#lately there have also been more solar storms and it’s supposed to continue for a few years

[ulmus-spellook]

Me on Saturday: looking up info for timing in the closest city “I know I won’t be able to see the total eclipse from my part of the country, but I could at least see a partial one!”

Me on Sunday: it’s raining outside and it looks like the kind of rain that lasts more than 24 hours “oh no.”

Me on Monday: I look outside around noon, it’s cloudy out and when I opened my weather app it said it would start raining soon *sigh* “the clouds have once again prevented me from witnessing a cool sky event” we really need this rain though. It would have been nice if it came a few days sooner! There would be less fire and the sky could be clearer for the eclipse

So today I’m hearing people online talking about how cool the eclipse was and just being like: “I’m gonna be honest. I accidentally slept through the last partial (solar) eclipse and I couldn’t even see this partial solar eclipse if I was trying”

I know I’ve seen lunar eclipses though, my insomnia was at least useful there

[itswildwinters]

Hello lovelies and welcome to my October 2020 fic recs. These are the fics that I read these last few months. The main pairing is Louis Tomlinson/Harry Styles.

This is also an appreciation post to all writers out there. Thank you for contributing so much to the fandom, for making all these incredible pieces of work for us all to read!

I’m wishing you all a happy Halloween in advance!

If you check out any of those incredible fics below, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments to show your appreciation!

Enjoy!

From What I’ve Tasted of Desire by @evilovesyou 

When Louis moves to the small Scottish town of Fortrose to spend some time with his father, he thinks he's come to terms with the fact that the next two years of his life will be rainy and dull. That changes when he meets the ever-elusive Harry Styles in his Biology class and he makes it his goal to find out the big secret surrounding him and his family. Louis unexpectedly finds himself in the eye of a storm of secrecy, age-old myths, friendship and romance.

Twilight AU / Vampires / Werewolves / Slow Burn / Highschool & College AU

eyes off you by @soldouthaz

“Just promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to keep us all safe while we’re in there,” Liam says.

Through the crack in the door, Louis can just barely make out the broad curve of Harry’s back, the slope of his curls as they tumble down all sleep-soft and lazy, and the sharp twist of his arm - all leading down to where he’s got his pointer and middle finger crossed over each other behind his back.

“I promise,” he tells Liam firmly, “I promise.”

--

or; a charlie’s angels inspired fic where louis is the brains, harry is the charm, liam is the muscle, and niall drives the getaway car - and zayn is there, too. sometimes.

Action / Pining / Assassins (kill bad people)

Walls by Travis_Crux 

Following his line of sight, he frowned and shook his head, "What's wrong?"

"Wasn't your timer on your ring finger?" Liam asked, at that the Alpha immediately swapped the tumbler and looked down at his finger which sported a string of tiny blue flowers on the underside of his ring finger.

The two of them looked at one another.

"You could've touched nearly fifty people by the time you grew delirious," Liam advocated, always the voice of reason. "Comrades, nurses, doctors."

Sighing, he turned away and continued drinking the water. Literally, the only fucking thing remaining in the middle of a fucking war.

Or

Harry has his soulmate timer stuck at zero from the beginning of time but suddenly the fates show mercy and a lovely forget-me-not takes the place of his timer. In between finding his soulmate in a war camp and solving the puzzle of the charismatic doctor who is treating him, all he can hope for is to live.

ABO / World War I / Soulmates / Angst / Hurt-Comfort

works like a charm by @falsegoodnight

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

Harry Potter Setting / Porn With Plot / Enemies to Lovers

(quiet like a fight) fingers laced together by @letthemkissyou

It’s a thin hope, frail and as thin as the silver strands of a spider web, desperate in the way Louis keeps clinging onto it even when he’s already expecting and preparing for the worst. Maybe one day, he’ll have a home, a place where he can feel safe and sound, tucked away safely from the world that has the tendency to treat him horribly and then even worse, that maybe there will be someone in his life who cares for him, even if in the smallest of ways, and does not just use him for whatever they tend to need at the moment.

Or, the one where Harry is gifted a hybrid and it's a whole new world for the both of them.

Hybrid Louis / Past Abuse / Fluff / Angst 

We’ll Cast Some Light (You’ll Be Alright) by fondleeds 

There’s tense silence, the whole room completely hushed. The other teams on surrounding tables look between each other. Then, Louis pushes himself away from the table noisily, chair scraping. His face is angered and crumpled, red at the ears. The door slams behind him as he rushes out. The surrounding teams look at Harry simultaneously.

“God, Simon is going to kill us if we don’t die on this mission first,” Niall moans into his hands.

-

There’s a standard procedure for this. Scan, track, kill. But with a solar eclipse and a Greater Demon with unfinished business looming, the path to keeping England safe from harm becomes complicated and shadowed by mystery and secrets. For Harry and his team, times have never been harder, especially when a few old friends turned foes show up. Harry is left with just over forty days to overcome the hurdle of tension between them and reconcile their past, and figure out just what Louis is hiding from him before it’s too late.

Demons / Enemies to Lovers / Violence / Angst / Fluff / Demon Hunters / Smut

Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse

“We have to get out of here, outside,” Harry whispered, turning his hand in Louis’s grip to hold on and pull them both to their feet. “And how do we fucking do that?” Louis hissed, carefully rising and pulling Harry to his feet before Harry could do it. His gaze darted to the front then back of the arena. “None of the doors are where they’re supposed to be.” “What?” Harry looked around again too, couldn’t see any doors, only knew that they must be there, somewhere. “How do you know?” Confusion slid over Louis's features. “Because we’ve been here before, Haz. It’s the O2.” The show. It must be the first night of their tour. They were too late; they were out of time.

Louis is cursed after a night out with the lads and the five have just three days to figure out what happened and how to break it before Harry and Louis both lose their sanity and maybe something more. Louis can hear everything Harry thinks and Harry isn’t sure he can keep his feelings for Louis a secret from his own mind.

Ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a lot of Harry and Louis alone together, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.

Friends to Lovers / Fluff / Angst / Action / Adventure / Magical Realism / Hurt-Comfort / Slow Burn

Soaked In The Blood Of Angels by @crazyupsetter

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

Explicit Sexual Content / Vampires / Incubus / Dubious Consent / Blood / Violence

The Compulsion to Find Love by Toomanytears

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

ABO / Omega Louis / Alpha Harry / Worldbuilding / Slow Burn / Fluff / Angst

Just a bit of work by missyoutoosweetscheeks

It was quite painfully pathetic, really. Twenty five, stable job, stable flat, stable mind (well, quite), a painfully non-existent love life with an even more painfully intact virginity.

Marcel didn't think his life was going to get better with his painfully aparent sociopathic tendencies to block anyone who showed interest in him.

Until, of course, he became Louis Tomlinson's next prey.

OR

In which Marcel is a virgin, and becomes his office's amorous co-worker's next big conquest.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Office Sex / Dubious Consent / Porn Without Plot 

Fuck U Betta by @jacaranda-bloom

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

Porn Without Plot / Light BDSM / Top Harry / Bottom Louis

push you out, pull you back in by @behisoneandonly

Harry grips his head in his hands helplessly, yanking the base of his dark curls and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the strands of his hair.

“Hey, hey,” says the petite stranger in front of him, quickly standing up. “Stop, you’re hurting yourself.”

–

Or Harry hates feeling vulnerable. Louis is set on breaking through his tough facade.

College/University AU / medical student Harry / Fashion student Louis / Strangers to Lovers / Pining / fluff / slight angst / Hut-Comfort / Anger Management

might we be stardust stories by ryanreynolds

"It was easier being at war."

In which werewolves and vampires have been fighting each other for a century, and Harry and Louis' marriage is what's gonna bring peace to the realm. Hopefully.

Werewolves / Vampires / Arranged Marriage / Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Pining / Fantasy

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?” “Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?”

(Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

ABO / Fake-Pretend Relationship

until this blood runs cold by @soldouthaz

In a town as small as Louis’, everybody knows everybody and gossip spreads faster than the wildfires that rage on just outside their backdoors in the sweltering heat of summer. When something happens here everyone knows about it within seconds. Neighbors call neighbors and notes are left on doorsteps, old telephone lines ringing until there isn’t a single person who is left in the unknown.

So it’s definitely hot gossip when a vampire moves in across the street from him, the very same one who’s just become Louis’ boss.

Vampire Harry / Frottage / Blood Drinking

call you mine by @falsegoodnight

“I have a request.”

That’s what Louis Tomlinson says to Harry when he opens the front door a bit too aggressively. The latter feels justified after a round of annoyingly incessant knocking that was much too loud in the drowsy sludge of early Saturday morning.

“Zayn’s asleep,” is Harry’s tired, hoarse reply, irritation prickling at his skin. Less than a minute ago he was in bed, feeling perfectly content sprawled out on the mattress with the chilled air from the fan cool against his bare skin. And now he’s leaning up against the wooden door frame in nothing but his briefs because Zayn’s best mate decided that showing up unannounced at seven in the fucking morning was a brilliant idea.

“I’m not here for him,” says Louis curtly.

-

Or, Louis’ curious about how it feels to be bitten. Harry’s going to need more than just one bite.

Plot What Porn / Vampire Harry / Bottom Louis

your biggest fan by @soldouthaz​

Just like everyone else, Louis has a few habits that he can’t seem to break. Guilty pleasures, rather. His nails are perpetually short because he can’t quit biting them, the bottom of his shoes scuffed from tapping his foot constantly. Sometimes his leg gets a cramp from bouncing it so often underneath his desk. That isn't too bad, he reckons, just some average teenage coping mechanisms.

And also, occasionally, minor instances of theft.

Top Harry / Bottom Louis / Porn What Plot / Nerd Louis / Jock Harry

give me love by @falsegoodnight​ & @soldouthaz​

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

-

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

ABO / Alpha Harry / Omega Louis / Bottom Louis / Past Relationship Trauma / Slow Burn / Angst / Fluff

The Stars Look Very Different Today by @kingsofeverything​

For Harry Styles, child genius turned glorified spaceship mechanic, rescuing lost or broken down ships is a fairly common occurrence.

There’s nothing common about his latest mission, the ship, or that ship’s captain.

The last thing he expects to find in a distant galaxy is the one thing he’s been missing on Earth.

Space / Time-Travel / Science Fiction & Fantasy / Enemies to Lovers

The cat is out of the bag by 28sunflowers

Harry somehow gets himself stuck as a black cat on Halloween and needs help from Louis to change back into his human form.

The problem is: Louis doesn’t even know witches exist, much less that Harry is one. And there’s also the fact he thinks Harry is ghosting him after they had sex for the first time.

So the situations isn’t ideal. But it’s okay. Harry will figure something out.

Light angst / Witch Harry / Potions Accident / Fluff and Humour 

[atomiccryptid]

Oh mars rovers are cool! I don't know much about them except for that they sent a new one out lately, right?

glad you asked. so,

The first mars rover (technically) was on board the Mars 2 mission from the soviet union. of course, mars 2 crashed and burned becsuse of a messed up entry angle and the landing systems failing to work (probably, the exact cause of mission failure is unknown) and the rover never deployed. Mars 2 was the first man-made object on mars and it was also the first man-made crater on mars.

Mars 3 (mars 2's twin mission) also had a rover. That mission as techically a success, because it transmitted an image back to earth:

this is the worst picture i have ever seen. i am made of salt right now. i can rant for half an hour about how much this picture sucks. the soviet union counted this mission as a success. the lander stopped functioning 70-110 seconds later and the rover was never deployed. "You can clearly see the horizen and the landmasses" shut up that is literally tv static. this picture activates my fight or flight response but its just rage.

Mars 6 was the next lander, but like all other soviet union landers it crashed & burned. it was 1 of 4 mars missions that the soviet union sent during the 1973 mars window. of the other 3, 2 missed mars completely and failed to enter orbit. the last one (an orbiter) entered orbit successfully, then stopped working for seemingly no reason i think 9 days later.

After that amazing show of failure on the soviet union's part, Nasa sent out Viking 1 and Viking 2. their purpose was to test for signs of former life on mars. Viking one had 3 negative and one positive test, and Viking 2 had 2 negative and 2 positive. Viking 2 eventually stopped working after a dust storm (i think) and it's batteries depleting. Viking 1 continued to run for over 6 years (keep in mind this was an intended 90 day mission) until NASA accidentally sent a code that turned the antenna away from Earth and overrode Viking 1's ability to auto-correct. Viking 1 held the record of longest running mars mission until Opportunity shattered that record by about 9 years.

After the Vikings, NASA sent out another lander, this time a rover. The lander was named Pathfinder and the rover was named Sojourner. It had a rather small operation time in, comparison to the incredible run of Viking 1, of only 83 days. However, it had a planned 7 with a possible extension to 30, so the mission was still more than successful.

Also fun fact: the pathfinder lander is the lander that the protagonist of The Martian uses to communicate with NASA!

After that was the Mars Polar Lander, which unfortunately crashed. It lost communication with nasa and it is still lost and unfound to this day. It was supposed to search for water in the southern ice cap but again, it crashed and was lost to history.

Next was Beagle 2, sent by the European Space Agency. It landed safely, but failed to deploy 2 of its solar panels, resulting in the antenna being trapped and the batteries failing to charge fully. It was lost for 11 years, only being found in 2015, by a satalite photographing the entire planet.

After that failure, launched in the same year, was Spirit and Opportunity. Their missions were to determine if it was possible for life to exist on mars. Both of them lived long past their initial 90 sol mission, with spirit getting stuck in a sand trap in 2008 and remaining a stationary rover until 2010, when its batteries failed to charge.

Oppertunity lived from 2003 to 2018, and is the record holder for the longest mars mission at 15 years. This mars rover is as old as me, but that will change soon because I will age but oppy is stuck in time. It was stuck in sand many times but it still perservered, rolling out centimeter by centimeter. In its 15 year opperation time, oppy traveled about 28 miles. Oppy hibernated in mid 2018 due to a dust storm, and was expected to wake up in November. it did not. the mission was called in febuary 2019, and NASA sent the song "I'll be seeing you" as their last transmission.

Next was Pheonix, who was sent by NASA to study Mars's northern pole. It froze over once winter hit. I was supposed to research the history of water on mars. I concluded thay water had been on mars, but its mostly gone now. The ice is also mostly solid carbon dioxide, or dry ice. Also the entire mission cose NASA 420 million dollars and thats funny to me.

After that was Curiosity! Curiosity was, as of two days ago, the only working rover on Mars. Curiosity is studying the geology and the makeup of the rocks on mars. It has also traveled 15 miles, as of Jan 30, 2021.

Last but certainly not least is Perseverance! Percy is the rover who just landed yesterday. Its landing was the most rough one NASA has ever attempted. In fact, they invented a whole new method of landing, involving several cameras pointed directly at the ground to find a safe spot. Percy's job is to study its crater, Jezero Crater, for any signs of past life. Jezero crater is the best bet we have for finding past life because it still has a well-preserved delta from back when it was a lake. Also the lake is from around the same time that life was evolving on Earth.

As a part of its mission, Percy will make little samples from the martian surface and leave them for a return trip to Earth. I dont remember exactly when, but NASA is planning on making a rover that will collect the samples and then go back to a MAV (mars accent vehicle) {yes its the same name is in The Martian} and return the samples to earth so we, on earth, can study the samples and try to determine once and for all if there could have been life on mars.

[kibleedibleedoo]

Hero of your own Fate 2/?

