#chat have we considered this armor

[eva-taash]

The Veilguard : Taash 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦

[arolesbianism]

It's so fun imagining your ocs as ds mod characters... I want Sier to go to the constant and immediately fall over and die because they can't listen to music

[scuderiahalf]

brother's prejudice — max fewtrell

pairings. max fewtrell x norris!fem!reader, lando norris x twin!fem!reader

summary. you have always been happy to support lando in any way you can but when he can't give that same support back when your relationship with his best friend is revealed, you're left wondering if your relationship with your twin brother will ever be the same. 4.2k, 18+

playlist. "idfc" by blackbear, "the heart wants what it wants" by selena gomez, "our song" by taylor swift, "it will come back" by hozier, "make me like you" by gwen stefani

warnings. lando's a bit of a dick but he makes up for it, censored oral (male receiving)

masterlist.

. . .

"Do you want me to suck your dick or do you want to watch Markiplier?"

"Do you want an honest answer?"

You huffed, and started to get out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

"No, baby, I'm just kidding."

Max grabbed hold of your hand before you even fully got to your feet. He tugged you back onto the mattress, pushed you down and hovered over you.

"You're too late. The moment is gone," you said.

"I'm sorry."

He tried to kiss you but only got your cheek when you turned your head to the side.

"Baby, don't be like that. C'mon."

He kissed your neck and your breath caught in your throat because you were just a girl. You were just a weak girl when it came to Max.

"I love you," he said into the skin of your neck.

"Hm," you pretended to consider it, "Apology accepted. Lay down, drama queen."

You pushed at Max's shoulder and he let you get on top of him. You grabbed a hair tie from the nightstand to pull your hair back with.

Max let his hands slide under your shirt—which was actually his shirt, which was why he was only in his sleep shorts at the moment. He freely let himself feel you up as you tied your hair up, squeezing your thighs and hips, your ass and up to your boobs.

"You've got to stop groping me if you want me to give you a blowjob."

"But you know how much I love groping you."

You laughed and pulled his hands out of your shirt. You intertwined your fingers with his, leaned down to kiss his nose.

"You're really making it seem like you don't want me to suck you off."

"I never said that."

You kissed the knuckles on each of Max's hands before shimmying further down the bed, pulling the blankets with you. Soon, the only sounds in the room were Max's sighs of pleasure and the lewd, wet noises coming from your mouth.

Then, someone with the spare keycard to Max's hotel room unlocked the door and entered without knocking.

"Max, mate, the plane's leaving at ten, not eleven, apparently. I tried texting you in the group chat but—what. The. Fuck."

Thank god Lando was a naturally loud individual, giving just enough time for you to sit up and wipe your mouth, for Max to pull his shorts back up. You both faced Lando with similar caught expressions, still tangled up in bed together but thankfully without your lips currently around Max’s dick.

"Are you actually kidding me? My sister? What the fuck, mate?"

You jumped in to try and defuse the situation before it escalated. "Lando, just wait a second. Let me explain—"

Lando cut you a harsh glare. "I'm not fucking talking to you. We can talk about you acting like a slag later."

You drew back, more than a little hurt at your twin's words and the tone in which he said them.

"Don't talk to her like that," Max stood up for you.

"That's really what you're worried about right now?"

"That you're calling your sister a slag? Yeah, it is."

"What the fuck is going on? You get busy with the one girl that has always been off limits and you think you're some sort of knight in shining armor?"

"Let's just all wait a second. Yeah? Let's just take a breath."

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“Lando, if you think—“

“Please don’t argue, Max—“

“He’s being a fucking dick to you, Y/N—“

“I’m being the dick? You’re shagging my sister—“

“That’s no excuse to talk to her like that—“

“It’s not like that—“

“How long has this been going on?”

“Lando, just listen—“

“Ten months.”

You close your eyes.

“TEN MONTHS!”

The flight back home was going to be a long one.

.

“You really don’t have to come.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“No, I do but… Lando is going to be there.”

“And you don’t trust him not to cause a scene?”

“I don’t know if I trust either of you not to get into a shouting match in front of our parents.”

You were already dressed and ready to go to your parents for dinner. You sat on the bathroom counter as Max finished getting ready. He was fixing his hair, the last step before he would be done, also.

You watched as the gentle, concentrated furrow in his brow deepened to one of anger. “He called you a slag, Y/N. I don’t care if he’s your brother; that’s not okay.”

“He said I was acting like a slag—“

“Same difference.”

“—and he didn’t mean it. He was just caught off guard. I did go behind his back…”

“Don’t paint him as the victim. Admittedly, we probably should have told him sooner but that doesn’t mean he gets it be a dick about it.”

Max momentarily abandoned his hair to squeeze your knee.

“You have to stop making excuses for him.”

“He’s my brother.”

“And he has always walked all over you. When was the last time he properly apologized to you for anything?"

“Max…”

This wasn’t the first time Max had brought this up and every time, you deflected or excused everything Max tried to shine a light on. Lando was Max’s best friend but he was your brother, your twin brother. You had never not known him.

Lando was integral in who you were as a person. You were made as a pair. You grew up as a pair. You had always had each other. He was your built in best friend. You always had his back, no matter what.

If you were a pushover, if you let Lando tease you and speak to you in ways you’d never let anyone else, if you tolerated things from him you that you shouldn’t, then that was your decision.

Max didn’t understand that. He didn’t seem capable of understanding the complex workings of your relationship with your twin. You would do anything for Lando, regardless of what it would mean for you, and you were fine with that.

That was how it had always been: Lando, the showman, and you, the supportive sister. Even back when you were karting together, Lando was out front and you were playing defense to protect his position.

You celebrated his victories more than you ever celebrated your own but that was fine. He was your brother and you loved him.

“Okay, fine. Whatever,” Max relented on that front. “But this is a step too far. He doesn’t get to act like a petulant little kid because I’m dating you. Calling you names and running away to Monaco when he’s meant to be filming with Quadrant. He’s being ridiculous.”

Some part of you knew the punishment of Lando ignoring you for the past month didn’t fit the crime of not telling him you were dating Max. The bigger, more conscious part of you felt like carving “traitor” into your forearm with a steak knife and hoping the pain would make your brother forgive you.

Your messages to Lando had become a wall of blue, full of apologies, begging to let you explain, attempts at striking up a conversation like normal, asking if he had meant to cancel your plane ticket to the Azerbaijan Grand Prix followed by even more apologies and then congratulations on a race well done.

You played with your fingers the whole car ride. Max reached over at one point after you had started picking at your cuticles to kiss the back of your hand and hold it the rest of the way, making idle talk that did nothing to distract you from what you were headed towards.

After Lando found you two in Max’s hotel room and the ensuing argument got heated on both of the boys’ sides, Max stayed with you for a few days. When he finally went back to his and Lando’s London flat hoping to talk things out before filming for Quadrant, Lando had cleared out.

He posted a rather passive aggressive Instagram story a few days later about “real friends” featuring some other F1 drivers all holding padel rackets. Max had not been happy when he found you torn up over it, shedding tears over the fear that you had lost your brother.

You had always been sensitive. Quick to cry, quick to care, quick to get attached, quick to get hurt. Lando poked fun at you for it your entire lives but he was also the first to jump in and defend you whenever anyone else said anything to you.

Lando’s distance over the last few weeks hurt. Like, physically hurt. You would see something that you thought he would find funny and go to text him about it just to remember he was giving you the silent treatment and your chest would hurt for the next several hours as you waited on a reply that never came.

Despite it all, when you saw Lando stood in the kitchen with your mom, the first time you had seen him in over three weeks, you couldn't help but smile.

He was halfway to returning it, as if on instinct alone. Then, he noticed Max at your back and his face fell devoid of any sort of pleased emotion. Your own smile fell, chest starting to ache again.

“Y/N darling, there you are.” Your mom came over to hug you and kiss your cheek, then did the same to Max. “And Max! Your best be treating my girl right.”

"Of course, Mrs Norris."

"Stop it with that; I've told you to call me Cisca."

"Mum knows?" Lando said. "You already told mum? Did she know before I did?"

You drew a sharp breath. It was difficult to talk to Lando when his tone was both wounded and accusatory.

"She called me not long after you boys had your spat," your mom explained, "Told me all about her and Max and I couldn't be more pleased. I always knew you fancied him, Y/N, even back in your karting days."

"Muuuum," you groaned, embarrassed even if Max already knew how long you had been crushing on him.

Max laughed and kissed your cheek. "The Shield fancied me."

"Shut up."

“The Shield” was the cringe-worthy nickname that karting media outlets had given you back in the day on account of how difficult it was to overtake you. So much of your karting career had been defense for Lando but you always felt a little victorious whenever you made a boy mad about getting beat by you simply because he couldn't get around you.

You could have gone far in racing if you hadn't quit after a single season of F4.

Lando gagged at Max's display of affection.

Max zeroed in on him, eyes sharp and mouth opening to call him out. You caught his shirt between your fingers, silently reminding him that he had promised not to start a fight. He looked mighty unhappy about it, but Max let his chest deflate and followed you into the dining room to help your other siblings set the table.

Ten minutes later, you all sat down to eat.

This was not the first time Max had dinner with your family. It had become such a common occurrence that it didn't cross any of your minds that your typical seating arrangement had your dad at one head of the table, your mom at the other, your older brother and sisters on one side, and you, Lando, and Max on the other, in that order, always with Lando between you.

Even dating Max, you didn’t think to sit next to him because that was Lando’s seat. It didn’t even cross your mind that it might not have been the best decision to sit your twin next to his best friend who had gone behind his back to date you for months without telling him but it was too late for that.

Lando was the last to sit down after going to retrieve the forgotten napkins. You considered swapping seats last minute as he hesitated over the dining room threshold, then thought better of making a scene and resigned yourself to a torturous dinner without being able to hold Max's hand through it all.

After getting caught by Lando, you had told your mom about you and Max. She had obviously clued your father in but you weren't sure which of your siblings knew the full extent of what went down when Lando found out.

Oliver and Cisca seemed oblivious enough, even if they were casting confused glances at you, Lando and, Max, trying to figure out why the three of you weren't speaking to each other. However, Flo was keeping an awfully watchful eye on your twin and boyfriend, as though waiting for the show to begin.

Table talk was casual and nearly pleasant. With Lando uncharacteristically silent beside you, and Max refusing to so much as look at his best friend, you couldn't fully enjoy spending time with your family while they were all together.

Max caught your eye behind Lando. He gave you a smile, one you couldn't quite return. Lando leaned back and got in the way of your eyeline to Max. You turned back to your food, continuing to pick at the delicious pork your mom had cooked but not able to enjoy it.

"Max, what of you?"

"Sorry?" Max was about as clueless to the conversation at hand as you were.

"Do you have plans to visit Monaco any more this year?"

They must have been talking about the trip your parents and youngest sister would be taking to Monaco during Cisca's summer break. You had planned on taking time off work to go with them, as well as with Max later in the year, closer to the end of the F1 season to attend a few races and help film some Quadrant content.

"Are you and Y/N going sometime together, possibly?"

It was a harmless enough suggestion from your mother. She probably only wanted to try and get Lando and Max to say a word to each other.

Then, despite having already agreed to house both of you later in the year, Lando said, "They haven't mentioned anything."

You really were not enjoying this dinner.

It was getting harder and harder to have all your siblings in the same place as you all got older. Only Cisca lived at home now and she was going off to uni in Manchester next year.

You missed when being with your family was easy, when you didn't even have to think about it. You missed your childhood bedroom that was now the second guest bedroom, your and Lando's bunk beds long gone.

You missed your brother terribly, even if it had only been about three and a half weeks since contact was cut. You didn't want to lose him to something like this but at the same time, you couldn't imagine letting Max go.

Max made you so happy. Couldn't Lando see that? Couldn't he see how in love you were? Couldn't he accept your and Max's relationship for the sake of not wanting to lose his twin sister and best friend?

You would do anything for Lando. You had given up so much for him. You supported him at every twist and turn of your lives. You just wanted things to be okay again.

"Y/N darling, what’s wrong?"

Your mom’s question was quiet, meant to not attract anyone’s attention. But Lando and Max were both quiet, too, in unsettling amounts from the two of them. They both looked at you just in time to see you wiping at your cheek.

"I'm fine."

Except you weren't fine. You were sad and nostalgic and sick of feeling that way and now you were all teary. You just wanted a nice dinner with your family where the two men you loved most in the world acted normal and you didn't start randomly crying at the dining table.

Lando put his hand on your arm. "Y/N/N, are you alright?"

Like his touch finally shook loose something inside you that you had been holding back since the hotel argument or maybe even longer, you rounded on your twin brother.

"No, I'm not alright! How could I be alright when you're acting like this?"

Lando immediately threw his walls back up, going on defense. "You and Max went behind my back."

"And that means you get to throw a month long hissy fit over it?"

"You've been dating for ten months!"

"It's actually eleven, now, mate."

Lando turned to shoot a glare at your boyfriend. "Shut up, Max."

"Stop being a dick, Lando! Just stop! Yes, we should have told you sooner. Yes, I'm sorry you found out like you did. But that doesn't mean you get to treat me, treat us like this."

"How am I supposed to react?"

"You're supposed to get over the initial shock and be happy that two of the people you care about are happy together."

(On the other side of the table, Cisca leaned closer to Oliver. "When did Y/N and Max start dating?"

"I think he said eleven months ago."

"That long and they haven't told us?"

Flo shushed them both. "Shut up; I'm trying to watch.")

"How am I meant to be happy about you two lying to me for the last year?" Lando demanded.

"I have been trying to apologize and talk to you about that for the last month and you haven't let me! You ran off to Monaco, ditched your Quadrant responsibilities, and left me thinking that I'd ruined things forever. That's such a dick move, Lando! Fuck—"

You were crying again. You wiped angrily at your cheeks, wanting to be taken seriously and get your point across but it was difficult when you had tears running down your face.

"You can't just ditch me like that when things get rough. It's not fair when I've been there with you through everything. I have never not supported you. I have always been there for you. I quit racing so that you wouldn't get passed over. But the second I do something you don't like, you can't give me even an ounce of support in return."

"What do you mean you quit racing so I wouldn't get passed over?"

Your chest went still, blood running cold. Shit. Shit shit shit, Lando was never meant to know about that. You had never planned on telling him. Never ever. Not even when you were old and saggy and there would be no consequences. You were meant to take that secret to the grave.

"That's not what's important. I don't understand—"

"What did you mean, Y/N?"

You gulped. "It's nothing. It was a long time ago, anyway. It doesn't matter."

"Y/N."

.

"Me? You want to sign me?"

The Josef Kaufmann Racing representative grinned at your bewilderment. "Yes, you."

"No way. Are you serious?"

"Completely. It obviously won't be set in stone today and we'll need to speak with your parent or guardian but Carlin would be lucky to have you on our roster next season."

"Oh my god. No way!"

You had been worried about next season as all the 2015 series were nearing their ends and you had yet to have been scouted by any teams. Your contract with Mücke Motorsport was coming to an end after this season but now you had been offered a seat in the next level of racing, at the same team your brother was in talks with, no less.

"Oh, this is great! Lando and I will still be on the same team. You know, my brother and I have always walked about being on the same F1 team. That would be crazy, obviously, but this is just like that but on a smaller scale."

"We'd not be giving your brother a seat."

Your excitement was gone in an instant. "Sorry?"

"Lando wouldn't have the seat in Formula Renault. It would be yours, instead."

"You're offering me... my brother's seat."

"That is correct."

Just like that, you let your career die. "I don't want it, then."

The rep blinked at you. "What?"

"Give the seat to Lando. He's who you want. He's the better driver. He has always finished before me."

"He would not have if you were not defending his position. Josef Kaufmann would rather have you driving for them next year."

"I don't want the seat. Give it to Lando. I was planning on quitting racing, anyway. Sign Lando for next year. He'll do well for you."

.

"Y/N, what the actual fuck?"

You ducked your head. "Don't blow it out of proportion."

"You gave away you entire racing career at the drop of a hat because you didn't want to take a seat that I hadn't even been signed for yet? You— Why would you do that?"

"Because you're my brother."

Behind Lando, Max was staring at you, wide-eyed. All around the table, your family openly stared at you in shock, not quite able to believe the real reason you had suddenly dropped out of racing.

The reason you had given was that you had gotten bored of it. That you had only ever gotten into it because of Lando. That you didn’t want to constantly be in competition with your brother. That when Lando got famous, you didn’t want to be his lesser racing counterpart.

There may have been some truth in those excuses but the whole truth was this: you had been offered the seat Lando was negotiating for and you would not take it from him. You loved racing; you did not love it more than you loved your brother.

“Y/N, I… I honestly don’t even know what to say.”

“You could start with an apology,” Max offered.

“To both of us,” you added.

Max leaned back in his chair. “I’m good back here. Worry about me later.”

“No, she’s right,” Lando said. “I’ve been a real dick to both of you over the last few weeks. You guys didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve always had Max as my chosen best friend and you, Y/N, as my built in best friend but then you guys started getting closer. Then, I found out you’re together and it’s like, what do you need me for if you have each other?”

Any anger you may have been holding onto melted into sympathy. “Aw, Lando—“

“You are so fucking thick, mate,” Max cut in. “You think I’m going to treat my girlfriend the same way I treat your dumbass? I need a platonic best friend just as much as I need a romantic one.”

You laughed at the face Lando pulled.

“If you start referring to us as your platonic and romantic best friends, I’m fleeing to Monaco again.”

“It’s too late. It’s already started, platonic best friend.”

“Eugh, this is terrible. Go back to being awkward acquaintances, please.”

“I love her, mate. There’s no going back from that.”

You loved Max. Wholly and truly you did. How well he got along with Lando was just the icing on the cake, another thing to add onto the list of reasons you were stupidly in love with him.

Your lovesick expression must have been quite obvious because suddenly Lando was shoving your head to the side with a hand over your face.

“Oh my god, don’t look at him like that—I’m gonna barf.”

(Oliver had gone back to his food.

Cisca was still watching, confused. “Wait, so Y/N and Max have been dating for eleven months and not even Lando knew? Why?”

“Apparently, it was an oversight.”

Flo speared an asparagus. “This is better than any TV show I’ve watched all year.”

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Oliver said.

“I’m the only one enjoying this the correct amount. I’ve been waiting for Lando to stop cockblocking Y/N and Max since 2014. I am allowed to be entertained by their drama.”)

“Can we circle back to the whole quit racing because of Lando thing?” Max asked, “Because what the fuck, babe?”

