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oddballwriter · 1 year ago

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Dwelling in the Night, Part Seven: Special Delivery

Series Masterlist

Summary: Steven is caught up about the night that The Silhouette talked to him, thinking he was Marc, MoonKnight, but they sounded so much like his friend and neighbor YN. Steven spends nights and days thinking about it denying clear signs till Jake comes up and decides to let Steven in on a little secret.

Warnings: Mentions of vampire-themed things such as (implied) consumption of blood and blood bags. The reader is the vampire. Steven had a bit of a moment where he was in denial. Steven and Jake argue and bicker throughout a mass majority of this chapter but what's new? There's talk about reader being in danger of being hunted down by vampire/monster hunters.

Author’s Snip: Here we go! Part seven baby! And I got notes for eight done and working on nine. I hope you guys are liking this because the end is NOT in sight. Lol

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2244

It's been eating at Steven for days now and he couldn't get it out of his mind.

He saw you enter the alleyways, he knows he did. He could recognize you easily. But next thing he knows he comes across the Silhouette and they actually talk to him, and they sounded like you. But it couldn't have been you. It just couldn't. Steven refused to believe such a thing.

He and the rest of the system know what the Silhouette is and they don't really hide it either with how they talked about what they do and why even if they themself never actually confirmed it, and you just couldn't be that. You couldn't possibly be a vampire.

Vampires were bloody-thirsty beings that went out looking for someone or something to get their meals from. And that just wasn't you. You could be such a thing. You never loomed over him. Never looked like you had some plan in your eyes.

But then again you never go out in the day, apparently sleeping due to... something regarding your lifestyle or work. Did you ever actually say what you did that would cause that? Your strict liquid diet. Your collection of antiques. The closed curtains in the day. Your interesting decor. The photo of who you say is your relative that you look exactly like through some weird genetic lottery.

No. No. That's ridiculous. This is ridiculous. You aren't a blood-sucking vampire. You were too ni-

"Jeez, what's got you in a twist, huh Steven?" Jake intrudes in the middle of Steven's train if thought. "Nothing. It's nothing." Steven claims to his co-alter. "It doesn't seem like nothing I can feel you thinking yourself into knots in here." Jake says, "Mind telling me what that is, amigo?" Jake asks again.

Steven sighs with a bit of a groan at the tail end of it, "Something strange happened a few nights back when I was doing the rounds around the block." Steven admitted, but Jake's silence was a tell that Jake wanted him to be more specific. "I saw Y/N leaving into the alleys. I thought that was odd so I followed them a bit because that's the alleyway and I wanted to make sure nothing happened to them. But I lost them at some point and when I did, that Silhouette person showed up and talked to me, I think they thought I was Marc." Steven explained further. "And?" Jake questioned. "It's stupid. I'm just getting in my own mind." Steven claimed again. "What was so weird about it, Steven?" Jake prods. "They sounded like them." Steven finally confesses.

"You think they're the same person?" Jake asks.

"I didn't say that." Steven idly corrects.

"So you're all caught up on the fact that they sound alike but you also don't think that they're the same person?" Jake inquires with a tone that holds skepticism towards Steven's reasonings. "I don't know..." Steven mutters before switching back to being more confident in his idea, "No. No. They aren't the same person. They just can't be." Steven proclaims. "Why not?" Jake counters.

"Because they just can't be, Jake! I have a hard time believing that they could ever be such a thing." Steven exclaims. "Vampires are unsettling and just want to drink blood and use trickery and other things to get it. I've never felt that way with them. I've never felt in danger around them, if anything I worry about them being in danger or getting hurt." Steven explains. "So your reasoning is that they're too pretty and polite to be a vampire?" Jake remarks.

"What the bloody hell are you trying to get at here, Jake?" Steven snaps back.

Jake's silent for a moment, but only a short moment before speaking again. "Give me the body." he requests, "I have something to show you.".

🩸🩸🩸

It was a short track, about ten minutes, down to a rentable garage that the system knew was where Jake kept all his things for his work like his cars and equipment. Marc and Steven never went or looked through to see it because it didn't have much for them. But Jake has asked Steven to stay co-fronting as Jake made the walk.

"What exactly do you want to show me?" Steven asks from the reflection in a building window as Jake waits d for the crossing light the change, "You'll see." Jake says casually. "I don't like the ambiance of this, mate." Steven comments as he stands in the glass, "I'm not a fan of surprises, especially when it's something from you." he adds.

"It's not a surprise, Steven. I just don't have good words to explain it, so the best action is to just show you." Jake explains. "Once this is all done you'll understand and know." Jake claims before continuing to walk. "I don't like how you're beating around the bush, you know that?" Steven calls out to him before moving along with him.

Soon enough, the two make it to the garage. Everything was still in place. The same cars and sets of various things say for a mini fridge on a table and a cooler set below the table Steven doesn't remember being there before. He takes a moment to think about it but settles on the idea that maybe he and Marc have just never noticed them before. But he realizes that whatever there is to see involves these things when Jake saunters towards the table. Casually opening the freezer part, taking out two ice packs, and placing one in the bottom of the cooler.

"Jake," Steven asserts, "What could you possibly have in store for you to need a cooler and bloody mini-fridge in your gara-" Steven was stunned out of finishing his sentence when Jake opened the actual fridge part to reveal blood bags, and a lot of them packed inside.

"What the hell!" Steven exclaims in horror at the display, having such a strong reaction that the body staggers slightly even though he isn't entirely fronting. Jake finds their footing and starts reaching into the fridge to grab one but Steven takes control of the body and yanks their hand back. "Jake, what in the bloo- what in the fuck is wrong with you?" Steven yells looking towards the window of one of the cars, seeing Jake looking back at him.

"It's a long story. I'll explain when everything is done." Jake says. "No! No! Absolutely not." Steven interjects, "You are explaining everything to me right now. Do you understand me?" Steven demands. Jake shrugs "Alright.", "But close the fridge door, the blood needs to stay cool or else it goes bad." he adds.

Steven shuts his eyes to avoid seeing the bags when he closes the door before looking back to Jake, "Spill." he demands again.

"Those are for Y/N. I found out that they were not only a vampire, but that they were that Silhouette person. Both because they sound the fucking same and because I accidentally saw them chase someone down. They didn't kill them but they did do some weird power thing so that they don't remember what happened and let the person go. I didn't mean to spy on them that time. I was just scouting around and happened to witness that without them seeing me." Jake started explaining. "But, I was worried about our safety so I... might have paid them a visit while they were sleeping." he then details, hesitating to admit that he broke into your flat. Steven was about the tear him a new one but Jake stopped him with a "Let me finish.". "I just looked around. I found them in the coffin in their living room because of course I did. They were... sleep? Or something. Whatever happens to vampires when it's daylight, I don't know." Jake shrugged. "Again. I did nothing to anything or to them, I just saw what I needed to see and left." he clarifies.

"After that I caught them walking the alleyways again and, while disguised, told them that I knew who they were and that all I wanted was for them to keep their fangs off you and technically Marc. And they did, they said they weren't planning on it anyways-" Jake picks back up but Steven comes into the talk. "You told them about us?" Steven questions. "I didn't say that." Jake corrects, "I told them to not hurt you and 'Moonknight', so technically Marc. They know nothing about this." Jake clears up as he points between his place in the reflection and where Steven is.

"And you didn't tell me when you learned all this why?" Steven asks, upset at being left out of the loop, "I mean- I feel like I'm experiencing all the same rubbish with Marc all over again." Steven rambles in disappointment. "I had to make sure we were safe or in danger before doing anything. I was doing my job being part of this system." Jake defends. "I get that you're mad but I was doing this to keep us safe. I would have let you figure it out but you were driving yourself nuts and I didn't know how to explain it to you without you actually losing it." Jake apologizes. "You telling me would have been nice." Steven remarks.

"You didn't even want to believe vampires existed at first. How was I meant to break the news to you that your little crush was a vampire? Plus I didn't know if they were aiming to eat from you because you're so trusting of them or not until recently." Jake rants.

Steven rubs his temples to ease his head as he digests all this information. "Does Marc know?" Steven questions in a groan. "Jake shakes his head, "As far as I know, no. I don't even think he knows that they quit their work in the alleyways since you were out then." Jake answers.

"Why did they stop?" Steven asks himself. "Listen, I just started doing this to see if maybe they would take it, and they have been. We have a thing set up where I deliver the blood bags to them and they tell me when they need more. I don't really know why they're quitting." Jake claims. "They said something about 'unwanted attention' back when they thought I was Marc that night. Plus he hardly knows YN so we might as well wait till he does and then we explain it to him." Steven mentions.

Jake does a well-that-explains-it gesture but Steven stays in the thought. "Maybe they really are in trouble. Lots of trouble." Steven worries.

"Listen, hermano. We can worry about all that later. But right now I think we should finish the delivery. Yeah?" Jake gestures to the mini-fridge. "I can finish it for you if you want. You seemed kinda disturbed by the-" Jake offers but Steven buds in, "No, I can do it." he says.

Jake tells Steven how to pack the blood bags into the cooler properly and make the walk back to the flats.

🩸🩸🩸

Steven spends a moment staring at your flat's front door. He's made the ten-minute walk back from the garage, past the front desk, and up the elevator, all he had to do was knock. But he felt oddly nervous and hesitant. Like, some part of him still didn't want to believe that he was actually delivering blood bags for you to feed off of because you're really a vampire.

"Are you sure they're awake?" Steven whispers. "It's about five-forty or so and it's getting dark out now. I'm sure they're up. They might actually be waiting." Jake answers, "Have your keys ready to head into our flat so they don't see us." Jake mentions, Steven following the instruction and unlocking the door to his flat so he could pull it off.

With a deep breath, he places the cooler at the door, does the knocking rhythm that Jake taught him, and slips into his flat without making too much sound.

Steven stands with his ear pressed to the door, hearing what sounds like your door open, then promptly close. He waits a moment before opening the door again and peaking out into the hall and looking at your flat. The cooler is gone.

Upon this sight, Steven pulls back into his flat and turns towards the rest of it but just stays standing there, looking towards the ground as he tries to process this now.

You are a vampire... that's... okay. That's perfectly fine. That's just how you are. That's great to have in mind. Now everything odd about you has an explanation and he can make everything vampire-friendly for you when you come over and he knows to overlook everything at your place. He now knows your secret. Without your knowing.

"Should I tell them that I know?" Steven ponders to Jake. "Well, you'll have to explain how and that would snowball into you having to explain everything about us." Jake remarks, "And I think we should at least have Marc in on it." Jake sarcastically suggests.

"Tell me what?" Marc's voice comes in as if it were on cue. Steven and Jake let out stressed groans before Jake chimes in "Steven, go sit down and get the mirrors.".

Turning his attention to Marc he tiredly says "Marc, bare with us here, but it's a long and wild story.".

#moon knight #moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #vampire reader #vampire au #dwelling in the night #ditn #ditn saga

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antigonewinchester · 1 year ago

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For the WIP game: I’ve totally had a medieval au worm its way into the back of my brain and now I want to hear about yours!! <3

This one was very much inspired by reading Book of the New Sun and actually enjoying its fantastical world-building, in contrast to a lot of fantasy / sci-fi books. There's heaps to enjoy in Wolf's craft as as writer, but one element I've just loved is how he uses sci-fi elements within his fantasy world without explicit saying as such. For instance, there's a part in the first section where the narrator, Severian, is looking at a series of pictures and describes one depicting a 'warrior' that if you read carefully is a description of a photograph of an astronaut on the moon.

I wanted to try my hand at a fantasy medieval world with those same hidden sci-fi elements--say in the excerpt below, what would a fantasy description of a sci-fi laser gun look like, or wait a second, horses don't have claws, what's up with that--and I'm thinking of bringing in other ideas around cloning, genetic engineering, as ways of translating SPN's supernatural concepts. Still want to bring the fantasy, though, so backstory-wise I've imagined John who returns to being a journeyman in the Hunter's Guild after Mary's death and raises Sam & Dean as his apprentices, who themselves then wander the world protecting towns from various nasty (alien...?) beasts, while Cas is a traveling monk (or maybe a knight-errant, I haven't quite decided) with Jack as his apprentice. BotNS is partially a picaresque novel, and early SPN, in the bros traveling around & its monster of the week format, has picaresque elements to its storytelling, so I liked that overlap. (Also I'm definitely self-indulgently trying a stylized fantasy tone with my prose, so we'll see how that goes!)

“Lucianus!” Dean screamed, and raised his colt. A weapon that could kill anything, Dean had said, and now Jack knew he had spoken true: a sun was growing at the end of the colt’s black mouth. A bright sphere without warmth, it cast its light over everything, and for a breath twilight became noon and Jack could see the horrors laid out before him—yellow ember eyes burning on Lucianus’s face; his horse rearing up, claws extended; soldiers gathered behind him, skin gleaming grey—and then in a blink the light flew, a white falcon that caught its prey in a burst of thunderous fire.

#ask games #fic #now i really want to hear about your medieval au!!

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outofthiisworld · 1 year ago

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plots please + give me ur whims

-j.ustin m.celroy voice- welcome. babies. To The Fruity Pebbles Castle of Torment: A Scary Castle with 100 Rats.

