#he does anything but actually guard the coast

[plaguedbirds]

another beasty for your viewing pleasure

[sleepinghypnos]

The Creed...

Chapter 1 - Penthouse

Genre: Smut

Tags: F/M, F/F/M, F/F/F/M, Facefuck, Throatfucking Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Harem, Self-degradation, Masochism/Sadism(?), Cum Play, Piss Play

(The things in the tags will be present when the time needs for it.)

Disclaimer: This work is a fan-fiction and does not depict the person/people mentioned in the story.

A/N: You can self-insert if you want...

--

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!

"What is it? I'm preoccupied, so make it quick." Vlad answered the call.

"Fine. Just send them to my house... but I will not be responsible if something happens to them." He replied with his slightly deep voice and end the call.

*Silenced Gunshot*

"Blame your competitor, not me." Vlad immediately packed up his sniper rifle and fled the scene while remembering what one of his close associates in the entertainment industry said few moments ago, he begged him to accommodate a number of female K-pop idols for the purpose of strengthening the bond between idols through a experimental project wherein they live together as Tenants, cameras will not be present just them living together and at the end of their time as tenants they will do an interview regarding the way of life living with other k-pop idols aside from their respective members. In this way, the fandoms of each k-pop group will stop fighting over trivial things on the internet and support other idols.

Vladimir Creed was a 26 year old Half-European and Half-American man. His parents died in a car accident when he was still a child and only his grandfather is his only family left. He's living a lavish lifestyle full of money, expensive cars and women...

His family or more like his grandfather founded a huge company in America and owns many stocks in the entertainment industry in Korea and since Vlad is not someone who actively makes himself noticeable or well-known, he parties without revealing his true identity to anyone with a few exception of course, he has few actual friends and all of them are also young masters of their own families just like he was and he rarely expresses his emotions so he has a hard time managing it.

In his typical days, he spends most of his time just relaxing in his penthouse, in which he bought himself with his own money. though it may seem strange since he parties every chance he get, he has a very unique talent and that is being a hired gun that even his grandfather didn't know.

And while relaxing, he usually goes naked after a shower because there is no one in the house, It's is personal space after all. His maids and butlers will only come if they were asked for and he cooks for himself.

His penthouse is in a small island near the coast and there is only one bridge connected to it. So, guests who'll visit the island can use the bridge without the need of boats.

...

Vlad arrived at his house but welcomed by cars parked near the main gate. "What the fuck is this?" He said to himself, he got out of his car to check what's going on then he remembered Eunseok, one of his close associates said few hours ago. "Now it makes."

Then he called one of the guards to let him pass, and so they did. He drove and the people blocking the path dispersed and he got in smoothly.

"Let them in, they are going to live here indefinitely." Vlad announced to the guards and went inside to change.

Most of the people outside the penthouse are already inside the living area, he saw the k-pop idols waiting for the master of the house.

"I'm Vladimir Creed, but you can call me Vlad. I'm the owner of this house, my friend already told me what you guys are going to do. So feel free live here." and he looked at managers of each of the group "There are places in the house that is not available, I don't care if they used the swimming pool, drink at the bar." Pointing at the wet bar near the kitchen. "Or anything, but, all of third floor is off limits because that's where my room is located."

The producer nodded and introduce the idols that will be living with him in the house.

He extended his hand for a handshake to ITZY's Yuna and Ryujin, Aespa's Karina and Winter, (G)-Idle's Soyeon and Miyeon, Red Velvet's Irene, Seulgi, and Joy, and Twice's Sana, Mina, and Nayeon which they received with a smile.

--

One day has passed, the girls are eating lunch in the long refectory table since they woke up late just like Vlad was and the maids and butlers were there to assist them.

After lunch, the Red Velvet and Twice members were gathered in the backyard, enjoying a beautiful sunny day by the pool. They were relaxing and chatting about their recent performances, when they suddenly heard a splash from the pool.

Curious, they all turned to see Nayeon filling up a water gun and aimed at them. Panic set in as they scream and run around the pool to avoid getting wet since they just want to enjoy the sun.

Running made them exhausted and they decided to have a friendly water fight. Joy and Seulgi teamed up against Sana and Mina, Nayeon and Irene. Laughter and screams filled the air as they chased each other around the pool, trying to get each other wet

In the living room, Ryujin and Karina were sharing a bucket of ice cream while watching a romantic K-drama. They were joined by Soyeon and Miyeon, who couldn't resist the delicious smell of the popcorn. They all cuddled under a blanket, enjoying the show and teasing each other about their favorite characters. Yuna and Winter are busy doing some tiktok challenge.

As the sun set, the members of ITZY, Aespa, and (G)-Idle joined their sun-kissed Seniors in the pool. They all gathered around the pool, sharing stories, and having a heart-to-heart conversation. For a moment, the backyard was filled with the sound of their laughter and friendship.

As the night came, they all gathered in the living room to watch a movie together. They munched on some snacks and cuddled on the couch, enjoying their time together. It was a perfect day off for all of them, a day filled with laughter, bonding, and memories that they will cherish forever.

Karina asked the butler where Vlad was and she was led to the study where he spends time if he's not doing anything.

When Karina entered the study, she was met with a tall, imposing figure staring at her from behind a large oak desk. Vlad's dark hair was slicked back, and he exuded a sense of power and mystery. Karina couldn't help but feel a pull towards him, she already know that this man is handsome the moment she land her eyes on him earlier in the morning.

"Um, Sir? I just want to asked if we can have some of the liquor in the wet bar." She asked while slowly approaching him.

"Didn't I told you girls that you can do whatever you want with the wet bar?" He answered and walked to towards her. "And you're asking me when you already half drunk."

Karina got embarrassed but it faded when a faint smile appeared on Vlad's lips, she was mesmerized. "Are you sure that's the reason why you're here?" he was close to her, Karina needs to look up just to meet his eyes.

Karina pulls him for a kiss and reciprocated it with the same intensity. It started as vanilla kissing until in turns into something like animals in heat and eventually began to make out with insane passion. Vlad grab her waist to pull her closer, her hands were hugging his neck.

He noticed she wanted more and so he obliged and brought one hand to feel up her breasts which made Karina moan between their kisses.

Their kiss was passionate, Vlad keeping her in his arms while she let herself be consumed by him. It lasted for few minutes until they both stopped quietly staring at each other.

"D-did you like it?" Karina said while catching her breathe.

"I did, your lips are sweet with a hint of whiskey... you really were half drunk." Brushing his thumb on her lips. "Want me to lead this time?" he asked her while caressing her face.

"Yes, please." Karina said.

“Do you think could handle it?” Vlad responded seemingly showing concern.

Karina nodded. “I did have my own few boyfriends before...”

“I won't doubt it but... I get rough. Really rough. I'm sure it's something you haven't experience before..."

“You are worrying about me and that's sweet but I think I'm gonna be fine... please don't hold back and just give it to me.” She said while making a serious face.

Vlad's hand roam towards her neck and stayed there and slowly gripping it. Her cunt throb as they kiss again and slowly stripping each other’s clothes off, his hands still in her neck slightly choking her.

As their bodies got liberated from their clothing, Vlad immediately attacks Karina's big breasts making her moan, her hands couldn't resist to push his head closer. His other hand goes to Karina's precious treasure and starts invading it.

"This fucking slutty tits of yours keeps leering people on." Vlad said while groping her breasts and assaulting them with his tongue...

"Fuck! Yes! It feels good, sir." Karina said.

Which made Vlad riled up even more. "Sir?" He stopped groping her breast.

"You don't like being called like that? I'll change it." She said while pleading to continue to pleasure her.

He doesn't like getting called Daddy/Oppa. The women he's been with keeps calling him that and he got bored by it, now he prefers to called by his name but this time around is different.

Sir? of all the things that someone can be called... Sir is the one getting him riled up.

"No, keep it that way... now get on your knees whore." Vlad said with a commanding aura. “I’m going to use your mouth as a fleshlight. Pull my cock out.”

Karina didn't expect the monster hiding beneath his pants. She could see the bulge of his massive cock. Now she knows why he said 'Something she haven't experience before.' because it's true. He is much bigger than the guys she's been with. So much bigger. She feels hotter and hotter than usual.

Vlad's dick stands proud at 10 inches and is almost girthy as a water bottle.

“You are so massive, fucking massive!” Karina said as she freed his cock and hit her in the face. She stare at his huge member mesmerized by it.

“My god! Why are you so big? Can you even use this?” She said as she grabbed his cock with with both hands. "And you're going to use my mouth with this thing?"

"What? Are you scared? I told you I'm rough and I mean it." He said seriously. "You are going to take every inch of my cock in your throat whether you like it or not."

Karina got nervous but her lust towards him is much heavier.

She showered his cock with kisses, admiring every inch, as if she's worshipping his massive member.

"Suck it." And she did, she gives him a slow and sensual blowjob, keeping her eyes on him.

"You came in her just to do that?"

“What do you mean, Sir?”

He grabbed her by the hair she opened her mouth and swallowed as much of him as she possibly could.

COUGH COUGH COUGH

Relaxing her throat as she let his girthy cock push through her throat. She struggled for a minute and he's watching her giving herself to him.

Vlad guides her and she bobbed her head up and down to see how deep she could take him over and over and over again. Her eyes were tearing up, saliva dripping down as she takes his girthy cock in her throat.

She taps his legs but Vlad ignored her protests and stayed in her throat. "I told you, I'm rough... you don't know what you get yourself into."

He is fucking her throat with reckless abandon and not caring if she can still breathe. Few seconds more and he let go and she breathe hastily. "Sh-shit! I almost passed out." She coughs. "Fuck!"

"Just accept your role as my slut from now on." He slaps her face with his massive heavy cock.

He forced his cock back into her throat. She gives in, letting this man use her mouth and throat as a fleshlight. Her eyes were rolled back into her head.

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

Her moaning and gagging sounds filled the study, the moonlight touches her silky white skin enhancing her beauty further while her throat is getting violated. Even though she already accepted her fate, she still needs to breathe and she tried to struggle for air but failed.

“MMMPPHKKKK!” She resists and got ignored.

“Just stay there, don't regret your decisions now.” Vlad said and spent another three seconds before letting Karina go.

She chokes and gags even though she's already freed from that monster of a cock. “Did I... do a good job, Sir?” She asked noticeably exhausted. She then received another batch of throatfucking and this time, it's much easier but it still hurts.

GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK GLUCK

She's taking it like a good little slut, moaning and groaning every time Vlad thrusts too deep in her throat. Karina became accustomed to the massive rod destroying her tight throat and she slowly but surely loving the way he manhandle her without any care about her well-being.

"I'm cumming you little slut!" He said and starts speeding up in his assaults. After all of this, he gave her some leeway and pull his cock out of her mouth. "Want to drink it?"

“YES! T-thank you, feed me your c-cum! Please sir, I'm begging you!!!” She said before he shoved his cock back into her mouth again.

Vlad reached his climax and poured it all in Karina's throat, he releases an obscene amount of cum like he's been holding it for long while. She willingly swallow every bit of it. Few ropes of his cum left in her mouth, she put on a show by gurgling, swirling her tongue cover of his cum then swallowing it.

“Oh my god... fucking hell... that was heavenly!” She said as she crawled over to him and started to lick his shaft cleaning it. “I need to be treated like that again, Sir. Please! You are right, I never experienced that before..”

"Oh, That's only the beginning little slut." He said while grabbing her in the neck and pulling her up.

A/N: Another Series that I might abandon but... oh well. I planned on doing the Bodyguard EP. 6 but idk when to actually do it.

[green-eyedfirework]

The first key to successful undercover work is to believe you aren’t undercover.  To truly inhabit the persona you came up with, to reach for that instead of anything else when scared or angry.  To think of real life as a particularly lucid dream instead of reality.

After half a year undercover, Dick thinks he’s pretty much got the hang of it.  It helps that the cover is so close to a reality that-could've-been--sent to juvie after his parents were murdered, ran away from his foster family after presenting as omega, on the fringes of society, wandered to Bludhaven and ended up getting in after Wilson's First Son spotted him while bartending and offered him a better job.

Also helpful that the circus never kept actual records, Dick was marked down as 'John Doe' in juvie because he refused to speak to them, and Bruce created his legal identity practically out of thin air, so there are only a handful of people that know the name Dick Grayson in the first place.  A combination of boarding school out-of-state and distance from his rich, reclusive foster father meant that he has very little of an online social presence, which of course, makes Detective Richie Wayne a great candidate for a long-term undercover job with the Wilson Mob.

The other key to successful undercover work is to develop a finely honed sense of paranoia, and right now, all of Dick's detectors are on screaming alert.

"What?" he said, staring at Wintergreen's unsmiling face.  Usually he didn't question his orders, but usually he wasn't ordered to accompany Slade Wilson to an unspecified meeting.

Every time he was in touch with his handlers, he had to tell them that Wilson was both suspicious and not stupid, it was going to take time for Dick to get close to him, but Bludhaven PD was not known for its patience.

"I said, your job tonight will be accompanying Slade as his personal guard to a dinner meeting," Wintergreen repeated, looking annoyed.

"Why me?" Dick asked, unable to fully suppress the anxiety.  Luckily, he was expected to be anxious--Dick hadn't made himself out to be ambitious and he hadn't interacted much with the elder Wilson at all.

"He requested you personally.  I didn't care enough to ask why."

"Calm down, Dickie, my dad doesn't bite," Grant snickered, his arm casually looped around Dick's shoulders.  "I've told him how well you performed on the Bulgari job, maybe he just wants to see for himself."

Dick turned to give Grant a tremulous smile and wished it was that simple.  But Dick had felt Slade Wilson's eye following him around on more than one occasion, lingering on him when Grant made his reports, and giving him casual once-overs that Dick had no trouble recognizing.