“You quit racing, too!”

“Because I was burnt out, not because I would rather throw my entire career away than make my brother momentarily unhappy while other teams jumped at the opportunity to sign him up.”

“It’s fine! I mean, look at where Lando is now. Season number five of Formula One! It all worked out in the end.”

.

“Are you really okay with us being together?”

You stood outside with Lando and Max after dinner had finished up. Your parents were loading the dishwasher, Oliver was driving off down the street, and Flo was finishing up doing something with Cisca inside. The three of you were finally able to talk privately.

Lando was quiet for a while after your question. He still seemed a little hesitant but it wasn’t anywhere near how he had reacted in the hotel. He glanced down at where you were holding Max’s hand, then looked away, still thinking.

“You’re not allowed to have sex while I’m in the flat,” is what Lando eventually decided on saying.

Max, unimpressed, said, “It’s a bit late for that, mate.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, covering your face with your hands.

Lando yelled his displeasure quite loudly. Max just laughed at him, not at all apologetic.

Even if your face was burning, at least you knew things would be okay. You had your brother back. Max had his best friend back. And Lando had both of you back.

The three of you were messy and intertwined but you would be okay.

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬:

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This was inspired by a chat between me & a fellow requester @originalgothhoagiefish-blog. My tumbler master list looks like a mess, but I'm trying to get placement right.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: What happens when you bite your god-like mosquito back during heated times?

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k.

TW // Smut, Clothed, Bulge, Biting.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°|

Your angel was hungry, you can see it in his eyes; the way his angelic wings give a minuscule twitch. How his eyes keep glancing at you, wishing for a bite, and if he was lucky enough… something more. He cannot act on his needs at the moment: he’s caught up in some planetary business that he (and the whole legion) has chosen to leave you out of, but you could. You could sedate him for a bit. Give him something to drink.

“We need—” You move just a bit, gaining the attention of some of the blood angels that guard you, and well… the attention of your spouse. You know you’re causing some type of interruption with your presence just standing there, wanting to at least get to wander about. You get some looks for it: from the opposing planet, but you are undeterred. You trust your lovely legion of mosquitoes to bleed them dry if needed.

You move again and gain a bit more than just looks. You can feel the heat of jealousy burn into your skin, trying to get to your singular heart while you make your way out of the room without being dismissed. You’re sure you would get some snarky remarks about it, but they were in your lovers' domain, not their own. They should know how to act considering they were all mostly nobles.

“My Lady,” One of your sons interrupt you, following you out of the room. Leaving his other brother to observe. His steps heavy but light at the same time with his armor on. “Where are you going?”

“Your father is hungry.” You simply point out what you have seen; singled out and have a very good feeling having understanding on. “So are you.”

“I am not.” The son denies, shaking his helmet. You don’t have to look behind you to know that he was. You, however, were no commoner to your lovers’ needs, nor to his legion. You were here long enough to understand their... cues of peculiar hunger.

“Do not deny the truth Son of The Angel.” You muse, giving him a glance behind you. It was amusing how some of them still act a bit childish and refuse things. One would think the children of the stars would be much more… stoic; formal perhaps. Yet they have their moments when they reminded you of complete children.

“I do not deny, my lady.” He huffs, and it’s just amuses you even more. He was— is food angry. “I’m simply… irritated.”

“Irritated.” You repeat his word with a hum. He didn’t want to act nor admit he was hungry, just like his father. They always get a bit grumpy without something to feed them. “Then perhaps you wouldn’t be swayed with my offered blood?”

You’re quick with it, taking your defense dagger from your waist and slicing the palm of your hand of it before turning around on your heel and presenting your now bleeding palm to the son. Your hand in a slight cupped formation to keep your own blood from wasting to the ground.

“My lady…”

“Do not refuse what is generously offered, it is rude.” You are also quick on your tongue, interrupting the loyal son. Your bloody hand moving a bit as if to urge them to drink from your lifeline that slowly pours from your hand and down your arm.

“I… your blood should only be offered to our father…” He tries to deny you again, but he’s lured in. He’s leaning in closer to your offered hand. He can’t resist his hunger to feed like most others could. He is a younger Astartes, but you don't blame him for it.

“Hmm, perhaps.” You hum, feeling how your own blood pools in your hand, slowly slipping through your fingers. “But I’m offering you. Do not deny it.”

He sighs at you: a heavy one. His gauntlet coming up to his helmet and taking it off himself. A beautiful shade of dark green appearing as his eyes then the bright blonde as his wavy hair: the length of it is to his shoulder blades or rather pauldron. A few scars littering his face, but he still had those young, youthful features. (Not like the whole legion didn’t.)

“You, are as handsome as your father.” You complement the hesitant Blood Angel. He probably doesn’t want to drink from you because of your status. Doesn’t want to drink what is his Primarchs, and you can't really blame him on that either. You wouldn't want to eat the alphas food either.

However, your husband can make an exception.

"Are you sure my lady?" He asks for your word, your permission. His gauntlet coming forward to grasp at your hand. Stabilizing it for him to drink. It's a cute, small step forward for the young one to resist temptations. "I don't want to be... punished for it."

Oh, how adorable the sons were. Allways asking for permission. Well, almost always. You've heard how they weren't merciful sometimes, and you suppose it's a hard truth to learn of them, or easy. Depending on the person.

"Would you be punished if I was simply offering?" You ask him, moving your fingers a bit as the blood goes down onto his gauntlet. His eyes never leaving your crimson stained hand. "I am giving it to you freely."

"I... suppose not." He sighs, finally leaning a bit down to give your hand and inhale. His tongue liking at his lips before he gives in. The heat of his appendage giving a long lick to your palm. His tongue curling, acting like some sort of spoon to get more blood piled up in his mouth. His fangs barely brushing over the skin of your palm.

It was almost strange. To feel the differences between son and father. At least tongue wise as this sons' tongue was like a cats', yet it's a bit smoother. Sanguinius? His was smooth but had more heat to it. You guess it's because he most drank from you when he was really needy...

After a moment, he releases your wrist as gently as possible. His tongue swirling in his mouth as he moves his hand to cover his lips as if this would require some form of adequate. His eyes looking away from you with a slight blush to his cheeks. "I can see why father chosen you as the legion mother..."

You smile at him, amused and knowing. You know your blood attracts some mosquitoes more than most. Your hand returning back to your side. He has cleaned your hand quite well...

"Hmm, then I suppose you would not mind deliver something to your father; offer for an offer?" You ask the son, pressing on your wounded palm slightly. Watching a bit more blood leaving the slit.

"Of course, it's only reasonable my lady."

You're back in Sanguinius quarters but the time your... package has been sent to him. Your hands are busy wrapping up your own hand that you injured for the sake of feeding the Sons of The Angel. A small, humming tune leaving you as you tend to the wound.

You wonder if Sanguinius would like your small, editable gift? It was in small quantities, but you wanted your husband to be enriched and not be bored of the nobles that are no doubt talking nonsense, because you know in experience, they like to talk in laughing wealth... or at least those ones do. They never like to do dealings with you... which may lead to their downfall.

You jump a bit when the doors of Sanguinius quarters open. Your eyes giving a brief glance outside. You would have thought he wouldn't have arrived back until dusk, but you suppose not all comes to plan.

"My love, you didn't have to enlighten me with your own blood." Is the first thing that leaves Sanguinius mouth. His clothed form briskly walking to your side, as if he was impatient. His wings fluttering behind him. His eyes staying on you once they land on you: sitting down and wrapping up your hand.

Oh, yeah, he is definitely impatient.

"Oh? So, you knew it was my blood?" You muse, returning to wrapping up your palm. A little embarrassed to look at him now. How could you? You might have just done something brave, but incredibly stupid. Might of. You're not too sure. Would he scold you for it?

"How could I not?" He inhales. His lips suddenly close to your neck and it makes your heart pulse. His hands moving anything from shoulder from obstructing what he wants. "Your blood is my addiction; my own life as it is the legions..."

His chest is pressed up behind you as he leans down to cover you in his shadow. His own hand slowly coming do to grasp at your wrist with the bandages around it. The huge, obvious size difference was always remarkable to you.

"You fed the sons as you fed me." He hums, his lips pressing into your neck and you can't help but give him more access. Your body leaning back into him. "Generous of you, even if we didn't need it."

"Oh, please." You scoff, amused. Flipping your wrapped hand in his, tracing your fingers in his palm. "You were hungry."

"And I," He pauses, musing with you. Kissing you on the cheek as his arms wrap around you. His nose nuzzling into your neck, inhaling again before he suddenly lifts you up from the chair. A surprised yelp of his name falling through your lips as you squirm in his hold. "Still am."

"Sanguinus!" You gasp his name again, your body plopping down into the soft sheets of his bed with him directly on top of you. His hands wrapping around your waist with unnatural ease. Silently telling you just how much he could just take you; ragdoll you as his lips attack your neck. No doubt enjoying how your veins pluses a bit quicker when he excites you; teases you.

"You had no need to feed me when I can have you here; fully." He chuckles into your neck, sending a bit of a vibrations through you at the closeness. His wings behind him spreading out, covering you in his shadow, his scent, him. His hands on your waist keeping you in place for him to enjoy what is beneath him.

"Did... did you like what I have given you?" You ask a bit hesitantly, moving your own hands to his body. Your fingers tracing every outline you can find on the top half of his torso. You were afraid you might get some form of judgment from him.

"I wanted to leave the room once my tongue touched the thickness of your blood in that glass." He groans quietly, inhaling deeply again. His body shifting a bit above you while one of his hands wander just a bit lower... "I truly wonder if you were teasing me."

"Me? Never." You purr slightly out to him, enjoying his wandering his hands. You didn't want to make it sound like you were teasing him, and you weren't, it wasn't intended, but you wouldn't be opposed to be testing a Primarchs' limits in different ways besides the intensity of chaos.

"Oh, really?" He rumbles amusingly, his eyes trailing over your face. His mouth hanging open to slide his fangs over your neck, teasing you. Your body giving a shiver at the feeling as you really didn't know when he would bite you. He liked to be a bit mysterious on it.

"Really." You simply confirm, sliding one of your fingers under the waist band of his clothing, touching the bare skin of him at his v-line. His fangs, and a huff of his hot breath warning you by your neck, confining with you.

He was losing his patience ever slowly with you.

"Then I don't believe you are teasing me now, are you?" He hums, switching to give your neck a kiss again. His eyes hooded in a tired lure while his waist thrusts forward a little, urging your hands to go further down his waist. Teasing the both of you as your fingernails gently claw above where the both of you want.

"Certainly n-not- Sanguinus!"

He laughs lowly at your yelp as he gave a nip to your collar bone, drawing a very small amount of blood to taste you once more. He wants to savor the source of his food, his drink. He want's your fulfilling warmth of your blood, of you. He wants you.

His fangs trace your neck, slowly feeling how your skin twitches and pluses underneath his lips as he occasionally giving you kisses, prepping you for him to feast. One of his hands shifting to move yours a bit lower on him. Where you can feel the thickness of him and his heat. A low grunt leaving him while he has to restrain himself from about wreaking you for the next weeks to come. That is, if he doesn't drink you to exhaustion first.

Your hands grasp at him, slowly teasing him, pumping him up and down. It should have been impossible for you to do so because of his height but with the way he practically curls around you for your touch, it was not, and sometimes? You curse at yourself for your smaller height, feeling bad for your lover having to curl around you for the simplicity of intimacy, but oh... It makes things feel deliciously bigger; thicker.

You shutter a gasp when his fangs slowly pierce your skin. Hands grasping his length a bit harder while you try accommodate to the slight pain that stings you. Your nose slightly nuzzling into his jawline as you feel him drink from you. A little, satisfied hum leaving him as he swallows, even gracefully in these heated times. His waist thrusting slightly as his length in your hands moves for you.

"Sanguinus..." You sigh into him, your mind filled with unholy thoughts of him. How he would- will take you. How he would leave you weak and submissive for him to use to his pleasure. How his cock would fill you with overwhelming efficiency, touching all the sweet spots only he knows about.

He hums at you, louder to acknowledge your wants. His body shifting above you while he still drinks from you. Position himself to where you wanted him. Your hands helping him find his mark, just above your core. You're still clothed, but that's what the zippers and openings on the bottom's of the dresses are for. For your lover to fuck you good all while trying to keep up a professional and neat image.

Your body shutters while you lead him inside of you. Bursts of shorts breaths leaving you as you can feel his length slowly fill you. A slight bulge appearing on your skin where he sits himself inside your walls. Moans leaving the both of you when your walls tighten around him, and you can't but help to think of biting your lover back. It sounds appealing to you in your mind. Your body curling more into him, getting closer to him as he moves with you to continually feed on you.

His gives a small, testing thrust inside of you. Exciting another gasp from you while you move closer to his shoulder, your breath painting his own clothing. Your hands moving to grasp at his shoulders as he always felt a bit overwhelming when he was inside of you at first. You were still trying to accommodate him, but each growing second grew more pleasurable.

A whiny-like moan leaves you when he thrusts again. Hands desperately grasping at him now as the combined efforts of giving you pleasure and drinking from you was a pleasurable overkill for your sensitive nerves. Your own teeth brushing over his neck, and you can tell he froze for a second; pausing his drinking but keeping his fangs fit into your neck.

That, is when you gently bite into him yourself. Your teeth latching onto him gently on his collar bone: voided of his clothing. You bit him gently enough that wouldn't cause a mark, even if you knew how hard you had to bite him for anything to be done to him, it wouldn't cause anything to him, but in heated times? It was like activating his carnality card.

He is quick to move, unlatching from your neck and giving it a reassuring lick before he's hovering above you again. His hands settling on your thighs, giving you slow, rolling thrusts that were repetitive. It has you arching your back into the sheets with your hands grasping at his on your thighs. Mewls leaving you as he ever slowly goes faster and faster. Loosing himself: losing his resolve with you. Quiet grunts and growls leaving him while he keeps readjusting his hands on your thighs to your waist to keep you in place on his cock. His wings behind him moving and fluttering with his rabid thrusts.

Perhaps, you should bite him a bit more often? Maybe offer some surprising drinks of your blood too? It was certainly an experience, and a chance for you to be bedridden for a couple of weeks.

[eobe]

You are reborn into the Star Wars universe, in a time, place, and family of your choosing. You retain all of your knowledge of canon events, and could change their outcome if you so chose. What do you do?

an unforeseen writing escalation. If you‘ve been tagged and don’t want to read – ignore 😂🫶

Oh kriff, what did I do to deserve that.

That’s what I asked myself, CT-1618, since I got fragment by fragment of the memories of my former life on a strange planet in a galaxy that far away, that my soul travelled not only through space, but also through time.

And Maker, this is kark. If I don‘t want to be decommissioned by first chance, I had to keep my mouth shut and my head down. If I had to speak, then well-considered. The silent, broody cadet with the ongoing frown and the crossed arms, that was me.

I almost enjoyed everyone getting calm and my clone brothers‘ full attention when I finally had something to say. So time came to use that for a greater good.

Down in the barracks after curfew I hesitated over-notable to make my batch vode curious and then I started cautiously asking them what they think about „The Mission“ – the one of our nightmares.

Either I had luck or it was easier than I thought to get them started to think individually. I recognized my chance to change things with patience, if I manage to spread some tiny well placed seeds without getting caught – and to get some tiny well placed stones into rolling.

Even as a single clone trooper I could try to find evidence. I only needed skills to get my chance, so I specialized on coding and data decryption and also spread cautiously word about my interests and achievements to get support from my superiors. It worked – I got qualified for ARC training.

I also noticed the rumor about „The Mission“ being not only a strange clone thing but something possibly dangerous made the round, also some more triggers I set, like that we‘re more than just numbers.

I asked my trusted vode to tell me if they heard news about the rumors other clones maybe whispering behind hands about things I started. I always had only one back question: „Did they mention me?“ Luckily never. My brothers mocked me being that nervous. „Vod, calm down. Source unknown as always.“

I felt a little hope the first time a stranger clone in the 79s chatted with me and after some time and drinks he hesitated with a calculating glance and asked with lowered voice what I think of those rumors about „The Mission“ – that one from our nightmares. I couldn’t hold back a small chuckle but answered well-considered as usual.

I collected and encrypted every data I could find, also tracking the reports of the 501st to stay tuned. Did little hacking attacks and got better. Being a silent and specialized ARC trooper in the 41st Elite Corps allowed me to broaden my network, but my connections and attempts to get through the security walls of Serenno for the chips‘ data went dangerously wrong.

My closest vode shivered with me as we heard talking our superiors about Serenno being cyber attacked – from our position. Kark, the seppies seem to have a new specialist.

„Do we know the source?“ My batch brother Forest asked – perfectly hiding that he knows the source better than he liked in this moment.

They didn‘t find the source. But I found something.

__

„Name and number, trooper!“

Done. The day and the moment had come and I was absolutely done, but I might have now the tiniest and silliest chance to change a really big event in the timeline!

I had lurked in the 79s, looking for some blue markings on armor to grab myself some key figures, but I had to run into the Marshal Commander of Coruscant himself. Literally.

And spilled his caf all over his spotless armor.

Kriff, maybe I was only done, but I have to try my luck for the sake of the whole karking galaxy.

„ARC-1618! Name‘s Source, Sir and I‘m incredibly sorry, Sir…“ I rambled? knowing that not only my own poor life depends on.

The first time in my life I babbled like the most talkative brother of my Squad (named Text, no kidding) and it was important to do so and to make it right – I had a plan that requires proper acting.

I had absolutely no problem to show my sweating nervousness and shrinked under the seething glare of the elder clone and finally sweared, that I‘ll spend him a caf every time when I see him – Pause for effect and dramatic gasp (for this one I imagined my big brother Voice the one time the bulky clone actually got unsettled) – then I widened my eyes like in shock, like realizing what I just said and I froze my body like prey that got caught and hoped that I just had managed my masterpiece.

And Dank Farrik, it worked. I knew that I had won in the very moment that I saw a slightly mad glint lighten up in the furious eyes of Coruscant‘s head and an actually scary grin showing the canine teeth, all the older and greying Commanders seem to share.

My heart and my brain were racing on my way to order the maybe most important caf in the whole galaxy and as I sat down at the table with the waiting Commander, who tried to hide his amusement I had the feeling that I truly got a chance now.