I uh. went super batshit wacko mode below the read more, cause there is just too much fun to be had with your muses. cool reminder than none of these are in any way expected, just throwing spaghetti at the wall here! 🍝

—Plot a—

ATLAS au, of course! This tends to be my go-to but like…plaaaay with me. You have a scientist muse. I have a scientist muse. They’re both old, stubborn bastards. We should shove them in a box together and see what happens. Gero would be a godsend for the space colony, and I can easily see him either raising the ranks to being an Upper Echelon if he wouldn’t be one from the jump due to his incredible work in both mechanical and genetic engineering. He’d also have near-free will to work on whatever he pleased as long as it cultivated ATLAS’ so you know. That’s wonderfully terrifying. Doc was the primary medic who was tasked in both research & development of many of ATLAS’ bio experiments and lifeforms (as well as regular crew members too!) so i can see these two very easily be forced to work together on plenty of projects. While muses have a mind of their own and who knows how things will develop, I get vibes that these two might have a… enemies to friends to enemies again relationship? They’re both stubborn geniuses with conflicting personalities, but they both have similar work ethics and would probably bond over NOT bonding with others in the colony. The thrill of science!!! However— Doc is a man led by his heart, and as the clock ticks closer to Doc’s eventual betrayal against ATLAS that sparked the containment breach and their personalities clashing again— Gero is… a very good case of the type of scientist that Doc grows such mistrust and hate for. There’s an ironic tragedy in this somewhere i can smell it. Also side note: Doc, pointing at fetus Cell in a test tube: GERO what in the HELL is THAT ???

—Plot b—

This one is cheating because it has to do with Sofia and her lil bro Guadalupe, who don’t even have their character sheets finished yet (but I hope to remedy that by this weekend for at least Sofia—cross my fingers), however you asked for my whims so whims you will get. I think it’d be neat if Takuma knew Sofia from school or something similar before she disappeared— maybe she was Nicole’s friend and they met through her? Sofia does… not have any friends, so I can see Nicole and Takuma being the couple that look at this shaking, panicking mess and be like………..well…………someone has to take care of her i guess. In the ✨timeline✨, Sofia is yoinked by ATLAS on her 20th birthday— after Guadalupe convinces her to leave the house for once in her life and celebrate it! She could have gone out with both Nicole and Takuma— and then uh. You know. Yoink. Up to here it can go in SO MANY DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS depending on how you’d want to go with this. A few ideas spit-balled: - If all of them are yoinked, Lupe would spend his days trying to search for all three of them. - If Takuma doesn’t get yoinked with Sofia and got lucky— Lupe can knock on Takuma’s door middle of the night being like: “hey quit your job and join my descent into madness my silly roadtrip adventure to try and find my sister.” (at the moment, I’m planning on Lupe to accidentally become a monster hunter/cryptology nonsense so Takuma can join in on the fun). - Takuma ATLAS experiment au (the crowd goes silent. No one is surprised)

—Plot c—

Back at it again with ATLAS— I’m sorry I’m like this man, those bastards have been on my mind lately. Anyway, you wanna cause some MORE everlasting trauma for poor Cynara? I got the perfect place for it, you’ll never believe it. Cynara can fit in so many different places for ATLAS. She could be a crew member, possibly an engineer who is unaware of the secrets that ATLAS hides? Until, you know. She finds out by accident and her self-destructive compassion is put to the test. She could easily be an experiment— Hell, maybe ATLAS saw a crew member digging too close to the truth, they didn’t like that so they were like: alright bet *experiments on you against your will* Or— maybe she was in a similar boat to Ophelia/Sofia— got yoinked while minding her own business; regardless of where it goes, I think it’d be a fun way to poke at her theme of feeling helpless despite all her prowess. We love some existential dread here in this house. What she was experimented for and what happens to her is all up to you (obviously), either something completely new or throw in references for her skinned verse or her lovely black hole powers she has going on later (which, could land her right in the hot seat to be in that ELiTe ExpEriMenT task force that Ophelia was part of. I really need to workshop a better name for that team before the placeholder name becomes official…) Regardless, her compassion and altruism would be a breath of fresh air for both Doc and Ophelia— and her never ending, martyrdom tendencies could give Doc the wake up call to kick start the containment breach. And you know. If Cynara wants to be part of their found family in the end <33

I feel like I need to financially compensate you for reading all this.

#viopolis #//jesus FUCKING christ i just saw what this post looks like on mobile i am. so sorry.#//maybe get a glass of wine or something before you sit down and read this? maybe second dinner?? good grief #//anyway. blows you a platonic kiss #ᯓ👽˖° asks #ᯓ👽˖° ooc

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canichangemyblogname · 2 years ago

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Star Wars media is rife with a very particular trope: the Space Jew. This tropes is when an alien, monster, animal, or other nonhuman creature embodies characteristics of a real-world racial, ethnic, or religious stereotype. Think: Watto or Cid.

This trope often gets confused for the "fantasy racism" metaphor where a writer might deal with a very complex subject that might otherwise be censored by using two racial, ethnic, or religious groups of aliens, monsters, animals, or other nonhuman creatures. This metaphor has been used with varying degrees of success and many would caution against using this allegory all together.

Because, typically, writers aren't exploring the social and economic complexities that result from decades of medical discrimination between the two-headed Boubas and three-headed Kikis. The metaphor tends to be as surface level and as shallow as the writer's understanding of the subject matter.

Aliens, monsters, animals, or other nonhuman creatures have long been used in media as a stand-in for black, brown, and indigenous people. Writers will make a monster character and often single out black, brown, or indigenous people as part of the "monster" group being discriminated against by white people. This, however unintentionally, reinforces the association of black, brown, or indigenous people with animals or animalistic characteristics. It reinforces racist ideas that they are not human. It also reinforces racist ideas that POC are simultaneously physically super-human: stronger, faster, and more agile than their "genteel" white counterparts.

And it is worth noting that this is a theme that disabled folks, Jewish people, and Muslims also get lumped into.

Now, I bring this up in response to some fan works I see regarding the Clones, but also with fan-favorites like Darth Maul. And I'm not just talking about the fan works that give these characters more animalistic characteristics like the "Wolffe bites" trope, I'm also talking about ones that make them animals or monsters.

Where they take an in-universe fact like, "Hunter was genetically altered to have heightened senses," and turn it into: Hunter will stalk and hunt you through a forest and when he finally catches you, he bites you until he draws blood--oh--snd he can smell when you're bleeding or ovulating.

These fics are making groups like the Clones stronger and faster than human men. They are making them more agile. For whatever reason, they growl and bite. They eat flesh and need to consume blood and have a one-track mind that runs on loop: breed, breed, breed. Or they're a "monster" because they're an alien or because they're genetically modified or because they're disabled.

I've seen this with Hunter. I've seen this with Wrecker. I've seen this with Crosshair. I've seen this with Darth Maul. I've seen this through non-con "sex pollen" tropes. I've seen this with Savage Opress. I've seen this done with Grevious. I've also seen this done with: Tech, Echo (the literal reason was because he is disabled), Wolffe, and Fox.

I shouldn't have to say: don't do this. And I shouldn't have to constantly re-iterate that the blueprint; the model, for all the clones is a brown Polynesian man.

Your fic isn't hot. It's racist.

And I've seen people try to explain this away as kink, as if kink can't be racist. There are a couple differences between your partner chasing you through the house as foreplay and what I described: 1.) consent, 2.) your partner is still human.

"But what about A/B/O--"

If you're only writing ABO fics for brown men or black and brown-coded men, but not for your other faves like Kylo of Obi-Wan or Anakin, please analyze that. Please analyze why you feel the need to make black and brown men- and sometimes exclusively black and brown men- half-wolf.

#racism in fandom #ableism in fandom #TW: blood mention #Clone Troopers #The Clones #Darth Maul #Savage Opress #media tropes #fan works #The Clone Wars #The Bad Batch

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jawritter · 4 years ago

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Born Under The Wrong Sign

Part 2

Summary: Dean Winchester, hunter, killer of Gods, demons, and monster, was born as an Omega. It never felt right, and he wants a change of biology. After all, just cause it’s what we’re assigned, it shouldn’t identify who we are…

Pairing: Omega!Dean Winchester x Alpha!Reader

Written For: @spnkinkbingo

Square field: Total Power Exchange

Word Count: 2511

Beta’d By: @miss-nerd95! Thanks again hun!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Identity Crisis? ABO Dynamics, smut, unprotected smut, mention of past abusive parents. John’s A+ parenting, knotting, dirty talk, language, talk of sex change and presentation changes. Some self hate. Claiming, knotting, mating, hint of a possible breeding kink. I think that’s about it.

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve ever written like this one, even for ABO, and even though I’m sure they’re out there I’ve never read one quite like it. So, that being said, I’m pretty nervous about throwing this one out there for you guys! So I really do hope you enjoy it! Feedback is golden! Please do not copy my work! This is part 1, part 2 will drop later this week!!

My Masterlist My Patreon

A lot had taken place since Dean’s heat ended three days ago.

Step one of your plan to find a way to switch your biological presentations started with you contacting Sam at the men of letter’s bunker, and setting him to work researching to see if there was any lore that could help you both in your pursuit.

Dean was worried that Sam wouldn’t be supportive or understanding of his current predicament, but Sam was more than willing to help his brother in whatever he chose to be. John still had Dean repressed a little to this day, it was a deep rooted fear of Dean’s that his family would be ashamed of him or reject him for feeling what he felt. Still, Sam set to work right away.

Now it was just getting back to the younger Winchester at the Bunker and seeing what he found. You had taken a few days to make sure Dean recovered from his heat before traveling with him. This one had been bad, and he was still pretty tired, but he was also anxious to get back to his brother and see what he’d dug up.

Dean was in his post heat, clingy phase as well, which added to traveling difficulty. Instinct was telling him to nest down and cuddle with you, and that was hard to do and drive, so it put you behind the wheel of Baby while he lay curled the best he could across the seat with his head in your lap.

You subconsciously stroked his hair with your free hand as the miles rolled underneath you both and carried you closer to home. You would occasionally glance down at Dean, and you did note that he looked uncomfortable in this position, but what other choice did you have? You had to get to the Bunker as soon as possible if you were going to find an answer to this problem at all.

Dean had fought against his biology for so long, that when the Omega side of him was more prevalent around his heats it looked odd to you. You were so used to Dean carrying himself as an Alpha would, that it almost looked as unnatural to you as it felt to him, and you could clearly see that he was not meant to be an Omega. This was clearly a mistake of biology.

The same stood for you.

You didn’t really carry yourself like an Alpha, even in private when it wasn’t needed that you held to the act to protect your Omega from being killed by other hunters who called Male Omega’s 'Genetic Freaks'.

You loved to be close to Dean, almost as much as he liked to be close to you, and you were surprisingly submissive to him on the every day occasion. You even often let him have the upper hand in the bedroom, something he really enjoyed, and man you loved it when he took control. It felt more natural to you, it felt right, and you would be a liar if you said you hadn’t fantasized about Dean calling you his Omega just as much as he did.

Your small frame even contradicted your Alpha status. It made protecting your Omega harder, because if someone was attracted by his unmistakable Omega scent when you weren't around to claim it as yours, especially another male, they could probably overpower you. That scared you a lot, especially in bars where the threat could turn real, real fast.

You were relieved when you pulled up to the bunker, and didn’t have to stop the whole way. Dean being on the heels of his heat made his scent more prominent, even under suppressants, and you didn’t want to fight with another Alpha at a gas station.

As the two of you made your way down the iron staircase of the Bunker, you could hear voices echoing through the walls of the place, one of which you recognized right away. Rowena MacLeod. That meant Sam must have found something. Or, you thought sorrowfully, he found nothing, and he called for backup.

You exchanged a look with your mate before entering the library where Sam, Rowena, and Cas were all gathered probably waiting for you.

You dropped your duffle bag to the floor with a thud as Dean looked to his little brother with a look of almost desperation.

“Sammy, please tell me all these people here means you found something,” Dean pleaded, and Rowena guided the slightly trembling Omega to a seat in front of a bowl full of ingredients for a spell, and you took the one next to Dean; taking his hand in yours to give him a sense of security as much as you could.

“Well, we think we have found something that can be tried,” Sam said, moving to the spell book that was open at the end of the table as Rowena grabbed your laced hands, and placed a twine of what looked to be rope laced with lavender around both of your wrists.

“Apparently, you two aren’t the first to feel like you were born with the wrong presentations,” Rowena explained, adding a few more ingredients to the bowl before plucking a piece of hair from each of your heads.

“So this spell is going to virtually swap our presentations?” you questioned, looking between the three other people in the room.

“That’s the idea,” Cas answered, folding his arms over his chest. "I’m here just in case anything goes south and you guys need a quick healing.”

“The spell is painless,” Rowena interjected, seeing Dean’s worried expression as his gaze shifted between you and Cas. “But the spell will change you on a molecular level, so Castiel’s presence is just a precaution, really.”

“You ready for this,” Sam asked his brother, who then looked at you with worry swimming in the green depths of his eyes.

“You sure you want to do this with me. That you won't regret it?” Dean asked, and you tightened your grip on his hand in assurance.

“I told you, Dean, I want to do this as much as you do,” you assured him and he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Okay, do it,” Dean said to the room, and as if on cue Rowena began chanting over the bowl, her eyes glowing a bright purple before she struck a flame to the contents and a warm feeling rushed through your body as the twine around your wrist disintegrated in a flash of light.

For just a moment, it seemed as if the world stood still as the whole room watched the two of you, and for a moment you were afraid nothing had changed. That was until you caught Dean’s scent. It was stronger, more potent than you had ever smelled it. Warm sandalwood and whiskey with just a hint of mint, and your mouth literally watered at the scent.