Thorin x reader

Warnings - brief mention of mental illness, slow burn

A/n - sorry it's a long one

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

~Thorin's POV~

It had been a long detour via the Blue mountains which unfortunately had not born any fruit. All Thorin could think about was a hot meal and a place of safety to sleep tonight. He was getting far too old to be a solitary nomad. His fantasising of his next meal led thorin down his third wrong turn of the evening. The shire was full of winding roads that seemed to follow no logical order in their constuction. Thorin could see the house up on a hill, by mahal he probably could hear the company from back in Bree, but he just could not find the right path to get there and the fading like was offering him no favours.

Thorin watched confused as the heavens seemed to rip open as Bagend was aurrounded by a vrief thunder storm and depositing a girl on top of the hill. From this distance it was hard to tell but she certainly wasnt one of his kin and the clothes she was wearing made ger look out of place in this world. Maybe you were a one of a secretive kind, some even more secretive than dwarves that few even knew the existance of. He watched as you settled yourself and entered the hobbit hole. Something deep inside him was drawn to this unfamiliar woman so deep that Thorin was taken by surprise when he knew how to get to that blasted house, to get to you.

~Reader's POV~

That evening was a whirlwind so much seemed to happen in so little time. The quest was explained along with the risks and contracts were handed out to you and the other burglar Bilbo. It took many by surprise when he fainted at the thought of incineration, sure it would be a bad way to go but an instant death was far more preferable than a long drawn out one, the only one not surprised was the leader of our company Thorin oakenshield. He seemed to react to the hobbit with pure annoyance even going so far as to question him on battle experience upon entering poor Bilbo's home. You had no battle experience at least none in hand to hand combat. You cast your mind back to one of your childhood school trips where you were taught how to fire an arrow and a bit of fencing neither of which you were any good at, at the time which gave you little hope for your ability to fight on this quest. You needed training or you would be a liability and you were positive the whole company knew it.

You took the time during Bilbo's recovery to pull Gandalf aside.

"what am i doing here?" you asked rather annoyed with the wizard.

"You offered to help in the café did you not?" he quipped knowing the answer.

"Yes but there is no point me joining if i am only going to be a liability Gandalf" you huffed, you wanted to help you really did but there was no point volunteering for this quest if it was going to end in your demise or the demise of some of the dwarves before the quest is complete.

"You posess talents aside from fighting that will come in useful that I am sure something that those of middle earth lack" the wizard mused. He was almost certainly keeping something to himself about what you could contribute. Before you could respond he continued "I took the liberty of packing supplies for you, some hygiene products from your home but mainly supplies from here for the journey. They are with your pony at the stables" Your eyes grew wide as you realised the wizard had gone through your things.

"You broke into my house!" you exclaimed in a hushed tone trying to stop any of the dwarves from prying, unfortunately you could not seem to shake the handsome one's peircing gaze. "What if my roommate saw you? omg wait what did you see in my stuff!" at this point you were starting to panic, your roommate had always suffered from anxiety and happening upon a strange man riffling through your stuff wasnt exactly something they would take in their stride.

"I was not seen, and magic comes in useful in your realm too" he chucked "the essentials come to me, they seemed nicely organised so I packed the entire bag for you" mentally you were piecing together what you would be carrying. That bag contained your toothbrush, toothpaste, a few wash cloths, deoderant, conditioner, a spare pair of panties, and some everyday makeup items. Okay so no shampoo, you werent exactly sure when you would get the opportunity to wash your hair while trekking across this world but you had heard others try a no-poo style of washing their hair so that must be what you would have to do from now on. "Along with what is already packed here are a new set of clothes to help you fit in better and if you will let me I can exchange and money you have for coin you can use here." You werent sure exactly where he had stored the fresh clothes but he seemed sincere so you handed your bag over to him.

"Dont touch anything else in there, you only have permission to exchange currency" you said in a stern voice "they might not all work here but they are important to me" you finished softly. You took the clothes to a seperate room and closed the door behind you. It was dark but you still had your phone in your pocket so could use the torch for a while. You silently thanked whatever deity was up there that your parents had got you a solar powered power bank for christmas and it was in your bag, where you always kept it, your phone might run out of battery soon but you knew that you would be able to look through your photos whenever you got homesick on this quest. You turned your attention to the clothes, inspecting each item you noticed the outfit looked like something that would have been worn during the 18th century back home. Luckily your roomate was studing fashion history at the local university so you knew where all the fabric was supposed to go. Gandalf had also been nice and provided you with a corset which did up on the front, looking at them you could almost hear your roommate telling you this style was called a 'pair of bodies' and you chuckled knowing that while this outfit might be more practical than what you were wearing it was still going to be a nuisance to put on and wear all the time. You got undressed and threw the shift over your underwear, not ready to give up your modern bra and pants just yet, next you decided you still wanted to wear your leggings. If you were supposed to learn how to ride a horse tomorrow you sure as hell were going to have some fabric between your skin and the saddle plus it would preserve some of your dignity if you fell off and your skirt flew over your head. Time for the corset, the stomacher was rock hard which you thought might provide some protection, against what you werent quite sure of yet, and the corset was surprisingly easy to lace up at the front. The next item you loved, it was a shame modern women's fashion hated them so much but these bags you tied at your waist formed huge pockets which could fit most of the contents of your bag in without anyone being any the wise. The petticoat and skirt followed and a jacket tied the look together. You decided your doc martens would be far better to wear than whatever flimy shoe gandalf had provided so with your outfit complete you returned to the company.

Gandalf sat there smiling with a bag of coins in his hand. You felt you looked slightly ridiculous, especially since your bosom was more pronounced than in your oversized tee.

"Now you look like you belong here" he took a sip of wine and nodded.

"I might look like it but I have still kept some of my modern luxuries" you responded smugly waving your t-shirt a bit. He smirked handing you over the coins and your backpack back. You stuffed the tshirt in with the rest of your stuff and made a mental note to wear it as a pyjama top.

~Thorin's POV~

Y/N had disappeared off into one of the rooms shortly after her argument with gandalf. It seemed like the company had lost both of their burglars within the space of five minutes. Thorin huffed and sat back next to Balin who was always a source of comfort to him even before Erebor fell.

"We do not have time to delay Balin, if we must leave without them then that is what we must do" Thorin sighed, fewer and fewer folk were supporting this mission a band of 13 dwarves and a wizard was hardly a match for a dragon if Smaug still lived.

"I know lad, have faith this is a worthy quest and mahal would not have forsaken us" Balin smiled reassuringly at Thorin. Balin trusted Thorin like he trusted no other, he knew Thorin would give anything for his people and would do everything in his power to provide them with a place of sanctuary. The pair sat in silence for a few moments when Y/N came out of one of the rooms in a different outfit. The dress made her look like one of them, it fitted her so much better than what she had on before and Thorin found himself staring in awe at her.

"it seems she hadnt given up on us afterall" Balin nudged Thorin grabbing his attention

"aye but does a woman belong on this quest" Thorin sighed "she looks weaker than Dis and we wouldnt allow her to join us"

"she will be fine" Balin was puzzled by Thorin's sudden change in attutude until he realised Thorin was still watching the lass like a hawk. "she will have us to protect her and Im sure you wouldnt mind training her" Balin joked.

"I will not let her presence effect this quest, we will make sure she is trained" Thorin barked back. Both dwarves knew it was already too late just her sheer presence made Thorin reconsider his priorities.

[protosspals]

The ABCs of Starcraft: A is for Alarak and Artanis

((My friend and I have come up with a prompt list for the full alphabet and will be writing one shots for each letter. Today’s prompt is for the letter A and I chose the dearest Highlord Alarak and Hierarch Artanis together.)) 

The night was dark and stormy which was the type of night Alarak preferred. The flashes of lighting through the purple mist of Terrazine that covered his planet at this time was soothing to him. This was where he had been born and where he had fought his way up using wits and claw to claim his right to rule. It was all his now, yet... 

“When is Artanis supposed to arrive Martal? Should he not have been here by now? Perhaps I should devise a punishment for his lateness. It’s not proper to keep your Highlord waiting after all.” He grumbled, his mood as volatile as the storm raging around them. 