So I started to track the schedules and reports of the Coruscant Guard and „stumbled“ over Commander Fox as often as possible, without making the tired but sly man suspicious. We fastly got into really good caf talks and so one day I dared my luck, making the older clone curious with showing in a matter of fact truly undecided and hesitating.

l leaned a bit over the table, shooting a short look left and right and asked with lowered voice „Sir… may I ask you a question? I heared rumors and maybe the Marshal Commander is able to clear that.“

Fox raised an eyebrow with an asking glance.

I took a deep breath.

��What do you think about… The Mission? You know, the one of our nightmares.“

Great, I escalated 🙈 Thank you for the inspiration, dearest Anon. I‘m not a writer, I have a writing blockade for more than half of my life, but suddenly one of my unintroduced OCs took over… 🤷🏽‍♀️

Yeah, I hope you have fun with a non-mother tongue, non beta-read, non-writer‘s spontaneous writing 😂🫶

@foxwithadarkside Look, who‘s gone AWOL 😁

@crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf Does this count for an OC showcase?

Chaos Squad, you might recognize some names 😎 @lonewolflupe @wings-and-beskargam @ghostymarni

Taglist, I apologize for my attempt to override my current art blockade with a pathetic try to draw something with words: @eclec-tech @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @ladylucksrogue @spaceyjessa @morerandombullshit @freesia-writes

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

How about reader, who is a seasoned gamer, invites Gaz to play something like Valorant or Fortnite etc. She says "dw it took me a while to get good too" but he picks it up stupid quick. He spends the rest of the time enjoying winding her up more than the actual game.

absolutely absolutely. gaz can and should get away with everything.

1,833 words / lucky number 13

...

"Gaz... you know most people play video games to escape their responsibilities."

"So you've told me." Gaz's voice crackles over your headset.

You're staring at your screen, watching as he confirms his character selection in the game's lobby. "You're absolutely sure you want to play tank?" you ask him.

He locks in his character, and it appears in the pregame lobby: a bald-headed, square-jawed guy with a muscular build and heavy armor.

"Positive. You're playing healer, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'm playing tank. Pocket me."

"You've never even played this game. We'll both get obliterated."

"Come on. How hard can it be? Shoot, use ability, reset. I take the damage; you heal me; I dish it back out; we win; you thank me for carrying you as always. It's just like our usual game."

"Repeat that last one. I think your mic cut out on account of the bullshit."

"You don't think I can keep the heat off you?"

"I don't need you to keep the heat off me. I just want you to have fun and not die in the first five seconds of the round," you tell him. He did buy this game specifically to play it with you. After a totally reasonable amount of prodding on your part. It's been your go-to for weeks.

"Then pocket me and I won't die. I'm not having fun if I'm not in the thick of it. You know me."

"Fine. For one game."

"Bet," Gaz says, sounding smug about it. "I'm not gonna disappoint."

During that first game, he's getting his bearings. But he takes to it rather intuitively, especially with your help over voice chat. His tactical skills are whip-sharp as always. As you pocket him, you focus your character's abilities on keeping Gaz alive. But you switch to upping his damage output when you realize he's holding down a choke point by himself, taking on enemies and laying out a field of fire for your team. It's impressive, considering this is his first time playing the game.

When an enemy sneaks up on you, his pocket healer, he disposes of them with slightly more prejudice.

"You're pretty good at this," you tell him, scanning the results screen. "I mean, maybe mid-tier if you were on your own."

"Mid-tier?" he says, a little affronted. "It's called being adaptable. Not that you'd know. Hundreds of hours in this game and you're mid-tier support at best."

You cross your arms, leaning back in your computer chair. "Because I don't play support. You know what? I'm switching to DPS. See what you carry without me patching your ass up every ten seconds."

Back in the lobby, you select your main. Gaz eyes the character with a bit of respect. "A rogue, huh? You must think you're pretty good. Gonna need a lot more healing."

"Only if I get hit."

"I could sponge that damage right up for you. Keep you nice and safe."

You scoff. "Won't need it."

"Let's see."

In the next round, you weave in and out of combat, gleefully dodging attacks and landing devastating blows before you disappear. Your bread and butter. Meanwhile, Gaz does--at worst--an admirable job tanking. Still, when you look back and see enemies surrounding him, it's clear he could use an assist.

You double back and flank two of the enemies on him, picking them both off one by one. But before you can gloat, his voice in your headset interrupts you.

"Good kills, baby."

That's not the reaction you wanted. It immediately ticks you off. "I know."

He chuckles and takes down another enemy. He's tunneling in on the fight now that you've got him back on his feet, but clearly he still has time to talk to you. "Can't take a compliment."

The face that he's purposely pushing your buttons just irritates you more.

The next few games, he makes himself indispensable as a tank. It should be a good thing, but he keeps getting in your way specifically. You'd swear it's on purpose. He tanks hits for you and then acts like you'd lose the game without him. His cockiness is insufferable. Worse--you can't ignore how deftly he's scaling the difficulty curve here. He's holding the attention of the enemy players, keeping them away from you while you deal the damage. And you'd never admit it, but the way he's holding aggro is saving your ass.

You shouldn't need him to do that, though. You tell yourself the only reason you're not playing better is because he's forcing you to maneuver around him.

Then he offs the enemy rogue right as you're finishing her off. You swear into the mic. "Gaz, come on! You stole my kill."

"I'm giving my little rogue the help she needs. Besides, you know it's not about getting the most kills. It's about the team's collective score," he teases, and you have to remind yourself it's just a game.

It's like he can tell exactly what to do to piss you off in record time after that. Bossing you around, telling you to take this point or make that kill. He even pipes up once to remind you it'd be a good time to use your ult. You open your mouth to tell him it's not ready yet, but to your chagrin, you glance down and realize it is. Somehow he's keeping track? Unreal.

You're a little impressed about that one, but you'd never tell him. In your defense, he's distracting you with all this banter and teasing. He's making it hard to focus.

"No backseat gaming," you tell him.

"Wouldn't have to backseat game if you played better."

"I would be playing better if you weren't crowding me!" You sigh out your nose. "You're only doing this to get a rise out of me. Micromanaging me. I swear you get off on it."

"You're giving me too many opportunities to obsess over you." He sounds smirky.

The way he says it makes something in your lower stomach flip. You lose focus for half a second--long enough for the enemy rogue to slip past Gaz and smack you.

Gaz slams into her with his shield to stun her, then spins around and uses his special to deal more damage. That last hit downs her. You don't even have a chance to react.

His voice in your headset is smug still. "Like I said."

"Fine. Thanks."

"You can thank me by not dying again."

After the game, you sit back in your chair, arms crossed. "You sure talk a lot of shit."

"Am I?" You hear him grinning. "I hoped you'd give me a little more attitude than that."

"Oh, I know. You're not subtle."

"Neither are you. You get riled up so easy."

"You want me to fight you? Because it sounds like you'd rather me just roll over and bite the damn curb."

"No, you want that. You're a masochist."

"Thank you."

"It isn't a compliment."

"I know. Keep bullying me," you snark into your mic.

It's hard to resist teasing you when you say stuff like that. "Okay," he says, his tone turning playful. He leans back, crosses his legs, and situates himself in his chair. The game's results screen idles on his monitor, forgotten. "You've gotta stop making it so easy for me, though."

"I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

"Ooh, are we doing condescension now?"

"I've been condescending to you since minute one. I can turn it up if it's not obvious enough."

"Keep going and I'll get off."

"Off voice chat, you mean?"

You smirk. "No."

He smiles, rolling his shoulders back. "I can absolutely be more condescending to you if that's what your incompetent little heart desires."

You laugh. "You were just waiting to bring that one out, weren't you?"

"I've got several of them tucked away just in case you got mouthy, But let's be honest--you're always mouthy."

"You're one to talk. You talked hella trash that last match."

"Only because I had to pull your ass out of the line of fire all the time. If you were better, I wouldn't have to. You're giving me ammunition, here."

"I just think it's telling that you play tank."

"Are you saying I'm compensating for something?"

"You said it. Not me."

He rolls his eyes, smirking. "You want to talk about projecting? You're the masochist, and you play a rogue? The one class known for being fragile? You're putting a target on your own back. What does that say about you?"

"Better than a tank main," you quip.

"I'm taking all the hits so you can DPS your way to getting play of the game. Makes me sound proper generous."

You examine your nails. "Makes you sound like a control freak."

"Why don't you look me in the eye and say that? Turn on your cam."

Your grin widens. "Gaz, please. If I turned my webcam on every time some guy online asked me to, I'd never have time to play."

He leans forward, lowering his voice. "Who says I'm kidding? Come on, baby. Give me eye contact. Look me in the eye and tell me I'm a control freak."

"Nope." You know he hates that you're not budging.

"Why? Aren't you decent?"

"More like I have Cheeto dust all over my hands."

"Doubt that."

"It's true."

"Come on. Prove it."

"See? Control freak."

"Fine, I'm a control freak--withyou. But you like it, don't you?"

"Oh, I love when you order me around. I love knowing exactly what you want me to do so I can avoid doing it forever."

He sits back in his chair and stares through his screen. It's not like he's never seen your face before. You've posted a selfie or two in shared chats. But he's never seen you cozied up in your pajamas. Or in a cute little robe. Or maybe a big t-shirt, the soft kind. Like he wears.

Yeah, he's realizing he's down bad. Worse than he thought.

"You wanna make the next round more interesting, then?" he asks.

You arch a brow, propping your sock-covered feet up on your desk. "Like how?"

"You lose, you turn on your camera, obviously."

You snicker. "I don't know what you think I get up to on a Friday night, but you're gonna be sorely disappointed." You pop another Cheeto in your mouth, knowing he'll hear it crunch.

Gaz laces his fingers behind his head. "I've already curbed my expectations. Bet you're sitting around in sweats and a hoodie with some anime character on it." Not that the thought of that isn't appealing. He suspects you don't let many people see you that way.

"You're... uh..." You look down at what you're wearing. "Not far off, actually."

"I know, baby. I've seen your Discord handle."

"So what if I win?"

"Then I won't tell anyone how hard you got stomped these last few rounds. And trust me, I'd be telling everyone. It's embarrassing how much of a load you were. Don't take that the wrong way, though--by all means, just sit there looking cute while I carry this next game."

"Oh, you're on."

Gaz grins, leaning forward. "Yeah, we'll see how cocky you are when I put you back in your place."

You pull your chair back up to your desk, hands poised over your mouse and keyboard. "Promises, promises."

Gaz readies up, too. "Don't worry, baby. I'll keep my word. But once I humble you, you're gonna regret ever doubting me."

...

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[lightwise]

Full Circle - The Return to The Outpost

The Return is a masterpiece in visual, verbal, metaphorical, and situational parallel and payoff. We have been waiting for 3 long seasons to see Crosshair and his family come to terms with their choices, reunite, and move forward together, and this episode somehow manages to give us all of it by walking us point by point through the scene of Crosshair’s change of heart—The Outpost. Most likely the themes presented here will continue to be parsed out for the rest of the season, but their fulfillment is begun here. 

We start with Crosshair outside of the ship, choosing target practice as a thinly-veiled excuse for avoiding his brothers. He is reunited, but not yet comfortable or fully trusted. In The Outpost, the scenes open with Crosshair outside of the ship on a smoking toothpick break, and he is approached by a Lieutenant who is decidedly not amenable to him. In both instances he is starting to be a little more open, however—his helmet is off, and in the first is listening to a group of regs, and the second, chatting with Omega and letting her show him physical affection. 

After a reunion on everyone’s part with Echo, who we see fully embrace a hug from Omega, and slip back into familiar banter with Crosshair, we are taken to the dining area on Pabu. This is a callback to the dinner that the main group had when they first arrived on the island, except this time, Crosshair and Echo have come home, and there is an empty chair symbolizing the absence of Tech. This episode shows no other characters besides the Batch (now including Batcher as the best girl that she is). The conflicts and themes in this episode are meant to fully delve into the heart of what makes this family tick. 

Barton IV is, as Crosshair states, a “remote, understaffed facility. It shouldn’t be a problem to infiltrate.” He can barely hold eye contact with Hunter while saying it, when once he was Hunter’s second. Hunter wants Omega to be safe and instructs her to remain behind, but she is adamant that they should stick together, just like she always has since joining them. Hunter almost looks like he’s going to cry, but he relents to both her demands and Crosshair’s input, although he is still suspicious of Crosshair’s motives. 

Before they leave, Crosshair has his original Bad Batch armor returned to him by Wrecker. His old identity and loyalties, kept by his family the same way he never left their hearts. A contrast to his previous mission, where Crosshair and the other clones are considered “used equipment,” and their only purpose is to protect and retrieve the shiny new armor meant for their replacements. 

As they make their way to the base, the weather also points to a drastic difference between the two episodes. In The Outpost, the weather is MISERABLE. Cold, stormy, clouded, dangerous. Crosshair’s inner turmoil at that time cost Mayday his life, and broke his allegiance to the Empire. But on their return it is clear, sunny, calm, settled—almost serene (on the surface). Crosshair has thawed and grown as a person, and his emotions appear to be in a much calmer, if somber, place. As they land, Echo states that there are no signs of life on the scanners. 

The planet is a graveyard. A memorial. A resting place. Made to dredge up and bury. 

A baptism. A resurrection. 

They exit the ship, and a vulture shrieks overhead, a reminder of Crosshair’s failures. Crosshair lifts his head to look at it, and his shoulders slump. (There’s an excellent little explanation of the vulture symbolism here.)

Mayday had told him that the vultures are vicious creatures who find a way to survive. They bury the dead and they take the scraps and they clean up for everyone else. They are shunned but beautiful. And they survive. Against all odds. 

The second the vulture disappears, tension between Hunter and Crosshair begins to spill over. While the others are happy to see Crosshair assuming his old identity, Hunter is suspicious that the planet is deserted yet still heavily guarded by sensor beacons, and rounds on Crosshair demanding explanations. Crosshair has willingly led them to the site of his trauma but he is NOT ready to talk about it yet, and matches Hunter snark for snark. According to him (he should know) the danger (local raiders) has been taken care of. Hunter is even more pissed off as he gets a glimpse of Crosshair’s activities under the Empire, and Omega is disappointed in both of them. Their feelings remain tense and tight as Echo convinces them all to get inside and focus on their mission. 

Once inside, Wrecker asks a question that encapsulates the fate of all the clones. 

“So why’d the empire abandon this place?” “I guess it served it’s purpose.” “Hmm, sounds familiar.” 

This prompts Crosshair to separate from the rest and go to a side storage room, where he first comes across the same heater that Mayday had once carried over to him as a gesture of friendship. It is dark and dead now. A sweep of his flashlight, and an even more sickening sight awaits him. All of Mayday’s troopers helmets, once lined up in a silent memorial, are now in a pile on the floor. And Mayday’s is among them.

Crosshair must have known this was a possibility, coming back. He isn’t ready to talk about his feelings toward this place, but his face tells us all we need to know about his grief and his regret. He steps over and in reverence, greets the helmet of his friend. He understands now. Loss, grief, death. The burden that Mayday carried. Succumbed to. At the time, Crosshair had merely watched. Now he participates and gives Mayday and his squad the honor they are due. Hunter, who has become more and more suspicious of what Crosshair isn’t telling him, catches sight of his brother honoring a (supposedly) random group of regs, but slips away to not disturb him. Yet. 

Crosshair rejoins the others as the sensors are turned off to redirect the power supply, and Batcher suddenly starts acting up. Crosshair takes her seriously, although he is forgetting something important that Mayday once told him—“you’ll freeze to death in that armor—if what’s in the ice doesn’t get you first.” Typically this is Hunter’s job, to be alert to shifts in the environment, but he is so focused on Crosshair “leaving” that he seems to be completely unaware of something stirring outside. 

Crosshair walks out both to scout and to process his feelings, and is greeted with an up close look at the ice vulture that has haunted him. He starts to scowl and as the bird takes off, asks “are you going to be my shadow everywhere?” A statement that could hold true for both the vulture and Hunter, who has followed him. And Hunter gets right to the heart of it.

“I know you,” he says. Or I did, before you became someone I don’t recognize. Someone who would betray us and leave. “There’s more you’re not telling us. Start talking. What did you do to get on the Empire’s bad side?” Hunter needs proof. He wants to know how the brother who swore loyalty to the Empire thrice over and stayed on that Kaminoan platform had a supposed change of heart. But he frames it bitterly, believing that Crosshair is simply repeating a pattern—one that had almost made them enemies. 

Crosshair’s hand shakes so much that his toothpick slips (like the sharp and pointed wit that often protects and comforts him), and we see a rumbling in the ice. Their emotions are starting to bubble and seethe.  

“You thought we’d take you back and not ask questions? I don’t think so.” Hunter is losing his grip on his emotions and physically shoves Crosshair in an attempt to spark the fight. His face is drawn, angry, and anticipating hurt. 

Crosshair remains remarkably calm, not even necessarily wanting to make an argument out of it, but he eventually responds to Hunter’s indignation with his own. And this time he doesn’t hold back. He starts at the end, admitting he killed an Imperial officer, but holds the tender explanation of why close to his chest still. Instead he tells Hunter what he thinks he wants to hear—that his betrayal of the Empire mirrors his betrayal of the Batch. Except Crosshair adds his own perspective—that he only betrays after feeling like he has been betrayed first.  

Hunter doesn’t have time to ponder that information as Crosshair now unleashes the root of his own turmoil onto him—and he knows how to hit Hunter where it hurts. Where he’s failed.

“I risked EVERYTHING to send you that message! You ignored it. You let Omega be taken to Tantiss.” The hurt blooms on Hunter’s face. “You failed.”

Crosshair isn’t even concerned about what happened to him on Tantiss. He’s concerned about Omega. And he knows that fact will twist Hunter’s gut in ways nothing else can. Hunter is their leader. He by default bears the blame of what happens to them, even though his squad makes their own choices freely. Crosshair doesn’t want to let him forget it. Hunter never lets himself forget it either. 

Both men only know their own sides of the story. And it’s tearing them apart.

They’re ready to trade blows but their attention is pulled back to their family and larger circumstances by Batcher barking. Hunter finally realizes where their emotions have brought them, but it’s too late. The snow erupts from a giant wyrm creature, no longer kept at bay by the high-pitched hum of the sensors. No matter the gulf between him and Crosshair, Hunter’s first priority is to shove him away screaming “move!”--echoing Mayday trying to save Crosshair during the avalanche. They fall to their knees and the ground splits between them. They barely make it back to the base as the symbol of their outburst chases them across the snow. 

Plans are made. The squad won’t be safe until this threat is dealt with. Each member volunteers their strengths. Hunter is in mission mode now, his face open, and extends an olive branch after his brother offers to shoulder the burden of leading the creature back beyond the perimeter alone. “We’ll do it together.” But now it’s Crosshair’s turn to be suspicious. Will Hunter really trust me again? Can I trust him?