You opened your eyes just in time to see the yellow glow of the Alpha now residing in your mate’s eyes fade as his gaze locked with your own, and a deep rumble growl erupted from his chest as he pulled you into his lap like he was scenting you for the first time.

“Fuck, you smell amazing, Omega,” he said, rooting around your mating gland with his nose before lapping at where your claiming mark would very soon reside. Slick was already gathering in your panties just from him touching you, and everything was so intense it was almost breathtaking. This is what you had always been missing. It felt right, and for the first time in his arms, you felt like you were finally home as you purred against him.

Sam clearing his throat loudly reminded you both that you had an audience, and Dean reluctantly pulled away from you to glare at his little brother with annoyance.

“Well, I take it the spell worked,” Rowena chuckled before grabbing Sam by the arm. “Come on you two, let’s leave them to it. They need to get reacquainted with each other.”

They made a quick exit, and you and Dean watched as they retreated up the stairs and completely out of the bunker, leaving you alone with your Alpha.

“Well, looks like we have to get 'reacquainted',” you told Dean, looking up at him and finding his lust-filled gaze staring down darkly at you.

You noticed he was sitting a lot straighter and looked all together more stronger. It suited him. You also noticed that your old claiming mark was gone as you ran your fingers over the empty space over where it used to lay over his now smooth skin, and a shiver ripped through his body.

“Don’t have to tell me twice, baby girl,” he rumbled, lifting you with ease and carrying you towards your shared room.

It was as if your body was already in tune with your new Alpha, and every step Dean took towards his room, the wetter you became. The light cramps of your first heat were already licking at your abdomen, making you whimper and nuzzle closer to him and his scent.

Once you were in his room and the door kicked closed behind the both of you, Dean made quick work of the clothes that were covering both of your bodies and was now hovering over you, exploring your body as if he was seeing it for the first time again. His lips making trails, memorizing what makes you tick all over once more, taking your breast into his warm mouth, sucking and lapping at your body until you were all but begging him for his knot.

“Hang on Omega, I got to warm you up first,” he murmured against your lips and you shivered as his fingers descended on your slick folds, running through them before breaching your entrance with ease. He pumped and curled them, adding a second finger, then a third; pressing his thumb against your throbbing clit as your body fell apart around his fingers and he scissored you open, preparing you for his knot as he kissed you drunk, swallowing your moans as pure pleasure washed over your body.

You whined at the loss of his fingers when he finally removed them from your body, and he chucked against your lips, pecking them softly, and nibbling along your lower lip.

“Please, Alpha,” you beg him. “I need you to knot me, stop teasing.”

Dean grunts lowly in his throat, licking at your mating gland and rutting his already leaking cock through your folds, making your body arch off the bed to meet him in a silent plea to be fully filled by him.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of you calling me Alpha, sweetheart,” he admitted kissing you deeply. “Gonna take such good care of you Omega.”

You shivered at the mention of your new presentation while nipping at the skin of his throat.

“Turn over and present for your Alpha, pretty girl, let me see what’s mine,” he commanded, and before the words were all the way out of his mouth you were on all fours, presenting for him. The deep approving growl that fell out of his mouth had slick literally siding down your thighs.

“So fucking beautilful, baby girl,” he praised as he slowly pressed the tip of his cock into your waiting heat. “This pussy mine baby girl, all this slick because of me?”

“It’s all yours, Alpha, all for you,” you told him with a keen as he snapped his hips forward and seated himself fully inside your heat with a deep groan.

All thought process, all words, everything flew right out the window as humanity faded away and pure animalistic instinct took over as Dean pounded relentlessly into you, driving you higher and higher until you could feel his cock swelling further and his knot starting to catch with every thrust. His fingers slipped from your hips to your clit and he began to rub furiously in time with his pace until you were screaming his name and coming around his knot as it locked the two of you place as he lifted you body against his, his teeth latching deep in your throat, calling you as his as he spilled into you, filling you with his cum.

When you finally came down from your high, Dean was licking at your new claiming mark, healing it only the way an Alpha could, and he was lowering you both so that now you were on your sides.

“You okay, Omega?” He asked, purring as he nuzzled into your hair, reveling in your scent that was mixed with his own.

“Perfect, Alpha,” you said, slipping down deeper into his hold.

For a long time no words were said, no words were needed. The unexplainable peace that was between you was enough. For the first time, everything was as it should have been all along.

Dean always knew, he just knew he was never meant to be born as an Omega. It was something deep down inside of him that just was always there from the moment he presented, and the same was for you. For the first time. Everything felt right.

“You know, maybe we can try to have pups now,” you said after a while and Dean’s body had already been detached from your own.

“What?” Dean asked, sitting up on his elbow and tucking the strand of your hair away from your face that had fallen.

“Maybe we can have pups now. I mean, It’s not as dangerous for me to carry them, and now that I’m an Omega we don't hide my heats away. I could stay here at the Bunker and raise the pup and help with research...I don’t know. It’s just something I want with you now.”

Dean thought for a moment before bringing his lips to yours in a slow kiss, one that made your toes curl.

“You know what sweetheart, I think I like that idea. A lot.” Dean admitted.

This was the first day of the rest of your new lives together, and now there was a chance to have a family, and Dean knew then. He was really and truly finally at home in his own skin for the first time.

“I love you, ya know,” he told you, slipping your leg over his hips and sliding his already hardening length into your still slick center. “My pretty Omega.”

“I love you too, Alpha,” you purred as he slowly started to rock his hips into you, dragging his cock through your heat and sending waves of deep pleasure through your body. “Now fuck a pup into me baby. You know how impatient I am,” you teased him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he laughed. There was a promise laced in that chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the first of many promises he intended to make good on, and you couldn’t wait to start a family with him. Your Dean, your Alpha.

Forever Tags:

@deandreamernp

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ABO Forever:

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#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester mini series #dean winchester seires #dean winchester smut #abo #ABO Dynamics #alpha!reader x omega!dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester x omega!read3r #x reader inserts #spn fanfiction #spn smut #spn fanfic #spn mini series #jensen ackles #jawritter #born under the wrong sign

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bigkyloenergy · 4 years ago

Text

𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙀𝙔𝙀𝘿 𝙑𝙀𝙉𝙊𝙈

CHAPTER II.

a witcher!kylo x reader fic. dark themes, smut ahead. 18+.

summary: you are a barmaid / stablewoman at an inn in toussaint, kylo ren, one of the last of the witchers from the school of the viper regularly stays at the establishment. you wonder what keeps him coming back.

read on ao3.

Nothing could make up for Kylo, the Viper — whoever he was -- making you cum then leaving you stranded once again. At least, that was what you told yourself when you’d collected the coin from the bed, the pile he’d always left, the pay and extra that could afford him another three weeks there.

You swore under your breath, cursed the Viper who left your thighs warm with need, unable to tie your bodice without the memory of his assertive hands, demanding to see every part of you.

But those words caught in your mouth the moment you turned, running directly into his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh — what? I mean, no — I’m... was closing up your room,” you explained quickly. You could feel his gaze burning through you. “Thought you had um — checked out for the night.”

“That isn’t your job.”

It was the truth. Your duties weren’t supposed to go past the care of the horses (which you refused to give up), and the front for customer service. The tidying of the inn was left to Myra, the innkeep had hired her the moment she gained the budget for her. Not that they wouldn’t mind making you pick up an extra task. But this task-- the motivation was all your own.

“So why are you in here?”

You finally met his gaze, the connection wrapping you in a warmth so deep it burned fear into your consciousness. He heard you, he was trying to pull it out of you. You could have swore he didn’t blink the entire time he was staring at you.

The black surrounding his face brought out his eyes in a way that was deadly, framing them, charming you until there was nothing left in your brain but the galactic orgasm you’d experienced weeks (what felt like years with him in your presence) prior. He wanted you to forget. That gaze dropped to your neck, where your pulse would be, before he reached up and wrapped his hand around the entirety of your throat.

Then the innkeep was making her way in the door, and Kylo was hesitantly dropping his hold. But he never took his eyes from you. It made you feel so supernaturally bare.

“Oh. Sorry, sir — I’d thought you’d gone by now,” the woman said, though she was shooting daggers at you. Like it was your fault he’d stayed.

Was it?

“Hm.”

“Did she say something? I can have Myra take care of you, if you ne—”

“I don’t.”

And with that, he turned, and your breath was released from your chest. He ducked under the door, and Miss Betty lurched forward to snatch your arm. “Have you any idea who that is, what he is, you daft thing?”

Squinting your eyes, you leered at her, “What does it matter?” The room was fuzzy from yet another adrenaline-spiking meeting with the Viper. You looked after the doorway, then back to the woman, tearing your arm away from her, “He pays enough coin to keep us afloat. You should be thanking me.”

“He’s a Witcher. A mutant. A monster who slays monsters. Stay away from him. I can’t afford for you to lose your innards.”

If only she knew.

But you only stared, her words licking a cold up your body. And you believed her, like she had just given you a piece of the puzzle that was the Viper. Taking your hand, she picked every piece of gold from your grip, holding it for a moment too long, “You stay away from him. You hear me?” You just nodded, allowing her to collect what belonged to her before you went back to the bar. Where you belonged.

You took in the entirety of the inn, hoping you’d see him on your way downstairs, the only customer being the cook, Ruek, leaning over your spot yielding a mug heavy with ale.

Going behind the counter, you found a rag and made yourself busy, wiping glasses that didn’t need to be cleaned. You felt his eyes on you.

“What?”

“Nothin’, just… the Witcher came out, then my mother came after you… then you after her, now your cheeks are all flush and I’m just curious is all.”

“There you all go with that word again. What is that? I just thought they were sorcerers like any other. Bounty hunters. Inspiration for bards.” Your eyes rolled, rag squeezing in your hand the same way it did the night he’d made home in your subconscious.

Ruek clicked his tongue, “Might as well break your ignorance if you’re going to be changing his sheets. That man… if you even want to call him that, is Toussaint’s greatest curse..”

What you knew about the cook in the Pheasantry wasn’t much, but you did know that he had traveled inns upon inns just to cook for different breeds of people. His eyes were wise with stories, knowledged wrinkles framing his kind smile, you trusted him more than most of the folks that you worked with. Not that Beauclair was a bad city..

“Curse? You’re starting to sound like your mother.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just surprised you don’t know any of this. You look …” He searched your eyes, before sighing, “am I just scaring you?”

“No, I want to know. Your mom was trying to do that, for my own good probably,” you scrunched your nose, knowing she'd never try to purposely scare you. She looked out for you to the best of her capability, a mother to most who ended up employed here, “I mean, you said I should know. So just tell me.”

“Okay. You know about the monsters in the waters, right? The sailor special— drowners.” Ruek laughed at his own joke.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve heard about those, yeah. That’s why you don’t go into them alone, especially at night. But they’re no real threat.” Ugly blue humanoids that looked like overgrown fish, their teeth sharp enough to shred skin..

“You’re not wrong, but I’m not talking about those kind of monsters. That’s my point. Normal Witchers were made to save us from those creatures, protect our villages, keep us safe from impending doom. The only reason those monsters aren’t a threat is because of them.”

“So they’re .. guards against the supernatural?” You asked, trying to understand why you should be afraid of a man whose targets weren’t human.

“To put it lightly. Those are the stories you hear. They do it for coin, usually, contracts are pinned calling to them for help to save a child or survey a forest… all of them come from different schools, not sure why, but as boys they were all either sold off, given as rewards or to put it bluntly: taken. I’ve heard some of them don’t even know their real name, had to name themselves because Witchers aren’t exactly… you know, warm. You following along?”

You nodded, his eyes an image in your head, luring you just as they did every time you were in front of him. Ridding you of any other focus. “Different schools? Like there’s more than one kind of Witcher?”

“Sure, I’m not… really sure how many, or even if any stand. After they get initiated, if that’s what you want to call it. They go through erm.. Trials? Mutations of the bodies, to make them more apt for being able to go against these beasts. Some of them don’t make it, most of them didn’t. In fact, that Viper is probably twice — fuck, maybe even three times my age.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. Mutations do a helluva lot of things to their genetics, including life span. Their senses are heightened to a way we as humans wouldn’t even be able to describe. Wouldn’t call them mages, but they can wield magic with their hands. They’re called something…”

“Signs.” Miss Betty answered as she trailed down the stairs, making you jerk from Ruek’s gaze. But she just continued on, as if she hadn’t added to your conversation.

He nodded, “Yeah. Specific magics for their fighting needs. Anyway. The necklace they have, the medallion — all of them wear it, represents the school they’re from. Pretty sure it has to do with their freaky senses too. But that one, he’s called the Viper because that is the school that taught him. And… well, they were destroyed years ago. For not submitting to the new government. Even others Witchers say to this day, they don’t even know where it was located. Many think of him as an assassin because it isn’t part of the Witcher morale to take contracts on humans, even lesser threats of beasts… but a Viper takes the deal no matter whose head it is.”

“No more.” Betty interrupted, taking the glass from in front of you to break what felt like a trance, “she can listen to the drunkards and bards to hear the rest of it. You’re off for the day, consider it a mental break.”

The inkeep grinned, almost as a farewell, leaving you to give Ruek an apologetic shrug. Not that you didn’t want to listen, but it almost seemed like he was trying to scare you.

