a minute.” With that, he sort of listed to the side and seemed to purposefully fall off his chair onto the floor under his desk.

Janus blinked and when he didn’t surface after a moment, he stood up to lean over the desk and look down at him. Virgil had his arm thrown over his beat red face, as he shook from what Janus thought was suppressed laughter.

 “What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

Virgil pulled himself out from under his desk and grabbed his bag of phones. He dug through it for a few seconds before pulling one out and handing it to Janus. “I have a lab for my students where they get preloaded phones from the early 21st century and are supposed to guess the demographics of the person who owns it. This one is an iPhone 3 meant to belong to a pre-teen to teenage girl from the year 2009. Look under music artists starting with the letter ‘J.’”

15810

Confused, Janus scrolled through the old style phone, finding the music app and opening it easily. Upon getting to the ‘J’s, he immediately paused on an artist called the ‘Jonas Brothers.’ He clicked on it and read a few of the song titles. They weren’t all there, but…

“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

Janus did, listening to the fairly standard pop like intro from the time period. It wasn’t until he got to the lyrics saying, ‘He told me he built a time machine’ that he cursed, understanding exactly what Pat had been doing. When the singer a few lines latter proclaimed that his neighbor said ‘I’ve been to the year 3000’ he almost smashed the artifact to pieces right then and there.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

 Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

 “What happened?” Janus asked.

“We picked up a small time distortion in France 2027. At the moment, it is small enough not to cause any disruptions, but it is slowly growing, and we don’t know what caused it. Usually we’d just send surveillance agents at this stage, but considering what’s going on, I think it would be best to send a field agent. And it would just be you, because we don’t want to send too many people out at once.”

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

 “I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

In less then 3 hours, he was dressed for 2027 France and in decontamination. “Well,” he said out loud when he was given the all clear sign, “I hope I don’t explode.” He selected the coordinates on the timepiece and the next moment he was in a small alleyway in the city of Montpellier, France in 2027.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

 After a moment to get his bearings, Janus made his way out of the alleyway and onto a small street. The street was lined with restaurants and shops as people went about their daily lives. He carefully integrated himself into the crowd and began weaving his way through them. He needed to find the source of the distortion but doing a quick scan with his timepiece told him there wasn’t any sign of it yet. He’d have to wait for it to act up.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

 As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“Oh, you’re just a baby,” Pat laughed. “Don’t you get it yet? The two of us are out of sync timeline wise. You’ve been apparently running around with a much younger version of me, but all of that happened quite a while ago for me. Don’t worry though, it gets better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The time bomb has been long deactivated. Here,” he reached into his pocket and tossed him something. Janus caught it on instinct. “Proof. Don’t worry, we took all of the dangerous bits out years ago from my perspective.” It was the core of a time bomb, the time bomb Pat had stolen if he was to be believed. “You can tell your people it’s safe to remove the lockdown.”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

Pat reached up to pat his face. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll be seeing me later.” He twisted his wrist and a small electric current sparked between them. Janus jerked his hand away, and Pat smiled at him. “Or… earlier.” He winked, and then he was gone.

Janus cursed, but he didn’t have more than a moment to be angry because in the next second there was a yelp, and something landed on top of him. He was bowled over into a tangle of limbs and pained noises.

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

 Pat jumped to his feet, leaving Janus on the ground in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his tone much different then the one he’d been using a moment earlier. His hair was longer than it had been before, and if Janus looked closely, he did seem like he was a couple of years younger suddenly. Out of sync timelines. I’ll see you earlier. Holy shit.

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

 “It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“It is my business,” Janus said, “because for all I know, you are the cause of the time distortions I’m after. Considering that I doubt you have a license for that,” he waved at the odd looking timepiece of Pat’s wrist, “it’s very possible.”

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

 Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

“Just wait,” Janus answered grimly. He looked at Pat. “Usually I’d arrest you on the spot,” he said, “but I’m alone for this one, and that is far more important at the moment. So, have a nice day doing whatever bullshit you are doing.” He glanced at his timepiece.

 Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

 Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

 “You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Pat agreed, “but you did.”

 Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

 “Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

 Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

 Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

 When they got to the Musée Fabre museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

 He dithered from a few moments before following Pat inside. Pat had already struck up a conversation with the woman charging admission into art museum. She was looking at him, her brow knit as he spoke. Janus nudged him away from her getting a confused glance from him in return. He shot a smile at the woman.

“Two adult passes for the museum and the Hotel Sabatier d’Espevran, please,” he said, placing down 14 euro.