The creature follows them. Disaster strikes. Hunter shrieks and falls below the ice. All animosity gone, Crosshair rushes to him, panic lacing his voice. Hunter! I can’t lose you the way I lost Mayday, buried beneath the snow.

And now, it is Hunter’s turn to tunnel into the darkness below the ice and face everything he’s been running from. Shot for shot, Crosshair has already been on this journey, already faced himself, his fears, his failures, down there. They can’t reconcile their perspectives, because Hunter has yet to do the same. Hunter commits to making sure that the wyrm is led away from his family, putting himself in harms way to make sure they stay safe. However, he has a safety line—Crosshair and Batcher up top, tracking him, covering for his usual role. 

“We found a weak point in the ice. We’ll try to dig through.” “You’ll try?” Their old banter makes a hesitant appearance. Hunter is still running. Crosshair is willing to try, as long as that effort is acknowledged. But despite their words, they hope that they won’t let each other down this time. 

“Am I going to have a way out or not?” “If you end up where we hope you do.” Hunter needs reassurance of an outcome first. But Crosshair reminds him that he is the only one who can plot his path, and its consequences. Hunter has to take responsibility for his own journey. The way out of this predicament hinges on how far, and where, Hunter lands. And he won’t take shortcuts, even when Crosshair begs him to go ahead and exit the tunnel once they find each other. He begged Wrecker to get Tech back onto the railcar. This time, he’s in the trenches himself. 

Tuned into his senses again, Hunter still doesn’t jump even as he feels the wyrm get closer, until the sensors are reactivated. Finally, he accepts Crosshair’s to help pull him out of the literal mouth of danger as the worm barrels into view. And they run again, leaping to safety just in time, having accomplished their mission. The wyrm is now harmless, roaring at them from the other side of the perimeter, chastened until it finally slinks away. 

The boys collapse, share a fully open look. All they need now is a nod. They have each others’ backs. Approval, gratitude, and trust now have space to grow. They are brothers again.

And Crosshair gets a redo of his trek back to the platform, except this time, instead of Mayday dying in his arms, Hunter is by his side, unharmed, and Batcher prances alongside them. Instead of silent TK Troopers and the insolent sneer of Lieutenant Nolan, they are greeted by Echo and Omega’s shining faces, and Wrecker running to meet them (and hug them. We all know they secretly loved it.)

(Side note: both Crosshair and Hunter have shown self-sacrifice on behalf of someone else in these parallels. Behind the scenes, Echo and Omega have a conversation that hints at the fact that Omega might be contemplating the same. The outcome of the guilt and confusion shadowing her even while Crosshair returns to the light remains to be seen, but it does not bode well.) 

The episode could end here. But it doesn’t. Now the real conversations can begin. It’s late in the evening and they have dug their ship out in order to depart. Bathed in warm light, Crosshair is finally ready to open up, at least a little, although he can’t face Hunter in the process. 

“I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire.” Owning up to his perspectives, not shifting blame. It was a choice he made. “I’ve done things. I’ve made mistakes.” Ones that he regrets. Crosshair's default is still to paint himself in the worst light possible when trying to reconcile with someone, in the hopes that the darkest parts of him will be accepted. He so desperately wants to be accepted for who he is, even when he knows he has done terrible things, and maybe especially, because he hasn't fully forgiven himself for them yet. So he tries to shock and hurt in the hopes that either his inner self-loathing will be corroborated, or his need for forgiveness can come from an outside source. 

And Hunter does forgive him, and doesn't even dwell on the many, many things he could blame Crosshair for, now that his own anger has passed. He acknowledges that he has regrets too, gives an even playing field by saying that none of them really had full information of what was going on when their separation first began, and extends solidarity in the best way he knows how. 

A smoothing of the path behind, and a glimpse toward the path ahead. He doesn't know what it holds either, but he's willing to walk it together.

And I think their choice of words is what they needed from each other. Hunter needed to know how Crosshair viewed his own actions. Crosshair needed to know how Hunter felt about the consequences, both those caused by him and those caused by Hunter’s own choices since. Hunter has always questioned his brother’s perspectives—his mind. Crosshair has always questioned his brother’s heart—his loyalty. Their strengths--and also their weaknesses.

“All we can do is keep trying to be better. Who knows? There might just be hope for us yet.” 

And for now, it’s enough. Crosshair looks into the sky, watches the ice vulture flying overhead once again, except this time, it flies off into the sunset, leaving him still mournful, but slightly more whole than when he first arrived. 

✨ Tag List ✨

@drafthorsemath @freesia-writes @sunshinesdaydream @the-bad-batch-baroness @heyclickadee @the-little-moment @ladyzirkonia @jedizhi @burningfieldof-clover

[thefcguy]

Miraculous Ladybug Superhero Outfits Ranking

Since Season 6 is fast approaching, and we will get some much-needed redesigns for the main hero cast, I decided to review the main superhero outfits from the past seasons and rank them according to my opinion.

Small warning... there will be a lot of salt in some of this. and I will be using some of @zoe-oneesama 's designs for Scarlet Lady as a comparison.

Without further ado... time to start this mess of a list

24- Argos

Where do I even start...

Well, I can start by saying that... NOTHING in his design works. It's painful to just look at.

The shade of green chosen doesn't clash well with the blue of the peacock. The green hair and the blue skin so close to each other makes the combo even worse.

The saturation of the blue isn't good either. If they wanted something more formal to Felix, they should have gine with a darker blue, Like Mayuras, or, Scarlet Lady's Blue blood.

My biggest problem with this design is the green, though. The moss tone, instead of some more vibrant just makes the design weird to me.

Also, why do all the Peacock holders skin turn blue when they transform? This doesn't happen with any other miraculous.

If Felix kept his hair and eye color, used a mask instead of a hood, used darker blues, and, MAYBE, some brighter shades of green, the design would work.

But this?!

It's painful to even look at it.

23- Ryuko

... Can someone explain me how a hero that has a DRAGON theme look so boring?

Just like a good majority of miraculous holders, her outfit is just a tight jumpsuit with little characterization...

Ryuko's, however, is specially bad, because, due to having the same color pallete of Ladybug, it feels unoriginal.

So, besides it being a simple jumpsuit like many other outfits I don't like, it also feels uncreative, which makes it love some points.

Besides using SL!Ryuko as a reference to what it could be... I would like to talk about one of my favorite ryuko redesigns.

One created by my friend @natedogx15 . Like, he used the fact that she was basically a knight, and made her outfit look like armor. Look at how badass it is!

It's said that canon Ryuko's design is basically ladybug's color pallete with some details to try to make it different.

22- Ladybug

This one was pretty obvious.

The suit is way too basic, especially considering that the hero behind the mask is a fashion designer.

It's also way to tight and it feels inappropriate for a girl Marinette's age to use.

It gets even worse if we remember that she was inspired by Spider-Man...

Like, seriously, this feels like a weird pajama a kid would wear. And even then, the PJ kids had better designs.

21- Chat Noir

The same problems that I have with Ladybug's design are here.

Basic and overly tight suit, that feels innapropriate for Adrien's age. And, although I think the Bell it's silly... it's what helps to keep this design from being entirely bland.

And hey, the green eyes are interesting, at least...

Still, it's not a design I like. They could have gone with something similar to Black Panther or Batman. But, instead... they chose this.

20- Miss Hound

Behold, the most uninspired design of miraculous ever!

It's literally just Sabrina's civilian outfits with a few differences. It's only a bit higher on the list because, the outfit is indeed more creative IN COMPARISON with the other hero outfits, and I like the beret.

But, seriously, Miss Hound design shows how little the show cares about Sabrina.

Her first, and main akuma, doesn't have an actual design, the second is a bit ugly, and the hero outfit is basically the civilian outfit with a new texture.

As a Sabrina Stan, I have to say... the girl deserved more.

19- Bunnix

Fun fact about me: I am a BIG Alice in Wonderland Fan. I also love this shade of blue... and that's why Bunnix's canon's design is disappointing to me.

The outfit is generic, I can barely see anything that reminds me of Alix, it has no reference to any card suit...

It just feels unispired, specially considering how good it could have been.

If it is Alice in Wonderland inspired, Bunnix could have a top hat, a coat like the white rabbits... but, it's just... nothing. inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Bunnix could wear a top hat and a coat like the white rabbits, but... there is nothing.

18- Minotaurox

Minotaurox is... an interesting case for me.

Because, honestly, I kind of like the design. Speically when people draw it on 2D.

But, a problem that the show has it's the rendering of uniform with darker colors... especially this shade of blue and black.

This colors just feel... lifeless in a way. They don't shine, or captivate... they are just there...

I just hope that, with the new animation style, the darker colors on the heroes look better.

17- Multimouse

Man, I don't get the fandom's love for Multimouse. It's not a bad design, but... it isn't good either.

I like the use of the colors, the hairstyle, and yes, it looks more creative than Ladybug's, but that's not saying much.

But, I also understand that they couldn't complicate the design too much because of how many fusions there were in the episode.

That being said... Multimouse is an acceptable design. Not amazing, but, okay.

16- Purple Tigress

Although I don't think the design is bad... it suffers from a problem of similarity.

Similar to how Ryuko's uniform looks too much like Ladybug's, Purple Tigress's looks too much like Rena Rouge.

Like, it's a lighter tone in the front, the main color of the miraculous is on the sides and back, and the character, who has her hair down on the civillian form, gets a ponytail after transformation.

Although I understand that Ponytails are probably more practical in battles... Purple Tigress and Rena Rouge's look too much alike.

I do admit I like the stripes. But, besides that, it's very unoriginal.

Particularly speaking, I like the jacket that Zoe gave her with the power up look.

15- Rena Rouge

Although it's not the worst design on the show, it's probably one of the most disappointing.

It looks too much like Volpina, and, even if Volpina's design was supposed to look like a fox holder, it doesn't mean that Rena Rouge couldn't look a bit more different.

Like, Queen Bee and Vesperia are both bee heroes. But, they look nothing alike.

Particularly speaking, I would have replaced the weird corset thing with a reporter trench coat.

Imagine a Trench Coat like this with the fox tail at the end? And the hat with the ears? I just think it would be neat.

14- Flairmidable

Flairmidable's design is one that... I don't care about.

It's very similar to Chat Noir's, it's true, but the use of colors make it more interesting. And it doesn't look as tight as Chat's uniform.

And that's what I have to say about the design.

It's not bad, but, I don't care.

13- Polymouse

Although it is a pretty generic design, there are certail elements that I like.

The change on hair and eye color, the mask, the ears on the hoodie.

And, once again, Zoe's redesigns proved that the concept could have worked.

12- Canigirl

Honestly, it's kind of a good design.

I like how it uses the colors brown, black and white to create it's combo. The mask is adorable.

And I like the detail of the black spot at the beret.

Kind of sad that her design is more creative than the one of the official Dog Hero.

11- Pigella

From now on, the designs are actually good, in my opinion.

Pigella's design is great. It's different from the usual jumpsuits, it reflects Rose's nature, and the ballerina tutu is great touch.

My only issue with it is that it doesn't feel like a Pig themed superhero.

Either way, it's one of the best female designs on the show.

10- Aspik

Although many people complain on the whole "bald thing", I don't think Aspik is a bad design.

He looks like a snake, has some cool patterns and textures on the outfit, and I like the color pallete.

Like, yeah, it would probably look cooler if Adrien showed his hair, but, it's not all bad.

9- King Monkey

It's a good design. Definetely not a jumpsuit, it has good sources of inspiration, it looks like a monkey...

It's one of the best designs on the show. It just isn't higher due to personal taste.

8- Carapace

It's a good design as well. It fits Nino's aesthetic, it's an outfit that has a clear turtle theme, and the details like the boots, and the knee and the elbow pads.

In general, it's good as well.

7- Viperion

Like Aspik, Viperion's uniform has some cool patterns and textures. But, besides them matching Luka more, his hair is the same color of his outfit, which I think it's neat.

6- Queen Bee

This design is iconic, and it has it's reasons!

The way it uses stripes, the subtle but noticeable change on the ponytail.

Out of the five, in my opinion, she has the best design.

5- Pegasus

Man, they were creative with this one.

Although his name is Pegasus, his shoes are a reference to Hermes, his uniform looks a bit like an armor (which makes sense, because he is kind of a knight), and the horseshoe on his neck.

They put a lot of effort on his design.

4- Vesperia

I used to be a bit mean with this design... but I noticed that it wasn't the designs fault, but the animation.

Like, there are scenes where the outfit looks great, and others where it doesn't. But, it's mostly because of the rendering.

The uniform is actually very creative, and it's really cool how they manage to create something so different from Queen Bee.

MY only issues are the masks and the black streaks on her hair. They... don't look that good in the show.

(If you guys want to see some cool ideas for a redesign, I recommend @nerd-chocolate 's post)

3- Rooster Bold

This design is FIRE!

The way they manage to incorporate so many Rooster details, like the claw, the beak, the comb and the tail.

Besides, it's different from every single other hero. It almost looks like a carnival costume on the best way possible.

2- Scarabella

Behold, the best Ladybug holder design.

This one feels like it's inspired by Spiderman.

The upper part looking like a jacket, the use of black, the hair... it's all so creative.

It's one of the few canon designs I don't think that could be improved.

1- Caprikid

This design had no right of being this good. But, it is.

The white and black contrast, the zipper, the fur, the horn. Just like Rooster Bold, it is also way different than the jumpuit pattern.

I only wished that they played more with Nath's hairstyle. Like, his miraculous is a pair of hair clips, and they do nothing with his hair...

But, still, out of all miraculous heroes, he has the best suit... in my opinion, a least.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Rise Characterizations: The Foot Clan

Since I've posted on Cass, I figured it would be useful to post separately on the Foot Clan as a whole.

So the Foot Clan's obvious goal is the resurrect The Shredder.

They have paralleled origins to that of the Hamato Clan, the distinction of which caused by Karai splitting into her own clan.

One of the only mentioned laws of the Foot Clan is: you can only take control by succeeding where those have failed.

This leaves room to interpret that there could be a history of in-fighting or struggle for power within the Foot Clan.

Ranking:

To officially join the Foot Clan, a recruit must attempt an assigned solo mission, and return with success. The more missions a recruit/member go on, the more they are qualified to be raised to a higher ranking.

A foot marking on a face is implied to accompany a higher level of respect. Since Huginn and Muninn haven't raised their rank higher than the equivalent of a 2, we can assume that getting a foot print you must be a rank 3 or higher.

Members:

Foot Lt. offhandedly mentioned they get recruits online in "ninja chat rooms", so it seems they prioritize quantity over quality.

Then there are the origami warriors, who serve as canon fodder. We see the origami warriors as the earliest army of the Foot Clan, but this is ruined with the turtles' involvement. I wonder what determines the value between the origami warriors and the human members.

The Foot Clan is already kind of built on flimsy foundations. Foot Lt. and Foot Brute seem to be the only ones in the know of what's going on (being able to navigate through the Hidden City, use/locate mystic artifacts, and have some knowledge of the Hamato Clan), but even they don't really understand the Shredder's motivations. It makes me question how "human" or disconnected from their humanity they are, especially considering the flaming heads and purple skin.

There is some mentioned donors of the Foot Clan (such as Jocelyn's parents), but after the Shredder was detained in Seasons 2's opening, the members of the Foot Clan kind of jumped ship. This forced Cass to find purpose elsewhere, and Foot Lt. and Brute to retreat to the shadows. When the Shredder returns, it's just the three of them. This might have to do with where they recruit from.

In-fighting and changes between leadership through violence could also lead to muddled history and values. These people aren't bound together by one purpose, just broad destructive chaos.

Names and identities don't be appeared to be valued within the Foot Clan. For the majority of the show Cassandra is referred to as "Foot Recruit", and the only names we're offered with the two leaders are "Foot Lt. and "Foot Brute". This is could be read as a gag, but again Foot Clan history is completely open to interpretation.

Goals:

We've discussed their connection to Shredder's resurrection, but even beyond him what they're really aiming at it world domination and destruction. We see this reflected in Cass with her inherit fierceness, but also how she deals with the fallout of the Foot Clan by raising an army of brownie scouts to take over the world.

And then there's the inherit role of servitude that both Foot Lt. and Brute put themselves under. When Draxum dons the armor they "await" his orders (with the misunderstanding that the Shredder has risen), and when asked what they expect the Shredder to do they simply shrug and say "shred". They live to serve and destroy for a higher power beyond their understanding. A few lines that particularly stuck out to me in the movie was: "Tonight we liberate our masters from their dimensional prison. With this key we shall free them to lay waste to this world and enslave its people."

And finally I'd like to discuss their relationship with the Krang and the key.

Since the events of s2 the Foot Clan appears to have taken residence in an abandoned garden, whether it was the same in which the boys had broken into to smell the corpse flower remains unclear to My findings. Their numbers have grown again for an unknown reason, and they have been collecting parts of the dimensional gate and finally key.

I would also like to mention the inclusion of the boat and dock here. Especially since we were introduced to the Foot Clan through their paper thievery, and the boys had their first win against them on a similar boat that served as a paper hoard.

Moving back to the Krang, they have a similar fundamental misunderstanding of their place in relation to their masters, as they did with their master the shredder. It begs me to ask the question of when exactly and how did Lieutenant and Brute start giving attention to the Krang.

They were never mentioned before during the show, but in the movie Lieutenant does refer to them by name, "We shall follow the Krang as they lead the Foot Clan to glory!" So did this reach for a new master come from desperate research on the Shredder's origins, or was that the end goal when the Shredder was released? The oni that gave Shredder is shown to be a Krang before they were even confirmed, and the armor appears eerily similar to the armor that the three Krang don in the final sequence of the movie.

Then the source of empyrean (the source of mysticsm, yokai, mutants) is shown to come from a kraang corpse. There's so much of the Foot Clan tied to the Krang manipulating Oroku Saki, but a lot of their origins appear to be lost to history.

But again that leaves much to interpretation and wiggle room to poke at!!

[insirisarts]

Origins of Olympus - Reimagined

Chapter 1: Welcome to Camp Oasis!