Nonetheless, you were off, your mind running through what you’d just been told. Taking the bag that hung over your shoulder, you decided to go back to your house first to change. You’d already taken a bath last night, after you’d touched yourself enough to make your wrist numb. You whimpered his name in the confines of your washroom, tested it on your tongue, hoped that you would get a glimpse of him the next day.

But all you had gotten was the interaction this morning and your rushing thoughts. Honestly, you didn’t even know that he had come back. It had been another three weeks since he’d touched you in the stables, maybe a few days more… not that you were counting.

Have you been fantasizing about some otherworldly being? Was he even human? You couldn’t verify that yourself, and his fingers had been inside of you. The only thing you’d seen of his face wasn’t exactly humane. Yet, the Viper didn’t scare you. You were curious, ready to set gasoline to the flame licking inside of you.

Another bath. That was what you needed.You’d change from your bright work gown, put on some trousers. You wished Ruek’s story had scared you, prepared you for another three weeks without seeing Kylo, another three weeks imagining your fingers were his own.

But it didn’t.

Your hand wrapped around your own throat, sighing gently before it began to trail into the water.

———

A basket was tucked low in your elbow as you made your way through the market, deciding against curling up in your bed for the rest of the evening. You knew exactly what would come of that.

The best of goods were being offered by merchants that beckoned you over, colors decorating their tents, the scent of fresh bread in the air. Children ran past you to chase one another in a game you were sure you played when you were younger.

Your hair dried at your shoulders, cheeks still flush from the scorching water you’d made in a futile attempt to shed the inn’s recent events.

“Ma’am! Fresh fish, finest in all of Toussaint!”

You turned, looking to the merchandise, scales reflecting off of the coral buildings.

“A pound for half the price!”

You gave a tight smile, but continued on — until you ran so hard into someone that your feet lost all memory of balance. They caught you at your arms, stabilizing you as if you weighed close to nothing.

“The idea of following someone is to not let them notice you.” The voice caught in your ears like a starving venus plant, unknowingly holding onto his forearms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.” You took a step back, dropping your hands, the Viper still wide in your gaze.

He had been tucking something into his bag, quick to have it blend back into the mass of black. The sun still kissed the sky, enough to see him in a different light — one that could be argued for a better view than the horizon. His armor consumed the rays, shining an iridescence off of it that you didn’t even know black could make. By the time you made it back to his gaze, you noticed him taking your body in as if it were one of the things being offered at the market. The mask carved barely above his nose, you identified a scar just over his left eye.

He seemed to suck in a long breath, and you wouldn’t have noticed if it didn’t somehow make him larger.

You wanted to make conversation, but his gaze was already bored, and you were desperately scrambling to gain his attention, “If I were to follow you, it wouldn’t be in a market.”

He quirked an eyebrow, as if to give you permission to go on. You plucked a green apple from your basket, rolling it between your fingers, “I would do it somewhere where I’d find you alone, maybe even follow you to your camp and wait there until you found me.” Teeth broke into the fruit, and you spread your lips on it, suckling the juices as they dripped down your chin. You brought your hand up to scoop it back into your mouth, keeping eye contact as if you were on trial.

“Come.”

“What?”

Again, he didn’t answer. It was growing to be a pattern between you. He simply mirrored your stare for a pinch of a moment before he turned on his heel. You scurried behind him like a starved pup.

As Kylo passed through the crowd, he didn’t bother to shift out of anyone’s way — they did it for him. He glided between bodies, never letting anyone dare to brush against him while he stomped with determined direction.

You followed him until you were tucked in an alley, but he didn’t give you a moment to question him before your front was pressed against warm brick, hips secured to the wall by his own. You gasped at the hard outline through his leather pants, nails digging into the grates in the wall. The back of your mind begged you to remember the things you were just told, but the fingers that snaked over the nape of your neck and into your hair coaxed those thoughts away.

He yanked it back, forcing you to lean against his chest as he pushed himself into your behind. Your body immediately responded to him, heart thumping in your ears like a war drum with the anticipation of feeling him again. In any way he would give you.

A dam broke, your blood was replaced with molten lava, the only thing to keep you from focusing too much on your already shuddering breath was the hand that came down on your ass. Hard.

You yelped, hips edging into the alley, but there was no escape. This only drove the Witcher on, palm, punishing the same tender spot he had just gifted you.

“Shit!”

You gasped, the warmth becoming more noticeable in the root of your most sensitive bits.

“You walk around like this and expect me not to take you?”

A frustrated huff met your confusion, his palm flat against your belly, arm wrapped over your front to grab the inside of your thighs, kneading them in appreciation. His target wasn’t particular, enjoying the way you felt.

His fingers hooked into your waistband, catching your panties in the process as he tugged them down your legs. A growl followed, one that ricocheted through the narrow space he had commandeered. You whimpered in response, blood rushing to the tips of your ears when you felt him crouch behind you.

Leaning your chest into the rock, you spread your legs as much as your trousers at your ankles would allow, and then you felt teeth sink into your cheek, free hand collecting the pillowy curves of your behind. Your eyes rolled, his leathered digits squeezing marks into your waist as he pulled you into his mouth.

And that was when it hit you.

His mask was off. Kylo’s mouth was on you.

Another moan. At first you thought it was him — you didn’t recognize it, but your mouth was gaping with proof that the foreign noise had just fled your chest. And this only enabled him.

First, it was his nose. Spreading your folds open and using it as a doorway for his tongue to explore, angling through them until he found the nub, swirling the agile muscle against it.

You so badly wanted to tug his hood down, wrap your fingers in the raven locks that that you’d glimpsed, but you had nothing but the wall for security, the roughness of the stone. And the Viper’s godly mouth luring you further into his will.

One hand stayed on your cheek, massaging and spreading it while his head ducked between your legs to send you into a pleasure frenzy.

“Yesyesyes, fuck — right there.”

He opened his jaw further to suck your swollen pussy into his mouth, your juices saturating his chin while he tamed you.

An impatient nip scathed your skin, only for him to begin to move his head in a way that you knew no other ordinary man could replicate.

Ghosting a hand up your spine, the Viper took a heavy grasp of the back of your neck, forcing you forward. Your forehead met the grainy siding, you twisted in an attempt to move your face away from it. In such quick movement the harsh stone dragged along your temple, scraping your skin, the hiss of pain melting into a cocktail of affirmations.

For the second time, something clicked.

I want to hear it the next time I make you cum.

The memory alone had you jerking down into his merciless mouth, the Viper growling in return, sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt. He stretched you open, your jaw clenching while two unforgiving fingers entered you.

Your feet were nearly lifting off of the ground from the force of his devoir.

The savory noises coming from you were just as easy as your breath, you couldn’t open your eyes at that point, your lids too heavy with carnal gratification.

No longer did you care who the Viper was, but what his name was when it would pass your lips.

Curving to the part that would absolutely demolish you, the Witcher took care in carving you out to remind you of his demand, with the same fingers he had made promises of death with. You gave it to him, your jaw slacking as incoherent encouragement for him to continue while he sucked your pulsing clit into his mouth, plunging into you so hard your body jiggled with his movements.

“Kylo!”

The shriek vibrated your skull, body jerking with the restraints of his large grip while you melted in his mouth. He took a few more lazy slurps, finishing you off before he left you to pull up your pants, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if you could overpower a mutant that everyone spun tales about.

By the time you caught another glimpse of him, his muzzle was secured back. He looked at you from under half-lidded eyes, as if he hadn’t just planted another seed for your damnation.

“I thought you were leaving,” you blurted as he exited the temporary hideaway.

He quirked his head slightly, still statequsue as he considered you. “I am.”

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x you #hv.

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isei-bleeds · 4 years ago

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sorry if this has been asked already but i saw predator 2018 and.. was fugitive actually part human or had he just gotten human dna injections like the bad blood predator

I am not a fan of the Predator 2018 movie. I think those of us who grew up on the classic Predator films felt betrayed by this movie because nothing about the Predator character felt ‘yautja’ as we had learned to know about them, socially and culturally. I understand there can be exceptions, because we wouldn’t be expanding on the entirety of humanity based on just western militia, and we shouldn’t do the same to the yautja based on just the Hunters that humans encounter. Hunters are just a fraction of the entirety of yautja civilization. But if you took out the Predators in that movie and replaced them with any other generic made alien/monster, the plotline wouldn’t have changed at all. There is no impact to the threat being a Predator, which is what the older movies emphasized on - this is NOT a being you charge at head-on, it requires tact and intelligence.

Jumping off of that tangent... He wasn’t part human, per se. He was part anything else they hunted much alike its antagonist counterpart. Long story short; the Predators were hunting around the galaxy and injecting themselves with DNA of their kills to genetically modify themselves. Part of that genetic splicing included human DNA.

The antagonist, the Giant/Ultimate Predator, took it too far. Either he was experimented on by other yautja, or he took it upon himself to acquire more and more genetic modifications like a sports player addicted to steroids. Likely? A bit of both narratives.

However, while I can accept that yautja would take samples of what they hunted for study, if not acquire live species for the same, there is something that does not sit right with me (and many other fans) when it comes to the genetic splicing. It is very well established that yautja hunt to acquire ranks, glory, trophies, and mates. These are the personal milestones that a Hunter has acquired through training, determination, strength, and wit. They clearly have the superior technology to blast humans back to the stone age, but they do not USE them. Anyone can use a highly advanced blaster or technology to overwhelm unsuspecting prey, but where’s the sport in that? A true yautja proves themselves in the hunt and combat on even ground, with as much fair odds as they can manage. In THAT, there is glory - either in victory, or death.

The idea of genetic modification feels “off” for a Predator narrative, especially for our hero Fugitive.

#yautja #predator

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starwarsfic · 4 years ago

Text

Hunters

Originally posted September 25, 2020

Summary: Some monsters are made, some are born.

Details: Jango/Obi-Wan. Sithspawn!Stewjoni verse. Monster!Jango.

CW: Kinda cannibalism. Huge consent issues. Implications of future noncon.

xxxxxx

The scent-feel hit Obi-Wan the moment he stepped into the cycled air of the compound where he'd been directed to land on Kamino. It was completely unfamiliar, but made every instinct within him bristle.

It wasn't the Kaminoans, not any he met, but when he got into the room with the clones he had his answer. Whatever they were--or at least whatever their template had been--was no more human than Obi-Wan himself was.

His guide confirmed it, that they’d taken the “beneficial” parts of their template’s genetics and tempered the others. They’d be stronger, faster than most of the sentient species (and the implication the Kaminoans didn’t think of these clones as sentients was very clear), but still obedient.

To the Jedi. Who they were supposed to serve.

Obi-Wan had no idea how he was going to explain this in a single data packet to the Council.

***

Eventually he managed to get the Kaminoans to agree he should meet the template. The walk towards his rooms had the uneasy feeling increasing steadily. From the way the Kaminoan’s emotions shifted, he thought it might be the same with them, too. It wasn’t just from the Force or Obi-Wan’s instincts, there was something more at play.

His whole being felt tense when they reached the door, only his training as a Jedi keeping it from showing. When the door opened, it was to a human-looking figure recognizable from the form the clones had taken.

Fett. A Mandalorian name. That helped to narrow things down, even if it didn't clarify everything, and Obi-Wan tried to analyze what he knew as he ran through an introductory conversation on autonav.

There weren't many native Mandalorian creatures left, the Taung had hunted many to extinction, most of the rest were killed off in the Mandalorian Excision. But there were some that had been sentient and had been integrated into Mandalorian culture enough to survive.

None of them were what the humans considered pleasant creatures, many classified by the Republic in some of the same categories as the Stewjoni.

From the blur of light around Fett, Obi-Wan guessed he wore some sort of illusion--one that sharp eyes and Force senses couldn't break through, even. Which was odd, since his Force presence was...so indistinct. If Obi-Wan wasn't looking at him, he might even miss he was there at all.

He stiffened, realizing he actually might know what Fett was, although he'd only ever heard them spoken of in legends.

"I thought the hoda'nynii were all gone," he said as casually as possible when they were finally left alone.

Fett's eyes sharpened and Obi-Wan could guess that he was suddenly putting together all the little clues that had confused him when a person who seemed so human showed up at his door. He moved closer, as though stalking prey. Obi-Wan had to keep himself from responding negatively, especially as Fett began to circle him.

There was no other outward sign of physiological responses, but there wouldn't be--the hoda'nyniise were experts at illusions and it would not break until Fett was dead or dropped it himself. When he concentrated, he could feel something brushing against him, which he imagined must be Fett's tail, a deadly weapon in itself if the legends held other truths.

"La'ar'striilii," he finally stated and it took Obi-Wan a moment to comprehend it was the Mando'a for Stewjoni. "What happened to you?"

He stopped at Obi-Wan's back, hands hovering where the graceful crest of spines would have been. It was all Obi-Wan could do not to hunch into himself, feeling vulnerable at the reminder.

"Not everyone can trick others into seeing what they want."

Fett made a noise, more shrill than the soft trills of Obi-Wan's people, but he decided it might simply be a thoughtful sound. When he walked around to face Obi-Wan again, there was no warning before the illusion dropped.

One moment, there was a human-looking figure, the next there was a hoda'nynii straight out of the stories the Mandalorians would tell at night to scare each other. A dark, smooth exoskeleton was and a face full of teeth and pedipalps was what Obi-Wan noticed, first. Then the thick, serrated tail rising up behind Fett, not quite pointing at Obi-Wan, but still a threat.