“Hierarch Artanis and his fleet have arrived Highlord. They are orbiting the planet now and waiting for the storm to pass so they might have a safer landing.” Martal chirped in his robotic tone as he hovered nearby his leader prepared to do any task demanded of him.  “Of course he would fear the storm, the Khalai are a bunch of cowards. By this point, he might as well just tuck tail and return home to Aiur.” He said returning from where he had been pacing in the middle of his room to look out the window again. 

“Shall I send word to them to leave? Or would you rather I go and retrieve the Hierarch for you personally my Highlord?” Martal asked hs sensor seeming to shine more brightly with the idea of kidnapping the Hierarch from under the watch his guards surely had in him. Alarak had to admit, the thought of Artanis’ look of outrage in such an event and the chaos it would cause was tempting. 

“No. Not this time. Send Ji’nara to... politely escort the Hierarch to our meeting place. Specify to her to let Artanis know that if a bit of thunder is going to keep him away, he might as well leave for there will be nothing here for him any longer. The festival ends with daybreak anyway.” He finally said and with his mind made up, he left the room to make his way to the designated location they had discussed for this event. 

The Festival of the Blood Rose was an annual event for the Tal’darim. Once per Slayn’s solar orbit (a time which took half of what it would be an Earth year) there would be a break in the Chain of Ascension. For that one night, movement up and down the chain was untethered by your current position. It allowed those who were young and strong to gain positions as Ascendants without wanton murder of all those above them. It also was the night of marriages. 

In Tal’darim tradition, they did not ask for marriage, they took the right. In the past that had lead to positions of unhappiness, one Alarak knew well as his own mother had been claimed by a cruel man she did not love due to her beauty. Alarak had changed things. Now the claim could be challenged, by both the one being claimed or one that agreed to fight in their stead. This allowed the tradition to continue in a way his people were used to, but gave those without as much power the opportunity to protect themselves through appointing someone stronger to fight the claim for them. It wasn’t perfect, but he had more plans to implement in the future to further protect those who didn’t want the marriage from being forced into it. 

However, tonight, that was not what was important to him. Tonight, the most important thing was that Artanis was going to be participating in the celebrations. He might have been a bit vague about things, but he knew Artanis would forgive him or it... eventually. Alarak was going to take what he wanted just as he always had. Khalai customs of giving gifts and going on silly dates was just so tedious and boring. 

Of course, if Artanis didn’t even bother to show up in time then Alarak couldn’t claim him since he wasn’t part of the chain. It would ruin everything. So of course he was upset. 

Artanis was nervous the lightning could affect the warp beam, but at the second and third messages, he rolled his eyes and acquiesced.

Landing at the approved location in his full ceremonial armor, he looked around just as Alarak's second approached, his head bow to her answered in kind before she started walking away, an obvious silent request to follow her which he took, his required guards the council had sent with him like he was a child following along obediently. He huffed in mild annoyance at the whole situation, they swiftly migrated through the city to the edge of the arena. His name was submitted to the lists before he emerged, bright and visible in his white and gold among the crowds of black.

Alarak had been sitting sideways in his throne which was placed in a box above the arena where he could watch everything easily but he perked up and sat forward when he finally saw Artanis step onto the field. The Hierarch looked glorious as ever in his polished armor but Alarak knew Artanis wouldn't mind staining the set with a little extra blue from battle. He was excited to watch.

There were many warriors eager to challenge not just a Khalai, but the Hierarch himself and Artanis had countless battles to wade through, the healers endlessly busy thanks to him. When he was finally allowed a break, he sat to clean some of the blood off, his muscles warmed albeit covered in sweat as lightning crashed in both the atmosphere and his eyes when he began again. He would prove his place amongst these people and earn the unity he so desperately wanted with them. Not just due to their Highlord either. 

After Artanis had proven himself enough to the Tal'darim people and earned himself a rank amongst the Ascendants, Alarak finally lost his patience. He waited for the current battle to finish before standing up and demanding the attention of his people.

"You have seen the grace and power of the Hierarch of the Daelaam, many of you now have felt the sting of his blades. He has earned his place as a warrior of our highest rankings. So now, before you all, before any others dare to cast their gaze on what's mine, I claim Hierarch Artanis as my own. Let any who oppose my claim speak their challenge now!" He said, his eyes and voice echoing with power as he stepped from his box into the air, a red cloud of power forming at his feet to carry him carefully to the ground in front of Artanis.

Blue eyes narrowed as Artanis glared at him, blades fizzling out so he could cross his arms. "So... this is why you invited me. I challenge you then, Highlord. For my own hand."

Alarak eyes squinted with joy and approval. "I would expect nothing else Hierarch." He said back as he stepped back into the starting position on his side of the field adrenaline already rushing through his veins. He had longed for this fight since they first met, now he would not lose.

Psionic plate and pauldrons shifting around for a power boost, he took his place and lit one blade, holding it up to his face in a silent challenge to Alarak before they ran at one another, their weapons meeting with a thud of psionics.

It was like watching two copies of one being, one dark and one light, just smashing into one another like titans, Artanis even tossing his opponent a good distance before chasing after him. He couldn't afford to lose or the Daelaam would be seen as weaker, his claws digging into dark armor.

The Arena seemed to be getting damaged more than either opponent, walls getting cracked as they threw each other into them, dirt ground beneath them being torn up by their claws. Their armor suffered as well, one of Alarak's large energy gathering shoulder plates getting broken off.

The battle was long and fierce, both Tal'darim and Khalai cheering for their leaders and watching on the edge of their seats at near misses. But finally, it was Alarak who stumbled. If it had been a fight to the death, he could of won. He had a perfect shot to take Artanis' head from his shoulders and almost acted on it in the heat of the battle. Only to have the thought freeze his muscles and it gave Artanis the opening he needed to take him down and pin him to the ground.

The lightning above illuminated Artanis as he slammed Alarak down so hard the jutting daggers in his armor embedded into the dirt, the wide grey chest heaving within the metallic confines while his knees pinned the black claws, blue power building in one hand. "Yield, Highlord."

Alarak looked into his eyes feeling the crushing blow of defeat weigh heavily in his hearts but knew he had failed. "I yield!" He yelled out so it could be heard clearly and closed his eyes feeling anger roll under his skin before he let it pass knowing he wasn't actually angry as much as disappointed in himself.

The Templar let go of his power just as a bolt struck, banishing it into the earth around them before he stood to pry Alarak from his entrapment.

Helping him stabilize, he kept a hand on the Tal'darim as he yelled for all their people to hear too. "I claim Highlord Alarak as my own! Let any who oppose my claim speak their challenge now!"

Alarak blinked, not having expected that. But the surprise only lasted a moment before it was covered with a cocky and well-worn expression. "Awww you were playing hard to get. I knew there was a reason I chose you." He said flicking Artanis' crest.

"I accept your claim through my defeat. I am yours." He said to finish the claim since he couldn't deny Artanis' right to it after being defeated.

Artanis relaxed as they started to walk off the field together so the festivities could continue. "Stubborn Tal'darim. You could have just asked."

"That is not the Tal'darim way and to do so would be a dishonor to you Artanis. I treated you as I would have any Tal'darim. I could have won but I didn't want to hurt your pride. This way will let my people respect you and the Daelaam more anyway. It was all part of my plan." Alarak said, no longer any doubt or sign of weakness to be seen. In fact, he looked even more cocky than usual. 

Artanis rolled his eyes knowing the truth but letting Alarak say what he wanted. They both had won in the end and that was what mattered. 

[camptony]

Breaking All The Rules || SEBTONY

That first week at camp flew by in a second, and by the time the second, and final week was starting, the weather around them begun to remind them that summer was in fact ending. But they still had a week to go, so they all decided to make the most of it. 