The sun beamed down onto the sand; the sky was clear of any clouds. The heat of the desert would’ve been unbearable for any human unlucky enough to be caught in its never-ending expanses. After all, mortals could not find their way to a place like this, especially not to its oasis. Even if they did, the gods would smite them for trespassing onto the sacred land. A place where the finest of greenery and produce grew; food was abundant, the water was so clean, you could drink it from the source, and filled with fauna so docile, even tigers could have been considered house pets. However, these individuals are by no means ‘mortals’. For these people are children of the gods. Blessed to walk the lands of Gaia with the grand powers of their parents. Striking the earth with powerful volts, bringing the motions of the tides, guiding souls to their final resting place, and even becoming the light of the sun themself.

An echidna stood tall on the entrance platform, backlit by the magic doorway behind her. Orange scales shining in the mid-afternoon sun. Her large wings sat solidly on her back, accentuating her posture. The woman's human upper half was covered with a red-orange dress, which was trimmed and decorated with gold. Gold bracelets were also placed on her upper and lower arms, and on the end of her serpent tail. Each of these bracelets were jeweled with three bright orange stones which matched her fiery irises. Scales traveled up the young woman’s body, spotting her shoulders, ears and face with the same burnt orange as the asymmetrical horns buried in her dark brown hair. Her heavy-lidded eyes surveyed over the slowly building group. Demi-gods to be specific.

“Hello everyone, I am Kaykrea and welcome to the Oasis of Demeter.” Kaykrea introduced, catching the attention of the present demi-gods. She had situated herself on the marble steps leading to the entryway of the camp, which was blocked by a form of powerful magic that none of the others could quite figure out. 

Beside her was a girl who had arrived earlier that day, a harpy named Marshie. She was white winged harpy, in a dark crop top with a long striped light purple shawl that fell past her shoulders. Her laurel was decorated with small golden sunflowers and sat atop her long strawberry blond hair, some of which had been pulled back to make a cute loose ponytail. Her outfit was finished off with some jean shorts that stopped above her more eagle shaped legs and taloned feet. They had taken time to chat during the wait and already found that they got along rather well.

“I will be your designated camp counselor.” Kaykrea's large, scaled wings spread to frame her sculpted body; her lower serpent body raising the human half to stand tall over all of the campers. “Today will just be a simple meet-and-greet with a tour of the campgrounds. Then we will have a short session with The Oracle later this evening.” 

Many already had looks of admiration or excitement on their faces; except for a man with long shaggy white and red hair off to the side, who simply rolled his eyes at her. She figured that this one may eventually become a problem and mentally noted to keep an eye on him. “First will be introductions, we will start with you.” She stated, pointing at a man with black hair and yellow highlights, frizzed by what appeared to be static. 

The man stood a bit straighter now that the attention was on him, his black eyes widening slightly from being singled out, “I am Mario, son of Zeus, God of storms and lightning!” Mario proclaimed. His looks only pushed the idea. His toga was black and yellow with hints of white under the garment and light blue accents. Lightning motifs could be found in his laurel, arm armor and his white sash in the form of a lightning shaped fibula brooch. Throughout his arms and legs, his veins seemed to glow an electric yellow on his sun-tanned skin. He stood with confidence, almost looking like he was about to burst with unstoppable energy.

The Echidna nodded in approval; a child of Zeus was sure to bring some excitement. “Thank you, Mario. Now you, the one in blue.” She moved on, gesturing to a man with a much shyer demeanor, as he sat much more hunched over compared to the rest of the group.

“Uhm… Jakey, one of the sons of Poseidon.” Jakey mumbled, just loud enough for Kaykrea to glean. Besides the small, high collard coverup on his shoulders, he was shirtless, showing off his swimmer's body. The armor over his left pec was layered and traveled over to part of his back, with large light blue inset jewels glittering in the light. At his hips sat a blue 5-layered skirt-like bottom that split at his right hip, the exposed part of which was covered by a cloth tied to the skirt. His arms and legs were protected by silver armor shaped like fish and similarly jeweled like the rest of his armor; his hands were covered in dark blue fingerless gloves. A tasteful crown was planted in his brown and blue hair with the same light blue gem, his hair had been put into a french-styled braid on both sides of his head that then came together into a long skinny braid in the back. On his back, sat a long bident with jewels spotted on the head, and the end had a shark fin shape.

Kaykrea nodded in satisfaction and was about to move on to the next camper when a new voice joined the group.

Distant shuffling sand could be heard from the distance. “I’m sorry, I’m here, hold on-!” Shouted a young man with short white hair. His ears were pierced with round red earrings and accompanied by golden ear clips covered in rose leaves. His neck was adorned with a red choker. A cropped himation draped over his right shoulder which was pinned by a sort-of star shaped fibula brooch. His two-layered red skirt with gold trim swayed with the movement of his legs. He had shoulder pads that appeared to have rose designs that matched the rose on his dark gray belt, which matched the leather armor on his arms. Small white wings flared from the shoulder pads and his golden shoes. Two hooked swords were connected at the hilts which gave the shape of an S sat on his back along with a small satchel, assumedly a physical god pocket, likely it had all of his other essentials in its magic confines. He skidded to a stop with the rest of the group; bending over to catch his breath, using his knees as support.

“I, huf, apologize, hrff, I was distracted, hooh…” He rushed between labored breaths; his body lightly shook from overexertion.

“And… who might you be?” The orange serpent inquired, drawing out her sentence. 

With one last deep gasp of air, the white-haired man responded, “I’m Bryan, the son of Aphrodite; the goddess of love, beauty and passion herself!” Bryan flicked his hair back haughtily and stood with his head held high. The motion made him look back and lock his eyes onto Jakey. This made him freeze in the middle of his display; a light pink softy grazed his face, and he awkwardly took a few steps back to get a proper look at the other man, honey brown eyes holding an intense stare.

‘…Poor guy…’ Kaykrea sympathized, even though the boy in blue didn't even seem to notice Bryan. However, she quickly corrected herself and went back to the meet-and-greet. “Thank you, Bryan. Now then, let's move on to… you.” She brought attention to a man with ashy skin.

The man with the sides of his head shaved and a braid going down the back of his scalp, a chunk of which was bronze. Thick sideburns lead to a scruffy but well-trimmed beard. He awkwardly lifted his hand in a wave. 

“Ah, Xylo. Son of Apollo.” Xylo greeted. His laurel also had a bronze color, sporting, strangely enough, pomegranate leaves. Bronze spartan armor on his torso and lower legs, along with a layer of leather pteruges at his waist along with shoulder pads that had sun designs glazed on. Over his protective layer there was a bright multi-colored sash, going from a dark purplish blue to a bright sunny yellow curving around his body to also become his belt and dangling the leftover fabric in the front. The cloth was pinned down by bronze peronai on his right shoulder and where the cloth hung off at the belt, they were in the shape of the sun with four points, inside being bright yellow glaze. He had single point claw gauntlets in a similar sun shape attached to thick fingerless leather gloves. At his hips, an open hip cape hung to his knees, a bright pattern depicting a sun in a wavy sky adorned the garment. Another odd part of his look were his dark purple eyes, it almost looked like they didn’t belong, or that he didn’t belong.

Kaykrea had scrunched her nose in frustration, heavy lidded eyes glaring aggressively, bowing her head to show off her dark orange horns at the ashen man. Apollo… Apollo… Mother…

“Ah… thanks.” She bluntly stated.

Xylo had an expression of mild offense but decided to leave it be for the time being.

As the rest of the meeting went on, more of the godly children introduced themselves. A second son of Poseidon named Mitch. He too, lacked a shirt and wore a coverup on the upper part of his torso and wore a far more gaudy golden crown. Although, his face was half covered in black scales. He was much darker than Jakey, with a more deep sea/ocean look to match with his black and blue clothing, with small bioluminescent adornments. He also held the trident, at this mention, Jakey made his own snide remark about poor choices in part on their father. 

The man KayKrea had taken note of earlier was named Brandeen, who was a son of Ares. His style leaned towards more human than Olympian it appeared, not that it was any concern to her as plenty of gods and demi-gods had spent at least some time around mortals and their ever-expanding culture. His overall appearance was dark, his disheveled black and white striped shirt and ripped black pants made up part of his look. A dark red pleather biker jacket with the sleeves measly ripped off, which was accented with smaller bits of a brighter red, brought it all together. Around his arms were bandages with blades tied at the ends that pulsed with divine energy; those must be his weapons.

Further back was a Satyr woman named Relena, the adopted child of Artemis. Her hair was a subtle mix of light and dark brown and subtly blended into the fur on her ears and face; which were both rather animal-like. She was dressed in much more casual human clothing, having a halfway split turquoise and light pink short jacket over a plain white crop top, the pink matching her horns. The jacket had its sleeves ripped off, showing her strong arms. Her jeans were intentionally ripped at her knees, keeping it out of the way of her more animalistic legs and hooved feet. An attempt was made to paint her hooves the same pink as her horns. Slung across her hips sat an ornate silver bow with a quiver of arrows.

At the end of the lineup stood a man almost completely clad in black, battle armor being placed over his original clothing. His name was Brick, one of the very few children of Hades. He had a black war helmet with the holes for the face covered by a bright purple energy. His speech was short and abrupt, only giving his name and heritage in a sharply cold manner.

Kaykrea knew there were other campers yet to arrive, but she had to start with the tour before it got too late in the day. So, with a large flap of her orange wings, she instructed the present campers to follow her for the tour of the grounds. With an expert waver of her hand, she dispelled the magic that blocked off the entrance to the camp.

Entering through the enchanted doors of Camp Oasis, guarded by large spear-wielding statues, they followed a small path. The path led to a sort-of roundabout, which had small sections of path that lead away to other parts of the camp. Surrounding the group was a quaint little garden, and at the roundabout’s center was a marble fountain that poured water as blue as the sky. Many flowers covered the area surrounding the outer rim of the path around the fountain. However, Bryan took particular interest in the Rose bushes.

“Oh, I heard about the nature here!” He exclaimed with adoration and fondness, earning him odd stares from the others. “About how it all seems to live or even thrive! These roses are beautiful, what do you do to make them grow like this?” He would have continued to fawn over the red flowers if he weren't interrupted.

“Bet you sure know a lot about this junk, huh?” Mario taunted. It sounded playful, but that didn’t stop Bryan from shooting the other with a sharp glare.

“Sure do…” The white-haired man mumbled. Mario sucked in his lips, like how one would with something sour, he figured that he shouldn’t have spoken up.

“Alright!” Kaykrea interjected, clapping her hands together to catch the two boys' attention. “Let's get a move on up the path!” She ushered, wanting to avoid a first day conflict.

Up the path was the training area. Fully packed with dummies, targets and even a small sparring ring with a little viewing area. A good handful of campers took potshots at the targets, using either their weapons or godly powers, with varying rates of success and accuracy. Further down was a sports area, consisting of both old Olympic sports and modern human sports. Next to the sports fields were the cabins. They were charming, being made in a rustic style and crafted from the same wood as the surrounding towering trees. She said that cabins would be assigned after the tour, during dinner. Most were able to house two or so people and stood overlooking the surprisingly close gulf that led out into the ocean. Nearby, a dock sat with fishing boats stranded on the shoreline. Fishing equipment had been provided on the dock, along with some outdoor cooking equipment in a small shed nearby. Next was the camp hall, for campers to meet and socialize. A bonfire circle sat just beside the mess hall, it had yet to be lit, although it seemed to have been recently stocked with firewood. 

“This is where we will have our rendezvous after you settle in and have dinner this evening.” She explained, letting everyone gather before continuing. “Then The Oracle will come and give us a free prophecy. Afterwards, you will earn the right to meet with them eventually, but that is a discussion for later throughout your stay.”

Then the mess hall. The Hall was very large, it would have no trouble fitting the entirety of the camp once they were all there. A heavenly smell came from the building, a mixture of sweet and savory that caused the campers mouths to water with anticipation. Finally, was the shower and bathroom area, having both separate and unisex washrooms, and a small bath house.

She pointed to a distant building. It was a small temple, with a securely locked door. So secure in fact that there was no lock, only magic.

“That is where The Oracle resides. You are not to bother them unless you are given passage, or they decide to summon you.” She declared with finality. Asserting that the building was fully off-limits otherwise. 

  With that the campers were released and left to their own devices. Some had gone to chat by the cabins and others went to either look around the camp or to use the training area. Kaykrea herself went to the mess hall to finish preparing for that night's feast.

Soon enough, they were brought back to the mess hall, where an entire buffet was set up. Different tables had different types of food. Fruits and vegetables were set to one side of the buffet. Large fruit bowls held exotic fruits not even native to their part of the world, and the veggies had been grown right on camp property and harvested that day. A range of different meats sat in the middle of the arrangement, from the finest steaks to moist and well-seasoned fowl and poultry, to fish from both fresh and saltwater. At the other end were deserts and drinks. Pies, cakes and pastries alongside juices, nectar and ambrosia. It was now bustling; some others had arrived at the camp over time and joined in on the festive atmosphere.

During this time, Kaykrea went around telling campers to take a card from a small deck. The cards were in pairs of colors and a cabin number, and those with matching pairs would bunk together. On occasion, some did not get a cabin mate, not that any of them seemed to mind, like Mitch. However, most did have two people. Xylo and Jakey, Relena and Brick, even Brandeen had a cabin buddy. Although, she had not learned his roommate's name yet. Glancing around, she could see the Demi-gods socializing, looking for anyone who had a matching card or simply enjoying the food. Bryan approached her to receive his card, fittingly, red. Not that she knew if anyone else had a red card, but she had caught a glimpse at his. She internally chuckled at the mild irony.

“Did anyone else get red?” He inquired over the crowd, causing a brief awkward silence as everyone else double checked their cards.

“Over here!” A voice replied, a hand darting up over the crowd to display their card.

Bryan made his way over to his roommate for the summer. Only to come face-to-face with Mario. He could hardly hide his disappointment. Obviously still salty about the comment made earlier that day. Mario held a poorly disguised expression of awkwardness, not knowing how to tackle the subject. Kaykrea was about to confront the two about perhaps changing cabins before the man in black and yellow asked if the shorter boy would be willing to meet with him outside. With a stiff nod, Bryan followed the fellow demi-god out the door. Just to be safe, the serpent woman discreetly accompanied the two.

The full moon hung at the edge of the sky, the final dim glow of the setting sun moments from vanishing. Cool night breezes chilled the earth from the heat of the summer day. The pair stood in silence, not sure how to begin the conversation. The tension was thick enough to be sliced by any blade. Which Mario dared to do.

“Listen, I’m sorry about earlier… I thought it sounded joking enough, but I could tell it flumped entirely.” He kept his warm black eyes on the ground, not really wanting to see the look the other man was possibly giving him.

“Yeah, I get that.” Bryan spoke blankly, staring off in a random direction. “But it still hit a cord… kinda sounded like my mom…” This came out far more dejected.

“Really? Why would Aphrodite, of all gods, judge flower stuff?” The raven-haired man replied in mild shock.

Kaykrea was inclined to agree, very odd for the goddess of love.

Bryan continued, waving his hand in circles to sort his thoughts. “Not so much the flower thing, more so just not really understanding or accepting my interests…” The other supplied, “Me not being like my siblings… or her.”

“Whoof, I feel you there, my dad doesn’t really give me much thought. Given that he has so many other kids.” Mario chuckled at his little jab at his father; he was right after all, Zeus wasn’t known for his… marital devotion.

Kaykrea had to quickly stifle laughter at the thought. She couldn’t risk getting caught.

“Not to mention that a lot of them have become either legendary heroes or have impacted history in some major way.” Mario ended his sentence with a light huff of amusement and an awkward lean “Those kinds of expectations can make someone pretty awkward huh?” he asked rhetorically, obviously trying to railroad to find common ground. 

Quickly, under his breath the black-eyed man added on, “and dad can’t keep his clothes on so-”. The smug smirk that plastered his face made the other demi-god snerk a little, a light red came to his cheeks and ears in embarrassment as his lips scrunched to a futile attempt to hide his amusement.

“Gross-“ the man in red shot back with a humorous sly grin, gently shoving the other. “-but… same… only with my mom.” He amended, “Anyways, no one likes to think of the goddess of love and beauty being a violent god, despite her history. I just can’t help but wonder about it.” This came in a more soft-spoken cadence, walls starting to fully drop.

“Yeah?” Mario tentatively eased. “I’m sure it must make things awkward?” He raised an eyebrow. Although drama in the Aphrodite family was not surprising, nor unheard of, seeing that outward facade be shelved for honesty and openness took Kaykrea aback slightly. Maybe she shouldn’t have eavesdropped on this conversation. It was beginning to become a little too personal and raw.

Bryan began to lean in, speaking both softer and with sincerity, the haughty persona being fully abandoned before responding.  “Mhm.” He started with a small nod. “You see, I’m a huge fan of the legendary wars and heroes of the past. That led to me digging, especially since my mother was one of the main causes for the biggest war in our history…” his eyes seemed to shine excitedly, passion bleeding from his slight movements and the small grin on his face.

“I couldn’t help myself.” Bryan continued, “I just wanted to understand why we had to throw that part of our past away. Just because our family represents the many forms of love doesn’t mean we couldn't enjoy combat or sparring. Heck, I even got a gift recently that-”.

All of a sudden, Bryan trailed off, his eyes becoming listless, losing that excited bright shine. The feeling of discomfort filled the still air, and his muscles tensed.

“What?” Mario cocked his head, “Something else on your mind?” He pushed.

Bryan backed off, glancing to the side in embarrassment. “Sorry, shouldn’t have said anything…” he muttered under his breath, shoulders sinking subconsciously.

The black clothed man quickly waved his hands, trying to brush off the others embarrassment. “No, no! I was just… uh.” He took a pause; he was ruining this again.

“It’s ok. Not many people know about my mother’s past with war. Especially after The Iliad was published.” The shorter man chuckled, starting to backtrack “But I want to know… even if she doesn't really like me digging into it.” Bryan was standing normally now, a lot more bashful and uncomfortable talking about his family.

Mario planted his hand on the other in a comforting gesture, rubbing small circles into his back. In return, Bryan leaned into the touch slightly, the muscles near his shoulders flexing oddly. It was like he wasn't used to touch, or at least it had been a while since he's been comforted. Although, from what Kaykrea had observed, and her prior experience with the Olympian gods. The awkward nature of the white-haired man seemed to suggest the former.

Bryan lifted his head to look at Mario, taking a small calming breath before speaking again. “To be honest, I don’t think I know much anyway. A lot of my own memories are fuzzy…” This earned him an odd look from Mario, and Kaykrea couldn’t help but do the same. It is rather strange that he would have a bad memory. Was this what the smaller was trying to talk about before? Well, whatever the case may be, the black-haired man let it be and merely nodded in acknowledgment.