“Ah,” she said, still looking at Pat oddly. “Yes sir.” She gave them the passes and Janus quickly shuffled Pat away.

“What is wrong with your French?” he hissed once they were out of earshot.

 “What?” he asked, bewildered.

“You sound like you’re reading Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. No one talks like that anymore.”

“I’m a little rusty,” Pat defended himself.

“Two centuries?” Janus asked. Pat stuck his tongue out like a child once again. “Is that your only way to respond to legitimate criticism?”

“What does it even matter anyway? No one ever expects time travel, at least not for something so silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Janus said. “It’s a legitimate issue. The wrong person who’s watched too much science fiction notices and you’re putting the timeline at risk. Not to mention if there are other time travelers around that aren’t as nice as me.”

 “Are there a lot of time travelers around?” Pat asked, sounding intrigued.

“There are plenty, both legal and not.”

“Huh,” he said, “but what are the chances we’ll run into another one?”

“Considering the time distortion? There could be many. Opportunists wanting to capitalize off the chaos, people trying to stop it, like me, and not to mention the person who caused it.”

“Wait, someone made it happen?” Pat asked.

“These things don’t just happen naturally.”

“Huh. So, something like this has to be caused by a person?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “…Why?”

Pat smiled. “No reason. I think we should head upstairs. Whatever I’m picking up says it’s around here, but I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s a floor or two above us.”

“Which is why it’s ridiculous to use Google Maps.”

 “Would you rather use yours?” he asked sweetly.

“I’m still not convinced it’s not your doing,” Janus growled. “Why does your tech still work when mine doesn’t?”

“Probably the same reason the ring did,” he muttered.

“What?”

“What?”

“You may be the most aggravating being in the universe.”

Pat glanced at him with a bit of a smirk. “I can’t tell you,” he said. “It would be a much bigger risk to the timeline than me speaking in French from the 1830s. But, I’m pretty sure the reason mine still works is just a software difference.”

“What the hell do you mean a software difference?”

 Pat opened his mouth, doubtlessly to supply him with yet another frustratingly cheeky and unhelpful answer. Yet, Pat did not have a chance to do so as, just as Janus stepped onto the second floor of the museum, the ground started to violently shake. Janus tried to turn to catch Pat as the other man’s foot slipped on the last step, but he couldn’t do so in time. Pat fell onto his hands and knees, sliding back a few steps and smacking his face into the stairs hard once and then a couple of times more after that as he slid.

 Chapter 13

The room stopped shaking after a moment. “Ow,” Pat said. He seemed a bit stunned but was still moving at least. He carefully maneuvered himself into a seating position. “Ouch. Owie.” He reached up to poke his own nose. “Ow!” Janus slapped his hand away when he got there. A bit of blood was already trickling from his nose and there was a small cut over his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding too much.

Janus pushed him so he was leaning slightly forward and produced a pack of time appropriate tissues from his pocket. He pulled one out of the package and offered it to him.

 He took it and pressed it up against his nose to try to stop the bleeding. He seemed mostly alright though Janus imagined he’d have plenty of bruises down the line. The power in the museum flickered and Janus looked up. Now that he was listening, he could hear people panicking in and out of the museum.

“We should probably get off of the stairs,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” Pat agreed. Janus helped him to his feet, and they climbed back up the steps. Janus looked around and found an employees only sign a few feet away. Usually he’d not risk that as it could get him into trouble he didn’t want to be in, but considering the earthquake that had just happened, he could probably play it off as panic.

 He ushered Pat into a small room and found a chair and table. He had Pat sit in the chair and pulled out another one of the tissues to dab at the blood coming from the cut over his eyes. “Here,” he said. “Hold that there. I’m going to go see if there are any bandages about.”

Pat took the tissue with the hand not already holding one to his nose. “Thanks,” he said.

Janus nodded and got to his feet. The lights flickered once again but didn’t stay off for now. He didn’t know how long that would last.

 He couldn’t see anything that might hold bandages in this room, but there was a second door. “I’ll be right back,” he told Pat, exiting through it.

The lights flickered once more as the door closed behind him and he cursed. When they came back up Janus’s eyes immediately fell on a man. They both froze.

“Remus!” Janus hissed the second their eyes met. “What are you doing here?”

Remus blinked at him for a moment. “Hi. Janus,” he said. “I… come to France for… tea sometimes?”

“There isn’t any tea back here.”

“So, there isn’t…” he said. There was a moment of silence. “Uh, so I actually cannot talk to you right now.”