Nothing further had happened between Tony and Sebastian after they almost kissed by the lake that night, when they were abruptly interrupted by the kids, and it seemed, on purpose or not, that they kept on getting busy enough not to be alone that way again, and by that, not discussing what went on that night. They only made light talk when they happened to sit at the counselor's table to eat, and there times they didn't even sit together at all. Tony was starting to think that what happened that night had been just a fluke, and if that was the case, he was glad it didn't go any further. 

On that particular night, Tony waited until the most late hour to go clean himself up. After making sure all the kids were asleep, he grabbed his things and quietly made it out of the cabin and down the short road that led to where the showers were, which was in fact a little shed with a several stalls, lockers and sinks. He could hear thunders in the distance as he put his clothes down and went to one of the stalls to start the water up.

Sebastian looked up to the sky and despite the darkness, he could see the threatening rain clouds looming. They'd avoided most of the bad weather at camp fortunately, with it being still summer, but there had been one day (yesterday) where the campers had been cooped up inside all day, though fortunately there were plenty of music and arts activities to keep them busy as it was an arts camp. Still, it wasn't supposed to rain tonight but the clouds and the distance clap of thunder was suggesting differently and he figured he only had a short window to get to the shower block, shower, and get back to the cabin safe and dry. 

He quickly gathered his things, slinging his towel over his shoulder and swinging his toiletries bag on his hand. He whistled as he made his way to the shower block, the soft solar lights on the path lighting the way well enough that he didn't have to grab his phone out to use the torch. When he reached the block he noticed one of the cubicles was taken but didn't take much notice of it, as there were plenty of counsellors it could be, and simply went into another one down the far end, turning the water on.

@rockcreeksmythe

Tony was almost done with his shower by the time he heard the door was bieng opened. He assumed it was just another counselor coming in for a late night shower, so he didn't pay much attention to that. He wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out of the stall, then headed to the sink and pulled out what he needed from his bag to shave himself up a bit.

Sebastian wanted to beat the rain so it was probably one of the quickest showers he'd taken so it wasn't long before he was turning the water off and wrapping a towel around his waist, tucking it in to hold it there. He hummed to himself as he walked out from the stall area, into where the sinks and mirrors were and stopped. 

Tony was standing at the sink, only a towel wrapped around him much like Sebastian had and there were still beads of water dripping down his back and jesus christ how was it that he was so attractive. Not that he wasn't himself, obviously. But he'd expected the other counsellors at camp to be ... well, not like Tony. "Oh," he cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant, "hey. Trying to beat the rain too?"

Tony was splashing water on his face after he was done shaving, hearing only the 'oh' part before he turned around and saw Sebastian there, wearing a towel around his waist and still dripping wet, much like he was. "Hey yourself" he said, trying his best for things not to feel too awkward. "I guess i am. At least I'm hoping that much." He couldn't help but let his eyes wonder down the man's half naked body, then quickly looked away. "We're almost done here. I bet you can't wait to go home, huh?"

Sebastian smirked, noticing the way Tony's eyes very quickly looked away - he was no stranger to the appreciative glances, though he doubted Tony was either. He shrugged, walking up to the sink next to Tony's, "I suppose. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be." A loud clap of thunder made them jump and he looked up, then back to Tony, "what about you? Happy to be going home?"

Tony was a bit startled when the thunder hit, then he continued to wash his face up, which he was almost done with, having already brushed his teeth. "Mhm. Very happy. To me, home is a two story place, apartment on the top, record store downstairs, in New York. What's not to love about returning to that, huh?" He chuckled, then a bright lightning hit, one that made the lights flicker. "Damn it. We better hurry before it gets here-" he begun to say, two seconds too late, because the rain started puring, and very hard.

Sebastian hummed at Tony's words. Home for him wasn't so much his apartment, but his studio. He'd missed being surrounded by canvases and being covered in paint as he lost himself in his work. It had only been two weeks - though with travel time and readjusting for jetlag, it was closer to three for him. But it had been the longest he'd gone without being in some kind of studio in a long time. 

"Fuck," he said, when the rain cut off Tony's words, pelting loudly on the roof of the bathrooms. It had come so sudden and fast, Sebastian thought it might quickly disappear but it just seemed to get heavier. He opened the door to look outside, to see if it was as heavy as it sounded, but they could barely see through the rain it was pouring down. "Guess we're stuck in here then, huh?" He said, looked sideways at Tony and if there was a glint in his eye, well, who could blame him.

Tony gathered his things as quickly as he could, trying his best to hurry out of there before the rain got there, but just as he made it to the door it started rain, and hard. He sighed and leaned against the doorframe, looking at the gray and black sky above. "I guess we are" he said, then turned around and placed his travel bag on top of the bench that was there and sat down. "Is that a bad thing?"

Sebastian shrugged at Tony's question, "depends on how you look at it." He pushed himself off from where he'd been leaning against the sink and dropped onto the bench next to Tony. "We are stuck here and it's raining and who knows when that's going to stop. But on the other hand, if we're stuck in here that means everybody else is stuck somewhere else."

Tony swallowed hard as he watched Sebastian sitting at his side on the bench, then nodded. "That's true. No one is coming out of their cabins with this storm" he said with a soft chuckle, then looked at him and they both stayed silent for a couple of seconds. It had been impossible for Tony not to think back on that moment at the lake, when they were about to kiss and they were interrupted. At first he had told himself it was for the better, that it was best not to complicate things, but as days went by he felt the on growing urge of thinking back on that, and also imagine what that would had been like. 

With the fast coming time when they would have to say goodbye hovering over their heads, he realized there was no time like the present, as against the rules as it might had been. Without any second thought he leaned in and placed both hands on his face, and kissed him firmly on the lips for a couple of seconds, then he pulled back a bit to see his reaction.

Sebastian couldn't deny he had been flirting with Tony, he hadn't exactly been subtle about it. But still, when he kissed him his body went still for a moment, surprised Tony had actually acted on the tension that had been hanging around them the past two weeks. When the other man pulled back Sebastian looked at him and it was barely a few seconds before his face broke out into a smirk. He didn't say anything, he didn't felt like he needed to, instead his response was to simply close the gap between them again, crashing their lips together in a much more heated kiss than the tentative one a few moments earlier.

It literally felt like time had stood still after he pulled back, and during a very brief second he felt like he had done the wrong thing. Maybe Sebastian wasn't that much into him to begin with, and the shock on his face, followed by that stupid smirk made him feel that much. Oh yeah, he had been trolled for sure. 

He had half a mind to simply stand up and walked away from there, even under that heavy rain... But then Sebastian kissed him back, and he had barely any time to react properly before his mind caught up to what was happening. Dozens of things went through his mind, mainly to do with if whether that was right or not, but when it came down to it, the camp was about to end soon, and they probably wouldn't see each other ever again. Why waste that one chance? 

He put his arms around him and let himself go completly into the kiss, his tongue soon prying Sebastian's lips open wantonly and making their kiss that much more dirty, neeedy and hot.

Sebastian was glad when Tony gave in to the kiss, their minds finally catching up to what their bodies had been telling them for awhile. He moved swiftly so he was straddling Tony, thankful that the bench he was quite large as it was a communal bathroom after all. With his legs either side of Tony's he looked down at him and smirked, "about time." He chuckled, and leaned into kiss him again, the new angle with him straddling them saving them from turning their heads to the side as before.

Tony groaned when he felt Sebastian's full body weight on him, his arms going around his waist as he tilted his head, his tongue languidedly sucking on Sebastian's. His taste poured down his throat like the sweetest liquor, and making him dizzy. His hands moved down to rest on his ass, his fingers soon squezing the mounds as he pushed his hips up slightly.

Sebastian groaned when Tony's hands found their way to his ass and he rocked his body down to the other man's movements. The rain continued to pour down, the constant sound of it hitting the tin roof of the bathroom almost deafening. He never thought he'd be quite as thankful for a thunderstorm, but given that camp was over soon and Tony was really hot and he'd wanted to do this since they'd first met, you'd be damned well sure he'd be thankful for this one.