Every instinct--Stewjoni and Jedi-trained--was screaming at him that this situation had turned deadly. And intellectually he knew that, too, because why else would Fett reveal himself so obviously?

"Is it true what the stories say, that your kind heal by feeding?" Fett's voice matched the noise from earlier, but was more, crowding Obi-Wan's ears.

He tilted his head to the side, deciding that he'd play along if Fett wished it. "Yes, though it depends on how strong the prey is in the Force."

The face he watched wasn't one for the human expression of a smile, but Obi-Wan thought that was what answered him.

There was a momentary shift, Fett's tail swinging towards him. Obi-Wan dodged, calling his lightsaber to his hand, not getting the chance to ignite it before it was knocked away. His opponent knew something about fighting Jedi, it seemed.

Fett's room was more cramped than Obi-Wan liked for combat without his lightsaber and he'd never encountered something like him before, was tripping over illusions as he dodged and attempted to strike back with fists and feet.

The Force found Fett too slippery for any sort of throws, sliding off of him the way a weapon might his exoskeleton, but that shouldn't have affected the warnings it gave Obi-Wan. Yet, it did, because the danger remained too low, lacked the urgency that a life or death situation always had.

It was only when Fett knocked into him, his body slamming Obi-Wan to the floor, that he spared a moment to wonder if maybe there was no plan to kill him.

***

Obi-Wan woke up somewhere else. His senses still buzzed with the unsettling feeling of the clones (they couldn't be actual hoda'nyniise, he didn't think, instead some sort of hybrids using characteristics that the Kaminoans liked, even if Fett was possibly using them for re-population).

But closer, much closer, were two Kaminoans. Barely conscious, already bleeding. Injured as he was, Obi-Wan let out a few notes of Song before stopping himself.

"Please, there's no need to refrain," Fett, back under the illusion, said from what looked to be some sort of observation room. "Help yourself."

Looking around, Obi-Wan had the sinking feeling he wasn't going to get out any time soon. Not until he gave Fett what he seemed to want. The only door was clearly reinforced and if he had to bet, he’d say this was some sort of training room, everything designed to take heavy weaponry without a mark.

He licked his lips and looked back at the Kaminoans, tracking the waves of Force around them. Despair, fear, confusion. The sense of their lives was strong, they wouldn’t be dying any time soon.

Could he outlast this? Not if Fett truly meant to do this. For all he knew, there was a way for him to just keep dropping people into the enclosure until Obi-Wan’s instincts overrode his common sense.

“What do you want?” he asked, needing a delay to collect himself.

He didn’t think the pause was caused by Fett thinking it through and more likely that he was up to something else and away from the internal comm.

“I want to see you, not this human creature the jetiise made you.”

A traditional Mandalorian of any sort didn’t normally favor the Jedi, he could understand a hoda'nynii liking them even less. But the Jedi had taken him in and kept him safe and it aggravated him to think that anyone would think so poorly of them.

“Do you know what a young Stewjoni is worth on the slave market? A young force sensitive? A young Stewjoni force sensitive?”

“You aren’t young anymore. A grown Jedi can take care of themselves, especially one with your unique abilities.”

He turned his attention to the Kaminoans when one of them moved, tracking every shift. Jango had done just enough damage that he’d want to heal.

“And what I want doesn’t factor into this?”

Obi-Wan waited, thinking perhaps Jango was done talking, but then the answer came, “You can’t know what you want. I’ve seen the jetiise at work, I’ve studied them and what they do. None of the children they take could resist indoctrination.”

He’d heard enough of this sort of nonsense on his Mandalore mission and in other sectors of the galaxy where resentment ran high. He knew there was no easy way to counter it without making Fett double down.

He could feed, could suck the life from the Kaminoans, let the energy unleash itself against all the grueling work done on his body. After, he might be able to lull Jango into giving him more freedom. Or, at least, ignoring him once he’d seen what he wanted to see. Just because no one else was in the system didn’t mean there weren’t other Jedi around.

After collecting his thoughts and mentally preparing for what would happen, he crawled the short distance to the Kaminoans, Singing softly into the Force. He waited until they had relaxed, soft noises of pleasure escaping them.

Then he leaned over the first, lips nearly touching, eyes locked, and pulled. He twined their life into a ball inside of them, twisting and turning it together, before he brought it up to himself, sucking it down.

Obi-Wan gave a full body shudder, tipping to the side, as the meal filled him. He’d never eaten like this, never taken and taken until a body could give no more. The energy filled him, racing underneath his skin, and he could feel things shifting and changing already.

“Both of them, you can do it, mesh’la,” Fett ordered.

He was upon the second Kaminoan before he’d registered Fett’s words. This time he sipped and savored, on and on, dizzy from the overload of energy and the healing that was being done.

When he was done, he fell back and away, scrambling at the permanent lenses affixed to his eyes and pulling them out when the pressure got too great, tracks of blue blood following in their wake. His ears itched, his back burned, even his claws, with so few changes, hurt in their own way as they grew thick and healthy again, long and sharp.

At some point, everything stopped. There was energy left, flying over his nerves and soothing some deeper part of him, but it had done all it needed to do to heal him. When he shifted around, turning to lie with his front on the cool metal floor, he realized the energy had even destroyed the parts that had been added to him to help him pass.

“Mesh’la,” Fett said again, from within the room this time, and his tone made it seem as though he was surprised to find Obi-Wan so beautiful. “I had heard stories, I had not realized their extent.”

His hand brushed over the side of Obi-Wan’s tall spines and he felt them swaying gently, no longer familiar with how to move them as he wanted. He turned his head, tracking Jango against the bright colors of the Kaminoan style walls.

He needed to get away, he knew that, but he was exhausted and off kilter, on a planet full of hoda'nyniise, or whatever the clones counted as. Fett didn’t seem the type to give up control, must be playing everyone involved in this, and now Obi-Wan was one of them.

Claws stroked ever so gently over his body, a rumbling like a purr buzzing through Fett, making Obi-Wan’s skin crawl. “Are you going to tell me why you’re doing this?”

Fett gave a semblance of a chuckle, a sound that had the familiarity of a noise mimicked and not natural. “The Jedi will die,” he stated, with the simplicity that someone might say Kamino was a water planet. “A treasure such as you shouldn’t be lost with them.”

It was a trap.

Obi-Wan would find out how to stop it. One way or another.

xxxxx

Mando'a: hoda'nynii - made up from hodar (deceive)/hodasal (camouflage), nynir (hit/strike). Plural is hoda’nyniise. la'ar'striilii - made up from laar (song) and striil (a dog-like anima)/striilir (track/trail), the Mando'a word for Stewjoni Mesh’la - beautiful

#character: jango fett #ship: kenfetti #character: obi wan kenobi #verse: sithspawn stewjoni #theme: dark #verse: alternate aotc #theme: mandalorian culture #theme: possessive behavior

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hughiecampbelle · 4 years ago

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Skin Crawler (Geralt of Rivia Oneshot)

Character/s: Geralt

Word Count: 1,342

Inspired By: going bonkers in quarantine :)

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @biscottibitch @randomfandomimagine @fangirlsarah16

A/N: Writers block hit ya gurl like train recently. I've had so many ideas, but everything I write and continue to write feels wrong. Tonight though, I made it my mission to finish this fic! It turned out better than I expected, but I'm still really unsure.... Been stressed with family and about getting my results back from a school I wanna transfer to and it's gotten in the way of all writing and creativity, not just for fics. Gotta work through it and try my best, even if I'm unsure about the end result, right? Anyways, I hope you like it my loves!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

A myth. A legend. A story sewn through the years, from the mouths of babes, their toothless tales warping, drooling over the past, becoming mutilated with every new generation. The image of this creature, this beast, torn to shreds. Pulled apart limb by limb, tendon by tendon, strings of veins delicately plucked and knotted back together. It all depended on the family, the area, the one who told it's history. The creative freedom genetic, hereditary. The personal fears of the speaker embedded in the body of the beast. Big eyes. Six limbs. Sharp teeth. Claws. Eventually, it became truth. Fights, wars even, broke out when some dare utter it's name in public, drunkenly letting it slip past their lips. There was only one thing the masses could agteen on: it always came with a bloodlust. A hunger for bone, a want for flesh, something that could never be hushed. Across lands, even the most isolated places, feared this thing chewing them up and spitting them out.

A cursed thing. Hundreds of years pass by, and yet they still cower at the name. Children brought up to fear these things, warned that a death wish rest in the woods if they ever went alone when the sun went down. Deep within, that's where they lay. They used to be countless. Infinite. In packs all over the world. There was strength in numbers. Was. People of the past, they grew tired of being scared. Exhausted of fear, of terror, wanting something better for their children, for the future. They wanted the light to shine again. Sending their best, their biggest, to fight, to kill, to put an end to the terror. Some came back. Some didn't. Those that did carried skins of their backs of scales, of fur, whatever it was those things looked like. Massive. Night after night, a kiss on the cheek, a promise to come back safe, sending them off into the uninown. It wasn't immediate. It wasn't easy. It was a long, hard war, but they never stopped. Not until there was only one left. Going into hiding. Receeding, shying away for as long as it could, for as long as they were willing to hunt.

This time it was the one that was afraid. Unsure if it would live another night.

It would, though. Lived in hiding. Watching, one by one, the hunters grow grey, their kin grow up, grow old. Waiting long enough for them to trade their weapons for words. Creeping out of its prison, spotted in the night. Screams for help, for safety, looking for someone to put an end to the nightmares permanently. That's where he came in. Something of a beast himself. Split between the two worlds. They hoped he could think like it, see what makes it tick. Track it down and kill it. A poor people, putting whatever they had together as payment. Do whatever it takes to get rid of it. For too long they'd been haunted by ghosts, too long they went without a happy ending. He was that. He would be the golden eyed knight in shining armor risking his life to save them, his image stitched along the rest of the story, bringing it to an end.

He'd always had a fascination for it. A life as long as ten mens, an image created by weary eyes and infinite imagination. He'd seen more creatures than he could count, than he could name, but this was something special. Finally, something worth fighting for. It could have had the face of a million things created by man, compared to every living beast that ever wept under the sun. Beautiful and delicate, or broad, strong. As soft as a cub or razor sharp as a blade. This unfamiliar feeling settling in his gut, putting him off ale for the first time he could remember. It woke him from his sleep, filling his dreams with terror. Unlike the very thing he would slay in a few short hours, this had a name. This was familiar. This was doubt. This was uncertainty.

Geralt dressed at dusk. Nocturnal, they said. He begged to differ. He'd lived as both man and monstrosity. Sometimes it was safer to use the night as a cloak of protection, of invisibility. Whatever it was, it was smart. It wasn't new to survival. Part of him pitied it. The last of its name, like him. What a lonely world it must be. He made his way through the trails, going where no man dared, the grass that had been kicked up and trudged through growing thicker the further he went. Left his horse behind with a final goodbye. This was his own battle. One, he realized, he might not come back from. Everything too often ended in death. He could only hope it would not be his own.

You watched him, caught sight of his moonlit hair through the thick of the woods. Angry, determined, but there was something else in his footsteps, something greater: panic. His racing heartbeat like a drum, faster and faster, frantic with every step closer. Lived in the caves, beyond what the eye of man could see. He believed them, he trusted them, and now he had to trust you. Sword in hand, shiny, glittering, aching to tear the world in two. You huddled against the walls, crouching in the dark. He wasn't like them, you realized. Those men, those brutes, slaughtering mindlessly, praying on the weak, celebrating death. You'd watched them carry the skins of your friends on their backs, mourning their own and cheering on bloodshed all in the same breath. He came alone, taking the weight of it all on his own broken shoulders.

Reaching the mouth of the cave, the den that cradled you all these years, he sighed. The light ending, sending him into the abyss. You couldn't let him hurt you. You couldn't let him believe these ancient lies any longer. He had to know the truth. You had to show him the truth. Letting out a whimper, leaving him something to follow. Cautious, he stepped, his knees weak. What would he find? What would he finally come face to face with after all? His hand free hand outstretched, his other raised with the sword. You stuck your face out, eye to with him, bracing for the sharp edge of something sweet to slice through your neck in seconds, readying for your fate. Geralt dropped his weapon, his breath catching in his throat. Realization sinking in, flooding his body with relief, with guilt, with an overwhelming urge to cry. He'd been prepared to see anything. A dozen legs. None rows of teeth. The howl of a thousand screeching sirens. His worst nightmare, even. But not this.

Not your eyes. Not the very thing he fell in love with centuries ago.

They were right, after all. A curse. An unlucky bunch. One after the other, stumbling in the woods alone when the moon was full and the stars were alive. You never saw her coming. Blinded, dragged, no use in fighting. Thrown in the middle of their den. Screeching, crying, these creatures wailing. Not out of anger, but terror. Escaping the light of the lantern, avoiding the eyes of a woman. Beneath her cloak she became hysterical, throwing it in their faces, watching them wail. She found comedy within their pain. Each backing away, pawing at the rocky walls. You hadn't realized it until it was too late. They were just like you. And now, you would be like them. A kiss, soft, sad, an apology before she got to work, did what she'd intended to do. A witch, as close to one as you'd ever come. Your body torn apart, bones broken, blood vessels bursting, reborn into something new. Something bigger. Less human, more monster. She threw what you used to be in the trails, warning folks away. They didn't understand, though. Reading the messages all wrong.

Those beasts, they weren't feeding off those people. They were those people.