 “What do you mean?” Janus asked. Remus grimaced in a way Janus had never seen from him before. It immediately set off alarm bells in Janus’s head. “Oh my god,” Janus said. “Oh my god. You’re not from the same time as me.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Remus mumbled.

“Holy shit, you’re looping?!”

“It’s… not looping if I wasn’t here the first time.”

“Remus, we spend more than 12 hours a day together most of the time. The only thing worse than this is if I looped back to this time myself.”

“…Yeah. Anyway, I need to leave now.”

“Please do.”

 He turned to go, but then stopped. “Oh, and,” he reached into his pocket and tossed something at Janus. Janus caught it.

It was Band-Aids.

“Oh, shit,” Janus spat at the clear use of foreknowledge. “I hate this. I hate you. I’m going to kill you the next time you see me.”

“Sure, Jan.”

“Go.”

He did, slipping into the next room while Janus took a deep breath and then turned back to the door behind him. He schooled his face before Pat looked up. “I found some Band-Aids.”

Pat nodded and Janus came over to squat next to him.

 Janus opened the box and Pat looked down. His eyes lit up with sudden joy so intense that Janus felt like he’d just gotten a punch to the gut. “Kitty Band-Aids!” he exclaimed. Janus bothered to actually look at the design on the container, only to note the cartoon cats on the front. Pat was almost vibrating off his seat. “Look they’re all so cute!” He grabbed the container from him to inspect the different designs printed on the back with glee even as a bit of blood was still trickling from his nose.

Janus took the box back gently and guided the wad of bloody Kleenexes back to his nose.

 “Which would you like?” Janus asked.

“Oh, they are all so cute,” Pat cooed. “Um, how about that one!” he pointed. “Or that one! Or that one!”

“Pat you only have one cut.”

“But they’re all so cute!” Pat said, tongue tucking into his cheek. He contemplated the box again. “Let’s do the black one,” he finally settled on.

Janus selected one of the Band-Aids with a black cat wrapped around a pink ball of yarn and staring back at them with wide green eyes. The think looked like it had partaken in one two many doses of catnip, but Janus didn’t mention that.

 Instead, he just carefully unstuck the backing from the Band-Aid and motioned for Pat to remove the tissue from his forehead. He smiled at Janus as he drew back.

Janus cleared his throat. “How’s the nose.”

“It’s slowing down,” Pat replied. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Janus replied. They met eyes for a second before Pat looked away back at the box of Band-Aids.

“Oh,” Pat said. “There’s a grey one. I didn’t notice.” He pointed to it. “I should have used that one.”

“Do you like grey cats?” Janus asked.

“I like all kitties,” he said, “but one of my roommates loves grey cats. He had one when he was a kid and thinks of them as good omens. Seeing one always brightens up his day.”

“A friend of mine has a grey cat,” Janus said. “She’s much more tolerable than him.”

Pat laughed a bit. “Don’t be mean,” he said.

“Oh, he deserves it, don’t worry.” Janus considered him for a moment. “Here,” he said, pulling out one of the Band-Aids with the grey cat on it. It did, actually, look a lot like Diesel Fuel.

“But I don’t…”

Janus just shrugged and stuck it on his cheek where there was no wound. Pat giggled and touched it with a finger. Janus stood back up.

“Can I have another tissue?” Pat asked.

“Sure.” Janus handed a tissue over to him and he crumpled up the bloody ones in his hand.

“I think I’m good to keep going,” Pat said, putting the new tissue under his nose. “The nose will stop soon.”

 Pat got out his iPhone and directed him back out of the room. They checked the second floor and didn’t find anything and so went to the third floor. The second they arrived in the room that Patton’s phone was directing them too, Janus knew that it must be right. There was a strange, distorted whirling sound and the entire room was shaking slightly like they were standing next to a railroad track.

“I’m guessing this is it,” Pat said.

Janus nodded and looked over his shoulder at the screen. They both cautiously walked towards where the little dot was on the phone.

 “Is that it?” Pat asked, pointing at a small device on the center column in the room. Janus reached forward to flip the switch on it. The whirling stopped and the room settled. Janus’s time piece vibrated as it came back online. They waited for a few moments. “I assumed… time distortions would be more…”

“They are,” Janus said. “This one is artificial.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a simulation,” Janus said. “It causes similar symptoms to a time distortion, but it’s not actually fracturing time at all.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said. He took the piece of tech of the wall and carefully stored it in his pocket, “but someone’s trying to get our attention.”