Tony slid his hands under the fabric of his shirt, his fingernails dragging down the skin of his back, all while never breaking from the kiss, as if it was something they needed to keep on doing to survive. Eventually they needed to come back up for air as well and when they pulled back he looked up at Sebastian, the goofiest grin curling his lips. "Fucking finally" he said, then he leaned in and peppered light kisses on the male's long neck, his teeth nipping the small freckles he saw there.

Sebastian laughed when Tony spoke, echoing his sentiments perfectly. "Mmm... I agree." His head fell to the side when Tony's lips found the skin, exposing his neck more. He was still straddling him, legs on either side of Tony's and he braced himself by gripping Tony's shoulders. "You know..." he rocked his hips down, "this thunderstorm makes this bathroom about as private as a bedroom... nobody is going to go out in the storm just for for loo. And I'm really quite good at sucking cock... you know, if you were interested." He smirked down at Tony.

Tony looked at  him and couldn't help but chuckle. "You do know how to sweet talk a man, huh?" he said with a grin, then he stood up and took Sebastian's hand so he would stood up too. "But you're right. Let's take advantage of that fact. Also... let's see how good you are then." He winked at him and turned around to lead him to where the showers were. Their previous clean up would go to damn, but who could really complain? He pulled him harsh into one of the stalls and pushed him against the wall, his lips clashing on the other's again for a bit before he pulled back and smirked. "Show me then."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow when Tony moved to stand up, and climbed off of him quickly, taking his hand when he was offered. He supposed Tony was the one thinking logically right now - even though they were unlikely to get interrupted, moving to a shower cubicle was by far the smartest option... he was pretty sure if a camper came in and they were - well, busy - in the open area, they'd probably be arrested or something. 

"Hmm... I'm not sure if I want to now," he replied with a wry smile, kissing the skin of Tony's neck. "Maybe I want you to show me..." He laughed, dropping to his knees in front of Tony. "You'll have to promise to return the favour," he said with a smirk. Their towels had come off at some point, so they didn't have to worry about clothes or any barriers to what they wanted to do, which he was glad for. He looked up at him, making eye contact as he slowly dragged his tongue along the underside of Tony's cock.

Tony grinned. "I will show you, don't worry about it. But you're up first, stud." He licked his lips as he watched him getting on his knees, his fingers then sliding through the dark locks of hair just as his tongue first touched him. "Fuck, yes..." he muttered, his head falling back as the heat started to shoot up his spine with every touch he gave him.

The rain pelted down onto the tin roof, louder and louder as the storm continued to batter the campground. It didn't seem like it was going to let up any time soon and, quite frankly, Sebastian was fine with that. He gave a couple more teasing licks to Tony's cock, but couldn't resist for much longer as he wrapped his mouth around the head. It had been awhile since he'd been with somebody like this - not the bathroom, that was hardly anything new. Nor the fact that somebody had a dick in their mouth, that was - again - pretty standard. But generally the people he hooked up with were met in bars and clubs or - if he was really desperate - Grindr. It had been awhile since he'd actually known the person he was with. And been certain the name they'd told him was their real one. He groaned, sliding his mouth further down, taking in as much as he could, before he started bobbing his head.

Tony grunted and let his head hit the wall behind him, his knees bucking a little under him as Sebastian's lips closed around him perfectly, his tongue molding under his cock as he started moving his head. "Fuck me, you're good at that... mmm..." He licked his lips and looked down, his teeth tugging on his lips as he watched his cock disappearing between Sebastian's lips. Every possible thing he had ever dreamed about Sebastian since the day they met was nothing compared to reality. After a while he grabbed onto his hair and slowly pushed his hips forward, a smirk curling his lips as their eyes met. "Just how much can you take, stud?"

Sebastian gave a choked off laugh at Tony's words and, if he didn't have his mouth full of said man's cock, he would have retorted that of course he was good at this. Otherwise his earlier brag would have been pretty sad. When Tony's hands found their way into his hair, holding him steady, he raised an eyebrow at him in hopes that his expression was enough of a challenge without needing any words to reply. Try me.

Fuck, that man was perfect. And while he held his head steady with both hands and started to push his hips forward until his cock brushed the back of his throat, Tony wondered why the the hell hadn't they done that before. He grunted and threw his head back in pure delight, his knees shaking hard the more he stretched the man's lips with his throbbing member. After a while he pulled out of him, a string of slick attaching the head of his cock and Sebastian's lips together until the moment he pulled him up on his feet and he clashed their lips together hard, savouring their combined taste and moaning as it poured down his throat. 

He turned him around and pressed him against the wall while they were still kissing, then he got on his knees and undid his pants swiftly, not willing to waste any time with finesse manners. He wanted Sebastian and he wanted him now. He reached inside his sweats and pulled his half hard cock out, and he dragged his tongue from the base to the top, his tongue twirling around the head before he opened his mouth and took him in.

Sebastian looked up at Tony when his cock slipped from his mouth, letting himself be pulled to his feet and into a kiss easily. There were few words exchanged between the two of them right now, both of them knowing that their time may be limited and the storm could end any moment. Their bodies moved together as they kissed as he felt himself spun around, his back hitting the hard tiled wall of the shower with a soft thud. 

He groaned, chasing Tony's lips with his own but the man was already dropping to his knees in front of him, his mouth wrapping around his cock quickly. "Mmm...fuck," he said in a single breath, biting his lip as he let his head fall back against the wall and a hand tangle in Tony's hair.

Tony hummed around Sebastian's cock as he kept on bobbing his head around it, and he looked up at him through his thick and dark eyelashes and winked, his lips working perfectly around the delicious and quickly hardening member. He held it by the base and moved his hand at the same pace his mouth did, working whatever inch he couldn't take in at first, then little by little he made all his way down on him, his nose bumping the man's stomach every time he went forward. 

He deepthroated him several times, gasping loudly every time he came back up for air, while a string of slick kept his lips and the man's cock attached. While he took a chance to take a breather he would jerk him off firmly, his lips also moving right between his legs and mouthing his balls eagerly.

"You're a fucking menace," Sebastian said though the last word came out as more of a gasp with the way Tony's mouth sunk around him. It was sinful, really, the things the other man was doing. Why on earth had they waited until the second to last day of the camp to do this, he'll never know now. His hands steadied himself against the tiled walls, glad he was backed up against it because he needed the support. "If you keep doing ... mmm ... that, I'm going to come in your mouth," he said as a warning, giving Tony the choice to stop.

Tony moaned around Sebastian's cock after he took him in his mouth again, then he looked up at him and smiled slightly before he pulled back and stood up again, their lips clashing heatedly yet again, wet and deep, harsh and raw, all passion anf lust pour on every suck of their tongues and eveery bite of their teeth. He pulled back slowly, his teeth tugging on the man's lower lip, then he grinned. "As fun as that sounds, I don't want our first time to end like that, babe" he said, then he licked his lips and held him pinned against the wall. "What's left to decide is... which one of us is going on top? Just so you know, I'm happy doing both, so you get to choose...

Sebastian nearly groaned at the sight of Tony after he pulled off his cock. His lips were red, eyes blown. But he didn't have a moment to process the sight, as Tony was quick to his feet, kissing him roughly - and he gave back as good as he got. Sebastian smirked at Tony's words. He was pretty sure both would be good for him too, but he still hardly knew Tony, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that kind of vulnerability. Unless he knew and trusted the other person without any doubt, his preference was always to top. He chuckled, spinning them around so now he was the one holding Tony to the wall, "Tony, I've been staring at your ass since day one - I'm topping. Wait here." 

With the shower still running, he opened the stall door and looked out. They hadn't heard anybody come in, but there was no harm in being safe. His cock was still hard and leaking, which didn't exactly make dashing over to the bench to get a condom and a small packet of lube from his toiletries bag a fun experience but he slept around enough not to be stupid about it. "Don't judge me for bringing condoms and lube to a camp," he warned as he slipped back into the shower cubicle, setting the condom and lube onto the small soap dish attached to the wall and backing Tony against the wall almost instantly. "I like to be prepared. Speaking of prepared..." He trailed off with a smirk, reaching for the lube.