It seemed the two had spoken their peace. Overall, a little more comfort had been built between the two. Mario stuck out his hand, offering an apology and a truce to their minor conflict, which Bryan accepted with a small smile. Kaykrea huffed a small sigh of relief, glad that a fight hadn’t broken out on the first day, nor that any enemies were made. She made a quick escape back into the mess hall, moments before the other two made their reentry. It was felt in the room, everyone could tell that whatever issue was happening between the two, it had been sorted out. They went off to join the others again, starting to take far more enjoyment in each other's company than before. At least that was resolved.

About two hours had passed at this point, Kaykrea taking the time to clean up as the festivities came to a close. Many campers had joined together into small groups or cliques and every once in a while, there would be thunderous laughter that would trail back into a comfortable buzz and light chatter. She was frankly quite surprised; no fights, mild and quickly resolved conflicts, and not a single misunderstanding! It was almost as if they were in a normal human camp and not a camp full of physical embodiments of natural concepts. Although she knew that it all had to come to an end soon, it was almost time to meet with The Oracle and she needed to pick up the mess hall before then.

“Okay, everyone!” Kaykrea called, waiting for the campers' conversations to end before she announced, “It is almost time to meet The Oracle, I would like all of you to go to your cabins and drop off your things, decide who wants what bed and such. We will meet back at the bond fire, I will move on with the night whether you make it or not, so be there if you wish to listen to The Oracles’ predictions.” With that, she went to clean the tables of the leftover dishes and scraps of food.

The campers had left for their cabins to drop off their things and to get sorted before heading to the large bonfire. When it seemed that all had arrived, Kaykrea used her flaming blade to ignite the kindling, and soon enough, a fire was brought to life. The flame was large and danced with the slight breeze of the night. Cracks and pops from the wood soon followed, allowing the meeting to officially begin. Xylo, with hardly any regard for the current evening event, suddenly pulled out a large bag of marshmallows, announcing a query of whether anyone wanted some. Most around the fire whooped at the human treat, receiving their share from the armored man.

Mitch had grabbed two and offered one to Jakey, who had taken it upon himself to grab his own from the son of Apollo rather than accepting one from his brother, Mitch practically looked scandalized. Mario had done the same with Relena, who happily accepted the offer, and Bryan, who simply denied the sugar pillow after giving it a questioning glance of uncertainty. Brandeen seemed all too eager to receive the food from the violet-eyed man. The two had been talking a lot earlier and appeared to have hit it off in some fashion, although Xylo did give him a standoffish look. Kaykrea was far from amused, seeing how all began to disregard what this meeting was about. She simply rolled her eyes and slithered away when Xylo attempted to offer her the bag's contents. In return, he merely shrugged and received a plush confectionary for himself.

The fire in the center of the gathering began fully burning in a bright blend of reds, oranges and yellows. Accenting the woman's appearance and making her look just as bright as the flames. With a faux clearing of her throat, she called to attention all of the present campers for the night's announcements.

“I’m sure some of you all are anticipating the reason as to why we are out so late.” She began, more so wanting to give a reminder to the campers. She continued “First, I do have a few announcements. Starting off, in a few days we will be having the Trial of Ares, which will be a sort of… death match.” This statement brought a few panicked faces and alarmed exclamations to the campers “However, with less… death involved. Close to death, I should say.” Her amendment melted some tension, but the atmosphere still weighed heavy in the group. “It will allow us to see who is at the top, and where others' experiences lie before we get into the real training.” Uncertainty followed the final word of the first announcement, nervous glances were shared between the others.

“Will we get anything?” Was a quick question from Xylo.

“Excuse me?” Came the indigent reply from the camp counselor.

“If one of us wins the trial. Do we get anything?” He clarified.

“That will be discussed at a later time” Was the firm response from the brunette woman.

“Now then. Secondly, as you all know, there is a special guest for you all tonight. They would like to pay a visit to all of you.” Suddenly the meeting area was filled with gasps of awe and excited mermers at Kaykrea’s reveal, some nodding that they did, in fact, remember the prior mention. “There is a message that they would like to give you all, a prophecy.” Her voice suddenly hardened as she followed up with a demand. “I do ask that as a way to show respect to The Oracle, you must stay completely silent, and to not have… snacks, while they are here…” This prompted Xylo to quickly hide the bag of marshmallows and for everyone else to swiftly finish their part of the treat. “Are we clear?” The serpent finished, allowing for any present questions.

Xylo ended up asking another query, the primary one on everyone’s minds. “What if we have questions about what they say?” Soon pipings of agreements followed and Kaykrea was quick to respond.

“There will be no questions for The Oracle at this time.” she asserted. “Although, perhaps in the future, but not today. Am I clear?” She took a pause so the campers could give their affirmation, albeit tentatively. “Alright. Introducing… The Oracle.” The winged woman slithered back as the flames of the bonfire began to grow unnaturally, responding to the approaching powerful presence. The once gentle breeze started to pick up and blow back locks of hair. Even the moon appeared to shine brighter as a soft flapping of wings could be heard just over the cracking and popping of the fire. A small shadow formed in the glowing space above the flames, and as it came closer to the light, The Oracle was revealed.

They were small, looking no bigger than the length of an arm vertically and horizontally if the wings and tail were fully stretched out. Right, they had a tail, covered in small iridescent scales that transitioned from black to a deep blue to a bright green, speckled throughout were small white spots, it’s unclear if those were the scales shining or just part of the pattern. Underneath was a black belly with long smooth scales that came up to the main ‘head’. The bat-like wings shared similar traits to the tail, with the black, blue, green with white speckles, pattern. Their head could hardly be considered a ‘head’, since it was just a single large eyeball. The unnerving sight was only enhanced by the odd shaped iris and pupil, which had the shapes of diamonds. The iris itself shared the previous color pattern of the tail and wings. The eyelashes themselves didn’t help either, being large and thick. The top half was long and had two protruding chunks on either side that enhanced the bat-like look. The bottom came to multiple sharp points. Large openings where the eyelids met showed the connective corners. It all was so disproportionate and unnatural, yet here they were, right in front of the small crowd.

A voice, as soft and smooth as the nearby ocean waves, whispered through the open air. Despite not having a mouth, The Oracle spoke as though projecting their message straight into the minds of the camp's inhabitants. “Ah, and so arrive the children of the gods…” Like a knife through butter, the voice cut through the silence, demanding the attention of all those present. The single eye glanced with a piercing gaze over the group, barely stopping on anyone specific. But still, The Oracle already was seeing the future of the campers. “How interesting… hmh… very interesting.” The eye began to glow in rings, looking like the flaring of the sun when looked at through a window or from a recording. The fire began to build, and the smoke rose in large plumes as the small bat-serpent form took to hovering over the pit. Finally, they spoke of what they were seeing. “Darkness looms over the future for one of you, and with it will come terror and destruction. Greatness follows another, a coming day where you will become a great hero. But, not without great loss of those who you love and believe to be close friends. And one of you will assist to break open the earth, and free The Titans from Tartarus. The Future is filled with bloodshed.”

With the final declaration from The Oracle, the fire suddenly is extinguished, leaving all to be shrouded in the darkness of night. The Prophecy held very few good omens it seemed. An unnerving silence filled the air as the small eyeball-bat disappeared into the star-filled sky, swiftly blending in and vanishing from the scene. Soon hushed whispers filled the area as uncertainty and fright began to grow. Kaykrea was quick to initiate the ending statements for the night and sent the campers back to their designated cabins to rest. Although, it would best be assumed that not many got much rest, whether if it was discussing the words of the Oracle, concerns on the upcoming trial, finishing unpacking, or ponderings on how the summer may be more interesting than at first predicted.

Kaykrea stood at the shoreline straddling the camp, nearby was The Oracle’s abode, where the small creature was resting. She didn’t want the others to see, but the prophecy frightened her. She knew that the lives of gods and demi-gods could get dangerous, but… bloodshed… terror… The Titans. What would this mean? Was everyone here doomed right as they crossed the threshold? Perhaps even before they arrived? Not only that, but nothing said that The Oracle was safe either. It appears that maybe She has bitten more than she could chew. But she would do anything for the camp, anything for The Oracle.

Next chapter

Previous chapter

First chapter

Please watch the original Origins of Olympus series, while this story does make major changes; the series made by the Origins MCRP crew is important to understanding the Reimagining, and it's good to support the original material if you can. It's free on YouTube with multiple perspectives. If you see any way that I can improve my writing, or any grammar/spelling mistakes please let me know!

[serasfanfiction]

Cw for blood. No gore, tho. Cw in tags as well. Mostly Alastor being Alastor.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

If Lucifer didn't know any better, he would have sworn Alastor was going out of his way to make certain they ran into each other.

He seemed to be everywhere.

It didn't help that whatever he was doing, Alastor had seemingly decided to pull out all the stops. Horrifically enough, he was good at just being there, right as Lucifer would turn around, watching and waiting as if to see how long it would take the little king to notice him.

(And if he had damn near shrieked the first time it had happened? Well, no one else was around, so who would hold him to it?)

After a week of this, Lucifer was starting to feel twitchy. It was difficult to tell if he was actually sensing eyes on him like a second skin or if he was just being paranoid. The only place he felt any relief was in his own room, which he might have taken to hiding in when it all became too much.

It felt like being stalked. Like he was being hunted.

Lucifer growled to himself, frustrated he had been driven to such drastic measures. Yes, he could totally stand up for himself! He was significantly more powerful than that petty little sinner! He just really, really didn't want to deal with all of this. There was a reason he avoided senseless drama.

He groaned, throwing off his covers and forcing himself out of bed. Enough, he thought to himself. This had gone on far too long and it was past time he and a certain Radio Demon had a little chat.

He donned his suit, building up his armor like he was going to war. Which, he supposed, he sort of was. He settled his hat in place and grabbed his cane, aware he was doing all of this over a lowly sinner, Overlord or not, but he felt the uncontrollable urge to remind Alastor which of them was actually the King of Hell and which of them wasn't.

He was self aware enough to appreciate that if this really was just a matter of the Ruler of Hell putting a sinner in his place he wouldn't have needed to have put on his uniform, but Alastor had gotten under his skin and everyone already knew it.

There was no point in looking for Alastor. Based off of previous behavior, the red head would simply come to him.

Lucifer deliberately kept to public enough areas to invite company, while still being private enough that Alastor would be tempted to sneak up on him.

And Alastor did not disappoint.

Lucifer spotted him out of the corner of his eye while getting lunch. Triumphant, he spun around and pointed an accusing finger. "You!"

Alastor's ever present smile ticked ever-so-slightly wider, but it wasn't showing teeth yet. "And how can I help you today, your Majesty?"

"We need to talk," Lucifer stated, tone brokering no disagreements. Not that the other Hellion was protesting. "Now."

Alastor tilted his head to the side at just the right angle to be unnerving, hands folding behind his back. "Are you actually going to talk to me or are you going to run away again?"

Lucifer allowed himself a deep, calming breathe. Allowed Alastor to see it. The released exhale was hot enough for a whisp of smoke to escape.

There was still no teeth, but it seemed like it was only barely.

"We both know the only reason I've tolerated your behavior is because I promised not to fight with you."

Alastor raised on eyebrow, asking without verbalizing it as to if this wasn't a potential fight.

Lucifer crossed his arms to keep from wrapping his hands around that scrawny little neck. "And I want to keep my promise, but to do that, we need to get whatever you've been going through this last week out of your system."

Alastor laughed, false and mocking. "Ha! I assure you, I have no idea what you mean."

The blonde refused to rise to the bait. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but we are doing this." He smiled, tone generous as he added, "I'll even be nice and let you chose if we're having this talk in your room or mine."

Alastor considered him, body language giving away nothing. "You'd give the familiar ground to a potential enemy?"

Lucifer waved a hand at the room in general. "One could argue anywhere in Hell is my territory." He hummed lightly. "But in all honesty, even if your room - the one I built for you - could be considered enemy ground," here he leaned in to make his point, "There's nothing you could do to seriously harm me if I don't let you."

There it was again: the flicker of the dials. It was written all over him that Alastor wanted nothing more than to take that as a challenge and to put that theory to the test.

Lucifer welcomed him to try if it meant they could move on from this - whatever this was. Because that statement wasn't a theory, it was a fact.

Alastor reigned himself back in until not even a hint remained of his control slipping. "My room, if you don't mind. Shall we go?" He held out a hand, gesturing for Lucifer to take the lead.

Which, nope. He was not turning his back on this guy at this point in the game.

With a snap of his fingers, red smoke wrapped itself around them. It was showy and unnecessary, but it was worth it for the way a brief spasm of panic tightened Alastor's smile at just how easily Lucifer could just straight up kidnap him if he wanted to.

Which was good. Let him chew on that tidbit for a while.

They reappeared in the Radio Demon's quarters. The basics had been done per what Vaggie (with a V!) had been able to remember, as she was the only member of the hotel who'd seen Alastor's room. They'd left his personal touches to him, but an honest effort had been put into rebuilding the structure of it.

Glancing off to his right, Lucifer could see that Alastor had rather impressively bent reality (like the elderich creature he was) to morph half of the room into what appeared to be a bayou. It gave the impression that the room was significantly larger than it was. The residue of the magic it took to pull off such a stunt made his teeth itch, the same kind of wrongness the original bar had had.

Various other personal effects had worked their ways around the room. Some of the more interesting ones were the array of trophy skulls, both human and animal, decorating the walls. He had little doubt that Alastor had hunted, skinned, and mounted every one of them himself. The only real question was if they were original to the room pre the hotel's destruction? Or were they... newer?

By the time he turned his attention back to the owner of the room, said owner had had more than enough time to regain his composure. Lucifer was a little sorry he'd allowed Alastor the break, but he did genuinely want to resolve whatever the hell was going on between them. Being stern when needed was fine, but he didn't want to push Alastor so hard he snapped unless he had to.

Lucifer tapped the fingers of his predominant hand against his arm, all weight on one foot and ready to start tapping the other if necessary. He gave Alastor an expectant look. "Well?"

Alastor was nothing if not up for a fight. He may have been knocked off balance, but he was clearly up to being ornery as pay back. With an air of boredom, he inspected his claws, as if looking for nonexistent dirt. "Well, what, my dear king?"

Lucifers fingers didn't pause. "Don't play coy, it doesn't look good on you." He was pleased with the narrowed eyes he got in response. "What has this last week been about? You've been acting weird." Lucfier waved a hand in Alastor's general direction. Added, "Well, weird for you."

Alastor's irritation smoothed out at the implication that Lucifer paid enough attention to him to have come to some conclusion about what might constitute as 'weird behavior.' He hummed lightly, the noise oddly soothing in a way. "Very well, if you must insist. Just don't get angery if you don't like the answer."

Lucifer frowned. Angry? About what?

All thoughts were cut off as Alastor melted away into his shadows (and when the heck had his shadow gotten that close? He hadn't even seen it move). The thought crossed Lucifer's mind that he should have warded the room to keep the sinner from leaving, but ultimately, he needn't have worried.

Well, about Alastor trying to run away.

Because he really should have known better.

He realized where Alastor had gone, just as he could hear the unmistakable sound of someone taking a deep breathe right in his ear.

Lucifer could feel every single one of the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as that breathe was exhaled against his neck, sweat breaking out across his skin as a shiver ran through his body. The only reason he didn't yelp was because he was too busy choking on his own tongue.

Dignity be damned, the King of Hell nearly teleported across the room, hand slapping up against his neck. Eyes widen in horror, he brandished his cane like a rod. "Wha-- what in the seven rings of Hell was that!?"

Alastor watched him like a cat watches a mouse it's having fun playing with. "You asked what had gotten into me." He folded his hands behind his back, as if he hadn't just been sniffing the Devil himself. "That was... curiosity."

Lucifer stared at him incredulously. "Curiosity?" He laughed, a little forced as he tried to reign in his too-fast heartbeat. "If you were curious how I smelled, you could have just asked."

Alastor raised an eyebrow to that and Lucifer belatedly realized he'd just implied all someone potentially had to do was ask to smell him and he might let them do it.

Lucifer flushed but refused to correct his statement.

"Hm, how quaint." Alastor leaned in eye so slightly, just to see Lucifer unconsciously lean back. "Rest assured, it isn't quite so simple."

A pause lulled between them as the blond waited for the rest of the explanation. When he failed to receive one, he waved a hand impatiently for the red head to get on with it.

Alastor turned enough he could look out into his bayou without completely losing track of his guest. The motion drew Lucifer's attention to the area, although he didn't dare take his eyes off the serial killer.

"Has anyone told you what my dish of choice is?"

The question confused Lucifer and his impatience made him feel irritated by what felt like a non-sequitur in the conversation. He'd heard Alastor was a cannibal, so he assumed it was other sinners. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Alastor rolled his eyes, gesturing out into the bayou.

As if on cue, a tree branch snapped closer to the edge of the trees in the distance. Lucifers eyes snapped to whatever had made the noise, making eye contact with ...a deer?

Lucifer stared, that feeling of being hunted roiling over him as it dawned on him what had happened. He didn't have to look at the Radio Demon to know he was watching him like a predator watches his prey.

Lucifer swallowed, hard. "I... I don't know what you..."

There was no mercy, no quarter in Alastor's eyes as he near stalked over to the Devil. His smile was all teeth as he ran a finger along the brim of Lucifer's hat. "When I saw those ears, I was curious if you would still taste like an angel or if you might taste like something more to my ...preferences."

Lucifer was fairly certain his brain was short circuiting. Some wire must have gotten crossed, because what came out of his mouth wasn't 'you're a freak,' it was:

"If you got your taste, you'll back off?"

The two stared at each other, Lucifer unsure who was more surprised by the question.

Alastor's grin was every inch as wicked as everyone only thought the actual Devil was but really wasn't. "Are you offering a deal?" The hand he'd used to near caress Lucifer's hat fell into the offer of a hand shake.

It was Lucifer's turn to roll his eyes. He shook his head vigorously. "Nope! No deals!" He glared, slapping the hand aside. "You'll likely find some wiggle room no sane person would think to look for and I am not interested in being on the menu indefinitely."

Alastor didn't even bother to look contrite. He simply looked disappointed. Since the offer wasn't on the table, he withdrew his hand and straightened his posture. "Then what are you proposing?"

Yes, self, Lucifer thought, what are we proposing? He felt like he'd lost all direction in this conversation because he had no clue how his day had gone from 'put Alastor in his place' to 'let's let an actual cannibal bite us.'