 Chapter 14

20204

Janus didn’t feel comfortable leaving France 2027 just yet, still weirded out by the strange turn of events. So, he and Pat ended up sticking around for a couple of hours. They looked through the art museum for a bit, but Janus was having trouble focusing on the pieces, and Pat eventually suggested they get some air. Janus agreed considering the museum would close for the night soon anyway.

They wandered around the downtown for a bit. The people seemed to jump back from the strange weather and earthquake that afternoon rather quickly, and there were plenty still about to blend into.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

A fic that includes a Voldemort obsessed with James Potter. Sirius does not like Voldemort interest in James. In this fic, James is a brilliant leader with powerful magic, and is always one step ahead of Voldemort. Love fics that includes a possessive Sirius. Please and thank you!

“I don't like it," Sirius said, aware as the words came out of his mouth that he was beginning to sound like a broken record.

"I know," James said. It's what he always said these days. In the beginning, he used to explain to Sirius why it was necessary or how it didn't matter because Voldemort was never going to get what he wanted.

What Voldemort wanted was, in a word, James. He found him 'fascinating'. Naturally, as his boyfriend, Sirius took personal offense to that. Voldemort also wanted to rule the Wizarding World and have everyone bow to him, but he thought James was a much easier target. Joke was on him, because ever since he'd picked up that little obsession, James had gotten proactive, and Voldemort's position in the Wizarding World was worse than ever. "You're not considering it, are you? It has to be a trap."

"A trap wouldn't do him any good," James said, tapping his fingers against the table as he thought. His brow scrunched up, and Sirius wanted to kiss him there, so he did. James shot him a quick smile, then went back to thinking. It was war, and time was often important-- the difference between life and death for everyone opposing Voldemort.

"A trap could get him you," Sirius said, but James shook his head.

"A trap would get me killed; that's not what he wants."

"Maybe he changed his mind." The only thing worse than James getting kidnapped was James being killed, in Sirius's opinion. Getting captured was something he could be saved from. Death was death. It was permanent, and no amount of thinking on Sirius's part would get around that.

James shook his head, dismissing Sirius's concern out of hand. It used to be that that would bother Sirius, but he trusted James to have a better grasp of the situation than he did. He went back to tapping his fingers on the surface of the table, and when it got a touch too frantic, Sirius put his hand on the back of James's neck and rubbed.

"Why don't we put this down for the night? It's late, and you know that you don't think as good when you're tired."

James sighed, sagging a little. Sirius knew that he was going to agree before he even opened his mouth. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Thanks. I don't know how much sleep I'll be able to get, though, when I'm worried like this."

"Let's go to bed anyways and see. If you can't get to sleep in a couple hours, you have my full permission to start working on this again."

James glanced up at him, surprised. "Really?"

"I promise," Sirius said. It was a stacked deck though, because he knew exactly how to make James unwind. He'd be out like a light in one hour, not making it anywhere close to two.

*

"What's the one thing Voldemort is obsessed with?" James asked, walking around the table. He had his different tics that helped him think, and right now, it was more nebulous than usual. Hence, pacing around the table in countless circles. Sirius was sat with his feet propped up, acting as a sounding board. He wasn't half as good at this chess, secret war planning thing as James was, but sometimes James needed someone to talk to.

"Other than you?"

James snorted, giving Sirius head a fond nudge when he passed by. "Yes, other than that. Besides, you have him beat out in that department. He wants me on his side, but it's not what he desires more than anything. He wants to rule the Wizarding World, but again, that's a want, not a need. What does he feel he needs?"

"Sycophants?"

"They're definitely nice. A good bonus, but not the end goal," James said. "We're thinking too small. He already has those. He already has a manor and all measure of wealth. He's set up for life."

"Several lifetimes," Sirius corrected. Between all his followers, he had enough to live in luxury for a millenia.

"Several," James repeated, chewing on his lip. "Several." He stopped walking and turned to Sirius. "That's it."

"It is?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't know what 'it' was, much less if 'it' was the thing Voldemort wanted above all else.

"He wants to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he's the best, most powerful wizard of all time, and how do you do that? Taking over the Ministry, all the followers, those are facets. Window dressing, but not the goal. What is everyone afraid of? Death."

"Right, but he's not invincible," Sirius said. "Hell, back at the start, you caught him in that explosion and he started bleeding."

"Exactly, and that's when he decided that he wanted me on his side. Not invincibility, but something even better: immortality. It's why the setbacks from our plans-"

"Your plans," Sirius corrected.