Tony grunted when his back hit the wall, the heat resulting from that echoing through him like wildfire. He smirked and nodded. "You defintely have a good taste. I'm not going anywhere" he said, his voice ragged from all the suction and friction it just had of him going down on Sebastian. It couldn't be anymore than a couple of seconds while he went to get what they needed, but it stil felt too long. He stroked himself lazily a couple of times while waiting, then chuckled when he finally came back. "No judging at all. I'm always also all about taking precautions, no matter  what or where." He bit his lip down and pulled him in for another hard kiss, his teeth and tongue grazing his lips teasingly, then he turned around to face the wall and bent over just a little, his ass practically presented to the other man.

Sebastian kissed back as good as he got and would have been happy to keep doing that... if he didn't know what it was a precursor for. He licked his lips when Tony turned to face this wall, bending over so the ass he'd been not so subtly staring at for the past two weeks was right there. "You know, this is not how I expected the last night of camp to go," he said idly, tearing the packet of lube open at the same time a clap of thunder sounded, causing the rickety building to shake. He poured some of the lube over his fingers and circled one around Tony's entrance. "Not that I'm complaining," he said with a smirk, slowly pushing one digit in.

With his both hands against the wall, Tony's heart pounded inside his chest from anticipation, knowing what was about to happen, which was exactly what he wanted. "I'm sorry to damp your plans- Oh wait... I don't really care" he said with a soft chuckle, his head turning just enough to meet Sebastian's eyes, then just as a soundind moan left his lips another thunder rumbled above their heads, his head thrown back in sheer delight as he felt his long finger sliding in. "Fuck, yeah... mmm..." he breathed out, his hand reaching back to stroke Sebastian's cock slowly.

Sebastian laughed, "mmhmm - I really didn't think you did. Trust me, from where I'm standing ... it's obvious how much you want this." He smirked at Tony since the other man was looking at him for a brief moment before his head was thrown back. The angle was awkward when Tony reached around to stroke his cock, but he wasn't complaining, his hips still stuttering forward from the touch. He moved his finger in and out of him a few times, before pushing a second one alongside the first, crooking them slightly.

Tony's eyes rolled to white when Sebastian added a second finger inside of him, his knees shaking from both the pain and pleasure it gave him, and he turned his head and leaned in to kiss him again. "You better fuck me soon, Smythe... I don't like been keep waiting for what I want" he whispered over his lips with a grin.

Sebastian chuckled against his lips, shaking his head, "and I don't like being told what to do, Tremblay. In fact..." he hummed, moving his mouth across the skin of Tony's collarbone and shoulder, pumping his fingers in and out until he was satisfied, "maybe I won't fuck you at all... I could take you apart like this, you know." He paused, and then slipped out his fingers, reaching for the condom to roll it on his hard cock, "I won't - but I could." He winked at him, before lining his cock up with Tony's entrance and pushing in slowly, giving the other man time to adjust.

Tony grunted and threw his head forward, his fingernails grabbing onto the wall of the stall, though there wasn't much to hold onto there. He groaned when he felt his fingers out of him, then chuckled breathlessly. "It's not like you would get off if you didn't, Smythe" he said with a wicked grin on his face, then he bit his lip down when he felt the bluntness of the tip sliding in, his body fighting the intrusion at first but slowly giving in, then he took a deep breath and started to move slowly against him, each move he made taking him deeper in his ass. "Fuck, yeah... oh... fuck, you feel so good... mmm..."

Sebastian didn't dignify Tony's words with a response because - while he certainly could have got off, he doubted it would be as satisfying as getting off while fucking Tony. Not even close. He smirked, rolling his hips inside of him, "thank you... nothing I haven't heard before." He added with a laugh, holding onto his hips before starting to thrust slowly inside of him.

Tony turned his head and grinned at him. "I bet you have" he said, then moaned out loud when he begun to move, his legs shaking harder the further he sunk into him. "Fuck yes... mmm.. Fucking fuck me already, man..."

"Needy," Sebastian muttered, but he was in no position to deny Tony's request with the way his own body was thrumming with want and need. He pulled himself out, before pushing back in, only taking one more thrust before slamming forward. He wrapped one arm around Tony to support him, now pounding into him.

Tony chuckled breathlessly. "If I wanted delicacy and romance I would had found a boyfriend, Smythe" he said, then almost screamed when the other begun to pound him fully, his teeth sinking on his own lips to shut himself up. He grabbed onto the wall in front of him for some support, his body now being tossed back and forth with the force of the man's thrusts. "Fucking yeah... just like that... ah... fuck.. ahhh... mm..." He let his head fall between his shoulders, his body only then starting to push back on Sebastian's cock.

Sebastian smirked when he saw Tony trying to keep quiet, despite the rain still pelting down around them. He doubted anybody would be brave enough to face the weather just for a quick bathroom break, but he supposed they couldn't be too careful. It was still a camp for children at the end of the day. The hand that was around Tony's waist slid to his cock, wrapping a hand around it, as his other hand gripped at his hip, holding him upright as he slammed forward relentlessly, "mmm... fuck, you feel good."

Tony grunted and held onto the wall tighter, the force of Sebastian's thrust almost making him hit the wall in front of him, and he would had if he hadn't his hands out front to prevent it. "Fuck, you do too.... We should've- ahh.... done this sooner...mmm..." He turned his head a little to look at him and grinned. "We could've had more fun a lot sooner.... But this is making up for it good..." He grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in, their lips crashing together hotly.

Sebastian's reply was cut off by Tony's lips crashing against his own, as a clap of thunder practically shaking the small building they were in. He smirked into the kiss, knowing the other man was right - they could have had a lot more fun and a lot sooner... but he supposed they would have risked getting caught more if they'd been intentionally trying to sneak off throughout the two week camp. This was spontaneous and fun and the thunderstorm going on outside made it very unlikely somebody would interrupt them and as Tony said - it was making up for the lost time regardless. He swiped his thumb over the head of Tony's cock, his hand moving in time with the rhythm of his thrusts.

Any sound they were making was swallowed by the loud clash of thunder that kept rumbling around them, and he was thankful for that. Every hard thrust, every hard pull on the hair, and even more now, with Sebastian's skillful hand stroking the climax out of him. He knew the moment the adrenaline was gone the pain would be much too real, but it would be the best kind of pain. "Oh god, fuckfuck.. yeah... you're gonna make me come so hard... ah..."

Sebastian leaned forward, bending Tony over just a little more. He kissed the back of his neck, and they pressed kisses along the back of his shoulder before nipping at his ear. "You're damn right I am," he said, his voice practically a low growl, his hand stroking Tony's cock with practiced ease, his thrusts controlled and directed. "And you're gonna come before me... I want to feel you," he said, his breath hot against his ear.

Tony grunted when he was bent over like that, his body at the full mercy of Sebastian's control. He put both hands on the wall for some lean support as he was being shoved against it hard. "Ahh fuck yeah.... mmm" He bit his lip down, almost annoyed at himself for giving in to the other man's will, and when the warmth of his breath fell on his lips that was all he could hold back. He threw his head back, his moan resonating hard as another thunder striked, then he came hard in Sebastian's hand, ropes of pealy slick coating his fingers and also the wall in front.

Sebastian continued to stroke Tony's cock through his high, feeling the other man's body clench his cock sending pleasure through his own body. He pounded into him, his thrusts each more erratic than the last, but it only took a few more until he was coming himself, Tony's name on his lips. He could feel himself filling the condom up as he fucked Tony through their climaxes, the thrusts slowing as they both came down from their highs, breathing heavily. "Mmm... pity we waited until the last night to do that," he said, voice rough and cock still buried inside of Tony as he carefully slid out of him.