Lucifer grasped for the last shreds of his dignity, realizing that he might have finally found something that ranked high enough to be added to the Top 5 Insane Things I've Done For My Kid list. It didn't stop the ever-so-slight tremor from creeping in, even as he tried for stern, as he offered, "I'll bring back the deer attributes, you get to satify your curiosity, and then we go back to whatever our usual is."

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "To be clear: I get to draw blood and you won't retaliate?"

There was no official deal, but it still felt like they were making one. "Yeah." Lucifer shifted, trying to shake off the last of his nerves and at least seem like he was confident. He was still absolutely sure Alastor couldn't deal him damage faster that he could heal from it, but his nerves didn't want to settle. "You get a freebie, no punishment or retaliation, in exchange for returning to the status quo."

Alastor's teeth sharpened visibly, the room growing darker around them.

"Deal."

Still feeling like this was going to come back and bite him in the ass - or, well, neck or arm, if one was being literal - at some point in the future, Lucifer made his way over to one of the chairs near the room's fireplace. He set his hat down on the seat, before pulling off his coat. He had a feeling this was going to be messy. Neck wounds often were, and he had a feeling Alastor wouldn't be satisfied with being offered anything else. He regretted the amount of layers he'd dressed in, even as he used untying his bow tie and unbuttoning the first several buttons of his shirt as a desperately needed delay tactic to simply breathe through what he was about to do.

Judging by the indulgence he could almost hear coming from Alastor's spot in the room, he held no such disillusions as to if the red head knew that he was stalling.

Taking a deep, steadying breathe, he pulled the shift over himself, falling deeper into it than he had during the trust exercise. Blond ears flicked into existence around small antlers on his head. Goat hooves morphed subtly into deer ones. A fluffy, equally blond tail twitched slightly at the base of his spine, in mirror of his anxiety.

Burrowing it all down, down, down, Lucifer gripped the edge of his shirt, yanking it down as he spun around, finally allowing a grin fit for his reputation to spread across his face from ear to ear. Tilting his head to the side in invitation, he asked, "Well, Alastor? What are you waiting for?"

Alastor control snapped with an audible static screech. Moving across the room with a speed that had kept him alive during his fight with Adam, Alastor near pounced onto his prize. The force of their collision sent them toppling to the floor, Lucifer's head just barely missing the seat of the chair. The impact with the ground drove the air from his lungs, and Lucifer didn't have the chance to even attempt to recover as he felt razor-sharp teeth sink into the tender flesh of his throat.

Lucifer's body spasmed as it attempted to draw in air, lungs needing a second to remember how to work and he was startled by the pain of attack despite knowing it was coming. He was finally able to draw a desperately needed gasp in as those teeth withdrew. Lucifer could feel it even without seeing the damage that of course Alastor had gone deep. It was definitely going to take him a hot second for it to heal, but heal it already was.

The Radio Demon, seeming to realize this, sunk his teeth in again. Lucifer's hands flew up to grab onto Alastor's arms at the new wave of agony coursed through him, squirming as he resisted the urge to shove the larger figure off of him. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood himself as he braced himself for Alastor taking his pound of flesh.

There was a creak, like bone grating against each other. Alastor shifted, teeth unmoving as he moved. As he made himself more comfortable, Lucifer realized as the shock of it finally began to abate and adrenaline flooded his system in response to the trauma. He had to swallow down the urge to laugh, knowing it would be more hysterics than actual humor.

He grunted as those teeth withdrew, surprisingly without taking a chunk of his neck with it. He was confused until he felt a warm, wet tongue slide over the wounds, chasing blood the color of gold regardless of what form the seraphim donned. Without meaning to, Lucifer flinched at the odd sensation. It was not quite pain, but not quite soothing.

As the pain began to recede, Alastor seemingly merely content to fill himself up with one of the rarest delicacies in Hell, Lucifer was able to take stock of his body. The bruises along his back from his fall were already healing almost as fast as they appeared. The deer tail, smaller and thicker than his normal, whip cord one, protested being squished the way it was. His ears twitched as they followed every noise Alastor made, the sensation odd.

Since this appeared it was going to take a moment, unless Alastor decided to go for his throat with his teeth again, he decided to try and relieve his poor tail to distract himself from the fact that it felt like there was a tongue digging into one of the still open wounds.

Alastor's own ears twitched as the shifting of Lucifer's hips caused the sound of clothes rustling to sound through the room like a shot. Lucifer was tempted to reach up and pet one, but that would have moved all of this into territory far too close to something intimate, which this very much wasn't, thank you very much.

When the pain finally disapaited, the lapping of that insidious tongue moving from stinging to something far too close to ticklish for comfort, Lucifer decided he'd had enough. "Alright, I think you've had enough."

He was far too proud of the fact that his voice didn't shake.

Much.

His fingers dug into red sleeves as he could feel Alastor's smile brush up against the base of his ear.

"And if I haven't satisfied my curiosity?"

Oh, no. Absolutely not.

"Nope, you're done." Lucifer bucked, shoving off the grinning asshole, who went with all the grace of someone who'd gotten thier cake and ate it, too. Lucifer sat up, glaring as Alastor looked barely rumbled while he knew he himself looked like a mess.

"There, you've gotten your taste. Agreement upheld." Lucifer pulled back up his shirt, wincing at how much blood had soaked into it.

"Hmm, perhaps." Alastor placed a finger to his lips, eyes half lidded.

Something about the way it was said raised Lucifer's hackles.

Alastor merely stared back, not adding anything to his comment.

Right. Okay. Whatever.

Lucifer stood slowly in an attempt to hide the way his legs trembled. Once he felt stable, he began putting his facade back together. Buttons all buttoned up. Blood vanished with a mere wave of his hand (to Alastor's obvious disappointment).

He was slipping on his coat when Alastor rose to his own feet. Lucifer felt it was massively unfair that all it took was some minor adjustments, and the Radio Demon looked as put together as normal.

(Almost, an insidious voice whispered in the back of Lucifer's mind. Look closer, and he could see the little ways in which Alastor was affected. The slight flush to his cheeks of a successful hunt. Unhinged smile replaced with something more peaceful. The satiated hint of hunger quenched for the first time since they'd met.

This way lays trouble.)

But Lucifer shook it off, just like he shook off the foreboding feeling of Alastor holding the Crown of Hell.

He was already in too deep.

He slipped his hat on, letting the deer attributes he'd donned finally disappear. "Well, see you around, I guess."

Alastor hummed in agreement. For his own sanity, Lucifer refused to read into it any deeper.

And if his portalling out of the room was straight up turning tail and running?

Well, it wasn't like it was the first time he'd done it that month.

Tbc

Part 4

[misspelledwordswizard]

Chapter 16 - Trying to get back to normal, I guess!?

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The first rays of morning sunlight passed through the leaves of the trees and touched my skin gently, bringing a feeling of pleasure and calm to my being. The Lost Woods were very peaceful, also full of magic, which my body was getting more and more used to. Even though this was a safe haven, we would be leaving today, after talking to the Great Deku Tree.

I was the only one awake so far, I had been awake for over na hour, in fact. I didn’t feel tired after having slept for two days, maybe a little mentally, but physically I was fine. The calm breeze surrounded me, carrying with it some dry leaves that brought na air of magic to this moment. Hyrule is a beautiful place and I never cease to be amazed by the natural magic that lives here so regularly.

Something large created a shadow next to me, catching my attention. The large man with marks on his face looked down at me gently and then sat down next to me. It was only now that I was able to give him due attention. Time had been without his usual armor since we arrived in the forest, and he seemed much more... approachable, if that makes sense. It was as if without the armor I could see him more as the mischievous boy he once was than the imposing hero figure.

— Up so early?

— Yeah, I wasn’t sleepy. – I replied with na awkward smile.

— Do you mind if I keep you company?

— Not at all!

That was, in fact, what I would like. I’ve been wanting to talk to him for a while now, before we arrived he seemed to have a lot of weight on his shoulders, and after everything that happened I imagine it’s even worse.

— How are you feeling? – I risked asking, not knowing how to start the conversation.

— I should be the one asking that.

— Well, yes, but all of this must be exhausting for you, right?

— Hm, yes, I guess so. I don’t like to see those I care about hurt or suffering, even though I have to keep myself in check, I can’t help but feel despair seeing the situation that was going on. – The Old Man said thoughtfully.

— I’m sorry for worrying you. I know you feel responsible for all of us, but this wasn’t something that could be controlled, in the end, you did everything you could and we were fine. – I tried to comfort him, but even with years and years of experience in this, I still feel lost whenever I try. – You don’t always have to be the best and have a solution for everything, Link. It’s okay to make mistakes, it doesn’t disqualify you as a leader, knowing your limits also makes you more prepared. Everyone understands this, they don’t expect you to solve everything for them, they expect you to work with them to find the best solution.

Time didn’t seem to mind my lack of ability with supportive words, he laughed softly and ran his hand over my head affectionately.

— You’re wise for your age, sometimes I even think you’re older than you look. – He joked and I had to hold back my despair at him getting so close to the truth.

— I’d like to say the same about you, but I can’t, because you’re old. – I laughed at his indignant expression, and in response he gave me a slight push and laughed too.

We spent a few more minutes in comfortable silence before another one of the boys woke up. Legend seemed in a good mood early in the morning, probably for the same reason as me, he just said good morning to both of us and walked away from where we were, to do who knows what. Then Wild woke up, he was excited, quickly heading towards the trees to greet the Koroks and get some fruit for breakfast.

Wars and Twi were next, they approached and joined us both in a peaceful conversation about mundane things or possible next places to go. Soon Four and Wind were also participating in the conversation, the youngest still sleepy. They chatted excitedly and considered what time we would stop next, the Sailor wishing it was his time, so he could show everyone how to sail and meet his Grandmother, his little sister and Tetra.

Still very excited about the idea of introducing everyone to Hyrule, the youngest was content to show me the rest of the Lost Woods, since I hadn’t had time for that before, so I said goodbye to the others briefly while the kid pulled me by the arm into the forest. Wind excitedly showed me the place that he himself barely knew, there weren’t many intriguing things to see, it was more like “there’s a big tree over there!” or “Look at that rock in the lake!”, but he was happy so I didn’t argue with his childish logic. Maybe he saw all this while I was sleeping and it stayed in his mind because he wanted to see it with me, and this idea warmed my heart, knowing that he would be thinking of me in such casual moments like this. I feel more and more attached to this child.

The Koroks were a little scared, most of them would run away or hide when they saw us approaching, probably not being used to human contact, there were few who accepted us well or even talked to us. After all, they were innocent, childlike spirits, so they got along very well with the Sailor, who seemed to be a magnet that attracted them.

At some point we just stopped explaining the forest and sat under the shade of a tree while some of our little green friends joined us to play. It was adorable, the Koroks are very gentle and cute, so I felt immense guilt when I remembered all the times I mistreated one of these little ones in the Wild games. God, that Korok crucifix will haunt me for the rest of my life.

— Do you miss home? – The Sailor’s voice brought my attention back to reality.

— Hm, home? Not exactly. I do miss my parents, but I don’t miss a specific place that I call home. That cabin was where I lived, but it wasn’t a home. – I said thoughtfully, contemplating my life so far. In fact, it was cozy, it was my refuge, but I don’t believe I can call it home.

— So it’s not so bad, right? When all this is over, you’ll have a beautiful house that you’ll be able to call home in time, and as a bonus, you’ve gained nine new friends from different times who will visit you and help make your house your home! – Wind said hopefully, it was comforting to see his optimism, that everything will be okay, that we’ll still see each other at the end of all this.

— Do you... consider me your friend?

— What? Of course you do! We’re friends, aren’t we?

— Yes, of course, I just didn’t know if you and others saw me that way. Sometimes I feel like I’m just someone you feel obligated to help...

— Don’t say things like that! You’re our friend, we may have only been together for a short time, and we may have gotten you involved in all this unintentionally, but you’ve become very important to all of us! Believe me, we wouldn’t act like this towards you if we only saw you as someone we should help. – The pirate spoke confidently and even seemed to be scolding me for my pessimistic thoughts, which made me laugh.

— Right! I’m glad, because I care about you too.

With that, our conversation quickly changed to trivial things, or Wind gossiping about his brothers’ quirks – not that I hadn’t already noticed how well Warriors takes care of his hair. We spent a good while like that, until I considered that we had been apart for too long and it would be better to go back to where the rest of the group was.

◇

As we approached the Great Deku Tree, I could notice that a serious conversation was going on there, it seemed like we got in the act, so I couldn’t fully understand. From what I could tell, Time was talking directly to the Deku Tree, some matter related to Sombra and the monsters that were appearing thanks to it.

— I see, then the best option would be to move forward with this, to find the source of these portals. – The deep voice of the oldest hero resounded, that’s when the others saw the two of us approaching and called us to join the conversation.

— Thou art wise to think in such a way, if thou want to fight such nefarious power it is of great necessity to have knowledge about it. – Deku Tree spoke with his erudite language.

— We will be leaving the forest in na hour, all of you be ready by then, we need to look for traces of the Shadow. – Time concluded, heading towards us.

That was enough for everyone to separate to organize their belongings, leaving me somewhat lost, not knowing where to go. I suppose I should also go after my things, but I was still thinking about what was happening.

— Are you okay? – Legend’s voice came from behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

— Hm? Oh, I am, just a little dazed.

— Don’t push yourself too hard, we should both take it easy for now, so we don’t become a burden to others, okay?

— Okay.

He raised his hand, bringing it closer to my shoulder, as if trying to comfort me, but stopped halfway, shyly stepping back. He sighed and looked away then just walked away, leaving me alone.

I headed inside the tree, where my things were. My belts and unnecessary accessories had been taken off me when I passed out to keep myself comfortable, and I hadn’t picked them back up until now. I made sure to equip my belt and sword and prepare for our upcoming departure. It would be sad to have to leave the peace and quiet of the Lost Woods, but it was necessary.

An hour passed quickly as I said goodbye to the little Koroks I had become friends with, and soon we were all gathered in the same place we had entered – even though I don’t remember having passed by there. As always, Wars was counting to make sure everyone was there, they always did that, I wonder if they hadn’t forgotten one of them before.

After confirming everyone’s presence, we started walking, leaving behind that comfort that for me had lasted so little. Leaving was easier than entering, both because we didn’t get lost and because I didn’t feel any pain or faint halfway. Even though I was doing very well, I still felt worried looks directed at me and I wondered if the Veteran was in the same situation.

— So, what’s the plan? – I asked, what I believe was everyone’s thoughts at the moment. Time turned to me for a while, considering how much he should tell us.

— We’re going back the way we came, we’re going to Central Hyrule.

— And why? – It was Wind who asked this time, as lost as I was.

— If there’s a place to start looking for the Shadow, it’s there. At least we should get some clues. – The Champion replied contemplatively.

With that, the conversation died, it was something we didn’t really like to talk about, it’s not a very fun subject to debate. Silence reigned in the Chain, and I wondered what would await us next, what we would need to sacrifice to end all this. Some questions in my mind were more personal, about why I had gotten involved in all this, or more philosophical, if perhaps I had reincarnated in this world precisely for this.

Soon we were back through the forest where we had previously separated, but this time silence reigned, where once there was a horde of noisy monsters, now there was only peaceful nature. This brought me inexplicable relief and comfort, part of the old anxiety that I had been holding onto finally dissipated, knowing that in the end they were all fine, even if they had had complications, was a great weight being lifted off my shoulders.

The sun coming out again brought with it a general good mood in the group, everyone seemed to calm down now with the comfortable warm weather, lively conversations arising. Since the monsters in the area had been recently eliminated, none of them felt apprehensive about making noises that could eventually draw someone or something’s attention, so it was possible to hear loud laughter and several of them talking at the same time in such a jovial manner.

Soon jokes between the boys began to appear, mostly silly things, childish road games, but all of this contributed to the pleasant atmosphere that had formed after so long. The comfortable breeze that surrounded us helped even more with this, with the sun’s rays passing through the leaves of the trees and projecting spots of light on the ground and on ourselves, making the environment even more beautiful. This place that had previously caused us so much anguish was now home to good times.

I could feel excluded from all of this, not feeling part of the group, but that was impossible with all the attention I received from them. This was unusual for most of my life, even though people were kind to me, when I was lonely and isolated they would just leave me there, without understanding that that was me unable to fit in. Now, everyone seemed to understand this, because they knew how to differentiate when I needed my time and when I just didn’t know how to interact, so to compensate for this they interacted with me until I was confident enough to join in their games. These boys were precious to me, in a different way than they are precious to others.

— Hey, do you want to see what I can do?! – Wind proclaimed to me excitedly, going a little further, getting ready and doing a cartwheel, showing me and his brothers like a child who wants to show everything he learns to his parents.

— Oh, when I was a child I could do that! But it’s likely that if I try nowadays I’ll end up all broken... – I rambled while lightly applauding the Sailor’s presentation.

— One more thing for the list of things you’re forbidden from doing during your punishment without dangerous activities. – Twilight joked next to me and I just stuck my tongue out at him in a childish manner.

The games and conversations continued all the way, with that the time went by quickly and soon we were passing in front of the stable where we had stayed previously. It was still early afternoon, so we wouldn’t be staying here to rest, after all because we’d already been doing that for a long time. We walked straight past the stable – not before a petting session with the local dog.

We continued walking down the road, the sun warming our skin, getting vitamin D after so much time spent molding inside a tree, no offense to the Deku Tree, of course. I could feel the energy returning to my body with this, as far as I know the sun is very important and greatly influences people’s happiness for several reasons. It’s a shame it burns the skin.

Wind moved away from where I was, going further ahead of the group to – disturb – talk to Legend and Hyrule. Sky took his place next to me, with a shy and gentle smile, and soon a conversation started between the two of us.

— How are you feeling?

— Very good, actually! Feeling the sun and stretching my legs seems to be what I’ve been needing all this time. – I commented, relaxing my muscles to prove my point.

— That’s good! I’ve been really worried about you and Vet, I know you’ve heard that before, but you two gave us quite a scare. – The hero commented and I nodded, embarrassed for causing such a mess.

— Sorry for worrying you.

— Don’t blame yourself, it wasn’t your fault, we should have been more careful with you.

— But I-

— No “buts”, it’s okay, seriously! The important thing is that you’re okay.

I still wanted to debate about it, but seeing that the blond wouldn’t give up, I concluded that it would be better to stop. I sighed in frustration only to laugh right after due to the hero’s stubbornness. This concern and annoyance that these heroes often show only makes me feel even closer to them. I know that it is still a very weak bond of relationship, but I also know that with time it will strengthen, or at least, that is what I hope.