"-didn't piss him off. He thinks that he has all the time in the world. Whatever he's done to extend his lifespan, he's already done it. If he lives for three hundred years, it won't matter to anyone that it took him ten years instead of five to take over Britain."

"That makes sense, but how did he do it?"

James went back to pacing and made a vague gesture with one hand. "Still working on that, but there's a trick to everything. No spell or ritual is infallible. Something that extended his lifespan would've given a boost to his power, so at least we know why no one can take him on in a one-on-one duel."

"Can't be a vampire," Sirius said, and James shook his head in agreement.

"Too many drawbacks. He'd be indebted to whoever turned him, and he's not willing to give someone else that kind of power. So what else is there that could extend his life?"

Sirius made a face. "Mating a veela." He knew Voldemort wouldn't have done that, but they were talking about every possibility, and technically mating a veela did give a power boost and extend a wizard's life, even if that extension was only twenty years and the power boost was said to be negligible.

James laughed. "I'm sure you're right, but I think we'd know if he was hooking up with a veela. That's the sort of secret that would get out."

"Something completely hidden, then," Sirius said, and James nodded. "A ritual for something that powerful would take years."

"And take place during solstices, full moons, et cetera. One of his followers would've noticed that he was missing during those times."

"Before he started the war, then."

"Has to be," James agreed.

They were both silent for another two trips around the table, then Sirius scratched at his ear. "A deal with the fae?"

James looked at him curiously. "Are they real?"

"Not sure."

"Same issue as with vampires though. Voldemort's not what I would call honorable. He wouldn't make a deal if he had to give up anything important for it."

Sirius shrugged. "Just throwing it out there."

James hummed, chewing on his lip some more. Sirius wanted to kiss him, but he thought he should wait for a slightly better time. Distracting James with sex while he was thinking usually resulted in some epiphany while Sirius was balls deep, and he didn't appreciate having to stop then.

The topic turned from how Voldemort accomplished immortality to what they were going to do about it. If they had a theory for what he'd done and just needed to confirm it, that would be easy, but James felt that getting a read on him would be their best bet. After a while, Sirius stopped trying to change his mind and helped him plan it.

They decided on a complicated network of runes to put in place and plan a fight happening there. There wasn't any chance of Voldemort circumventing it, which meant that they had to make sure he was drawn to that fight. The easiest way to do it was for James to be there, but that was a whole other parcel of worry. Sirius was equal parts wanting to convince James to change his mind and wanting to shag him blind. He kissed James once they were done planning for the day, pushing him against the table. James just grinned and hopped up, giving Sirius space to stand between his legs.

"You love me, right?" Sirius asked, pausing in pushing James's robes out of the way.

James smiled and tucked Sirius's hair behind his ear. "Always have and always will. I'm yours, love, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You love me too, yeah?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do," Sirius said, rolling his eyes but giving James another kiss just in case he'd ruffled any feathers by rolling his eyes at him.

"Well you asked first, so I thought I'd check."

Sirius kissed him again and stuck his hand down his pants. It was the last thing either of them said for a while.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 11: A Joust Worth Remembering!

It was late afternoon, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon to our clock. Crowds gather to the center ring, ready for the evening's big event, Dionysus's joust. On opposite sides, Dionysus and Ares stood like two forces of nature. Ares prepared his chariot, now being pulled by Delphi's most capable mules, glared at Dionysus from across the ring. Dionysus, stared back not as a proud and fierce as the bulls he's compared to, but more of a scared fawn looking straight at the wolf eyeing it.

He glances at Hermes, Apollo and Ariadne whom were sitting within the crowd, feeling a little courage, he rides his chariot slowly towards to the ring, Ares following soon after, he clears his throat, "LADIES, GENTLEMEN AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN AND BEYOND! I give you the joust of the millenia! Me, your humble ruler versus Ares!", he reached his arm out to show the crowd a begrudged Ares. "May the best god win!", he finished his speech, he felt a cold sweat run down his tempal. "Okie dokie, just relax-", he looked again to Hermes and Apollo, he could see them both had a glint in their eyes, "-you guys better have done a good job, I can't bare losing her.", he quietly whispered to himself.

Ares however, was revved up like an angry boar, ready to once again gouge his prey. He clenched his teeth as if he was going to go for the jugular. "I'm going to wreck your shit Dio.", he growled through his teeth. He and Dionysus both stopped a little parallel to each other, setting their positions for the joust. The two chariots were ready, the lances pointing to each other....and the chariots darted to each other as if time itself slowed to a crawl. Things were looking like they were going according to plan, but fate is a force even the gods can't predict. It was going to come on four legs, orange fur and long whiskers.