The real reason Detective Richie Wayne was sent for this undercover mission--the department had few omega police officers, and fewer that corresponded to Slade Wilson's reported tastes.  Of course, they couldn't outright come out and tell him to prostitute himself to the East Coast's biggest mob boss to get them intel, but Dick wasn't naive.  The 'hints' had starting becoming more explicit as his handler got increasingly impatient.

And now the opportunity had landed in Dick's lap.

"That makes sense," Dick said, suppressing the tight ball of dread and shoving it down.  "I won't disappoint Mr. Wilson."

Grant scoffed at the thought and dragged Dick out to head to dinner.  Wintergreen didn't say anything, just continued to stare at Dick with that unnerving gaze until Dick was out of his office.

Dick, for his part, tried to remember how to breathe.

[dxxdhood]

early morning

pairing: jason todd x gn!reader

summary: you comfort Jason on a bad morning.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, fluff

wc: 0.6k

A part of Jason still couldn’t believe he was here to see it. The light filtered through the blinds, revealing your sleeping face just barely peeking out from under the blankets. If he focused hard enough, he could hear the quiet sounds of your snores breaking up the silence in the room.

Your face, so entirely at peace– he didn’t want to disturb it by getting up to brush his teeth or start on breakfast. So, Jason settles into the pillows still pushed up against the headboard, and gazes down at his scarred hands.

So much he’s had to learn, to have drilled into him, by Bruce or plenty of others worse than him. Emphasizing how to cope with the unexpected. How to be ready to throw an opponent off guard no matter what advantage they may have. But here, lying next to you in your shared room, he’s unsure. How is he supposed to face the peace, the quiet,  the happiness?

He’s fine. He feels completely safe, most definitely for the first time in years, if not his entire life. So why does his chest feel so tight, like any sudden movement would have him unraveling?

You blink awake then. If Jason didn’t know better, he’d think you were able to hear his thoughts. But your face is pinched in concern, only trying to make sense of why your partner seems so tense this early in the morning.

“Hey,” you start, reaching a hand to place on his shoulder.

Jason fights the instinct to push it off, and instead chooses to savor the warmth. “Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s alright,” you look outside, the blinds doing nothing to curb how bright the sun has become. “I was going to wake up soon, anyway.”

He doesn’t say anything, eyes shifting back down to coast across the scrapes of his legs instead of facing you.

“Jason, is something wrong?”

“No,” he answers immediately. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s great, actually. I’m here, I have everything I need…” he flicks his gaze up to yours. “I have you.”

You scoot closer to him, draping your other arm across his other shoulder, hugging him from behind. Your head behind his own, gently nuzzling the back of his neck. He can feel the heat of your skin through your sleep shirt, completely enveloping him, and he has the sudden urge to cry. 

Just as you start kissing down his neck, making your way down his vertebrae, you hear his shudder of breath. You place you head on his shoulder and slowly turn to face him.

He’s closed his eyes by now, trying to keep the tears at bay for long enough to convince you he’s fine. He’s sure it’s not working by how your hand is running against his jaw and cupping his cheek.

“Jason, look at me.”

He’s almost shivering, but he manages to open them again. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong, it’s just… It’s a bad day.”

You go back to hugging him, then. Both of your arms completely wrapped around him as you slowly pull him back to laying comfortably in your bed. You spoon him from behind and you listen to his breathing slow, then quicken, then slow again as he falls back asleep in your arms.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

Hand over the little beasts

on it boss!! o7 this took . fuckig Forever bc i had t doodle everyone since the screencaps i have for them have like 5 pixels Total and would be Incomprehensible so <333 Behold My Beasts!!!

team control team!! they r so silly 2 me :] more abt em under th cut bc uhhhh. yknow.

- Jacob - Snow White's Apple (+Penitence) my first little guy!!! he has a very serious and to-the-point demeanor, and has a very flat inflection on... pretty much everything about himself. he's the one that most embodies his role, for lack of a better term. takes his job very seriously, and intends to do well. his attitude is very dry, but he is very genuine and earnest when it comes down to it in an odd sort of way. he's the type to say something completely off-the-wall entirely stone-faced, and will oftentimes take things said to him in a similar manner. there isnt that much that seems to be able to catch him off guard. if theres something in his way, then he will simply have to overcome it. he'll try anything once. jacob is very intent on keeping things orderly, and will enforce this with his peers if he needs to. bluntly. chaos and a lax attitude are the catalysts to things going wrong, so its as simple as minimizing the chances for this to occur. simple. despite his nagging with the rest of the team, he means no sharpness by it-- he's direct (and maybe a bit... heavy-handed,) but he simply talks to others the way he would address himself, and sees nothing wrong with it. (unfortunately, this makes him come across as rude more often than he'd like... not that hes usually aware.) because of his unexpressive exterior, its oftentimes very difficult to get a grasp on how he thinks or feels about things-- especially since he himself seems to pay it very little heed, even when he Maybe Probably Should. one of the ones most likely to work himself to death without realizing it. hes doing his best ok.

- John - Sound of a Star (+Wingbeat, Hornet) very lax and lackadaisical-- hes insistent on doing what he needs to and very little else. in fact, he makes a very big show of it; always taking his sweet time, not really showing concern for much of anything, even when things are, as they say, Kind Of Really Bad. (Jacob tends to need to prod him along more often than not.) despite this, john is actually one of the more reliable agents of the facility-- always getting things done thoroughly and efficiently with very little instance of error. truthfully, he's actually very prideful in the work that he does, and quite enjoys showing off his skills when he gets the chance. infuriatingly, he tends to respond to questioning of his abilities with a flippant "im just that good." and well... its honestly what he believes. truthfully, he has a complete aversion to genuineness of any kind-- responding to questions with snarky remarks or quips, complaining about assignments, cracking jokes in the face of catastrophe. its... honestly more of a nervous habit than an active choice. in his eyes, if he cant do anything about an issue, theres simply no reason to worry about it. and so he coasts along, completely unruffled on the surface. at first, he didnt really see what the big deal was about the facility. everyone always spoke like it was a death sentence-- but it was just kind of poking some creature or another and leaving a few times a day and that was it. so he let his attitude reflect that. but once things started climbing, he began to slowly understand just how out of his depth he was; and his demeanor... didnt change. why should it? why bother? confidence was half the battle anyway, no point in showing your weakness. honestly, he has no idea what hes doing and simply acts the part-- it just hasnt burned him yet. (not to mention, with how serious the rest of his team was... well, they could use the encouragement.) and well, if it works... who cares about what lies underneath, right? no big deal. just get good.

- Jose - Lament (+Lament) the asiyah layer's special errand boy. for a good while, he was the team's most skilled employee-- always taking care of things cross-department due to being the only one who could really cover that role. watching newbies, working with new abnos, tackling faraway ordeals... that was all on him. and he didnt mind at first, really-- he enjoyed doing good work, being relied on by his peers... but um, well, he'd love maybe a little break, once or twice, thats all... but there's always more work to do, so... he was the first to work with fotb-- certainly not the last, but definitely the most Common. he also happened to be the most Receptive to it. already he was pretty high-strung from the pressure of his responsibilities, but... it was safe to say things reached an entirely new level after that. he wasnt used to abnormalities being so reasonable, for lack of a better term, nor to be able to just... have a conversation, like that. maybe he was listening just a bit too genuinely. they dont want anyone to die. they really dont want anyone to die. but theres nothing really they can do. just keep running! just keep your head up! if anything else, just stay alive! but at this point, death really isnt the worst thing that could happen to them in a place like this. truly, the worst has already happened. there's no escaping the facility, after all. but what could he do about that? so he repeats like a mantra; just dont die. just dont die. please just dont die. he wants to do good so fucking bad. so much is on his shoulders, and he Has to carry it. its practically compulsive. he has to do it because nobody else can. nobody else should Have to. and so he fusses over just about everyone, completely unable to speak of Why it is he's suddenly so skittish-- especially because of just how busy his responsibilities keep him. he just cant stop. theres no time. every second wasted is another chance something could happen. not once, though, did he really worry about himself. the contrast was stark-- constantly running himself ragged for the sake of others, yet paying no heed to his own safety. all that mattered was carrying out his tasks... which made things difficult as the stakes kept rising, but his own capabilities did not. the people he worried about were suddenly able to do things he couldnt even imagine-- and he was struggling paces behind them. he pretends not to notice how much more of his time is spent waiting. its... how do you deal with worrying about those facing trials far beyond anything you know, and you yourself are fully unable to reach them? it was best not to worry about it. ...he was never much good at that, was he?

- Mabel - Mimicry (+Noise, Mimicry, Our Galaxy) hes just some guy. like... he just works here. kinda stands out like a sore thumb, honestly, because of how strikingly... normal he was. a little awkward but well-meaning, prone to wandering (and slacking off...) he mostly just took care of smaller tasks and issues for a while-- coming in so late comparatively, he fell pretty far behind, pretty much just working on zayin level abnormalities well past day 20 or so. more often than not, he was the only one in the control team's main room while everyone else took care of pressing tasks cross-facility, only getting to share a word or two of pleasantries before they had to run off again. he knew the work was important, but... well, everyone always looked so sullen. he could never really understand why-- and whenever he brought it up, it seemed to just sour the mood... after a while, he just stopped trying. things suddenly changed, though, when the facility got its first aleph: nothing there. and somehow, he was decided to be most fit to work with it. it was strange, to say the least, mostly taking care of things that barely seemed to acknowledge his presence and then suddenly... that. hed be lying if he said he wasnt afraid, but this was his job, and he was trusted with it. so obviously that meant they knew he could do it, right? right. things switched around very quickly. he wanted to say it wasnt a bad thing, but... it was weird, is all. going from some nobody standing alone and aimless to... tackling things that shouldnt exist, killing things with power he isnt sure is really his. a lot of things were suddenly like that, honestly. he. suddenly feels like he has to be on his best behavior. um. is this thing on? manager are you seeing this? he gets a lot quieter after that. as it turns out, hes very harsh when he doesnt mean to be. hes honest, but sometimes that honesty could hurt. hes a bit intense… everyone else was, so it kinda rubbed off on him. hes compensating for his own lack of interest in bloodshed. he wants to be respected, but it just ends up scaring people. he isnt quite sure how to stand up for himself now. he just does what hes ordered bc hes never had a choice before, so why now? he needs to figure out who he is again– the ego did quite a number on him. he kinda fucks up on interactions way more than he thinks he used to. he keeps himself small and quiet so he doesnt accidentally trample over anyone. (he doesnt like the strange looks the clerks give him now. he doesnt exactly Like his ego gear or what it does to his brain, but it keeps him safe, so... hes here to help, remember? don't be scared...) honestly, he does really yearn for kindness and gentleness. its just… hard to admit. especially to people he still subtly thinks are above him. hes not stupid. he knows abandonment when he sees it. he cant really blame them for it, but… it still hurt, yknow? he wasnt Supposed to be anything, which was insulting, but now that he Is everyone treats him so differently, and somehow thats even More insulting. hes more than just a machine yknow… but, well, if that's his job, then. whatever.

theyre basically just.... a bunch of randos who are all trying their best, got disillusioned and distant, then suddenly clung together after realizing just how fucked everything was all of a sudden. theyre all overwhelmed, but theyll be damned if they dont look out for each other. jose was team captain first, but after some shuffling, the title fell on jacob. they all seem much happier with this.

they all honestly bounce off of each other really well despite everything-- jacob keeps everyone facing the right direction, quickly and calmly guiding the team. john provides a more lighthearted energy, but also is very skilled at keeping a level head and offering clarity when the others get overwhelmed. jose and mabel both cover for everyone else, but Especially each other after their own respective... trials. despite The Horrors, theyre all honestly keeping each other together very well.

bbbbut thats only four of them right? five to a team and all. well the fifth is um, well. yknow, its. well,

(also heres everyone elses sprites from various places in th playthru bc ilove them :] yay)

[blackjackkent]

OK, so one of the things I've been looking forward to most in Rivington is unleashing Rakha on the asshole kennelmaster. Because if there's one thing Rakha actually has a real good relationship with, it's doggos.

She does stop in the post office briefly, which she mostly finds baffling, as the postmaster spends the whole time rambling at her about how something is killing all his carrier pigeons. This is, for Rakha, an exhausting combination of inane and interesting to the dark urge in her head, so she leaves again as quickly as possible.

But on the way out, she hears the sound of barking and does a hard pivot out into the yard.

The game has the kennelmaster speak first when you talk to her, which leaves me free to indulge my headcanon that Rakha approached her to ask, completely guilelessly, if she could pet all the dogs.

Unfortunately, the kennelmaster is an asshole.

"Woof!"

Rakha squints at her, taken fully off-guard by this greeting. "What?"(*)

"Ah. You speak. Which means you're not a dog. So what the hell are you doing in my kennels?"

Rakha dislikes her at once; immediately the beast sets up a low-level growl at the back of her mind, speculating on the possibility of chopping the woman up and feeding her to the dogs, bit by bit.

"I'd like to buy a dog," she says abruptly. She didn't have this plan when she came in, but it's as good a reason as any for being here, and if Scratch and Buddy make her feel better in camp, it stands to reason that another dog would also help. And it distracts her, briefly, from the immediate thoughts of murder.

The kennelmaster scowls. "They're not for sale," she snaps. "These are courier dogs - trained to follow orders, read maps, and protect their deliveries with their lives. They're worth more than their weight in gold."

Something clicks into place in Rakha's head. The place they found Scratch, holding guard over the body of a fallen courier with letters in his pack. The keen intelligence with which the dog navigates the roads they travel. Scratch came from this place, from one of these cages.

"I think I found one of your dogs," she says. "Scratch."

One of the woman's eyebrows quirks up almost imperceptibly, and a keen, narrow look flashes across her face. Then it's replaced, abruptly, by a wide, ingratiating smile. "Found him, did you?" she asks. "I can't say I'm surprised. Gomwick never kept him on a tight leash." She laughs airily. "Bring him here and I'll give him a once-over for you. Check him for worms and so on."