◇

We were passing by the bridge when we were surprised by someone running towards us. A tall, slender man approached, he was wearing white clothes and carrying on his back a red bag that matched his hat. It wasn’t very difficult for me to identify him as the postman, but I’m almost certain that he shouldn’t be in the Wild era.

— Mail for Mr. Link! – He said as he handed letters to some of the boys, including Wind, Twilight and Time. – And to you, Miss. – He concluded by handing me a letter, which only confused me more.

— What? How do you know who I am? – I said, analyzing the letter. It was from my parents. They usually sent it to my house, but since I no longer have a house in that place, I imagine I wouldn’t receive it.

— We don’t know how it works either, we just accept it. – Four explained to me, leaving me even more confused.

I quickly opened the letter, and was met with things I would normally see in my parents’ regular letters, just them talking about how they were, asking about news, and telling me about something interesting that had happened recently. They had no idea what was going on, and I wondered what the best way to tell them about all this madness would be.

Before I knew it, the postman was speeding away from the group, heading the way he had come from, leaving us behind.

— Wait, he’s not from around here, is he? How did he get here? – I asked the boys who seemed to know as much as I did.

— We don’t know very well either, but if he’s around here he must have come from a portal, and a portal means that the Shadow is nearby. – Wild concluded, and then turned around and started running in the direction the postman had gone. – Come on, we can’t lose sight of him.

That was enough to make everyone start running too, following the path guided by the postman. Soon a group of nine men were running like children, desperate almost as if they were competing to see who would get there first. Being such well-trained heroes, they were really fast, even Sky ran fast enough to leave me far behind.

Desperate to catch up with them, I started running as fast as I could, adrenaline running through me as I felt energized and at the same time without the strength to do so. It wasn’t long before, in the middle of my clumsy run, I stumbled like na idiot. I saw the ground quickly approaching my face, but my encounter with it was expedited when strong hands grabbed me by the waist.

— Hey, can I get some help, Darlin’? – Twilight asked as she stood up. I was going to thank him, but before I could react, he picked me up in the air and threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. – Come on, we’re falling behind.

I couldn’t protest, because he started running madly while carrying me as if I weighed nothing, creating turbulence for me and preventing me from forming any sentence to defend my honor. We ran for a few minutes, but to me it seemed like na eternity, until we finally stopped when we seemed to have reached where everyone else was gathered.

Still on the Rancher’s shoulders, I stood up and twisted my body to be able to observe the portal that shone in na ominous tone in front of everyone.

— Are we going to go through this? – I asked, scared, drawing the attention of some of the boys to me, including Wind, who was laughing at my situation, that brat.

— Yes. – Time looked at me, and I could see his eyes full of empathy for my situation. – You can still give up, if you want.

— No, I’m in this with you, I don’t intend to abandon you. – I said as seriously as I could, considering my current state. – And you’re not going to put me down, are you?!

— Since you’re going with us, I think it’s safer for you to go through the portal with me. – Twilight defended his point, obviously just wanting to provoke by insisting on this, which made some of the idiots I call friends laugh.

I sighed and gave up complaining. One by one, the heroes started going through the portal, Sky was the last to go through before I went through in the arms of the Rancher, who at least had the decency to carry me in his arms bridal style instead of carrying me like a sack of potatoes. As I passed by, I felt a slight nausea as my head spun, trying to get used to the strong magic that ran through my body, and finally, I was taken by a strong, white light that followed me momentarily while my eyes struggled to get used to it.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was orange. Vibrant, big orange. A fucking giant pumpkin. The place had a large pumpkin a little far from us, and it had a door and windows; it was a restaurant. To our sides were pumpkin plantations that continued through the rest of the place, which in turn didn’t have much space, it was small, you could see its edges, like na island. But there was no sea around, the blue that surrounded the place was from the sky and only from the sky.

— What the Fuck! – I said surprised and scared as I was placed on the ground by Twilight, too shocked to notice this detail. I’m on a fucking island in the sky.

[tgrailwar-zero]

(Servant Zoom) Rider, we're going to a party!! oh oh! I'm assuming Saber's got a copy of the contract she signed without reading it from Jaguar by now, can you still look into that?

CONSTANTINE: "Our Saber just left for said party before I could ask."

CONSTANTINE: "As for you all... well, you do deserve a break. Just take care, okay?"

GIUSEPPE: "Well, we'll see what we can find out at the party. Let's go."

You returned the LITTLE GUY to... wherever he went when he was in your inventory, and made your way down the Megalopolis, following the instructions that GIUSEPPE had.

You recognized the building.

And then the floor number.

And then the penthouse.

This was DURYODHANA's place. You saw that it was full of people. Some of them were fighters, some of them weren't. The boss lady herself pushed through the attendees, approaching you.

JAGUAR MAN: "Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in!"

GIUSEPPE: "Madame Jaguar."

KUKULKAN: "Miss Jaguar!"

JAGUAR MAN: "So, you made it. Our Samurai is already at the bar if you're lookin' for her. Listen, I'm not gonna bug ya' over Bout stuff. Not unless you really wanna talk shop, that is. Right now, this Jaguar is sitting back and enjoying herself. The first round of fights and the finals are always the toughest to set up, so I'm relaxing. And while our 'Jishnu' is in one hell of a mood--"

Before she finished, DURYODHANA sauntered over.

DURYODHANA: "Uh-oh, my ears are burning."

JAGUAR MAN: "Ah… haha! There's my guy! Listen, Duryodhana. You're bein' real generous, lending us your place as a venue. Gotta say, we really appreciate it."

DURYODHANA: "Oh, I know. I know. There's no need to thank me. All are welcome here tonight. Drink and eat as you please- feast until you're full! No, even more than that! Dance, laugh, break a chair if you want! A window! Who gives a damn! I certainly don't! Ha-ha-ha!"

DURYODHANA: "Tonight, we have fun! It's the Flaming Bout, after all! A huge congratulations to all of my fellow fighters! Wahahahaha!"

He raised his glass, as the other guests let out a whooping cheer as he pushed his way back through the party. He seemed like he was in high spirits, considering his loss. Maybe a bit rowdy, sure, but this was a large celebration.

JAGUAR MAN: "He's spiraling."

Oh.

JAGUAR MAN: "The only thing keeping him sane is social praise. So just… ix-nay on the oss-lay, okay? Outside of that, enjoy yourselves. Mingle, chat, just don't do anything that'll turn into a PR nightmare for me, alright?"

With that, she waved and waded back into the crowd.

Well… the party seemed busy at least. You watched as KUKULKAN wandered off in one direction, and it seemed like GIUSEPPE simply vanished into the background.

You saw where KUKULKAN wandered off to. She was making small talk with a shy, yet ominous-looking man off in the corner. From the brief clip you saw, this was the WATERSIDE REVENANT.

IZOU and MUSASHI were making conversation by the bar.

It didn't take much effort to clock CITT, as massive as he was in the golden armor, idly speaking to a stylish-looking man.

You saw ORION floating by a masked man and a woman, who was idly yet irritably pushing him away with one hand.

Even though JAGUAR MAN said she was relaxing, you saw her making the rounds. Though she was also taking breaks, she just didn't seem like the type that could sit still for very long.

Then, of course, there was DURYODHANA. He was sequestered away from the rest of the party, idly drinking the night away.

[wraith-caller]

I didn't read the document you've sent to me, sorry hdghhgbv But:

Do you think D tried to kill Ensha upon first seeing him? Ensha's bones (and tongue that Alberich cut, apparently...) are literally golden and he was revered as 'Soulless King'! We learned from DLC that golden bones are of those who fought in Crusade and got buried with high honor, and the armor of Ensha is literally his remains, it isn't just a style! But the NPC is named Ensha, it IS him lol. He is dangerously close to Those Who Live in Death!!!

I assume he got raised from the grave by grace or maybe a deliberate ritual. I doubt he is a Tarnished because those are raised back into living in a good shape, otherwise many of them would be raised as corpses. But like..... do you think D would just jump at the guy the second he saw him at the Roundtable and others just had to hold him back like NOOOOO WAIT ffhfggnn

so your question delivered a vision to me

i have wondered what ensha's deal is now and then. i never thought to connect the blessed bone shards to the gold of his bones!! good catch. when you take that into consideration, it may be worth asking what does it mean to be blessed by the gold of the scadutree, as opposed to the erdtree? the remembrance of the shadow sunflower says the scaudtree is "Born of dark notions that bear no sense of Order, that twist and bend its stock, rendering it brittle", so it's interesting such a blessing would be considered a blessing at all. the thorn sorceries are also pretty negative, going on about rejecting everything due to marika's abandonment. ensha's sort of the opposite of that - 'lord of the lost and desperate', someone who may not be quite so quick with such rejections. if his golden bones are those blessed by the scadutree rather than something decorative done after his death in his honor, or something to do with the erdtree's grace, were the crusaders disillusioned by their abandonment those 'lost and desperate' that he was lord of? and if so, how'd he end up in gideon's company? and how is he soulless! that's always been the main thing to attract my attention because it's so in line with TWLID, but he has no other point of intersection with them. we can assume he isn't one, because he's a compatriot of gideon, and hangs out in a golden order stronghold. if the order is seeking to exterminate them, it seems weird to make this one exception. so then that just leaves you to wonder why or how is he soulless? at any rate, if ensha's bones are in fact his very being rather than a macabre costume, then yeah i agree it's doubtful he's tarnished! they get to keep their faces after all lol i definitely think darian encountering a walking skeleton in a place that's supposed to be safe from such things would catch him off guard! although it'd be quite a spectacle to get to watch them face off. maybe whoever's around would let them go at it for awhile if they're bored :] (also just going to tag @izar-tarazed bc ensha chat may be of interest to them!! but no pressure to respond or anything lol)

[fatedroses]

So I’m a new follower and I’ve been going through your adventurer zenos tag because I’m loving the idea a lot! But I don’t really know the history behind it. I’d love to know how you started thinking about it and would love to know how Xenia’s relationships with the WOL and the scions developed if you don’t mind me asking? Again im loving your art a lot!!!

First of all thank you for the follow and the ask, anon, and I'm always so happy to hear people are enjoying my art, and my goofy bits of theorycrafting, headcanoning and/or story writing- how ever people want to see it as. BUT- this has also unironically been stuck in my brain since the end of EW:6.0 (I was stuck with the zenos brainrot the moment I saw him at the end of heavensward v-v), and also because among my friend group Zenos is adored, so we end up chatting about this kind of stuff a lot. So, it is time for me to now yap here, beware some spoilers for both Endwalker and DT, and a very long post:

To be honest, the reason I ever even started thinking about it was just seeing Zenos' capacity to change as a character and him unintentionally helping people by just existing in some cases (the scene with Alisaie in Garlemald and the fact that he went to Krile for help so he could help us- reason aside- comes to mind mainly in regards to him changing, even if there are tidbits a bit earlier as well). And, that him imposing his help upon the WoL and the Scions is what I personally consider the most likely course (and I simply sit here and cope lmao I also just really want a minion of him eventually) if he was to return from the Ultimatum. 6.2-6.5 also added to it with both the mentions of him from Zero, the flashback of him over the handshake, and that I personally also saw Durante and Golbez's relationship as an analogy to Zenos and WoL (not helped by the fact that in EN Durante/the knight in black speaks in Zenos' cadence and uses the same armored talking animations but that's more on the meta side of it). I spent a lot of the time I put aside for character research being fascinated by his psychology and how he could grow, even if I will admit by now that what I have as his baseline is a bit of a house of cards, especially in things like his interests, or later potential interests. I base a lot of them off of the concept that he takes after Solus/Emet-Selch far more than is actually narratively stated or even implied, or from filling in the gaps of information with the possibility that implied information was not intentional/meant to be used in the way I use it. For example Varis exiling the theater ship was to get rid of something Emet cherished and for the sake of his own narrative, but something Zenos may have showed interest in too, only based off of how similar the theatrics Emet and Zenos use.

-

Now, as for his relationships, especially with the WoL (Meteor, default man in my case, its mainly because I ADORE the challenge and the experience of what we have as WoL's baseline due to, you know, the constraint of this being a linear narrative mmo lmao, as well as trying my best to stay canon compliant as possible when it comes to the scions' interactions) I write as starting off being exceptionally one sided. It comes from the idea that Zenos either gets himself out of the bubble (because it seems to be implied that this man cant actually return to the lifestream, and therefore can't perma-die, ironic to his character motivations) or with DT, shit goes so far south that we have to use the interdimensional chalice for his help, and that either way they're just kind of stuck with him thereafter. But I'll break it down because it's something that I've worked on writing, but haven't had the chance to draw out quite yet for some of what I'll talk about.

Meteor: It is no surprise that after the Telopheroi towers and Garlemald, on top of what happens during In From the Cold and the moon- that WoL goes from their more neutral, rivalry-leaning stance on Zenos, to pure anger and/or hatred. And this lets me write the dynamic between the two that is Meteor trying to move forward, trying to accept this change seeing Zenos try to help, and Zenos trying to pull away knowing at his core that he boned himself over ruining whatever unspoken trust they had, and given his position, not knowing if something like that could ever be mended, (and not quite knowing how to cope with even the idea that the man he cares so deeply about and kinda looks up to, might detest him just like how Varis did.) Overall it also just comes from the idea that these two overcoming any of their hurdles with each other suddenly makes them into the most terrifying duo, especially since I write Adventurer Zenos as a tank that will just eat all the damage so Meteor can be a stupid little shit with all the sharp objects he has at his disposal.

The Scions: So, imagine this giant super soldier is suddenly alive and in front of you again, offering to help/to learn to adventure for the plan of trying to see joy in this world. And you, knowing that he is right now the world's enemy, the one pinned with everything that happened during the final days, understand that it is highly unlikely that you or the others could reasonably kill him or imprison him for any meaningful amount of time. BUT, you can try to guide him on a better path. Begrudgingly, so that all that shit never happens again. That is what I have the scions stuck with, starting with the twins, then estinien and the students, and finally the wine trio. He doesn't apologize for anything, but he does also do whatever you ask, and overtime he starts (oh no) taking the same liking to the others that started with Meteor. The Scions are who I primarily use to explore the facets we've seen of his character, his protectiveness and the "rivalry" I write between him and Thancred, his curiosity and working alongside the Students and Urianger and Y'shtola, exploration and trying to understand the world better with Estinien, and him learning to connect with others through the twins, especially Alisaie who I imagine him kind of latching on to after she "helped" him, in his eyes.

All and all, adventurer zenos at its core is just what I personally see as his natural character progression going forward, spawned purely from my own curiosity of seeing his archetype of character in the position of having one last chance, and based off very extensive character research that started, honest to god, from me trying to just figure out the scenarios I wanted to draw him in that spiraled very very out of control lmao.

[snipsnipsnippy]

Alright I’ve been pushed. Now I’m in a Satine Kryze mood. And BOY do I wanna have a chat some of y’all are not ready for.

Satine and the New Mandalorians are the true Mandalorians. Or at least, they were the popular representation of Mandalorians. First things first, I want to remind everyone that the Mandalorian history we have post Clone Wars-era is entirely told by the surviving Mandalorians, who are.. a fringe cult and a terrorist group (ie The Children of the Watch and Death Watch) and any other surviving exiles or enemies (eg Boba and you know, the Jedi). None of these people lived in mainstream Mandalorian society so how are we to believe them on what “true” mandalorian culture is when their beliefs or actions were deemed so radical they were exiled (or in the case of COTW, left on their own accord).

Now, yes, Satine’s position of pacifism is very extreme. No fighting at all ever is a pretty questionable long term survival strategy and an incredibly divisive one, but it’s literally one the mandalorian people defended and accepted and even tried to bring to the Republic. Because considering the historical and political position Mandalore has been in, it was only this extreme strategy that could save it. It literally ended generations of civil wars. It united the remaining mandalorians and built survivable, architecture for the barren world (which probably saved the planet, but that’s a different theory). But Death Watch, you know the party that meant to overthrow and kill her, will tell you that this was an erasure of mandalorian culture and ignorance of their warrior history, but that’s not the kind of warrior we ever see outside of Death Watch.

Everything in mandalorian culture points us to this much more protective survivor, rather than this vindictive sort of conqueror. Foundling culture in the Mandalorians is so profound because it’s something that is so unique to them. Other cultures do adopt nonfamilial members, yes, but Mandalorians do it so wholeheartedly and without question. There’s a baby alone in the woods? I don’t care if it’s 4,000 years old or its a race that hasn’t been discovered yet, that’s your child now. The way mandalorian clans are structured such that a foundling is immediately no different than a blood relative, whether they come from the same species or star system. Nephews or daughters or neighbors are all the same to a mandalorian (and a hot mention to mando’a for throwing out gender biases too). They are fiercely protected and fiercely loved too. Every excess that exists in mandalorian society goes to their children. To their education, their protection, the survival of the next generation was most important to a mandalorian society.

Even something like beskar, their very armor, was prized for protection, not for offensives. There’s a whole lecture on how beskar came to be metal of choice, but it boils down to being, guess what?, the best defense against lightsabers. And we see Mandalorians come out with the best armor design in like literally all of Star Wars armors ever. I’m not joking. It’s made for visibility, for protection, for comfort, and for not dying. Their identity is their armor. Its value and its design is sacred to each clan because it is forged from their history and painted with its battles.

So working back to Satine, who was raised learning all of this history, learning the ways of her warrior people and seeing the culture stray from what was once a people built for surviving and then watching it kill them, watching it tear apart her family and her home, and for a year, it even tore her away from her identity. She stands up to this massive swath of the deadliest fuckers in the galaxy, and she says “no.” She doesn’t raise a sword. She doesn’t point a blaster. She knows how. She was the fucking mandalorian princess. Clan Kryze was deeply respected. Her father died a hero to these people, and for her to stand up without using force or weapons takes a shit load of courage and some uniquely mandalorian stupidity. All to save their future, their culture, and their children. She said “kill me if you wish but spare the kids” and at the time, she can’t be any more than 20 because timelines are rough. She’s probably still just an orphaned teenager herself. This is the wake up call that broke the Mandalorian Civil Wars.

This is the Most Mandalorian stunt a mandalorian has ever mandalorian-ed since Tarre Vizsla himself told off the fucking Jedi.

She’s the savior of her culture, and Death Watch burned it all down because they wanted to kill, not protect. Satine was more a mandalorian than most of the Mandalorians we see. More mandalorian than her sister will ever be, and Bo won’t even speak her name.