Back at the food tent, the little lycan pup was still rummaging through the cloths and pillows, now all shredded open creating a storm of down feathers. He played and leaped, knawed and ravaged the pillows as if they were rabbits. Until, he heard a mew, just outside the tent. All his attention went from enjoying himself, to finding the thing that made the noise. Sniffing the air, his nose lead to the corner of ravaged tent, again a mew was heard. He poked his head from under the tent, seeing a stray cat. The pup had no idea what a cat was, but he hated it like any self respecting canidae. He gave the most hardy growl his little body could muster and barked. The cat arched, hairs on end and it hissed. The pup matched ferocity with the cat, barking again he gave chase, determined to hunt it. The car let out a yowl and ran off, the cat and pup both have way to a cat and mouse chase throughout the feild. Several Delphians saw this oddly shaped wolf pup chasing the cat, some knowing very well this was no dog, it was definitely something of a beast. The pup chased the cat....into the jousting field.

Within the meaningless seconds, Ares felt victory was a red dye tipped lance away, "oh I can't wait to see the look on that fatass's face when I get take Delphi for myself!", he thought to himself. He could feel the warm wave of confidence run down his back and the cool breeze of the chariot's speed. His face with a manic grin, contrary to Dionysus's look of fear and worry. All Dionysus could do was hope that he wouldn't lose everything he cared for.

Ares it seemed had the joust set, until he saw a flash of orange followed by a little blurr of greyish brown. "Wait wh-", suddenly just time began to start walking instead of crawling, he heard the haunting sound of something breaking. He looked to his right and saw the wheel broke right off it's wheelhub, while at the same time, the sight of the two beasts of burdens frightened the chariot mules. The mules reared back, braying in fear of the fast moving things. The same had happened to Dionysus's mules, but he quickly reacted to the situation. He tugged at the riens as hard as he could, and tugged to his right and the whole chariot took a remarkable slide. Just narrowly avoiding hitting Ares's chariot.

It's an incredible chaos! As Ares's chariot continues to crash down to the dirt, the mules struggling with the yoke and shaft, Dionysus's mules grind to a halt and both gods seem to have lost control. The two gods, now more concerned about not dieing from an unfortunate chariot accident, where orbiting the field in a cloud of dust.

The whole joust had become the world's most heavenly mess. Hermes looked at Apollo, mildly glaring at him, all Apollo could do is gawk like everyone in the crowd. He looked at Hermes to see if he was enjoying the sight as much as he was but it was clear Hermes was more mildly upset. "What did YOU do?", Hermes asked. Even he wanted to know what did Apollo do to help sabotage Ares, because even Hermes himself wouldn't have thought of something as simple as messing with the chariot.

Apollo blushed a little with childish shame, "oh nothing much.....I just loosened a thing...or two.", he explained that he loosened the wheelhub to make sure it was guaranteed the wheel would fly off.", Hermes was dumbfounded yet actually impressed at the simplicity of it all.

Next to Apollo, Ariadne was worried about Dionysus, hoping he didn't hurt himself too much. "Oh no my dearest Dionysus! Please let him be alright.", she worried out loud. Apollo gave her a friendly pay on her shoulder.

"There there, he's been through worse.", Apollo assured her. He noticed a few people shouting and asking about the joust's results. Did Ares win? Or Did Dionysus win? As the dust cleared, both chariots, both pair of mules and both gods, in a pile of a kerfuffle. Ares rubbed his hurting head, all he could remember was something whizzing through the jousting feild and BOOM, now he was laying on the side of his own chariot...belly down. His thoughts started to collect and he than quickly remembered the wheel, now fuming with anger.

Dionysus, still reeling from his epic drift, was seeing stars for a few seconds. His thoughts ran as fast as the stars did and he felt a pit in his stomach and sinking in his heart. He shook his head, as he noticed a bright, green mark on Ares's left thigh. His gaping mouth quickly transformed into a smile, he had won by luck itself. Before Ares could turn around to strangle Dionysus, a satyr shouts "LORD DIONYSUS IS THE WINNER!". The crowd roared with cheer and merriment for their patron god had won as expected. Ariadne leaps up and cheered, she hastily went to Dionysus to hug the big fool. "You could have gotten yourself hurt!", Ariadne gave him a slap on the face, but just as quickly she was furious, she hugged him again. Relieved that he's alright. Dionysus picked her up, embracing her, he was relieved that she wasn't going to be trinketed away to his war mongering brother.