Her assistant, a beleaguered-looking gnomish boy, perks up eagerly at this discussion. "Oh, yes please! I'd love to see him!"

"He's a good dog," the kennelmaster agrees. "We'd both love to see him again."

Rakha squints cautiously at the woman for a moment. This is a massive shift in her demeanor from a moment ago, and the dislike it prompted still sits like a sour taste in Rakha's mouth. But... what they're offering is something good for Scratch, and Scratch has earned that, being one of the things against which Rakha steadies herself in camp...

She nods slowly.

Whistle for Scratch.

Scratch trots in eagerly at the summons - but as Rakha watches, his entire attitude shifts in the space of a moment.

His ears go back, his tail goes down, and he makes a soft whimpering noise unlike anything she's ever heard from him. And it doesn't take much thinking to guess what this means.

The boy, of course, isn't at fault. His excitement at seeing Scratch alive and well seems quite genuine. But the kennelmaster is another story.

"Shut up, Dringo," she snaps at the boy as he moves to greet the dog. "And get back to work!"

She turns, lifting a hand threateningly, and smirks with satisfaction to see Scratch at once cower back behind Rakha's leg. "And you've been slacking as well, Scratch, m'boy," she snarls. Her eyes flick up to meet Rakha's. "This dog is property of Sword Coast Couriers," she says icily. "I'll take him off your hands now.

Ice floods Rakha's veins. Betrayal. This is a trick. The woman lied to get Scratch into the yard, played on what little good faith Rakha has, and now means to take Scratch from her.

And the woman is cruel. She threatened to strike him. He is afraid of her. That means she has struck the blow in the past.

Kill. Kill. Kill her. Punish her. Rip out her throat.

"You shouldn't raise your hand to him like that," she says, each word carefully enunciated with the effort it takes to hold herself still.

"I can do whatever I please," the kennelmaster sneers. "He's my dog. Now get out - this is a private yard."

Rage floods Rakha's whole body, creeping up the ruined muscles of her face, amplified by anger from Wyll and (surprisingly) Lae'zel and Minthara racing along the tadpole connection.

Killkillkillkillkillkillkillkill...

She takes a step forward, then another, until she is almost nose-to-nose with the human woman, towering over her from a foot and a half of extra height. Every muscle in her body is strained with the effort not to destroy the woman out of hand in broad daylight.

[INTIMIDATION] "I'll break every bone in your body," she whispers hoarsely, the shadowy darkness around her eyes giving her the air of a creature out of the Hells themselves, "before I'll let you hurt that dog."

(A/N: This is exactly the same tack Hector took and I don't apologize for scaring the shit out of this woman in multiple playthroughs. XD The really funny thing is that Rakha's CHA score is way better than Hector's, not to mention her JOAT expertise in intimidation and the +1 she gets from Ethel's ocular surgery. This is some avenging angel shit and I would not want to be facing it down personally.)

The woman flinches back, and for a moment the fear on her face is unmistakable - and then a mask of disdain snaps down over it. "You-- you'll do no such thing!"

Before Rakha can respond, the boy chimes in at her side. "It's not just Scratch!" he cries out eagerly, with a mix of fear and hope. "She's always hurting the dogs!"

The woman spins, one fist lifting. "SHut your mouth, Dringo!" she growls. "Last warning--"

Rakha moves like lightning. Before the kennelmaster can land the blow on her assistant, Rakha has her by the collar and hurls her back against the cage behind her. She grunts as all the air is knocked from her body, and then the fear is back in her eyes as Rakha's fingertips close around her throat.

Yes. Kill her. Squeeze the life from her and watch the dogs lap her blood as it pours out between your fingers--

"Rakha." Wyll's voice cuts through the roaring of the beast, soft from behind her. "Careful. Stay with me..."

Rakha draws a ragged breath, a muted groan of pain as she struggles against the instinct to destroy. Surely... surely this is a killing with purpose? The woman is cruel. The dogs will be safe. The boy will be safe. Surely... surely...

"Let her go," Wyll murmurs. "She doesn't have to die. Not for her - for you."(**)

Rakha squeezes her eyes shut, holding herself back with a massive effort of will as the kennelmaster squirms and whimpers in her grasp.

Then she opens her eyes and her face goes hard. [INTIMIDATION] "I'll give you to the count of ten," she hisses, "to leave these kennels. One. Two--"

The kennelmaster squirms free of her grip and backpedals hastily, almost slipping in the mud of the yard in her eagerness to get away. "Fine," she snarls. "You think you can do a better job without me? Be my guest! They're a useless bunch of mongrels. You're welcome to them!"

And then she's gone, running like hells out of the yard and into the crowded village beyond.

Dimly Rakha is aware of the gnomish boy cheering, of the cages being opened and the dogs let out into the yard. Of Jaheira taking the boy aside to talk to him, to see if she can help him with the dogs. But all Rakha can do, for a moment, is sit against the wall of the posthouse and tremble violently, pressing the heels of her hands to her forehead.

"Well done, Rakha," Wyll says in a low voice to her, standing nearby and watching her.

She knows he's right - that it was her first attempt to hold back the bloodlust since she learned the truth of who and what she is. But it doesn't feel good. She just feels exhausted.

Wyll sits down next to her, takes one of her hands and just holds it gently. Scratch sits on her other side and nuzzles her jaw. One of the other dogs comes over and licks at her free hand. But even with all this, it's some time before she feels she can breathe easily enough to move.

----

(*) In-game line: "I beg your pardon?" This is more Rakha-ish though. XD

(**) All artistic license unfortunately. In-game all you can do is look menacingly at her from a distance of several feet.

[alpineshift]

I wanna join in on the fun if you're still up for it!

How about...

15. “I can’t believe you remembered.” 

I don't really have a theme or 'verse in mind. Maybe the corporate emails one or the professors one or the one where they're married and then they're exes and Nico is Jack's emergency contact. Or anything that your heart desires.

My heart desires jacknico signs of life LOL jk jk thank you for sending a prompt in!! this would fit so well in the exes universe imo 🥹 (from the thank you for coming anyway verse)

15. “I can’t believe you remembered.” 

The All Star Festival was only supposed to be a three-day weekend thing; arriving Friday for social stuff and set up, Captains a supporting act on Saturday and headlining Sunday, and then back to home base. Quinn was supposed to rescue him from the awkward roomie situation he's got with his ex-husband right now.

Jack may or may not still be kinda salty Nico's babysitting him over a tiny whack to the head. Understatement, the Luke-voice in his brain scolds.

But not that it's necessarily awkward, to be honest. Maybe just...quiet. Low-key. Old habits, new location. Same person, different interactions.

That's the part that surprises Jack the most, and still catches him off guard. The way he and Nico manage to fall into a routine, filling the gaps in each other's everyday tasks, moving in perfect tandem. Jack figuring out how Nico stocks his groceries now with ease, Nico arranging food on the table the way he knows Jack likes.

(What does that mean for them? Is that supposed to mean anything at all? What if Jack wants it to? Does Nico want that too?)

It's driving Jack slowly crazy, remnants of his concussion notwithstanding. But! At least he'll be free from this limbo soon, once his brothers fly back and see that he's actually fine and lets him go home.

And then the storm hits.

Strong winds, heavy rain, possibility of hail, and low-to-zero visibility conditions. All flights grounded. Dark clouds rolling in from the west coast, travelling absurdly fast over the central states overnight, and landing heavy on them on the other side of the continent.

Obviously Jack doesn't want the band and the crew flying home in that. Obviously he's telling them to take shelter and to keep an eye on Trevor, who's a twig and could get blown away.

Fuck you too, Jack, Trevor texts back in the group chat.

"Guess you're stuck here for a little while longer," Nico says quietly, staring at the rain that's already pelting down on the windows. Ever the organized guy, he's got candles and lighters and flashlights already set out, charged up a few extra power banks and filled up an extra container of water.

Jack watches his ex-husband watching the rain, and tries not to read too much into the way Nico simply lets him stay, and his own inexplicable feelings of relief and delight over it.

And then the thunder starts.

Jack hates thunderstorms. Hates them with a passion, hates the way the thunder shakes the floorboards beneath him, the way lightning flashes across the sky and throws creepy shadows all over the room. Hates the hair-raising way the noise rattles his whole body.

He stumbles out of the guest room, disheveled, not exactly sure where he's going in the dark apartment, and runs smack into Nico's (very shirtless) chest.

Nico catches him by the shoulders. "Hey, hey, easy--it's just me. Are you alright?"

"I'mfineI'mdoinggreat," Jack word vomits out, and he can see the way Nico immediately frowns.

"You're not," his ex-husband says, only matter-of-factly, not rudely, and he redirects Jack to the couch. Turns a lamp on, the lowest setting, and drapes one of the big fluffy blankets over Jack's shoulders. Then he goes into the kitchen and pulls out a bunch of stuff from the cupboards: two enormous mugs. Packets of chamomile tea. Organic honey. Two tiny sprigs of mint. One toasty-hot drink fixed up in record time and deposited in Jack's hands while Nico takes the seat opposite him.

"It's okay, Jack," he says softly. "The storm will pass. Just drink your tea. I've even got disposable ear plugs if it gets really loud."

In spite of all his experience crafting award-winning lyrics, the only thing Jack could stammer out is, "You--You made my mom's go-to tea combo for me."

"Yes...?" Nico says, confused. "It's the only thing you want during a storm. You told me before."

"I--I know I did. But you...remembered. I can't believe you remembered."

Lightning flashes again and thunder rumbles above them, but Jack only has eyes for Nico. Nico, who sighs very softly, fiddles with his mug, and meets his gaze sadly.

"You say that as if I could ever forget a single thing about you, Jack."

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Always a Good Time with Garibaldi

Named after the famous Italian revolutionary, the garibaldi (Hypsypops rubicundus), also known as the marine goldfish or the catalina goldfish, is a species of damselfish found throughout the northeastern Pacific Ocean, particularly in kelp forests and rocky reefs along the North American coasts from central California in the US to Baja, Mexico.

H. rubicundus can grow to be over 38 cm (15 in) in length, making them the largest member of the damselfish family. Juveniles are red with blue spots, while adults are a vivid, solid orange. This color is what gives the garibaldi fish its name; the Italian Giuseppe Garibaldi and his followers were known for their red or orange shirts. Because they’re so brightly colored, marine goldfish might seem like easy targets for potential predators. However, garibaldi males are actually highly aggressive and will attack anything that enters their territory. The juvenile markings are similarly bright to advertise that they’re not there to pick a fight with older males.

Though males guard their territory year-round, mating only occurs from March to July. Males construct nests about 30 cm (12 in) across, removing all vegetation except for red algae. They then swim around their nest, displaying their fins and making loud clucking and grinding vocalizations. If a female is impressed, she deposits up to eggs 15,000 eggs in the nest, and the male fertilizes them. He then guards the eggs from almost-- including the mother, who may try to eat them. However, he does make exceptions for other females, especially as they are more likely to chose nests which already contain eggs. About three weeks after being laid, the eggs hatch and the young disperse. It takes them about five or six years to reach maturity, and individuals can live between 10 to 12 years.

The marine goldfish’s size and aggression wards off most predators, but larger animals like sharks, seals, and sea lions will hunt them on occasion. Younger individuals are also often targeted by sea birds like pelicans. Garibaldis themselves consume invertebrates, particularly sponges tubeworms, and nudibranchs, as well as algae. Despite their territoriality, H. rubicundus has also been known to gather in groups higher up in the water column; this may be a time for males to familiarize and for females to scout out potential mates.

If you like what I do, consider leaving a tip or buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

The US National Parks Service

Claire Fackler

Evan Barba

[survivalist-anon]

Log 16: A bark worse than his bite

Pine Hills most reputable bar: Big Foot Saloon. Ironically, we don't get bigfoot sightings here in Pine Hills, but with nearly 8ft space soldiers with occasionally some quirk about will probably confuse a few folks now.

The morning staff now finally get to have that night out drinking they wanted.

Fjord by this point was just enjoying himself, he was more familiar with a bar setting than I thought. He practically blended in, if were-vikings were common place the west coast.

Ronnie and guys were laughing about some plans they're going to make this weekend.

Jonas was telling us a story that happened to her for the billionth time.

Fjord intensively listening. As for me, my brain checked out a little while ago.

"-And so than, I had my tonsils removed, for the thrice", Jonas concluded.

"....Jonas I'm not certain you CAN remove your tonsils more than once...", I'm certain the last time she said 'twice'.

Frank hand walked up to our table with a rather sizable tab. "Here you go folks, hope you enjoyed your drinks", he looks to Fjord who had drunk a horrendous amount of alcohol, specifically beers, IPAs and I believe I recommended him an actual craft mead, he absolutely loved it. Yet he was more sober than I was with my one bottle of hard cider.

"Oh right, ugh, this be my 'treat'," he quickly handed the little bag of gold nuggets to Frank.

Frank takes the bag without question and promptly leaves.

Ronnie looked at me wondering why Frank accepted a mystery bag rather than cash (Frank apparently didn't believe in the American banking system). "Dang, thanks Fjord...that must have been quite the bill. That had to have been like...I don't know hundreds of dollars.".

Jonas nudged my shoulder again, "dang girl, is he loaded too?", giggling.

"Ah no worries, I just wanted to show my appreciation for being so welcoming.", his smiled warmly. Suddenly he snapped to head to the door.

Oh no.

Jeff and his gang were at Frank's tonight. I guess their usual hangover hang out at Tom's house may have gone wrong considering he lives with his mother.

I was sitting next to Fjord and I FEEL his growling. I had to whisper to him, "Fjord ...Fjord not here, you don't need to do anything.".

His eyes were locked on to Jeff, I was starting to get scared of he was going to kill him in front of everyone in the bar.

His friends from the station were laughing, meanwhile he still looked so drained, a little more rested but drained.

"Hey what are you looking at asshole!?", Tom aggressively spoke to Fjord from all the way across the bar.