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weaselle · 5 years ago

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Hey, do you think you could do an 'Old World' post, like the one you contributed to before? The one with the huge trees and ground sloths and musk oxen being goats. I ADORE that post, and I'm hoping to see more eventually. Please don't feel like you have to, I would just enjoy it :) hope you have a good one!

do you have any idea how much I appreciate being asked to talk about something I’m interested in!? Thank you, I’d love to

Imagine this: It’s 100 thousand years ago. There are dwarves, trolls, goblins, imps, giants, a couple kinds of elves, the First People (those that came before us all) something that might later be called seraphim, and many strange monsters.

I’ma talk about monsters in a minute. Let’s talk about those other things, the like, fantasy races. Now, I don’t have time for every one of these, so I’m going to cover one I have the most information on. Dwarves

A sister species of humanity that is short, broad, bearded, some with red hair, lives in caves in the hills and mountains, are superb crafters, making instruments, wearing intricate leather outfits and known for creating large expertly made axes and hammers. Dwarves, right?

Or did I just describe Neanderthal

See, the earliest stories of dwarves from Scandinavia are confusing, because sometimes they talk about them being small or short, but sometimes talk about them being enormous. And that’s actually perfectly explained by Neanderthal

Check it out. Neanderthal, while noticeably shorter on average, were BUILT big. Look, it’s not just the cranial capacity, the eye sockets are larger, the nasal cavity is larger, the mandible is thicker, the teeth are larger, the bone around the ear and eye is thicker. Looking at these skulls you would assume the person on the left was far bigger than the person on the right, and you would be correct, in every way except height.

So when the earliest stories of dwarves sometimes talk about them being short, and sometimes being massive, this situation matches. Neanderthal were THIC. But they averaged about five foot four at a time when humans in the north were passing 5 foot nine

That’s only averages tho, so sometimes it would be like a 5.1 Neanderthal and a 6.1 Sapiens, but sometimes it would be like, a 5.6 inch Neanderthal and a 5.3 inch Sapiens. Which makes the early myths make even more sense:

me, a 5.5 neolithic farmer, whose community of farmers trend toward the short side, having met my first Neanderthal, a 5.8 man built like a bear twice my weight and three inches taller than me “the Dwarves are massive! giant! huge!”

you, a tall hunter from a community of hunters who tend taller than average, who runs into Neanderthal several times a year and knows they are usually nearly a foot shorter than you are “you mean the little people?”

I’m pretty sure that humans were actually the elves that came in both dark and light varieties in these Scandinavian myths, but that’s a whole topic involving the way that invaders often adopt stories of the people they invade. But there are other species, not just Neanderthal and Sapiens and Denisovans, there was also at LEAST one other sister species we’ve found genetic proof of within our own genome. And who knows what relatives of ours were living only on the exposed continental shelves of the last 100 thousand year ice age? So there are a lot of options for elf.

ANYWAY

I like to think of all these sister species of humanity as being these fantasy races. I know I mentioned goblins and imps, and all I have to say is if you’ve ever seen videos of people dealing with baboons or macaques in some town somewhere, you can appreciate what a population of humans who were much closer to wild themselves might think of similar species.

NOW. Monsters.

Not only are there many strange animals to pick from, but I use a fun thought process to include almost anything I want.

See, when you say a creature lived from X time to Y time, it’s because we have some bones from X year, and we have some bones from the same creature dated to Y year. That’s great for describing what we know for sure.

But for what MIGHT have been, for what’s possible, you can extend the range

It’s pretty safe to assume we didn’t get a fossil of literally the last of them to live. So if I want to think about how a mythical creature sounds just like a real creature, but that real creature was from a time half a million years previous to the culture, well, that could still be a match.

Consider the Siberian Unicorn also known as Elasmotherium sibericum a species of rhino. We thought they went extinct 200 thousand years ago, which would have made them unavailable for the time period we’re talking about. But then we found some bones from between 30 and 40 thousand years ago, which means they might have out survived the Neanderthal!

Now consider the Coelacanth a 4-6 foot fish we were sure went extinct with the dinosaurs. Turns out we were wrong by about 75 million years, because they’re still alive today

So clearly, as long as there is somewhere preserving approximate environmental conditions, any number of things could have far different periods of existence.

Like, we know of Denisovans, a whole sister species of humanity, from a handful of bone fragments. This is the biggest piece of Denisovan bone we’ve ever found

That’s part of a jaw. And along with a handful of small bone shards, some teeth, and the tip of one pinky finger, it’s the only physical evidence we have for the whole species. Except that we managed to get a whole genome from the miraculously well preserved pinkie tip. This branch of humanity split from us at roughly the same time as Neanderthal, and modern Tibetans owe their genetic adaptation for higher elevations to human interbreeding with the Denisovan people. They existed for about half a million years, and the only hard evidence we have is a handful of bone pieces. From like two locations.

So if something interesting could be explained by a population of Neanderthal or Homo Erectus living outside the age range of the bones we have, that is entirely possible. Depending on how far outside, it even becomes LIKELY, because, again, we’re never going to get the LAST one that lived as a fossil, fossilization is so rare.

WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY IS THAT THE OLD WORLD REALLY WAS A WORLD OF GIANTS AND ELVES AND DWARVES AND MONSTERS AND MAGIC

wait, did I say magic? Yep. Consider this: there is a magic valley in Africa that kills anything that goes into it at night. lizards, birds, people, they just... die. But not every time - a person can walk through it during the day and be fine, or sometimes at night too. Turns out there’s a large pocket of carbon monoxide underneath that leaks out constantly. In the day, the heavier than air gas creates a layer along the ground and collects in dips and hollows, but in the cooler temperatures of night drifts up six feet or more. So you might walk into the valley and be fine, but it gets a little cooler, or you walk down hill for a bit, and boom, carbon monoxide poisoning. It can take only a couple minutes to kill you.

Viola, one Cursed Valley.

Or! Imagine you are a human from 40 thousand years ago. You find a grave, you dig it up, somebody was buried with something like a wooden axe or sword (these things exist, it’s all about the density of the wood, the wedge shape, and the weight -- a heavy wooden sword can definitely decapitate a person, and we’re taking about a time when metal was rare or non existent). But THIS wooden weapon, while clearly wood, also sparkles like a gem in the light, is hard as stone, doesn’t burn if put in the fire... THAT’S a MAGIC WEAPON.

It’s also petrified wood.

This is the world I’ve been researching for my book Stone Punk, which I’ve only managed to write one chapter of so far

I would be so happy to write so many more posts about this, I’ve been researching the first domestication of wolves, cave art, neanderthal diets, ancient Indian, Russian, and Chinese myths... all kinds of things, but this post is long enough -- hope it was close to what you were looking for Anon!

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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Call of the Blood

The morning light shined through the window and sparkled in Meixiu’s earrings. She sat at the vanity while Chu Zihang, laying in his pajamas, split his attention between watching her and reading the morning newspaper.

“So, today’s the meeting.” He hummed.

“Mmhm!” Meixiu said brightly. She turned to him, her shining smooth braids partially coiled up on her head. “Jealous?”

Zihang didn’t look up, turning the page. “No. I’m... more curious than anything.”

“In any other context, that would sound unfeeling. Most men would have objections to the love of their life dressing up and heading out to meet with another man.”

“I don’t forget that you’re only half human. I’m not Caesar.” He his golden eyes met her deep brown ones. “The effect of dragonblood on hybrid social relations is something I’ve always been interested in. How do hybrids fall in love...You say that he means something to you, I mean something to you... and you still won’t tell me what you do when you visit Lu Mingfei. Just what is love to a hybrid with blood as pure as yours?”

“So you want to study me?” Meixiu folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, smiling.

Zihang looked her up and down, from her smooth brown legs, up to her small chest and her athletic arms and shoulders. “Always.”

She glanced away, her cheeks growing a little darker. “Flirt.”

“I’m serious. I’m not the only one. It’s actually poorly studied....”

“Shhhh... don’t ruin it!” She stood up. “I don’t know when I will be back. I don’t know what he wants to talk about.”

“I have a few guesses.” Zihang turned back to his newspaper. “You’re the unpredictable one.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home. But my phone will be off.”

She turned and walked away. Zihang watched her go.

She didn’t take the car, stepping out onto the street. The distance from her Chicago townhouse to the lakeside was substantial, but the energy afforded her by her dragon blood made the distance not so daunting and would give her a chance to think. Without a mission, without the school, without danger, Meixiu just liked being another person on the street, observing other people.

She watched people as they sat with a sign, begging for handouts, or pushing strollers, walking dogs. Everyone had their own life routine but in the end it was all the same -- gather money to buy necessities.

The summer air of the city was heavy with humidity. As she continued to walk, a sheen of sweat appeared on her bare skin. She started to notice that she was being stared at, being followed by a pale skinned man with some brown stubble. .

“Hey baby. Where you goin’?”

She honored the creep’s eying her with a confident yet challenging smile. There was a time when she would have been afraid of people like him. But by now, she was accustomed to being viewed as a golden apple by far more dangerous people.

Meixiu, like many hybrids, had her genetics to thank for being outside the money making machine. Her genetics were so stable and contained so much dragon DNA that she was sought after the same way a purebred champion showhorse was sought after -- for breeding.

A man, an evil man, paid millions of dollars for just for a few of her egg cells. She was nothing but an object to him and so were her children. Strange how, at that time, she had never felt so valuable and yet so worthless.

The man following her had no idea. He hung back, his lustful stare fixed on her. Perhaps he was waiting for her to turn into an alley or an opportunity to grab her and assault her. She made a wager with herself. She still had two miles to walk. She would see if he could follow her halfway. After all, there was that whole method of walking to hunt after prey and tire them out that ancient hunters used in the wild lands.

She smiled to herself. He had no idea he was following a little Energizer bunny.

She stopped at a crosswalk and he stood far too close to her. He looked around. Was he feeling guilty? Checking for cops? Or was he looking for other creepers to warn them off his chosen prey? “If I googled Crimestoppers, will your name come up?” She asked.

He didn’t answer.

She looked up at him, silently laughing at him behind her eyes while he pretended he totally wasn’t doing what he was doing.

Much to Meixiu’s disappointment, he didn’t follow her across the street. At least when he was accosting her, he wasn’t bothering a weaker person. Maybe he thought that she could be a cop? She puffed out her cheeks, weirded out by her own feelings. Without the creeper, she suddenly felt a little bored and annoyed.

It had been ages since she had felt any sense of danger. After running for her life and fighting to survive, even the slight thrill of a creeper following her brought back that familiar adrenaline.

Eventually, the dark water of the lake over took the city horizon. Greenspace and parks and the cool moist wind breathed life into the concrete jungle. White spires of sailboats cruised like swans behind the thick nautical ropes that blocked off the jogging trail from the riprap.

As soon as she arrived at the water’s edge, she was joined by a tall figure. She turned her head up to look at him and grinned. “Hey there stranger.”

Chisei Gen removed his sunglasses. His skin was a little darker, a sign that he was truly living his dream on French beaches, but he still had the same serious air. He was wearing his dark black windbreaker. He turned to look down her at her. And then he smiled back.

“There was a time...” He said, quietly. “When you would have cowered in terror of me. And now you greet me like this? I still can’t get used to it.”

“You should visit more often then.” Meixiu leaned against the ropes. “When you called me out of the blue, I thought someone died.”

“You didn’t tell anyone I was here?”

“Of course not. But you know I can’t hide anything from Zihang. He’s the only one who knows. So... that means you can come for dinner!”

Chisei was silent a moment. Zihang and Chisei weren’t the closest of friends - that honor went to Gattuso - but Zihang had a pleasant open minded curiosity and innocence to him that she knew he found refreshing.

There was nothing cynical or jaded about Chu Zihang.

“I’m afraid I must decline. I have to remain separate from the secret party for the safety of the world.”

“You’re not a threat to the world, Chisei. You protected it.”

“I’m afraid I can’t agree, but that shouldn’t surprise you by now.”

Meixiu swallowed her disappointment. The rise of a bloodline of superhybrids, those who could over come the blood threshold and keep their sanity, could easily become the rulers of the world and dominate all hybrids with an iron fist. She knew that Chisei would never do that. But what about his children?

His grandchildren? His great-grand children?

As far as Chisei was concerned, he was a monster who needed to go extinct.

She sighed. “So what brought you all the way down here? What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’ve come here to ask. Your research into a treatment for the unstable is bearing fruit. Attacks by unstable hybrids and sightings of deadpool are at their lowest ever recorded.”

“Chime contacted me to tell me that for the first time, he’s had less than a dozen new students at his school for the unstable. And yet, the Devil Clan members still produce unstable children. It’s like... they’re disappearing.” His eyes took on a hard stony edge. “I want the truth, Meixiu...”

“If you’re thinking you’re going to dig under the Cassell college and find a Deadpool spawning tank, I can assure you that’s not the case.”

“No, I’m thinking something far worse.”

Meixiu’s hands tightened on the rope and then relaxed. “I’m not Herzog. What are you implying?”

“Everyone knows that Deadpool and unstable hybrids turn into servants of dragons. Everyone knows of your high level dragonblood. You look sane, you look healthy... but the call of the dragon will be more powerful to you than to anyone else.”

Meixiu felt her pulse start to race. “The Executive Department has not detected a dragon heartbeat in years.”

“Strange that.” Chisei continue to stare at her. “I used to lead the Executive Department in Japan. I know how deadpool work. Cassell has a higher level search network than Kaguya, but suddenly their searches come up empty? It was too strange for me to ignore.”