Ares was confused, he looked all over his body and found that bright green paint on his thigh, it stuck out like a sore thumb, evidence of his defeat. He looked at the cheering crowd and saw Apollo and Hermes both giggling, it was clear what had happened. Those two had sabotaged him, all this because his "whiny brother was a sore loser and couldn't stand loosing in front of his adoring followers" his thoughts roared. He stood there, stewing in his own anger. He growl, snarled, and baired his teeth but he took a deep breath, knowing well that if all of this calamity happened, it was obvious it wasn't written in the stars. He huffed and snorted like a bull, he wasn't going to dignify Dionysus with a congratulations. He stormed off, to find his horses and someone to fix his chariot.

About an hour later, after Dionysus's decree of curfew had to be upheld as promised, Ares was still at the stables, waiting for his chariot to be fixed by a supposed reputable repair nymph. He sat down on a stool, brooding his loss of the perfect training ground for an army he would have to wait another century. "Bastard drunk asshole, I swear if that golden twink and thieving gnat Hermes didn't fuck up my chances...hmf. I would have won.....I want a rema-" suddenly, he heard the sniffling and whinnying of a dog. He turned his head to the sound, and slowly followed it to a pile of empty barrels. He looked inside some of the barrels, he moved some aside, he couldn't seem to find the sound. Than, he finally found the source, it was the little pup.

It had seemed that shortly after he and the cat zoomed across the field, their chase ensued. He and the cat had a tussle, they 'battled' it out but towards the end, the pup lost to the cat's claws. A scratch across his little snout, few on his body and arms, tears running down his face, poor thing had its first taste of defeat with a little side of pain. Ares watched on, just wondering who would put this poor misshapen dog in tattered clothes. "To make my day even worse, these drunken fools decided to defile an innocent dog. Well... No use having two souls suffer...", he leaned down and saw the pitiful little, "hey buddy.", he spoke softly.

The lycan pup looked up, perked his ears in shock and let out a little snarl. To the pup, Ares was a towering opponent, he was going to do everything to defend himself. Ares however, was actually curious about the pup, it was definitely a funny looking dog with oddly long arms, legs and paws. He gently picks the pup by the scruff of his tattered chiton, as he does so, the pup grabs on to his forearm and knaws on the bareskin. The pup tried to dig in deep but even his little sharp teeth couldn't break Ares's skin.

Ares gave a hardy chuckle, "You have a lot fire in you, ugh buddy? I'm not going to lie, I have no idea what kinda dog you are....Fuck it, you'll make a fine addition to my pack little one...I think I'll name you.....Ajax.", he scratched the pup behind his ear with his free hand. The pup suddenly relaxed as he felt the pleasant starching of a persistent itch had gone, his tail wagged with glee and even relaxed his grip on Ares's forearm, letting Ares carry him like a small child. Delighted, Ares carried him to his chariot to bring back to Olypmus.

Back at Dionysus's veranda, the boys were enjoying a late afternoon cup of wup. Apollo was playing his lyre while Hermes, Ariadne and Dionysus relaxed after helping the citizens put away the maritals from the games. Dionysus with Ariadne in one arm and a kylix in the other hand, "man, that was great...did you see that sweet drift, I knew Ares was going to do something weird so I ha-?", he drunkenly went on.

"Dionysus love, you know very well you didn't plan anything.", Ariadne included. She was playing with his curly, thick locks. Dionysus blushed a little on top of his rosey glow of wine, laid the side of his head on to her, "yes darling.", he responded, "shame Ares couldn't stay for our little celebration.", he said with an air of irony. Apollo looked at Dionysus and shook his head, he knew he was just mostly relieved about Ares losing.

Hermes was swirling around his kylix, he started to ponder about the event and how did it go so wrong. He knew he and Apollo had sufficiently sabotaged Ares and his chariot yet the beginning of the joust just felt odd, he felt something was going and that a perfectly simple day wasn't going to end on a high note somehow. "Say....did anyone actually see what that THING that ran in between you guys were?", he asked taking a sip of the wine.

The rest of them all started to ponder as well, Dionysus clicked his tounge, ".....maybe it was just a dog chasing a cat or something.....", he bluntly put it. "Wait....do we have dogs in Delphi?", he asked Ariadne.

"Of course we have dogs in Delphi, Dionysus. Many of our farmers have herding dogs to protect the livestock.", she responded.