Jeff turned around to see who it was...I could tell there was something brewing in him. I would feel more sympathetic to him if it weren't for everything I'd gone through with him.

His eyes shot to Fjord, it was a look of jealousy.

Fjord was standing his guard. Me and him knows he could take every single one of them. However I was more worried of the scene this could cause.

The others at our table began to worry, Ronnie looked at Jeff, than to Fjord. Whom by this point resembled a guard dog than that tall strong friendly weirdo who made wolves howl.

"Lorey, what's going on? Does Fjord know those guys?", the concern in his voice began to match my anxiety with the situation. I look to him and began to gently touch Fjord's arm to calm him down.

"Fjord, you can relax. Please. He isn't going to do anything....he can't anyway.", I felt like I didn't get through to him yet. So, I pull his arm a little, put my arm around his shoulders and place my face on to his, I didn't care about the pungent alcoholic smell from either of us... just close as contact I could get sitting next him.

It was for some... primordial reason....all I could think of doing.

Fjord, finally began to loosen his guard. "Lass?".

"Please Fjord, I'm ok, you're ok, and everyone here is ok...", all I could do is speak as if I was soothing him. I'm not even sure if it was the correct way to do it, but it was working.

He shuffled closer and wrapped his arm around me. "Yes, ok...thank you lass....".

It was a strange moment, time stopped, the sounds of the bar faded out, and it was just our hearts beating.

"Hey, man, come closer to us and-", Jonas was threatening someone as I had my eyes closed.

"-or what... you'll call the cops?", a dead toned, familiar voice had rung out.

"oh shit.", I whispered. I look up to see Jeff.... just standing next to our table. The look on his eyes was of betrayal? Bags under his eyes and an unblinking stare.

"Jeff.... seriously. Please leave us alone.", Ronnie and the guys at our table had not begun to raise their guard.

"....who's....the red head....", Jeff didn't ask...he just made a statement disguised as a question.

Fjord just turned to him, expressionless as he could muster. "....Fjord....you must be Jeff...."

"yeah..... you're not from around...are you?", Jeff was just looking at Fjord, trying to make sense of him. This huge, big red haired man, something about Fjord reminded Jeff of.... monsters...".... where are you from...Fjord?"

Jonas interrupted, "He's from Europe, Jeff, of course he's not from around here.", although Jonas could have been off by a few light-years. Her comment actually helped.

"oh...like...where.... Ireland.... Scotland?....", he continued monotonly.

Having no idea where or what was either of the two countries, "Yes. Both.", I couldn't help but think maybe Fjord was messing with him. "I have family there.".

Jeff just stared at him, than to me. "....you moved on pretty qui-", suddenly Fjord just barked at him.

"Wrouff!", it was as if I had a large but gentle dog next to me.

The scream Jeff let out along with the startled jump he did was the greatest comedic timing one could ever ask for. Not even on accident you could ask for a better jump scare.

He fell to the floor as his Tom, Beck and Mark help him up, "See I told you we should have gone to Portland today!", Beck scolded Tom.

"What and have my girlfriend find out?! Hell no.", he refuted.

Struggling to get his friend up as he was a bit tangled in the chair he felt on, "You asshole it was your idea!", Mark squeaked.

The gang was laughing harder as some of the patrons, who already had their share of grievances with Jeff's gang of friends, began to laugh too.

"Come on man! He wasn't even that loud.", Ronnie cackled.

I hid my laughter so I didn't make it worse for Jeff, Fjord's laugh sounded like the victorious chuckle of some fantasy hero who's just defeated a dragon.

"What is the matter lad? Dog got yur tongue?", Fjord quipped, the laughing continued.

Jeff quickly shuffled up to his feet, "YOU SON OF A BITCH! THATS ASSAULT OF AN OFFI-", Tom tapped his shoulder.

"Bro that isn't going to work there likes several witnesses and Chief already said you can't just say that.", Tom had made a serious point. Jeff for the longest time had always used that excuse whenever he had been inconvenienced by some of the people around. Now, it's completely pointless to do so.

Huffing angrily, "I'll get you for this! FORD!".

Tilting his head, "Ugh...it's Fjord.".

"WHATEVER YOU FUCKING SWED!!!!", he huffed again and looked at me.

Probably hoping for some cheesy revelation that Fjord is some highschool picking on the little guy trope....but it's not going to work anymore.

I just gave him a look of pity. "Jeff... please. I'm sorry for what's happened between us...but its really over now...".

The ball dropped for him right there. "...you know what....fuck it lets-", he was about to put up his fists until a heavy hand was placed on his shoulders. It was Frank.

Frank the only retired Navel officer in the whole time. He had trained out at sea for a better part of his youth, took absolutely no shit from anyone....and he wasn't just going to let a bar fight happen in his nice and reputable place.

"No pig fights allowed.", it was barely a warning, he just dragged Jeff outside along with Tom in tow, Beck and Mark were also being forced out but his brother and husband. All four where kicked out of his bar. "AND STAY OUT, chumps.". He went back behind the bar and went on like nothing happened.

Fjord was impressed by this, "Oh...thank you Frank! I owe you a debt of gratitude!", he waved.

Frank just grumbled to himself just satisfied that no one split nose blood on his nice clean wood flooring. "Oh, Pauly, can you please call Chief Colt and tell him his rascal son is causing a commotion again. He's also banned.".

Pauly cocked his eye, "Wasn't he banned from here last time for that Christmas party last year?".

Frank stopped for a quick second to think about that, "...well he's banned again until I forget.".

After a few more minutes, it was finally closing time.

Ronnie checked if it was clear for us to go to back to our cars. These guys were still police officers after all. "ok, looks like they left."

As everyone headed back to their cars and said their goodbyes, me and Fjord head back home.

I sighed from the fun, all though a little bit too close for a close shave situation, we had back at the bar. "Fjord I have to ask, why are you still so sober? I swear you had drunk like 2 gallons of beer or something.".

Licking his lips remembering the mead likely enough, "Oh yes. You see lass, all Astartes had a special organ implanted in us. It helps filter and purify any contaminats, poisons or anything that could inebriate us. However, life can be pretty boring of you're sober lass. So...we the mighty Vlka Fenryka, had found a cure for such an issue...MJORD. Unfortunately...I can kill mortals like you just by getting a whiff.", he laid back a little.

"Ah yeah, I remember you telling me that...", the mystery toxic concoction he told me about a while ago had me wondering. "...what is it made of?"

He gave a tilted smile, "heh, nothing that could be made 'ere on earth. It requires the vegetation and Fenric roots to ferment for weeks, than a ceremony has to be done to purify it so it don't just turn into some nurglelin sludge.", he huffed a little and looked out the car window to see the stars. "....I wonder where Fenris is from this planet....".

I could tell he was homesick, "you miss your home don't you?", I glanced over to him laying down comfortably.

"Well ...yes, there are aspects of Fenris I do miss...yet...so far here has been great too....it's... peaceful."

The word peaceful may mean two different things from both our perspectives. In my eyes, the world had gotten very dangerous....wars, the climate, the looming doomsdays that supposedly needs to happen.

Maybe from his world view, this place is peaceful not because it is.... because it isn't the world he is use to.

"Yeah, it's nice out here, I'm wondering...do you think I'd like Fenris if it was possible of me going?", wondering what he would say.

He looked at me a with shock, "Would fancy bein frozen the second you step foot on the cold sharp winds lass?", he said it with much urgency it was cute.

I giggled a little from his reaction, "no not really, funny enough it sounds like you lived in a place similar to Antarctica. It's the coldest place I know for certain.".

He sat there wondering about what I said, "ugh... pardon me lass but where is Antarctica?".

"It is a cold, isolated place in the most southern pole of Earth, it's name purely defined by the fact it has no bears.", I felt the need to throw that little tidbit.

The cogs in his brain were trying to figure out how dangerous were the bears on earth to the point we named a whole continent after not having bears.

He just laughed off, "Alright lass, such a strange planet this is... wonderfully strange."

We drove back home with the volume of the car low.

As we get out of the car, I checked my new yellow mail box for regular mail. Nothing new, just bills and useless advertisements.

We head inside and lay down to relax after an eventful day.

"So lass, I believe it is time for your slumber I presume?", he sat on the couch, laying his head back watching me place my things on the kitchen table.

"yeah, it's past midnight, lucky for me I have a day off tomorrow.", as I tell him this, that business card falls right out of the pocket.

"hmm.... Ben....I wonder....", I remember what Ben and his gang wanted to do but I had begun to wonder how much they knew of the space marines. "Hey Fjord, let's go out tomorrow. I want to do some...reconnaissance.".

He turns around, "Oh, what for lass? Is there something you think Aldercon needs to know about?", he gives a cheeky grin.

"Maybe, there's a guy in town who tries to find Space Marines. I'm wondering how much he actually knows...you know....to see if he could be helpful or a threat?", I look at him, he knows what I mean by threat.

"oh ok lass, do you need me to do anything for now?", he asked.

A bit of a strange question, "ugh, no I'm fine. I better get to bed.", I yawned a little, I get a glass of water for him if he needed something to drink in the middle of the night. "Goodnight Fjord, I'll see you in the morning.". I give his head a little scratch and caress.

"hmmm, goodnight lass.", his eyes close as he dozed off.

I turn off the lights and head to my room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Driving down the highway, a large bus full of people drive past the welcome sign of Pine Hills.

There was noise in the bus, chanting, incantations humming in the air.

The driver.....blank masked man.

An old, greyed lady in bright, fashionably colored robes lifts her hand up. "STOP."

The bus makes a stop in a camp parking lot, the bus door eerily opening, with the clapping of her sandles, the lady steps out and examines the clearing. She looks to the stars, uttering in tongues to herself.

Praying to something....or someone.

Turning around, with a terrible grin on her face, "COMMENCE....the pilgrimage! TO THE GREAT ONE!", pointing dramatically to the forest trail. "HE awaits.....".

As her command was heard by the group of 20 or so people. As they all get out from the bus in a single file line. They collect their things, and march to the mountain ridge.

The lady stays behind, waves her hand at the bus....as a pinkish and blue glow emanates from her palm, a familiar sigil appears.

The bus begins to fold, unnaturally like if it was being crumpled like a piece of paper. The driver inside, unreactive to what was happening. He too, began to fold like paper. With metal bending, glass cracking and plastic squeaking.

The bus had shrunk down into the size of a model toy version of the bus. The driver was strunken as well.

The lady walked up to the bus, picking it up and peaking into the bus. "Soon...the great one will consume this pathetic world...and create a new world. HEHEHE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA!", her manic laughing echoed through the night.

What had once been considered an impossibility, had now begun to leak...into our world.

End of Log 16

@kit-williams @barn-anon @egrets-not-regrets

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @walking-natural-disaster @starfrost740

@squishyowl @sleepyfan-blog @lawnchair86

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Posting this for a little accountability as I'm drawing more lately, but still feeling pretty reluctant to share anything. I tried to challenge myself by doing a bit more with lightning, and by drastically changing the references I was using, but then I also gave myself a break by making sure their hands and feet are bare, because I really like drawing hands and feet.

This is Cherry & Vovka (Vovka appears in chapter 19 of Appetites), my newest OCs, on the day they met, and he became her patron, some years before their Bg3 adventure and here's them in game after they've had a few years to become besties:

On the one hand, I need to stop making new tavs and new playthroughs, on the other hand NO

But, can I at least? stop? making?

pink ?

🩷

tiefling ?

🩷

warlocks ?

🩷

? Also no.

So, Vovka is in my fic Appetites, though that story takes place in a totally different universe than this playthrough, because he and Cherry definitely didn't get kidnapped by mindflayers in the backstory of Appetites; they were both far, far away from all that nonsense. But I wanted to play a game in the universe where Cherry did get snatched up by the mindflayers while minding her own business in Baldur's Gate. On the ship, she called on her patron to come rescue her. Vovka appeared right away, but didn't rescue her, instead, he also got infected. Oops.

Vovka doesn't join up with the rest of the party fully though. Having a cambion around narrows your options, because it's so common to just attack them on sight, so when he does join the rest of the party, he's usually using a disguise self spell unless they are looking for a fight anyway.

Instead of trapsing around the sword-coast, looking for healers, Vovka is checking with his contacts in the hells, trying to find out more information and bringing Cherry aid (modded items, mostly) when he can manage it. He's also a bit a lot though, usually encouraging her to make less morally upright choices, and often screwing things up in his attempts to help. But like. He's honestly trying. He's just not emotionally equipped for this, and needs a lot of patience, which luckily, Cherry has. They met when they were both still pretty young. In Appetites, his human half-sister sister Isolde tells the story of him getting kicked out of the house when he was thirteen and how she hasn't seen him since. Basically, Vovka was a street child for a few hours, before he got in trouble with the law right quick, but he was disguised as a human at the time, so instead of killing him on the spot, he was arrested.

Cherry was also arrested that day, because she got caught pickpocketing, and she thought her life was over. It probably would have been fine, she hadn't successfully stolen anything, the guards were just holding her overnight to teach her a lesson, and also being a bit racist which made her nervous.

And that's what the scene I'm depicting is supposed to be. He removed his human disguise and approached her in their shared cell, proposing that they escape.

Vovka gathered that this tiefling girl had a family and siblings and parents who cared about her. And that she had a safe place to stay once she was released, so he manipulated her into a pact so that the two of them could get out together, in hopes that her family would take care of him too.

This might have actually worked, except that using his cambion nature and making a pact with someone, for the first time ever, reminded his fiend parent that he existed, so right after their jailbreak, mama succubus promptly came and took him back to the hells for proper programing and cambion education.