“So I took matters into my own hands. I’m sorry, Meixiu. But I followed one of the hybrids that failed in her rehabilitation. She got on a boat, heading towards an island owned by Cassell. So I asked Kaguya to... discreetly look into it... and Tsukino Usagi was active there.”

Tsukino Usagi - the location spoofing program that was a sister program of Kaguya. It was built to provide a hiding place from EVA by providing her with endless supplies of false data. It created a false impression of what was really going on in an area. Like a digital Nibelungen.

“Why would a program designed to hide from EVA be over an island owned by Cassell?”

“Not everyone at Cassell agrees with what I’m doing. Not everyone at the Secret Party agrees. But Chisei, you agreed. You wanted the violence to stop! We’re still working on a replacement serum for Bondarev and Herzog’s recipe. We have to keep that research protected, even from the Secret Party and Cassell.”

“That’s all?” Chisei asked.

“Yes, that’s all.” Meixiu sighed.

“So my next question... What are you going to do when these over-threshold hybrids hear the next dragon heartbeat? They will immediately fall away to the dragon side in large numbers. Aren’t we providing an army for the King of Sky and Wind?”

“I have a contingency. We’re continually refining EX-Imperium, the voice of the Dark King. No deadpool can resist it. They’ll have no choice but to stand down once it’s unleashed. The runic copy we use for the E3 exam to awaken dragonblood is too weak to be effective, but we’re getting closer to an exact copy that can be used as a suppressor.”

Chisei was silent for a long time. Meixiu closed her eyes and let the breeze caress her face and the sound of the water lapping on the rocks soothe her nerves.

“Where are you getting the fetal blood necessary for the serum if not from a deadpool spawning tank?”

Meixiu’s shoulders sagged. “Stop asking me that. I can’t tell you. I’m working on a replacement. When I succeed, you’ll be the first to know. The first.”

She finally lifted her eyes to look at him. His soft sad gaze hurt her deeper than the hard edge. Meixiu knew he wouldn’t approve of what she was doing. She never said there wasn’t a spawning pool... just that it wasn’t under Cassell.

“I just don’t want us to end up on the opposite side of this war. I can feel it. You’re straying dangerously close to the edge.” He murmured.

“I was born for this.”

His eyebrows quirked upward, questioning.

“There was a prophecy about me.” She explained. “That I would stand on the threshold between the world of man and the world of dragons.”

“Who said this prophecy?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Chisei chuckled and looked away out over the water. “Of course not.”

She rocked on her heels. “So you’re right. I’m on the edge. I’ll stay on the edge. It’s nerve-wracking. And I’m sorry.” She followed his gaze. “By the way, you put that coat on in the heat of summer. You look like a vampire.”

The wind toyed with the edges of his black windbreaker, revealing the Ukiyo-E pattern. “I felt like it was appropriate. I’m not part of the Hydra any more, but this felt too much like a mission for me to resist.”

“But you don’t have Spider Fang with you.”

“I don’t.”

“What were you planning to do without a weapon?”

Chisei sighed deeply. “Given what I knew, I had to come talk to you.”

Meixiu huffed with laughter. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

“I had you going for a second there though, right?”

“You’re a punk!” She turned, giving him a playful punch in the arm. She turned around and leaned her back against the ropes. “Come to dinner. Please?”

“I cannot.” He put his dark glasses back on. “Give my regards to your husband.”

He turned and began to walk away. Meixiu watched his figure grow smaller and smaller, shrinking down to a tiny dot before getting swallowed up by the waves of heat rising up from the Chicago asphalt. She folded her hands in front of her.

She lowered her eyes. She wished she could tell him everything. He’d come very close to the truth. But the truth was unimaginable.

The questions he’d asked... had she fallen to the dragon side? Was she a deadpool, manipulated by dragons without knowing it?

“Meixiu...”

She startled and turned. “Zihang! You followed me?” She stomped her foot. “Oh... why can’t you trust me for one second?”

He was standing in a simple button down shirt and jeans. A gym bag was slung across his back. It looked like he was just going to the tennis court, but what was in the bag was his swords. “I trust you. It’s him...”

“You really are jealous...” Her voice trailed off. “Did he see you?”

“Eventually.” Zihang’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Ugh.” She folded her arms and looked away, annoyed at his protective interference. “I did want him to come to dinner and you go and pull that stunt...”

“You were really scared for a reason. Despite his claims of neutrality, he still has a strong sense of his view of right and wrong and has a hard time tolerating anything he views as wrong.” He offered her his hand. “Scale of 1 to 10... how close was he to the truth?”

Meixiu chewed her lip. “I’m not going to answer that...” She took his hand. “Stop asking questions.”

“Alright.” He rubbed his chin with his free hand. “Your lack of an answer says enough.”

They walked side by side for a moment.

She was the one who broke the silence. “He wasn’t unarmed... was he?”

“He was.” Zihang’s eyes shifted upward far into the distant tall buildings.

On the top of one of them, a sniper had lain in wait. It wasn’t hard to find her and her partner. Meixiu insisted on coming alone and probably had assured Chisei that she would. So they weren’t expecting his swift and brutal attack and Chisei didn’t have a back up. With their weapon neatly sliced in half, he’d discovered the philosopher stone and mercury laced ammunition and confiscated it.

From one former executive department agent to another, he understood Chisei’s urge to take matters into his own hands that made her visit to him inherently dangerous.

Meixiu’s feelings were too important for him to openly interfere. That made things difficult. Their bond was precious to both of them, no matter how unbalanced and uneasy it was. That was something he understood all too well.

His mind drifted back to Xia Mi and he forced it away.

So she would still be friends with him. He would still feel for her. But there would always been a blade within his sleeve.

Zihang would be her shield from it.

#Dragon Raja #Chu Zihang #Johann Chu #Chisei Gen #Yuan Zhisheng

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c-atm · 4 years ago

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“So,” Heartberry started, “anyone has an idea of how to take this thing down cause I’m not crazy about being resprayed.” she leaned back with her legs crossed, sitting on Mister’s lap.

“We can’t ambush it, the thing always on guard, despite having one eye, ” Mister commented as he slumped in their recliner a little, “resilient thing too, just bounce everything off of that plum-colored skin of theirs.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Never faced anything so docile but, oh so annoying.” Witchy groaned, throwing her hands up in agitation, before folding her arms over her breast, pouting with puffed blush crossed cheeks and steady brows.

The subject, how to take care of a demon who, despite being non-violent, leaves its victims comatose and foul-smelling.

So very foul-smelling.

They didn't know what it wanted. What's its purpose was, or if it even had one? Furthermore, it wouldn't tell them what it wanted...That or it couldn't.

There wasn't a mouth on its balloon-like, limbless single-eyed body, an eye that changes colors and showed a whole lot of expression based on its emotions.

It should have been an easy kill, but it did have a high payout for its defeat, for a good reason too.

It has escaped the six of them three times so far. Leaving them all unconscious and reeking. Not even Amy was a fan of the smell. So much so that she chose to abandon the hunt.

Three nights of undertaking this task.

Three nights of failing the task.

Three nights of smelling like literal defeat.

Defeat took a ninety-minute bath and shower to scrub off and put everyone on edge, even after a night of sleep.

None more than the resident witch.

She woke with her eyes glowed with prideful anger, even as Dapper pampered her a bit, massaging her shoulders and fixing his lady her favorite breakfast, which she did appreciate but was too in her pride to convey it. Still, for the sake of the morning, he let it be.

The afternoon though, things hit their boiling point when they began to plan for their next attempt.

"I think I might have an answer," Dapper came in with a book in his hand. He laid it open to a page with the despicable eggplant looking demon. "Our target defense is related to its focus. The more alert it is, the more invulnerable it is, and believe it or not, it's a bit of a punk...so it's always on alert. Though, you can't really blame it. It's a rare demon and a big payday."

"Ok, so how do we take care of it," Witchy asked with a glare.

"We have to distract it," Dapper announced with a smirk. "And what is its weakness, you ask." with a smirk, he pointed at a simple two-line description, which the three read.

"AHHH HAHAHA!" Mister threw his head back. "Ohh, well girls, looks like this is a job for you two."

Heartberry shook her head, "I knew it was looking at me strangely...Stop laughing." Her nostrils flared. "So...That's its weakness, so how do we exploit it."

"Photoshoot? Modeling? Music video!?" Mister chuckled, getting a headlock from his Connie.

"You know what? Fine." Witchy said coolly, getting off the couch and taking HB's hand and leading her out the room. "Going to pick up Amy, and we'll see you two in a couple of hours at that demon's base."

"My lady?"

He was answered with a slam of the front door, leaving the 'brothers' looking worried.

Two hours later, Dapper and Mister were waiting in the now abandoned apartment complex, waiting for their team.

"So what'd you think they came up with?" Mister asked, leaning back on a wall, eyes closed and hand in his pockets.

Dapper shrugged, looking a bit crushed." My lady is so damn prideful. Just hope she's not going to do something..Foolish for a win."

"She wouldn't be a 'Connie' if she took it on the chin, definitely if she feels she could win."

"Sis, stubborn as well, hmm?"

"Her most alluring trait." Mister smirked, opening his eyes and turning his head left, "speaking of alluring...Stars and Diamonds." He swooned.

Dapper looked over the same direction as Mister and arched an eye.

Heartberry, Amethyst, and the duo of Sarah and Biddy strutting towards them.

Dressed in flashy, flirty idol outfits.

Mister whistled as they walked up.

"Keep your eyes and tongue in your head, Mister," Heartberry teased as Mister playfully wrapped her loose plaid tie over his finger. "Schoolgirl style?"

"Yup, figured since it has a thing for the female form, we decided we'd appease its base emotions."

"I see devious." Mister flirted, "So..are you naughty or nice?"

"I'll show you later alone." She grinned, giving him a peck.

"Ummm-"

"Yes...Always." The purple demoness answered Sarah's and Biddy's question before they could ask.

"Quite the plan you came up with, ladies," Dapper smirked.

"It was actually trailblazer's suggestion." Sarah started." Alicia would have joined, but she was needed at the church."

"How did you guys get roped into this?" The demon Steven questioned.

"I was promised a piece of the reward and amusement." Biddy announced, plainly, " so far, I am amused."

"Same." Sarah nodded affirmatively.

"Dapper." HB called, getting the demon's attention, "around the corner."

Dapper didn't need any more than that as she morphed into a shadow, rushing to his lady's side.

He found her standing behind the corner, a cloak over her.

"My lady?"

Witchy leaped, red-face as Dapper formed himself from the darkness. "The hell, Steven. Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

"Sorry." The half-demon offered, looking at his lady, " So? What are you doing over here?"

"Attempting to preserve my pride." She mumbled, "this is so stupid." She rubbed her temples with a groan before slamming her first to the wall.

"I really don't get why you are so angry, My lady?"

"I don't like to lose."

"I know." He chuckled

"This demon beat me four times."

"Four? We only confronted it three times."

"I'm not talking just in battle!" She growled." I mean …" Witchy clenched her fist. " You know what, trash the plan."

"This was your idea!" Shocks evident in Dapper's voice.

"I'm retracting it then!"

"Why? It's a good plan!"

"Why? I'm not some...Cosplaying, dallying, cutesy, pop-idol, centerfold!!" The fiery witch roared upwards,

"I'm a demon hunter! A witch! A warrior! A CONNIE MAHESWARAN!!" She continued, a flare of outrage literally coming from her mouth.

"Spitting fire, My lady."

He received a smoke conjuring snort as a response before she turned her back to him, her cheeky face pout returning, even as he interlaced his fingers around her stomach and pulled her to his chest, though it slipped a bit when she felt the rumble of his best from him chuckle on her back.

"Don't you think you're a bit too proud?"

"No! not at all!" She argued. "This thing has made a mockery of us. I mean, come on. Look what we've been subjected to." She groaned, leaning back into him. "Three nights of foul-smelling defeats from this one-eyed demon eggplant that won the genetic lottery in terms of defense and attentiveness, whose weakness is the 'allure of the fairer sex.' How am I supposed to feel knowing that this was the thing that beat me...Beat us."

"It hasn't beaten us," Dapper looked at his flame. "We're still here, ready to do what we do best."

"But what we do best won't work, as long as it's on guard, we can't kill it, and all we have to do is get sprayed and humiliated again." Witchy retorted, "even against the likes of Stevonnie and Steven squared. It just repels everything before blowing us away in a noxious fume." The witch sighed in chagrin." And to cater to its taste...A demon's taste...How disgraceful."

"That's kind of offensive, Connie," Dapper stated, slightly crossed. "I'm half-demon, you know."

The witch's face flushed, shamed at her callousness. "Sorry, my dapper devil. I didn't mean it like that." She gave him a quick peck. "It's just this whole 'honeypot' plan. It's humiliating."

Sometimes it's a requirement." Dapper joked yet spoke truthfully, "you've been at this job long enough to know that, and you used you womanly wiles before, so why is this so different?"

"Because it might not work, and I don't want to look bad in front of you again, " Witchy admitted looking down. "Especially against this do nothing demon, who can't attack more than letting out a nauseating gas."

Dapper kissed her crown gently, "My beautiful, prideful flame. You really let this plant sink its roots into you." Dapper laughed a bit before kissing her temple.

"How are you laughing? How can you find even the most smidge of humor out of this situation?"