Apollo chimed in, "hmm.....yes it could....but didn't the dog look off too? It looked a little lanky....and...also....did anyone knoticed the dog.....wearing a tunic?". He hopeed someone around knew what he had seen.

This comment sent shivers down Hermes's spine, he suddenly remembered his encounter with the wolf creature. "Ugh.....you guys don't think it was-", he was interrupted by the sound of Kale.

Kale strutted towards the gods, "My Lord Dionysus, the citizens would like to express their gratitude and appreciation for your entertaining performance this evening....buuuut there was a small complaint.", he eloquently noted.

Dionysus was a little surprised about this news, "what complaint?", he asked. To his knowledge the whole thing was a success regardless of the terrible bet that had taken place behind closed curtains.

Kale, with little to no hesitation, "Well the main food tent was absolutely FuCkInG destroyed, someone ate all the roasted goat, most of the breads and ugh absolutely RUINED the furnishings I worked so hard placing. I am just floored, my Lord.", he let out a depressed sigh.

Dionysus was confused, did someone break in the food tent or was this just evidence of an animal attack? He cleared his throat, "ugh, I am so sorry about that, Kale, I saw it earlier in the morning it looked really nice. Did anyone see anything?", he asked, he just hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

Kale composes himself a little with a deep light breath, "well it looked like animal was in there...but it could have been some kid in a wolf costume or something just making mischief.", he deducted. However, Delphians weren't known for pulling such pranks, even for misbehaving youths, this would be considered to be in poor taste considering the farming population.

Ariadne slowly looked to Dionysus, suspecting he knew about something. "An animal you say?", she asked. The hair on the back of Dionysus's neck stand on end, his MAN senses were tingling, and his wife was in on it. He chuckled nervously, "maaaaybe it was just a stray dog?", his reassuring comment wasn't going to be enough.

However, Kale wasn't helping. "Well....a few people did see what came out of the tent, they saw it chase a cat all over the event field. It looked a tiny baby wolf in a chiton? I mean what kind of depraved jerk would put clothes on a wolf?". This was the final nail in the coffin, at least for Dionysus's chances of sleeping in the same villa as Ariadne.

She let out a huff, crossed her arms and crossed her legs. "What is going on Dionysus,I thought I told you not to go on with this whole thing if you KNEW if there were those beasts out there.", she was stern and her eyes could be comparable to Hera's stare of marital disappointment.

Dionysus, tried to avoid the conversation and sipped his kylix. He looked off to the side like a child who did something wrong. Hermes entered into the conversation, "Ugh to be fair, it was a BABY...and..ugh...there was just one...so...ugh...I guess it didn't do anything.", Inspite of this argument, he knew this meant that there was definitely more if these wolf creatures. "Ugh...you didn't see where it went...did you?", he asked Kale.

Scratching his meticulously groomed goatee, Kale nodded 'yes', 'I believe some of the attendees saw it run off into the field or "something" of that direction.", he replied.

Dionysus leaped up, "than it's gone! Good, let's all just hit the hay and get some sleep!", he spoke in a happy voice of a man who knew he was in deep trouble. He felt Ariadne gently pull his ear, his body flowed to the direction of Ariadne.

She gave that small smile that deceptively masked her frustration, "Dio... sweetie......you're sleeping with the leopards....not for a wekk....but for a month.", she gently whispered in his ear, patted him on his face. Regardless if she was angry with Dionysus, it seemed by the end of the day no one actually got hurt. She turn around to walk back home, "Goodnight, gentlemen.", she left right back.

The four gentlemen were all standing by themselves watching Ariadne leave, Apollo sighed and turned to Dionysus. "So....where do the leopards sleep?", he asked Dionysus.

Dionysus stared at Ariadne with loving relief. "Well, they sleep....that way.", he pointed towards the dimly lit forested yard were many of his leopards roamed freely. He scratched his chin, satisfied with the whole situation, it could have been worse yet it could have been better. Now his only priority, is to find a soft place to sleep. Before he did so, he turned to Kale and his brothers. "Kale, tell NO ONE of this weird dog shit, deny EVERYTHING and ugh....tell anyone who asked it was leopard. Hermes, Apollo, tommorow....we go and talk to dad about this. Now...I'm going to get serious.", as he said this, tripped on a raised rug and fell over on a pile of lounge pillow. "I'm ok... actually this is pretty comfy....", he muffled.

Apollo and Hermes looked down at Dionysus, wondering if they should help, but there's a likely chance he probably has already dosed off.