He and Cherry stayed pretty tight in the years that followed though. She's his only warlock and with everything in hell being shit, and with Cherry being so young and in his mom's words "completely useless as an asset" their pact wasn't interfered with or altered in any way. Instead, it afforded him opportunities to sneak off and hang out with her when things in hell got to be too much. "I need to check in with my warlock" is one of the few excuses he ever had to not be around for horrible hellscape shinanigans. Cherry got a lot of shit from her family about taking a pact with a half-fiend (not as much as Wyll, obviously, but like she was for sure grounded for a full year) and she refused to actually use her powers for a long time. She was embarrassed and mad at herself for panicking and making the deal in that moment of weakness, and she was mad at Vovka too, though she does come to see his side of things as they spend more time together, and ultimately admits that she's pretty lucky to have a patron who is so chill and so low maintenance. Also, she's had numerous opportunities to forsake the pact, but won't do it, because in the end, she actually does like being a warlock and has a strange feeling that the power will come in handy some day. Besides that, she's also worried that if she does forsake the pact, she'll probably just never see Vovka again.

[kanerallels]

The Kanan as a Lunar Guard au as requested by @seleneisrising for my 501st follower celebration!

Quick warning: This au is a little darker than most of mine. Most of it is fine, but there is some violence and blood, and some death.(caused by someone under mind control, so they're being forced to kill someone. It's not that graphic, but I felt I should add a warning.) If you've read TLC, you should be fine, though!

He had to make things right.

Kanan knew that much. It was the one thing he was actually sure of right now, as he checked around a dark corner, hand hovering near the gun he’d stolen. It wasn’t his favorite idea, but it was a good back up.

He took one more glance around the hall before looking back at his companion. “The coast’s clear,” he said quietly.

The small, dark haired kid who popped out from the doorway he’d been hiding in didn’t look like much at first glance. But Kanan knew better. Because this boy was a shell— a Lunar born not only without the ability to manipulate bioelectricity, but who was unable to be controlled by anyone with that ability.

There were no shells— none that lived among society. They were taken at birth, ripped away from their families. But this boy had escaped that. Until now. Kanan felt a shudder tear through him at the memory of what he’d witnessed only hours before.

“Let him GO!”

The woman’s screams ripped through the streets, and Kanan saw one of the guards standing next to him shift uncomfortably at the sound. Kanan couldn’t blame him— the sound of agony made his stomach roil.

Stepping forward, he caught the woman by the arms as she lunged for the guard who was dragging away her son, who was staring with huge blue eyes. “Step back, ma’am,” he said firmly, keeping his voice stern.

“Let him go,” she begged him, finally tearing her gaze away from her son and latching onto Kanan. “Please— he’s not going to hurt anyone.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Kanan said. “He’s a shell— these are the rules. He should never have been here this long.” 

Even saying the words hurt, like he was plunging a knife into a part of himself that was barely living. It’s wrong, his mind whispered. It’s wrong and you know it.

The woman’s husband stepped forward, gently pulling her away from Kanan and into his arms. His gaze was locked on Kanan, however, as he said, “Please— you’re a thaumaturge. There has to be something you can do, some exception you can make.”

Never in his life had Kanan wanted to do something more, to fight back. He opened his mouth, not quite sure what would come out—

“He certainly can,” came an accented and horribly familiar voice. Thaumaturge Isaacs stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back. “He can remove this aberration, as should have been done in the first place. And you two shall be disciplined for committing a crime such as this. You two should be ashamed.”

Pulling away from her husband, the woman glared at Thaumaturge Isaacs. She didn’t have a shred of fear on her face, and Kanan found himself admiring her as she said, “Discipline us all you want. I will never be ashamed of raising our son.”

“How noble of you,” Isaacs said, a thin, unpleasant smile crossing his face. “Unfortunately, Her Majesty does not accept such excuses. I’m sure your executions will be quite pleasant.”

To Kanan’s surprise, there was no real fear, no panic on the couple’s face. But the woman bowed her head, looking shaken. After a moment, she stepped closer to Isaacs, and looked up with a pleading expression on her face.

“Please,” she said. “Please, keep Ezra safe.” She took a deep breath, and then her gaze moved to Kanan, and he realized with a jolt she was talking to him.

“Please,” she repeated, and then moved, faster than Kanan would have expected. There was a flash of metal, and Isaacs let out a roar of shock and pain as a knife plunged into his chest.

It missed anything vital, instead slashing open the area between his collarbone and his shoulder. The woman pulled it out and went for another blow— and then froze. From the way her eyes widened, panicked, Kanan knew it wasn’t voluntary.

Judging by the snarl of rage on Isaacs’ face, he knew what was coming next. And he couldn’t watch. So as the woman turned to her husband, raising the knife, Kanan slipped past Isaacs and headed towards the guard who held the boy in place. “I’ll take care of him,” he said brusquely, pushing the boy forward before the guard could protest.

“Wait,” the boy stammered, trying to twist out of Kanan’s grasp. “No— Mom! Dad!”

“Ezra!” called the man, his voice shaking. “Stay strong! We love you!”

“Don’t look back,” Kanan told him, pushing him forward. “Trust me.”

The boy tried to anyway, but Kanan kept him moving, even as they heard a scream of pain and a cry of agonized sorrow from the woman. Even as there was a final cry that Kanan knew meant they were both gone.

He could hear the boy sobbing, shoulders shaking. He tried at least once to escape, to pull away, but Kanan kept him moving until finally, they reached the transport. Bundling him into the passenger seat, Kanan slid into the driver’s seat.

Starting the engine, he started them moving forward, slipping down the streets. He didn’t bother waiting for the guards or Isaacs. 

“What are you gonna do to me?”

The boy’s voice was shaky and full of tears, but defiant. Like his parents. Swallowing hard, Kanan wished— not for the first time— that he hadn’t been born with such a strong gift. That the queen hadn’t taken notice of him. That they hadn’t been able to use his family against him when he tried to decline the offer to become a thaumaturge. That he’d been able to stand up to them.

I’ve sat by long enough. I can’t let this one slide, too.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he told him, his voice steady. “I promise.”

That had been a full week ago. Kanan had managed to cover for the two of them, sneaking Ezra food as he hid in Kanan’s quarters, but only just barely. Luckily, he’d come up with an escape plan. He just really, really hoped it worked.

“Remember the rules?” he asked Ezra quietly.

Nodding, Ezra said, “Stay quiet, don’t move, and only get out when you say it’s safe. And if you give me the signal—” his voice wavered. “Run. But I don’t like that part.”

“Neither do I,” Kanan said. “But we don’t have much of a choice right now. We’re close, though.” Putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, he said, “You ready?”

Taking a deep breath, Ezra squared his shoulders in a way that reminded Kanan of his last glimpse of the boy’s father. I’m sorry, he thought, not for the first time. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” Bending down, Kanan grabbed the case he’d brought with them— a large crate, set on wheels. Just the right size for a fourteen year old boy to hide in. “Get in.”

Ezra scrambled in, curling up into a ball, and Kanan put the lid down, leaving a tiny crack so the boy could still breathe. And push open the lid and make a run for it if he had to. But Kanan preferred not to think about that.

Tugging at the hem of the guard’s coat he’d stolen— which was a little too tight around the shoulders, but fit well enough that no one would notice— he took a deep breath. This is it. No turning back.

He wasn’t afraid— not of leaving. The only thing he was terrified of was getting caught. And the best way to avoid that was to move, and fast. So, grabbing the crate, Kanan propelled it forward, pushing it down the hall at a brisk clip.

It was late enough at night that Kanan didn’t see anyone as he made his way to the hanger nearest to his rooms. Choosing one of the ships closest to him, he was wheeling the crate up the open ramp when he heard a voice behind him.

“You there, guard!”

Oh, kriff. Kanan flicked a quick glance over his shoulder as he pushed the crate the rest of the way up the ramp, settling it into a secure position. With a jolt, he recognized the coat of a thaumaturge, standing in the middle of the room.

Things were about to get messy.

“Can I help you, sir?” Kanan asked, moving down the ramp a little ways.

“What exactly are you doing out here so late—” the thaumaturge’s eyes widened as they locked onto Kanan’s face. “Jarrus?”

Kanan moved, before the man across from him could. Diving forward, he slammed bodily into him, knocking him to the ground. The thaumaturge thrashed wildly, and shouted, “Guards! I’m being attacked!”

Slamming a fist into his jaw, Kanan knocked him out, and scrambled to his feet. The sound of footsteps in the corridor caught his attention, and dread swelled in his chest. Time to go.

He’d only just made it up the ramp when the door burst open, and a flood of guards poured into the room.

They took one look at Kanan, who slammed the button to raise the ramp, and immediately pulled their weapons. Drawing his own gun, Kanan shot the first one without hesitating and ducked behind a crate as bullets rattled off the interior of the ship. One ricocheted, and he felt pain blaze through his arm as it bit through his ill-fitting jacket.

As the ramp started to raise, muffling the sound of shouts and gunshots, Kanan got to his feet. Moving to the crate where Ezra was hiding, he flipped open the lid. The boy looked up at him, eyes wide and concerned.

“I need you in the cockpit,” Kanan told him, and Ezra immediately scrambled up and over the edge of the crate. He followed Kanan as he headed into the cockpit, and took the pilot’s seat.

“Buckle up,” he ordered the kid, who obediently strapped himself into the co-pilot’s seat. Kanan focused on the console, switching levers and bringing the engine to life. We need to keep moving. Need to get out.

He didn’t move out of his trance, his focus on the ship, lifting it off and cruising out of the dome where he’d lived for his whole life. It was time to leave it behind. After everything he’d seen, everything he’d done, anywhere was better than here.

And there was really only one anywhere they could make their way to. Earth.

“Kanan?”

Ezra’s hesitant voice cut through Kanan’s thoughts, and he glanced up. “What?”

“You— you’re bleeding.”

His words brought the pain rushing back, and Kanan held back a wince. “Yeah. I’m fine.” Glancing at the console, he frowned. “Better than the ship is, anyways. I think we took some damage back there.”

“Are we gonna make it to Earth safely?” Ezra asked.

Taking a deep breath, Kanan said, “I hope so. Here goes nothing.”

The time slipped by, growing more vague and dizzying. Kanan knew the blood loss was affecting him, and he knew the ship was getting worse. But they couldn’t stop. They couldn’t. Not if there was still a chance that they could make it.

They’d only just made it through the atmosphere when the ship gave out. Kanan tried desperately to help the ship recover, to save it. But it didn’t work.

He heard Ezra scream once, shocked and terrified, as they plowed into a stand of trees he could barely see in the darkness of night. The ship shook, throwing Kanan forward, and his head slammed into the dashboard. Everything went black.

~

Hera jerked away, sitting bolt upright in her bed. For a minute, she wasn’t sure what had woken her, and then it registered. There had been a loud boom, somewhere out in the forest.

Sliding out of bed, she crossed the room to her window, pulling aside the curtains. At first, she saw nothing. And then, a dull glow made itself clear in the distance, beyond the forest that sat not far from her house.

Something’s wrong. It almost looks like… did a ship crash? There hadn’t been many in this area— Lothal was isolated enough that they didn’t get a lot of outsiders. And the ones they did didn’t crash their ships in the middle of the night.

But Hera had a gut feeling about this, and she tended to trust her gut. So, after quickly dressing, she headed out the door, stopping only for her bomber jacket. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, her shotgun.

You couldn’t be too careful, out in the woods in the middle of the night.

She’d made it out of the house, and halfway across the field that separated her house from the woods when she heard someone call her name. Glancing over her shoulder, Hera saw Sabine on the porch, a blanket draped around her shoulders.

“Stay in the house,” she called to the girl. To no one’s surprise, Sabine didn’t listen. Instead, she darted forward, crossing the grass in her bare feet as she caught up to Hera.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To look into that sound,” Hera said, deciding it was best not to argue. The girl could be incredibly stubborn sometimes, and it was good to have backup. Just in case. “It sounded like a ship crashing.”

“Smells like it, too,” Sabine commented, nose wrinkling. Hera could smell the same thing— the strong odor of something synthetic burning.

Together, they headed into the woods, weaving through the trees and towards the source of the smell. It wasn’t long before they found it.

It was, in fact, a crashed ship. Hera winced at the sight of the torn metal and shattered glass— the ship had barely held together, and had annihilated a couple trees on the way. But that wasn’t what made her pause, brows knitting together. “This design,” she murmured. “It doesn’t look like anything I’ve seen here in the States, let alone in Europe.”

“Maybe we should focus less on that, more on where the passengers went?” Sabine suggested. “Looks like the ship’s empty.”

She was right— the windshield had been shattered, and there was no sign of any occupants. But as Hera moved closer to the ship, she saw the way the glass had been pushed out, and a few smears of blood on the metal. More spatters left dark marks on the grass, tracing a path deeper into the forest.

They can’t have gotten far, whoever they are. Raising her voice, Hera called, “I know you’re out there! And you’re hurt. Let us help you.”

She paused, awaiting a response— but there was none. “Well, it was worth a shot,” Sabine said. “Now what?”

Hera started to answer, but then a rustle in the bushes cut her off. Turning towards it, she saw a dark figure moving towards them, its pace stumbling and unsure. As it drew closer, the shape resolved itself into a man. Most of his features were still obscured by the darkness, but the gun in his hand was clear enough.

Moving swiftly, Hera brought her shotgun up to her shoulder. “Stop right there,” she told the man. “Not another step until you drop the gun.”

He did stop, weaving a little on his feet. The gun slipped from his fingers and he spoke. “Please,” he said, his voice rough and deep. “Please. Help him.”

Before Hera could begin to ask one of the myriad of questions in her mind, the man's knees gave out and he crumpled to the forest floor. Lowering her weapon, Hera handed it to Sabine and stepped forward. Moving into a crouch, she grabbed the man by the shoulders and rolled him onto his back.

Taking one look at his face, she let out a choked gasp. He was covered in blood. Most of his eyes were obscured by it, but Hera could see shards of glass digging into his cheek, and her stomach turned.

“Sabine, go get Zeb,” she ordered. “Tell him to get a transport and get back here, fast. And call the doctor, tell him we're on our way.”