"The fact that this plant isn't threatening the populace helps." The demon admitted, "Annoying them to the point of abandoning their home for the time, but at least they're unharmed."

"True, it's more menace than monster, but that makes it all the more shameful." The witch complained, "we've battled true nightmares and won without breaking a sweat, and yet the thing that gave us trouble can't even speak! It's frustrating!"

"Irony at its finest." Dapper jest.

"I want to win." Witchy declared. " I want to prevail over this creature; I have to..."determination in her voice.

"Well, then. We should join the others. We're holding the op-"

Dapper words fell short as Witchy's lips met his in an appreciative kiss. He was only slightly shocked for a moment before reciprocating. It all lasted a tongue-twisting, cheek caressing, hip holding, lip popping seven seconds before breaking off with a gentle -Chu-.

Dapper, a bit dizzy, turned upwards and breathed out a small heart-shaped fume. "Talk about your hot kisses."

"Pfft!" Witchy snorted before laughing into his chest. Holding him by the shoulder blades as he did. "Thank you," She whispered, adoring.

"For what?"

"Letting me vent, without judgment." She reached up, kissing his left cheek, "For making my favorite breakfast and massaging my shoulders." She kissed his right, "for dealing with my attitude in stride.

"It's no problem, My lady." He soothed, "I know your irritation comes from your convictions, your need never to let your people down." He kissed her forehead, "one of your most attractive qualities."

"Still."

"Still nothing. You are fine, not like you did anything insulting." He grinned, "You were just a sulky little witch."

"And impulsive." She sighed, " whatever. It is what it is." Witchy surrendered as she walked out of his grasp, peeling off her cloak and making Dapper jaw drop.

She was wearing a dark blue collared crop top with purple plaid trim around the hem and collared with a loose-fitting blue and purple stripe tie, a pair of high thighs navy suspender shorts, some dark purple knee-highs, and black collared booties. Every curve that she hid was on full display, and Dapper was burning the visage in his mind forever.

Reaching to her back left pocket, she pulled out a hair clip shaped like one of Dapper's broaches as well as a tube lip gloss.

"Mind helping me?" She tossed him the tube before clipping her hair in a left side ponytail. Dapper nodded before taking Witchy chin in his left hand and slowly stroked the gloss across pressed the lips, giving them a shimmer. "Hmm, might have given you too much."

Before the witch could complain, her partner gave her a tingling, suckling upon the brims of her mouth.

It was sweet, swift, and soothing, precisely what his lady needed as he felt her relax under his kiss.

"Better?" He asked, reapplying the gloss again, getting a breath of calmness and appreciation.

"Yeah." She felt herself grinning, " you could have asked for a kiss, though."

"True, but kissing 'a idol' off guard was too good to pass." He gave her a playful and wolfish grin, making her blush and push him away.

"Gods no. I'm no idol."

"You're my idol." He whispered, pressing his head to hers.

Witchy pursed her mouth, pouting a bit." Well. I guess that's fine…" she gave him a quick peck. "but only yours."

"Does that mean there is a chance I'd get to see you in this outfit again?"

"I'm more than likely going to end up burning this attire once we are done." She shrugged, teasing before backing away, turning, and walking towards the corner. "Come on, I'm sure the others are impatient and probably starting to head up to the roof."

"Of course," Dapper said, staring at his lady's confident stride before following behind her; idolizing the prideful fiery witch and all her perfect imperfection, as he always did.

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years ago

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What is the Witcher about?? I've seen so many posts and gifs about it but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was about? Apart from set in the past? And magic? I have absolutely no idea???

Omg this place is a mess, you're gonna love it 💖

Short answer: A himbo, his bard, a witch, and a little magical girl go about trying to save their society and they're all just so emotionally stunted and fight like little demons of wrath.

Long answer:

Witchers are humans who have been genetically mutated through dangerous 'trials' (as they are called in the canon) to be the apex predator of their world and trained to fight from an early age and have specialized magical abilities but nothing extensive. These witchers roam around 'the continent' (what they call their world) going from kingdom to kingdom killing monsters for a bounty and generally just being pretty badass. Think the Hunters of Supernatural but in medieval fantasy, most humans are scared of them therefore prejudiced af, and there's no secrecy aspect (and they get paid).

Enter Geralt of Rivia (our main white haired witcher beefcake). He got EXTRA trials bc he was special (can't say why bc spoilers) and he is big on ethics and Being Alone™.

Enter Jaskier. The beefy, if not kinda flighty, bard who follows Geralt and tries to repair his reputation with catchy songs and tales of his heroics. They become homies (and maybe more 👀 Netflix plz?).

Enter Yennefer. The baddest bitch you will ever meet. She's got magic and she's not afraid to use it and she exudes some hardcore dom energy. I want to be her. Her character arc is also something I just love to death and will fight people over.

Enter Cirilla (Ciri). A princess with some family secrets and a tough road before her laid out by destiny. She's a badass feral baby and we love her. In the games she's older but I haven't played them so I can't really speak on them.

The series so far follows Geralt through meeting these other characters and how he fights his destiny (and very clear tendency to be the Mom Friend™). There's impending war, magic, dragons, fucking bitchin fight scenes, a 'chosen child', and some BIG found family vibes.

I talk about how pretty Mr. Cavill is in that wig, covered in fake blood and dirt a lot (🤤), but the female characters are really what drew me into this show. Not only are they written with emotions and flaws and arent reduced to Mary Sue throw aways, and they are given their own arc in some instances, but they are treated as just as much if a threat in battle and I live for it.

So yeah! If anyone has more to add please do!

#the witcher #regan answers #keeping spoilers out of this was hard for me #lmao #also i unsuccessfully tried to leave out the thirst

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makiruz · 4 years ago

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So I’m trying to close the literally hundreds of tabs I have open, and I bump into Stargate crossovers, notably a Stargate/Avatar crossover. This reminds me Stargate is a goldmine of crossovers because you just have to put a Stargate in your favorite fictional universe and there you go! And SG-1′s Clarke’s 3rd Law approach means that any magical shit fits in their universe.

Now, since I’m still in the RWBY hyperfixation train; I obviously thinking how easy and interesting a RWBY/Stargate is.

First off, they exist; here’s all of them in FF.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/Stargate-SG-1_and_RWBY_Crossovers/68/10833/

They’re all good. And there’s actually 3 types: the classic approach, SGC types a random address and it’s Remnant; the Trane7 approach (later adopted by TheLongVersion2), Remnant makes their own Stargate program and inevitably bumps into Earth; and the How-not-to-do-something approach, go full AU, I actually dig this fic, I’m still reading it because it’s long, but it’s very interesting, in short the Battle of Beacon happened but Beacon itself didn’t fall and Ozpin didn’t die; and Team JNPR fell into a Stargate and got picked up by SGC and 2 years later Team RWBY finds them, then shit happens.

I actually have a few ideas inspired by this fic; the initial set up is basically the same, Team JNPR gets stranded on the wrong side of a Stargate, get taken by SGC and join them because they want to help stop the Goa’uld, and then 2 years later Team RWBY figures out the Stargate, this time with the address of Remnant; difference is that Ozpin did die and he reincarnated into Oscar. Now this is inspired by this AU: https://xstonehill.tumblr.com/post/183196875183/rosegarden-au-a-different-happy-ending; so Oscar is passing himself as a prodigy and going to Heaven Academy 2 years early, just like Ruby (I suspect Ozpin did the same); and you know continuing the fight against Salem and stuff. Now as presented by hyperfixation-hideout in their 2 long-ass videos the Merge goes both ways and Oscar is a more open, more honest person than Ozpin, so I declare that he ended up telling his team everything (it was an impromptu bonding session), like everything, they’re probably the only people outside of Salem’s group who know she’s immortal, and the first thing Oscar does after reuniting with Ozpin’s group is telling them about Salem’s immortality.

Anyway in Not What You Expected Jaune says that the Grimm are nothing compared to the Goa’uld, but I’m not so sure, Salem has actual magic AND she is unkillable; of course Jaune doesn’t know that. In any case Remnant and Earth form an alliance to collaborate, and fight the Goa’uld and the Grimm (and Salem once people realize she’s a problem).

You know, now I think about it; however Remnant and Earth came in contact doesn’t matter as much as I’d thought. In all cases they form an alliance, scientists back on Earth loose their minds at Aura and Semblances and they will figure out how the hell that works; Faunus are less interesting, but genetic testing will happen to understand how they work and how came to be (”God made you” is not good enough, in our experience Gods are fakers); Dust will be analyzed and potential exchanges are set up. And of course everyone in Remnant will be more than happy to help fight evil parasites taking over the Galaxy (everyone except Ozpin who has other priorities).

Anyway, the story I would probably write is that SCG gets to Remnant’s address; Teal’c notes that the System Lords warn about this planet (one fic says it’s monsters of the dark of the soul, so maybe something like that “Here be Dragons” and shit), but they get to Remnant and they’re attacked by Grimm and rescued by hunters, let’s say Team JNPR to spice things up, and they get taken to Ozpin (questions are asked, why the principal of a school is like world leader); then discussions happen, questions about Aura and Dust and Grimm and that girl has rabbit ears are asked, and eventually an alliance is settled, technology and resources are to be exchanged, and Remnant will help Earth fight evil alien conquerors.

Now the interesting thing is that Ozpin is mysterious; I mean, he’s always mysterious, but when the discussion turns to the Goa’uld you get the feeling he knows something. Well, I gotta notice that Ozpin knows the Grimm have a master, but the public doesn’t and neither does SCG, so he’s mysterious on that regard (Jack doesn’t trust him) but he’s more mysterious, and if you’re thinking “Ozpin has been around for ever, maybe he’s met the Goa’uld before” your are absolutely right. Okay, this is the idea I have: the Goa’uld first came to Remnant during the time where Ozgiliath (Ozma 2.0) and Salem were together pretending to be gods; so we get a group of fake gods going against 2 fake gods with actual magical powers (and one of them is actually unkillable), Salem and Ozgiliath kick the Goa’uld butts and they run away (I imagine monsters who are attracted to negative feelings and people who are being slaved don’t make a good combination). So Ozpin knows the Goa’uld and maybe has a personal problem with some of them *coughBa’alcough*, but he’s not gonna tell anyone that (certainly not the part about pretending to be a god to people fighting people pretending to be gods).

Next, have you considered there’s parallels between Oz and the Goa’uld? First, aside from that little stint with Salem, we know Oz has been worshiped in the past, you know the Infinite Man story; and he is one entity moving from host to host. I am firm in the belief that Oz is nothing like the Goa’uld, but Ozpin is not so much; you know that some of his hosts have called him a parasite, he himself has wondered if he is in fact a parasite; god, the backstory I give to Ozpin presents him as having been radically altered by becoming a host of the Oz entity, that’s perfect for him to be “Am I me or am I Oz? Did I became Oz or did Oz replaced me? Who am I?” Ba’al is gonna have such a good time taunting Ozpin about this. I’ve decided Ba’al was in Remnant before and he remembers Ozgiliath, when he meets Ozpin he’s like “It’s really you Ozma, you have a new host too”; and when Oscar comes around it’s gonna be even worse because Oscar is afraid of ceasing to exist due to the Merge (I love Ba’al so much).

Another thing that is definitively happening is that Oscar (or Ozpin, but it’s funnier with Oscar) is gonna beat up a Goa’uld in front of their entire following, and the following is gonna be like “Our God has been defeated by this other god*, he must worship him now” and Ozpin in Oscar’s head is gonna be like “Not Again!”

*By the time this happens word has spread that Oz is a God, because he was pretending to be one, way back when.

So I don’t have a full plot yet, but so far I got that not too long after an alliance between Earth and Remnant is established; SGC looses contact with Remnant, about one year later Atlas reestablishes contact (Ironwood took the Stargate to Atlas) and it’s like “everything’s gone wrong! Beacon has fallen, Ozpin is dead, the Grimm are out of control. Help please”; and I don’t know what season of SG1 would be, so I don’t know if SCG would be “we’ll try but we’re in crisis” or “we’re in crisis, we really can’t give much help right now” (SGC is always in crisis), either way SG-1 is gonna end up in Remnant to meet Team Qrow. I want SG-1 to meet Oscar so much, because people having some kind of telepathic ability that gives them powers is one thing, reincarnation is another; Jack is gonna deny it, Sam and Daniel are gonna ask questions, and Teal’c is gonna assume he’s like the Tok’ra.

Also I’m considering Salem allying herself with the Goa’uld. I like to think she’d use them to wreck havoc; and as previously mentioned, she’s actually immortal and has magic; she can probably appear as a more powerful goddess and it’s better to be on her good side (she did definitively killed one or two System Lords); this could cause problems if the people start worshiping her above their System Lords, but we’ll see how things play out. Also I like to think that when faced with whoever, she’s like “You? A God? I’ve fought the Gods, you’re no god” (Ozpin has a similar interaction with Ba’al, where Ba’al calls him a god and Ozpin is like “I’m not a god, and neither are you. You’re just a parasite with delusions of grandeur”)

I’m fairly sure this is leading to a big ass fight in the sky over Remnant; the Gods, probably some kind of ascended being, play a part (and they’re jerks).

Oh and one more thing, humanity 1.0 are probably Ancients, which is how they can use magic; humanity 2.0 I’m not sure where it come from, but I could see them being Earth humans, although I’d have to check the timeline to the Goa’uld being on Remnant (I mean, they can come twice)

#RWBY #Stargate #Stargate SG1 #xover #my writing #fanfic

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