“On it,” Sabine said. Pausing only to set the gun against a nearby tree, she bolted back the way they'd come, her blanket falling to the ground behind her. Hera only sent one look after her before turning her attention back to the man laying on the forest floor in front of her.

“It's going to be okay,” she told him. “Sabine's going to get help, you'll be fine.”

“No.” The word was barely a whisper, and Hera frowned. “Please. Help Ezra.”

Ezra? The way he was talking, it sounded like… There's someone else out here.

Getting to her feet, Hera headed in the direction the man had come from. It wasn't more than a few minutes later that she found what she was looking for. Hiding inside one of the bushes was a boy, not my older than fourteen. He lay on his side, unmoving, but as Hera knelt next to him, she could see the rise and fall of his chest. When she checked, his pulse was steady, and he only had a small gash on his forehead. 

He must have been knocked out in the crash, Hera guessed. But how did they crash? Why? Something here wasn't quite right. 

The hum of an approaching transport caught Hera's attention, and she headed back to where it was just coming to a stop, near the crashed ship. Sabine hopped out, followed closely by Zeb, their neighbor. “Karabast,” he said, staring at the crashed ship. “Someone made it out of there?”

“Two someone’s, actually,” Hera told him. “There's a kid in the bushes. Unconscious, but he's not nearly as bad off as his friend.”

“Tough kid,” Zeb said. “I'll go get him first, then.”

As he headed into the bushes, Hera moved next to the man. He didn't react— odds were good that he's lost consciousness. “He's okay,” Hera told him anyway. “We found Ezra, now hang in there.”

He stirred a little, and for the first time Hera noticed what he was wearing. Under the blood and dirt stains, the tattered jacket looked almost familiar. Like she'd seen it before.

But then Zeb was back, and Hera was helping him get first Ezra, then his companion, into the back of the transport. Minutes later, they were zipping across the grass and towards the small town of Lothal.

When they arrived, Dr. Meridian was waiting for them outside her office. Between Hera, Zeb, Sabine, and the doctor, they managed to get first the man, then Ezra inside.

The doctor looked over the unconscious Ezra first, and proclaimed him possibly concussed but fine. But when she disappeared into the second room with the man, Hera knew it would be a while before she came back. The image of the blood-soaked wounds on his face came back to her, and she winced.

Sabine had taken up one of the two chairs in the waiting room, with Ezra curled up in the other one. Zeb was pacing back and forth, and Hera leaned against the wall, watching the minutes tick by on the clock across from her.

The room was quiet, so quiet she could hear the second hand on the clock ticking. So quiet that when Ezra stirred, Hera’s gaze moved to him before his eyes opened.

When they did, they widened quickly. “It’s okay,” Hera told him quickly as he shrank back. “We’re friends. Your friend is in the other room— you’re Ezra, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Ezra said slowly, staring at her. “Who are you— and where are we? Why isn’t Kanan here?”

Kanan. So that was the name of the man. “He was hurt in the crash,” Hera said. “That’s where we found you. I’m Hera, by the way.”

“Hi,” Ezra said, looking around the room. His gaze moved from Zeb, to Sabine, who gave him a half-wave, then back to Hera. “Thank you. For helping us. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course we did,” Zeb said. “We’re not monsters.”

“Right, but— well, I know that Earthens don’t really like Lunars.”

The room went quiet. Oh, Hera thought. That explains a few things.

Looking between them, Ezra’s eyes widened. “Oh. You didn’t— um, I promise we’re not gonna hurt you? I can’t even use the gift and Kanan promised he wouldn’t, I swear. Just please, don’t give us back—”

“We’re not going to,” Hera told him firmly. “I promise.”

“R-really?”

“Really,” Hera said firmly. “You’re far from the first Lunar that’s wound up in Lothal. It’s a good place to hide, if you need to. Now, why don’t you tell us what happened? Start from the beginning, and take your time.”

Slowly, falteringly, Ezra began to tell them. About how he’d grown up in hiding, protected by his parents for as long as they could.

But then Queen Levana’s soldiers had found out about him, and they couldn’t protect him anymore. They had both been killed— Hera gathered that much, though Ezra didn’t talk about it much. “But Kanan didn’t let them take me,” he said. “He protected him, snuck me out.”

“That’s a bold move for a guard,” Hera murmured.

“Kanan’s not a guard,” Ezra said. “He’s just wearing the coat so no one would realize it was him. He’s, um. He’s a thaumaturge.”

Zeb cursed, and Sabine’s eyes went wider. “Wait. Don’t thaumaturges work specifically for Queen Levana? And, you know, do terrible things?”

Ezra’s gaze dropped. “Yeah. But he helped me. He saved me. So he can’t be that bad.”

Hera thought of the desperation in the man’s voice when he’d begged her to help Ezra first. Not him, but Ezra. He’s right. Kanan cares about him, and he wants to help him. Hera didn’t know this man, not really. But she trusted her gut, and her gut told her that this man was a good man, even if he was flawed.

As she was thinking, the door to the other room creaked open. Hera looked up as Dr. Meridian stepped through, closing the door behind her.

“Is he okay?” Ezra asked instantly, sitting up.

The doctor glanced at him, smiling warmly. “I see our young friend is awake,” she said, her accented voice soft. “How is your head feeling?”

“Fine. Well, it hurts a little. How’s Kanan?”

“Your friend is stable,” the doctor assured him. “I cleaned and dressed his wounds— a bullet wound to the arm, and multiple wounds to the face and eyes. The glass came out cleanly, but the damage to his right eye is so extensive that I doubt his vision will recover.”

“So— he won’t be able to see?” Ezra’s voice shook, and Hera instinctively reached out and took his hand. He clung to it, his eyes wide and shocked.

“Not out of that eye— and not well out of the other, I’m afraid,” Dr. Meridian said, her voice sympathetic. “But he’s stable, and a lot better off than he could be, considering the circumstances of the crash. I’m so sorry— I did everything I could.”

“We understand,” Hera assured her. “Thank you. Would it be better if we left him with you, or took him to my house?”

“I think it would be best if he had someone familiar there when he woke up,” the doctor said. “So your house may be best.”

“We’ll take him there, then,” Hera said. “Thank you for all your help.”

“Of course.”

With Zeb’s help, it wasn’t long before they had Kanan back in the transport, and made their way back to Hera’s house. Once inside, it took them a while to get everything situated. Finally, Sabine was back in her room, Kanan in the guest room, and Ezra took Hera’s bed, because she knew she wasn’t going to be getting much more rest. Zeb offered to stay, but eventually headed back to his own house, after promising he was only a call away.

And then Hera was alone, in a quiet house after an hour or more of hectic activity. Heading into the kitchen, she made herself a cup of coffee before slipping into the guest room to check on Kanan.

He was still asleep, though as Hera settled in the chair she’d set up next to his bed, he stirred a little. “Ezra?” he mumbled.

Hera felt her heart twinge in sympathy. The man had been through so much, as evidenced by the clean white bandages wrapped around his eyes. But still he worried about Ezra. That spoke of a good man, someone Hera had a feeling she could respect.

“Ezra’s safe,” she promised him. “He’s okay. Just rest— everything is going to be fine.”

The tension twisting Kanan’s face eased a little, and he slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

Tomorrow, they’d have plenty of questions to answer and painful truths to give. But for now, Hera was happy to give this man one more night of peace.

[amaretigris]

Getaway

Taglist: @luna2034 @hopeisrising @notagreekgal28 @mylittlemermaid221 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @freyagallileaevans @daydreamerwithnohobbies @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

Ch. 4 | 2.5k words | Fluff & smut suggestion

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

It has been two whole days since The Cassiopeia left the port of Sicily for France. Eric concisely spoke to you every morning and night to make sure that you have everything you need, but other than that, he seemed like he avoided you throughout the day. You were quite perplexed as to why that was. He had invited you on this getaway, and saved you from an abusive relationship. He was your knight in shining armor. So why was he avoiding you now?

Maybe he'd found that you weren't actually all that interesting. Maybe he'd realized that he'd made a mistake, and he was just trying to be polite. These thoughts bothered you more than you cared to admit. Eric may have invited you on a trip to one of the most romantic places in the world, but you shouldn't have automatically assumed that this meant anything. He was just being nice, you decided; showing pity to a poor bar maid doing nothing very meaningful with her life.

So you kept to yourself on the ship. You would help in the kitchen for the crew - doing dishes and preparing dinner. Apparently, up until now, the crew had to take turns pulling kitchen duty, and they welcomed the break. You had to at least earn your stay here. You weren't a freeloader. When you weren't in the kitchen, you sat out on the deck drawing. You had brought a sketchbook and your pencil set among your things. You weren't an artist by any means, but you practiced in the hopes of being that good one day.

Eric would rotate around the ship throughout the day, helping his men in different areas. Each time he started a task, he would inevitably end up distracted by your beauty. You would hardly look at him. It gave Eric plenty of opportunity to ogle you without getting caught. By you, anyway. His crewmen would often nudge him to get his attention back on the task at hand.

There was something about your hair, tied with a ribbon in the back, flowing with the wind and sea spray that was so enchanting to him. He'd, admittedly, been somewhat avoiding you, aside from checking in. He found it harder and harder to look you in the eye with a straight face. Especially when his lewd dreams of you had only gotten more detailed and specific the last two nights. He'd woken in a sweat in the first mate's quarters with Grimsby sleeping in the bed across from his cot both nights. It was embarrassing to say the least, but if Grimsby was bothered or woken by it, he hadn't said a word.

Eric didn't know what was happening to him. It was inappropriate to think of a lady such as yourself in that manner. Hadn't he just pulled you from the arms of a broken, vile man? Eric shouldn't be dreaming of you this way. He shouldn't be fantasizing, no matter how much he wanted to give in. He needed to be a proper gentleman to you. You deserve that, especially after all you've been through. So he thought it best to stay away for the time being. Maybe, if he did that, the dreams would stop.

But the ship would be docking in France within the next day. The winds and tide had not exactly been in her favor, but The Cassiopeia powered through as she always does. Eric had to get his act together before then. He didn't want to waste this trip with you. He had planned some noticeably romantic outings for the length of your stay. He wanted to make your first adventure away from home memorable.

Home. The ship had sailed right past Sardinia on its journey. Eric had made sure to keep to the path right outside of the coast guard's view. He didn't want them to alert his mother about spotting his ship. As much as he longed to go home, he couldn't quite yet. He needed time to make you see him for who he truly is; to understand why he'd concealed his true identity. Once he came clean, he would take you to his home if you wanted to go. If you didn't jump ship and decide to stay on another island, that is. Eric wouldn't blame you either way, but he was decidedly hoping for one outcome over the other.

He hoped that you weren't bothered by his lack of overt attention to you. Maybe you hadn't even noticed. You had kept yourself busy by helping out in the kitchen, and with other little things around the ship. You had told Eric at the start of this that you'd find a way to pay him back. You had already more than earned your keep in his eyes. He loves that you help without hesitation. It really shows what kind of person you are.

Each time he'd seen you perched on the deck sketching, he felt like he was intruding. He didn't want to interrupt your time to yourself. One day, hopefully soon, he would ask to see your sketch book. He'd love to know what you draw. He'll consider them fine art if the sketches are half as beautiful as the view he gets when the currents whistle through your hair.

On the evening of the second day at sea, Eric searched the deck for you. You were nowhere to be found. Checking the kitchen, Eric found it empty. Clicking his tongue, he wondered where you could be. There was only one other place. Eric cleared his throat before knocking on the doors of the captain's quarters. Why was he nervous? These are his quarters after all.

After a few seconds of no response, Eric raised his knuckles to try again. Worried by the silence, Eric tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. He slowly pushed it open.

"(Y/N)?" He tried.

The room was quiet. Easing himself in the door, Eric closed it softly behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck were practically standing. He rounded the corner, almost raised up on his tip toes. He suddenly stood stock still taking in the view afforded to him.

You were laid on your back, splayed out on his bed. Your hair was slightly disheveled, and your cheeks were red. You wore a delicate, soft white cotton dress. Eric knew this because he could see most of your physique beneath it. Your perked nipples seem to have caught the gust of cool air from his entrance. Eric felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead.

He couldn't very well stand here like a creep while you slept. Seeing your body like this was not good for his well-being after the intimate dreams he's been having. After a gulp, Eric turned on the heel of his boot to leave. A sudden bang on the deck outside caused you to stir, and Eric squeezed his eyes shut with a grimace.

"Eric?" Your groggy voice cut through the still air of the cabin.

Eric took a sharp inhale before turning to face you. You were now sat up on the bed, rubbing your eyes with a yawn and a stretch. Eric tried to look away as you poked your chest out, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't peek. He cast his eyes back down as you straightened.

"Oh, erm, hi. I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your sleep. I wanted to check that you were okay. I knocked on the door a couple times, but got no answer, so-"

"It's okay," you smiled at him, having thrown your legs over the side of the bed.

You sat at the edge of the mattress with your hands clutching the sheets.

"I'm glad you're here," you continued.

Eric's gaze rose to yours. It seemed that you shocked yourself with your own admission. Eric licked his lips, and stepped towards you.

"May I sit?"

He pointed to the spot beside you on the bed. You nodded. Eric hesitantly settled onto the mattress. He smelled what he could only guess to be body lotion that you applied daily. The intoxicating scent had become quite familiar to him. Eric cleared his throat, and was about to ask you a question when you cut in.

"I wanted to ask you something," you looked over at him.

Your eyes took in all of his handsome features. He graced you with a comforting smile.

"Of course," he simply replied.

You licked your lips in anticipation. You were too busy looking at Eric's lips to see him staring at yours.

"Have you been avoiding me around the ship? I couldn't help but notice that you steer clear of me during the day."

Eric's eyes shot back to yours. Your face was pinched in worry. You had noticed, and now he felt like the biggest jerk alive. Eric registered the fact that you brought your hands up on your lap to fidget. He lifted his hand to cover them.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry. I haven't been fair to you thus far on our journey," he started.

He paused, considering his words.

"I've been...having these strange dreams. And, in truth, I don't entirely know what to make of them, or what to do with myself when I have them," he admitted.

Eric drew in another breath. Your hands came to enclose his in your lap.

"Is it like the dream you had the morning we departed?"

Eric nodded.

"Yes," he confirmed. "They've only gotten," his eyes flicked between yours, "worse."

You sighed. It was reminiscent of the breathy sounds he dreamt you'd make. Eric pushed that thought out of his head. Now is not the time.

"I'm sorry that these dreams are bothering you," you spoke in a morose tone. "But I'm always here if you want to talk. You know that, right? You've given me a new chance at life. It's the least I could do," you nodded with determination, squeezing his hand.

"We have each other now," you continued. "We should be able to be open with one another."

Eric felt his chest clench with guilt. He wanted to be open with you, about everything, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just yet.

"You're right," he smiled. "I promise I'll be better. Besides, we won't be stuck on this ship for much longer. We'll be docking at the Port of Marseille soon."

Eric brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it. Your grin almost split your cheeks.

𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ

Stepping off the ship, you felt a whole new world open up in front of you. You were practically bouncing with nervous but excited energy. Before you could run off, Eric gently took hold of your wrist. You turned to face him.

"Eric! Look!" You pointed in the direction of town with an open-mouthed smile.

There was laughter and music already floating through the air despite it only being midday. Eric couldn't help but smile at your elation.

"Would you like to go into town? They have a wonderful market and lots of food," he encouraged.

You nodded as fast as you could. Eric let out a laugh. Sliding his fingers into yours now, he watched your eyes flit down to the intimate contact. Your smile only shone with wonder. You squeezed his hand in yours before meeting his eyes again.

"Let's go!"

Just like that, Eric was being pulled behind you. The stalls of the market quickly came into view as the two of you left the pier. The pep in your step increased the closer you got. Eric's current situation of being led along to the market made him chuckle. He'd gladly take you anywhere you pleased if this was your reaction every time.

Smells of freshly baked bread wafted through the air and filled your nostrils. You licked your lips, suddenly realizing that your stomach felt pretty empty. You halted your steps, quickly turning to Eric. You came face to face with him as he skidded to a stop. You only blinked at the near collision, glancing down to his lips. Eric instinctually looked to yours, gulping.

"I'm sorry," you eventually spoke before bringing your eyes back to his. "I was just going to ask if you're hungry." A slight flush tinted your cheeks.

Eric nodded. "I'll show you the best food here." Seconds ticked by, but neither of you moved, despite streams of people on either side of you. Eric brought his fingers up to brush a hair out of your eyes, and tuck it behind your ear. His gaze followed his hand as it combed through your pretty hair. "Maybe one day I can braid it," he offered.

You scrunched your brow in confusion. "What?"

"Your hair," Eric clarified. "It's beautiful. I'd like to braid it someday."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. You looked down bashfully, blinking out of your dreamlike state. Eric smiled at your blushing expression. He tightened his hold on your hand, and led you through the market this time to his favorite booth. He flashed a friendly smile at the woman behind the counter.

"Two please," he held up his fingers.

She nodded, smiling down at your joined hands.

"Are you two lovebirds just passing through?"

Surprise and uncertainty flashed across your face, and you looked to Eric. "Uh..."

"Yes," Eric answered warmly.

The woman gave a nod of approval. She handed Eric two plates, and he handed one to you.

"I can always tell."

She seemed very sure of her answer. Eric gave her a polite smile and dug in his pocket for some coins to hand over. The two of you walked to an area by the water to sit down and enjoy your food. You opened the plate to find sliced steak on top of fries.

"Eric," you gasped. "This is too fancy. I didn't know what you were buying. The price of this-"

"Is one I can afford," Eric interrupted. "I wanted you to try it, (Y/N). It's the best steak frites you'll find in all of France."

You sighed.

"Okay. Thank you," you conceded.

The first bite of steak exploded with flavor on your tongue, and you whipped your head to Eric with wide eyes.

"It's delicious!"

Eric beamed with pride at that, popping a fry into his mouth.

"See? I told you. Well worth it."

The two of you ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Your hands nervously gripped the edges of your plate then.

"Out of simple curiosity, why did you tell her yes?"

You had to admit that the question had been in the back of your mind since the interaction with the woman from the market. Eric's jaw paused, but he finished chewing to swallow his bite.

"Oh, um, I apologize. I suppose that was rather rude of me," he blushed. "I don't intend to make any assumptions. I only worried that if I didn't say yes, she would continue to push the issue and make you uncomfortable."

You nodded thoughtfully. After a second, you shrugged.

"That subject doesn't make me uncomfortable."

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

You know how vegetarianism is both a valid/ethical lifestyle choice and ALSO a thing that kids all over try out for a bit as a phase?

Well. What if Carlisle made vegetarianism a vampire youth fad? How much does he despair, and what does Aro think of it all? Does the normalization of "I was a vegetarian for six months, but fell off the wagon..." do anything to Edward / the others?

... Who are the vampire youth?

Well, that seems unlikely in that a) it didn't happen b) Carlisle's an old man telling the kids what to do c) newborn vampires are more driven by bloodlust than older vampires.

But alright, I'll bite.

Carlisle and Being in the Best Timeline

Carlisle's actually overjoyed. They seem to drop it like flies after a month or so, but this is the most success he's ever seen. He never thought it was possible.

And if even one of them sticks with it then this will have been a great success. Even if none of them do, that's so many human lives saved that would have otherwise been destroyed.

Carlisle thinks this is great and is just hoping he can get them to take it a little more seriously/actually dedicate themselves to it.

What Does Aro Think?

Aro thinks it's a bit strange, but alright kids, whatever.

It makes his job easier as there's less chance of them breaking the law if they're not having to hide their murder victims. Of course, now Aro has to enforce the law over silly things like, "You ate all the alligators in a swamp and the coast guard noticed" but on the whole he's not opposed to it.

He thinks these kids could be seriously ruining their health, and he's certainly not doing it, but eh, let em.

What About the Other Cullens?

Esme I imagine doesn't think about it much beyond being pleased in part because Carlisle's so happy/people are on the diet at least for a little bit. This is unequivocally a good thing to her.

Rosalie is dismissive with their lack of commitment and thinks it makes what the Cullens do that much more important. It's easy to say you're going to follow the diet but try sticking to it for several decades/staying on the wagon when you fall off.

Edward's the one who's very emotionally distressed at this. The diet was supposed to make them different and here are these pigs slandering everything the Cullens stand for by trying it out for a few weeks then moving on. Edward is even more disgusted by them than he is ordinary vampires who at least are openly shameless.

[yanderu-deredere]

Casimir Fiala ★ picrew link

gender: male sexuality: demisexual age: 27 height: 6'5 body notes: Very lanky, almost square body. Not a lot of muscle tone. Has a scar that stretches from his upper left lip that goes to the middle of his chin. Has another scar around his neck. Has even more various scars around his body from various clumsy accidents.

type of yandere: Self-Indulgent Yandere

these types of yandere usually (not always) don’t really obsess over their darlings for the sake of the darling. mostly, they’re self serving and selfish; they want whatever their darling provide. usually, they want to keep the darling all to themselves for that reason. whatever the case, these yandere are more likely to hurt their darling or have sadistic tendencies towards their darling. it’s not about what darling wants, it’s about what they want.

Casimir is a man of science who gets distracted by little else! The only other person he really brings himself to 'care for' is his 'wife' and that's barely anything. But, if he finds someone that can bring 'feelings' (tenuous label) out of him, he'd cling onto them. Not because he'd like the feelings per se (lies) but because he'd like to put those feelings through rigorous scientific testing

likes: scientific method, insects, melee weaponry, wine, cooking, watching documentaries dislikes: disorder, loud or annoying noise, trespassers, rude people, fast food, wasting things

warning: mentions of cannibalism and gore

Though Casimir is currently unemployed, he's earned a lot in the past while working with Yamato Pharmaceuticals that he or his children would never really have to work if they didn't want to. Instead, Casmiri spends his time in the abandoned Yamato Pharmaceutical Factory, south of Lovelock. The Factory was once one of the biggest along the east coast and it even boasted a bustling town next to it for the full time workers and their families. It was abandoned due to allegations of unsafe work place settings and due to accusations that the factory was dumping waste chemicals into the bay. Instead of really addressing the concerns, the company simply shut the factory down. When the factory was shut down, so were the apartments and shops around it.

Casimir uses the place as a dumping ground for the bodies that he hides. The pharmacy either doesn't know or doesn't care. Either way, he's been deemed the unofficial security guard for the factory and, often times, any burglars that try to trespass end up paying with their lives instead of paying the fee they're supposed to.

When not killing other people, Casimir actually butchers their bodies. He'd learned from his father who was an animal butcher and farmer by trade. It was easy enough to transfer the skill onto humans. Any parts that he didn't use like human hair and bone, he ended up just burying somewhere on factory grounds. The flesh that Casimir does end up harvesting gets cooked into gourmet meals for him and his wife.

Other than that, Casimir tends to be a househusband for his wife. When he hears trespassers, he'll come out. But, usually, he's in the house, cleaning it up, cooking food, doing various household chores, maybe even dealing with the victim of the week?

sexual preference: dominant verse turn ons: voyeurism (giving/receiving), semi-public sex, sex-toys (giving/receiving), edging (giving/receiving), medical play, food kink (giving), marking (giving/receiving), oral sex (giving), body worship (giving)

dick size: 7in

[aerodaltonimperial]

(Here I go writing crap that like 5 people will be excited about, sigh, oh well, feel free to unfollow if I'm not producing what you want anymore but I just wanna write stuff that makes me excited y'know? Anyway here's a little tease of AN ACTUAL AU - surprise surprise - that is another spooky romp tailored entirely to things that I like)

March 4

The air is cool: crisp, the sort that bites at his cheeks. Spring hasn’t rolled in enough to provide real warmth, and on the skateboard, with the wind beating against his face, it’s even colder. But it’s a straight downhill shot to the shore, taking the road that winds around in sharper turns than most cars are prepared for, and Darby’s heart is hammering hard enough against his chest to replace some of the stolen warmth.

Out in the fog, cutting through the mist that hangs over the full stretch of where the sea whips against the coast, the lighthouse is blinking.

Shit.

He takes the next curve with too much speed and almost flips his skateboard, barely managing to stay upright. It takes some adjusted distribution of his weight to remain moving. The last thing he needs right now is to smear himself along the pavement and break something. One more curve, the longest and laziest of the hill, and the road deposits him down at the coast-hugging old highway lit by a few sporadic street lamps. He hops the curb, twists, and continues down the painted yellow line until he reaches the stone pathway that leads back into the old keeper’s house and, beyond that, the tower itself.

There’s a figure already there, standing by the metal fence erected solely to keep curious tourists out. Darby kicks off his skateboard, heart in his throat.

“It’s not doing anything,” he says, without greeting, a knee-jerk response.

Two hands go up in the air, a neutral surrender. “Neither am I. Danhausen just came to check.”

Okay. Relief starts to curl through Darby’s veins, though his heart rate stays elevated. He slides in beside Danhausen and they stare out into the fog for a few moments with only the sound of the wind sighing along the rocks to keep them company. It’s a rocky slope down to the ocean, the sort of beach useless for anything other than fishing; this stretch though, no one travels down to with their poles. The locals all know better.

After a minute, Darby sighs. It’s a painful exhale. “Don’t—”

“Danhausen already said he wasn’t doing anything.” Danhausen shrugs, his mouth thinned. “But if things go poorly…”

“Yeah, I know.” He does. He’s so very aware. Darby throws an arm back to scratch at the nape of his neck. “It’ll be fine. Coast Guard is enforcing the no-sail space. And tourist season won’t pick up til June. We’ve got months to calm it down.”

“Can you?” Danhausen asks. The question rings genuine, and that’s probably the worst part.

“I’ll figure something out. Just don’t…” He doesn’t gesture at the pathway out to the lighthouse, to the bricks that they had carefully reassembled in the still hours of the morning all those years ago. He’s still afraid to draw attention to the failsafe, just in case. Just in case the tower has more eyes than they’d ever anticipated.

“Danhausen will not do anything until it’s unavoidable.”

Darby nods. “Thanks.”

“But,” Danhausen begins, turning to face him. He must have noticed the glow as he was taking his face paint off, because there’s a swipe of it along his jaw still, overlooked. His eyebrows hike high. “This is probably a bad sign.”

“Everything with you is a bad sign.” Darby sighs again. “Fuck.”

Danhausen doesn’t admonish him for the language—he knows better, learned it’s useless. “Darby, look at the lights. You can’t—”

“Yeah, I know.”

Danhausen shakes his head, then glances back to the fog and the yellow light piercing through the murkiness, on and off. Short, short, long. Long, short. The glow reflects on his face, illuminating his features. Normal. It’s always amazing that he looks so normal. Sometimes, Darby even forgets.

Until times like this, anyway.

“Well,” Danhausen says, and pushes away from the fence. “Keep the tourists away.”

“It’s fine. It’s only March.”

“Spring break,” Danhausen says.

Fuck. Darby hadn’t factored that in. “Who would come here, anyway? Boring fucking place. No beaches. They all go south. Hit Mexico. Get in the bars underage.”

“Don’t stay here all night,” Danhausen warns.

Darby nods. “I won’t.”

Danhausen leaves Darby standing by the fence alone, and Darby curls his fingers in through the twined wires, his forehead settling against the barrier. As the lighthouse starts up another round, he taps the pattern against the metal. Four short. Two short, one long. One long, one short. Two long, one short. Short, long, short. Long, short, long long.

Fuck.

He pushes back, but keeps his eyes on the glow as he grabs his skateboard again. Fuck. Darby starts off down the old highway, kicking at the pavement to get speed, but his thoughts stay behind with the tower perched on the surf-beaten rocks and the word repeated, over and over, blink by blink.

H-U-N-G-R-Y

[archoniluthradanar]

A Day on the Boardwalk with the Volturi Masters

The fourth place winner for the Summer Fun with the Volturi Masters, story poll results.

You are outside in the garden, enjoying the warmth of the day. The inside of the castle can be chilly since vampires don't notice temperature, hot or cold, and wearing sweaters inside is common for you. The fireplace in your room provides enough heat, when you're actually there. You look at your bare arms, wondering what they will look like in the sun once you're a vampire. Would you sparkle as prettily as you'd seen the Volturi sparkle? It seemed absurd that vampires would sparkle in any case. No TV or movie vampire did that. But these were genuine creatures of the night, only they weren't relegated to existing in the dark. Your entire belief system about beings that shouldn't even exist was thrown out the proverbial window when you had been saved by the Volturi masters. You were so happy they did exist, and that they'd granted you permission to stay with them.

The masters had been busy today with a few trials that involved errant newborns and their indiscreet sires. After judgement had been passed and punishment meted out, Aro was free to come outside to greet you and see how you were doing. You scoot over once you realize he intends to sit next to you on the bench. He generally does things without prelude, assuming everyone knows what he wants without his needing to say anything. The Guard usually do, but you're human and a newcomer.

"Good morning, Aro. Court all finished?" you ask, a smile on your face. The lead Volturi master is so utterly gorgeous, just being around him makes you smile. But your gratitude for everything he has done for you surpasses the appeal of his appearance. When you tell the masters you love them, you mean it wholeheartedly.

"Yes, the guilty have been punished, so I thought I would check on you."

"Aro, do you really have to determine if they're innocent or guilty, or do you make that decision ahead of time?"

"My dear, if they were innocent, they would not be standing before us. Do you understand?"

You pat his hand closest to you and nod. "I do. And you must do your job well, or the planet would have been in chaos long ago."

He's pleased you understand their importance in the vampire community, and bends over to kiss your cheek. "Now that we are free for a few days, have you anything you wish to do? It has been interesting seeing the human world through your eyes. Name it, anything you wish to do."

"Well...there is one thing. It means leaving Italy again."

"Where to this time?" he asks you, curious.

"There's this boardwalk I have always wanted to visit on the East Coast of America, and never had the chance. It's in Ocean City, Maryland."

"The ocean again?"

"I love the ocean, Aro. And it's fun, if you enjoy people watching, eating, walking, and oh yes, they have rides and games too."

"But, dear one, we have done these things already."

"It's not the same, Aro. We can't swim since it's so crowded, and therefore there'd be no privacy for us. This is more people oriented, and I thought you all might enjoy the prospect of mingling with my kind for a change, as long as you feed before we leave. We could stay one night at a beachfront hotel and just relax. You do know the concept of relaxation."

Aro nods and places cool fingers under your chin. He leans in and kisses your warm lips in his usual familiar manner. You sometimes wonder if Sulpicia knows about his ways and doesn't care. You'd hate to have her despise you for the liberties her mate takes for himself. "Very well, my dear. Make the necessary preparations, and let me know when we should be ready."

"Thank you, Aro. It'll be fun." You rise from the bench and look down at him. "You're making it possible for me to do the things I missed out on when I left America." You lean down and hug him, then run off. "Thank you again!" you shout as you leave the garden.

Later that day, you seek out Aro, who is in the library with Marcus and Caius.

Excited to be traveling again, you give the masters the details of this short trip. "We have a room booked at the Grand Hotel, direct ocean view with king and queen beds, and a kitchenette, which is important only to me. It's right on the beach too. There's a game room, and several pool tables and darts in the bar. They have an indoor and an outdoor swimming pool. And our room has a balcony for those of us who don't need sleep. You can sit outside and watch the ocean and the night sky. Its the best I could find on short notice, and since money is no object, I was able to reserve one of their remaining best rooms."

"It sounds lovely, my dear," Marcus says, noticing the pink rise in your cheeks. Your enthusiasm is bubbling over and it can at times be catching.

The next day, the coven awaits Heidi's arrival, their walking meals already approaching the throne room. You are always ordered to stay in your room during these times, for your safety. While the Volturi feed, you're looking up information on the boardwalk. Aro already made sure the jet was ready to go. It will land in Baltimore where you have a car waiting. Then in less than 3 hours, you should be in the city by the sea.

Without realizing, you've fallen asleep on the bed, your cell phone in your hand. You wake when you feel someone kissing your neck. Opening your eyes, you see Marcus bending over you. "Wake up, little human. We're getting ready to leave."

"Is everyone done eating?" you murmur with a yawn.

Marcus smiles when you ask. Feeding off humans is something that's so normal for them and should be just as grotesque to humans, yet you ask as if they had just eaten pizza and not human blood.

Taking his hand, you get up off the bed and throw a few things into an overnight bag. You freshen up in the bathroom, then change into blue jeans and a red button up sleeveless shirt. Your long hair is pulled up into a ponytail and your favourite hoops are in your ears. You turn to Marcus, smiling, and slipping on your sunglasses, ask, "Does everyone have their contacts and sunglasses, Marcus?"

"Yes, dear one, so if you are ready..." He takes your bag and extends his free arm for you to take, and you both leave your room.

The flight is uneventful, and before long you're landed in the state of Maryland. The car is waiting, as expected, and you drive everyone to Ocean City in record time. The hotel is not quite ready for your check in, so you ask the masters if walking the boardwalk would be doable now. They agree and walk with you, dressed as casually as they had chosen, in black jeans and pullovers. They surround you in their usual formation, Aro in front, with Marcus and Caius on either side of you, protecting you even when there is no need.

The masters look around as they move gracefully along the boardwalk, finding the place a chaotic one of noise, light, voices over voices, and the smell human of blood mingling with sweat, suntan oil, and fried foods. You just see humanity at its most casual.

"Oh, isn't it wonderful," you say, dancing around the masters. "Listen to the ocean waves washing ashore, hear the seagulls flying overheard. And look at all the half-naked humans. All that bared skin, the blood coursing underneath it, just waiting to be savored like fine wine. A mass of foolish humans deserving to be bitten...and you can't do a thing about it." You laugh in an exaggerated tone, similar to the villains in old cartoons.

Caius grumbles low in his chest. "Why are you doing this," he asks you. "You're an evil little girl."

"I'm just getting back at you for all the teasing. And I'm not a little girl." You stand in front of Caius, your legs parted, your hands on your hips, glaring at him. The next thing you know, he's coming after you, his teeth bared.

You run and hide behind Marcus, who is tolerant of your behavior, finding himself amused. Using his body as a shield, you round him several times while Caius pretends to attack. God knows if he wanted to really hurt you, he could. Your shrieks fill the air, until Caius catches you and wraps his arms around your entire body, making it impossible for you to move. You feel his icy breath wash over your neck, his teeth gnashing in a threatening manner, but you just giggle until you're breathless.

Aro has kept his patience, but finally huffs at you both. "Children! Stop this nonsense," he says, emphasizing the word 'children'.

You stop struggling in Caius' arms, and tug your clothing back into place when he releases you.

Caius glares at Aro. "Brother, do not call me a child. We were just...playing." He turns to you, smirking.

You look up and point. "A T-shirt shop! Oh, we have to go in there and look for the perfect t-shirts to take home as souvenirs." The masters follow you into the store, their eyes perusing the wares hanging everywhere.

You look over the shirts with ocean theme images on them, something that would help you remember this short visit. "Oh no, look at these." You point out a wall displaying various supernatural logos, some vampiric in design.

The masters scan the shirts, finding them amusing. You show Aro one that says 'I'm a vampire. Don't let this human costume fool you'.

"I think I prefer this one," he says, showing you. It reads 'If I say "First of All", run away because I have prepared charts, data, research, and will destroy you'.

"Well, that's not very nice, Aro."

"Exactly, my dear."

"I have the perfect one." Caius shows you his choice which says, 'Once a King, always a King. But once a Knight is never enough!'

"Hmmm?" you suppress a smile.

"You do understand the play on words," Caius queries, one hand sliding up your arm, giving you goosebumps.

"Yes, Caius, I get it. Now behave, before Aro gives us another dressing down." You look for Marcus, who is looking over the display. "Find anything you like, Marcus?"

He picks out one that says 'Wear Black, Drink Blood', then looks down at you, his brows raised.

"Well, it's to the point. And very Volturi. I love it." He puts an arm around you, asking you if you've found one to your liking. You point to a blue one that says 'Ocean City, Maryland. Summer paradise.' with an ocean, two palm trees and the sun imaged on it. It was typical tourist kitsch and you grab it.

Aro pays for all the t-shirts and you get to carry the bag. When you leave the store, you see a stand that sells buckets of fries. You've heard of this stand and run over to get a medium size bucket. You return to the masters, eating the hot fries one at a time. And as usual, Aro makes a face.

"Child, your health."

"Aro, it's one small medium-sized bucket, and besides, eventually I'll be changed and then it won't matter. I'll be in perfect health. Forever." You feel a hand tug playfully on your ponytail. but when you turn around, no one is there. "Caius," you mutter.

As you continue down the boardwalk, you find a gaming room loaded with all kinds of machines and a large sign that says "Prizes!" hanging overhead.

You challenge the masters to play the bowling game, asking them to give any tickets they win to you. You don't do too badly, but vampire skills win the day, and your hands are soon full of tickets. You sort them out and stuff them in your pockets. then challenge them to air hockey. Caius is always up to a challenge that feels like a battle, and offers to play with you once he understands how. Aro and Marcus watch with curiosity and are soon cheering you on. Of course Caius wins but he does give you all his tickets. After a while you add up them up and redeem them for another stuffed animal.

"What is this, my dear?" Aro asks, turning the toy over in his hands.

"You claim to have read more books than any human in the world, and you don't know Winnie the Pooh?"

He gives you back the bear and states imperiously, "We don't read children's stories, dear one."

"Hmmm. Well, maybe we should get to the hotel. Our room may be ready by now." And it is. Once in your upper level suite, you look around, smiling when you see the large balcony. You go out and look over the entire boardwalk, the beach and the ocean beyond. "It's perfect," you whisper.

The masters are not impressed, feeling there is no grandeur, but if it makes you happy, they are happy.

"I'm hungry. Can we go downstairs and get something to eat, and maybe get a drink and play pool?"

In the bar, you find one pool table not in use and claim it. You persuade Marcus to play against you first. With a mai tai in your hand, you choose your pool stick and wait for Marcus to do likewise. He watches you break, and in no time he understands the concept of the game. You love pool and have not done too poorly, but Marcus easily beats you three out of three. You put your sticks away, but before he walks away, you stand on tiptoe and kiss him. He watches you silently while you go pick up your drink.

After several games of darts, in which both Aro and Caius defeat you, you finish your drink and say, "If my ego was in constant need of boosting, I'd be very depressed by now." But you realize, you don't need to think about your ego. You have the best companions in the world.

You fetch a supper from a local eatery and then return to the room. The masters go sit outside on the balcony while you eat, then you join them. You stand behind Marcus, your hands on his shoulders. The sun is now setting, and the crowds have thinned considerably. You inhale deeply of the salt-sea air, so different from the air in Volterra.

You feel Marcus rest his cold hand on yours, drawing you down. He seems to enjoy the warmth of your skin. The sweet scent of warm cinnamon milk, with a dollop of whipped creme, fills your nose. His soft hair tickles your cheek.

When you ready for bed, tired from your full day, he is the one who tucks you in. You ask him to lie with you awhile, whereupon you both talk about the day, and you even dare ask a couple of questions about being a vampire. As you fade off to sleep, you feel Marcus kiss you, gently at first, then with a bit more passion. You determine you need to speak to him about things, things...and then you're out.

The next morning, you feel hands shaking you. It's Caius. "Wake up, little human. Time to get ready to go."

"No, please, just three more hours." Then hands start to tickle you, making you shriek, "No fair! You're not ticklish. Stop! ARO!"

"Brother, she is awake. My dear, get ready please. Caius, take her things downstairs and we will be down in a moment."

No matter how much fun the masters seem to have when you travel, they also seem just as eager to go home.

Aro looks at you, then takes your hand in his and begins to read your most recent memories. After a couple seconds, you suddenly pull your hand from his.

"I'm not finished," Aro says, a frown on his face.

"Oh yes, you are," you retort. "I think I deserve some privacy where...uhem, my thoughts are my own, Aro."

He nods once, but then he gives you a smile of understanding. "I'll wait until you've had the chance to discuss the issue with our brother."

As if you plan to let him read you then. You huff quietly, and leave the room, Aro right behind you.

You meet up with patiently waiting Marcus and Caius, then leave the hotel lobby together.

"Let's ride the tram back to the parking lot," you suggest.

"Tram? What is a tram?" Aro asked.

You point at the conga line of open cars being pulled by a lead car. "That is the tram."

"Why take the tram, my dear?"

"Because I'm tired, Aro. And it would allow me one last look at everything before we go home. Hello, it's your little human here. You could run the length of the boardwalk in the time it takes to say 'run the length of the boardwalk'. I can't."

Aro bends to whisper in your ear. "All the more reason to change as soon as possible."

His whisper tickles. "I know," you say simply.

"She must be tired to offer no argument to that proposition, brother. Let's take the tram," Marcus says.

Everyone climbs onto the next tram, and rides it the length of the boardwalk to the parking lot. You take one more look around at the ocean, the shops, rides, then watch the masters while they do the same. You feel a hand take your own and look up at Marcus. He leans over to kiss your temple, then looks straight ahead. You lower your head and smile. You have a feeling Volterra will become your permanent home sooner than you thought. But for now, you're enjoying showing the Volturi masters a world they don't know as they prepare you for a world you never knew existed.

A/N : The vampire-themed t-shirts are real. Found them at an online shop.