Tony grunted when he felt Sebastian still pounding into him, his climax burning through his veins like gasoline as each thrust made him unable to come down, but he loved it. He loved being able to still be there for when Sebastian also finally came, and he reached back and grabbed onto the messy dark chesnut locks of hair and pulled it hard when he felt his cock throbbing inside of him, almost whining about the fact he couldn't really feel him like he would had wanted. He groaned, then chuckled breathlessly when he pulled out of him, then turned around to face him. "Maybe. Or maybe it wass for the best, or they would had caught us and fired us in the middle of things." 

There was a second of silence before Tony rubbed the back of his neck. What now? Should he leave? Should Sebastian leave? Should they kiss? It was their last night at the camp, and suddenly things were just a tiny bit awkward. "Uh... I guess I should take another shower" he finally said with a soft chuckle.

Sebastian hummed. He supposed Tony was right... now that he'd got a taste, he was pretty sure he would have wanted another if camp wasn't ending tomorrow. And with sneaking around certainly came more risk for being caught and given it was a camp for children, he was sure being caught could lead to more than just them getting fired if the wrong person found them. Indecent exposure in front of a minor came to mind. 

He laughed quietly and nodded, picking up the two towels that had dropped from their waists earlier and wrapped one around himself. "I think we both need a shower after that," he said, reaching over Tony, skin touching skin, and turned the water on. "But I'll let you have this one, I'll go to the next cubicle... otherwise something tells me we won't get clean." As he pulled back from turning the water on, he pressed his body back against him, kissing him deeply before separating with a grin. "Just wanted to make sure we got one more in." He winked at him, before taking his leave and ducking out of the cubicle and into the one a few doors down.

Tony chuckled and shook his head. "I think you maybe right. Not that I would mind but-" He shrugged, then smiled and looked him right in the eyes as he leaned to turn the water on. He was about to say something more, but his lips were hushed in the most fine way, his lips curled in a grin as they pulled away from the kiss. "Great minds think alike" he said, then turned around and washed himself out again. 

By the time they were done cleaning themselves up the storm outside had passed, and now only the sound of water drops falling gently off the ceiling and the trees leaves around could be heard. They dressed up again and Tony unlocked the door to look outside. "Well... I suppose it's to go now." He turned to look at Sebastian, thinking that was perhaps the last time he would see him. "We're leaving early in the morning. We should get some rest and sleep. At least, I know I need it." He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

Sebastian nodded at Tony's words, his hair damp as he dried it slowly with the towel. "We have to get all the campers to their parents safely tomorrow before we leave," he reminded him with a laugh, "which means I think our early leaving will probably be delayed a little. So I'm sure I'll see you around." He let the towel hang around his neck and gathered his things. 

"Tonight was fun, yeah?" He smirked at him, "don't have regrets - you're far too pretty to have regrets." He winked at him and before Tony could reply, he ducked out of the bathroom and towards his cabin.

Tony chucled and also went to get his things together. "Yeah. There's still a lot to be done before we actually have to go" he said with a chuckle, then looked at him and nodded. "I suppose we'll share a coffee or something before we go." He looked at him and smiled, and before he could reply Sebastian had already left the bathroom. He walked up to the door and grinned. "None whatsoever" he said, even if he was the only one left in the room. He turned the light off and also made a quick run back to his cabin.

Sebastian hardly saw Tony the following morning - they said hello, of course, but they were swept up in the hustle and bustle of packing the kids up for their parents to collect them. And god, if he never had to deal with campers and parents on pick up day ever again, it would be too soon. There were people yelling, crying - bags getting mixed up. Kids not wanting to go, kids wanting to go before their parents were even there. The camp had staggered pick up times based on ages - or the youngest sibling's age in the case of siblings - to ensure the carpark didn't get backed up, but it also meant that pick up time seemed to go forever. But when they finally waved off the older kids, the counsellors breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to Tony with a grin, finally able to maybe share the coffee, but was stopped by a voice saying his name. 

"Sebastian? Your car for the airport is here." "What?" He said, sounding confused - he'd organised it to come two hours after pick up ended, to make sure he was there for clean up and such - and looked down at his watch. "Oh, shit." Pick ups had been delayed and in fact, the driver was right on time. Two hours after pick ups were meant to end. One of them laughed, "it's okay, first timers always thing pick ups will go right on schedule... word of advice for next year, they don't. It's okay, all the packing up was done last night anyway. Don't keep the driver waiting." 

He turned to Tony and shrugged, since he really had no option. His bags (like all the counsellors) were already packed and along the wall of a nearby building. "Look me up if you're ever in Paris," he said with a wink, "we'll have that coffee." With that, he offered him a mock salute and waved goodbye to the other counsellors as he gathered his bags and walked in the direction of the waiting bay.

The next morning the camp site looked just like a flea market. Lots of people coming and going, lots of yelling and pointing, especially from the kids, who seemed to be swimming in a whole new rush over the fact they were leaving. He honestly couldn't recall that many bags the day the campers arrived, and they seemed  to have multipled over the last couple of days. Either way, the kids would soon be gone, and he would have the chance to have that coffee with Sebastian. 

It was hard to miss the other man amongst the crowd, the tallest ones in a small sea of children. It was also hard to miss out on the annoyance of his face with all the turmoil that was going around him. It made him chuckle in away, and of course it was also impossible for him not to think back on the night before, and just how good it had been. The sight of a black car pulled him out of thought, especially when he realized it was there for Sebastian. 

He walked up to him and stick his hands in his pockets and also shrugged. "Sure" he simply said to what Sebastian said, then nodded. "Have a safe flight, man. See you around." He offered him a bright smile before he also turned around and went to pick up his own bag, then got into the bus that was there to pick up the counselors and sat down at the very last row of seats, the image of the camp getting further away as the bus started moving, as well as the memories of the most peculiar summer he had ever had. 

END SCENE.

[f4liveblogarchives]

Fantastic Four Vol 1 #196

Sun Aug 25 2019 [01:53 PM] Wack'd: Normally I don't post covers but there's a lot going on here

[01:53 PM] Bocaj: A lot to unpack [01:54 PM] Wack'd: So for the record [01:55 PM] Wack'd: What actually happened was that Skrulls abducted Franklin Storm out of prison, replaced him with a Skrull. Skrull Storm then broke out of prison and claimed he'd given himself superpowers and was now a supervillain [01:55 PM] Wack'd: "The Invincible Man" [01:56 PM] Wack'd: When the Four figured out the truth, the Skrulls send Franklin Storm back with a gun strapped to his chest, but rather than murder his kids he dropped to the floor so the gunshot would rebound on him [01:56 PM] Wack'd: So, uh, no. By no metric did Sue and Johnny "murder" him [01:57 PM] Wack'd: This was all back in the 60s which I read a fucktillion years ago in 2016 so I hope that recap helped [01:57 PM] Bocaj: That sure is nonsense [01:58 PM] Wack'd: In fairness. Not bad revenge for being tricked by a comic book and having your soldiers turned into cows [01:58 PM] Bocaj: Fair [01:59 PM] Wack'd: So anyway Reed is in a hypnosis chamber to have his will broken so he'll kill his friends [01:59 PM] Wack'd: When his new bosses said that there was free mental health treatment I don't think this is what Reed had in mind [02:01 PM] Bocaj: Truly businesses supporting mental health hasn't gotten any better since the 70s... [02:01 PM] Wack'd: This mystery man who may or may not be Franklin Storm somehow has cannibalized Psycho-Man's suit for more effective hypnosis. You might remember him from the Four 1967 annual [02:01 PM] Wack'd: Also other stuff [02:03 PM] Wack'd: Also his assistant is Hauptmann, from the 85-87 arc where Doom tries to trap the Four in Latveria forever [02:03 PM] Wack'd: I really should be keeping a running list of who's been doing the most cannibalizing from the 60s [02:03 PM] Wack'd: Because jesus fuck have we been on a continuity kick lately [02:04 PM] Wack'd: BACK TO HOLLYWOOD [02:05 PM] Wack'd: Sue tries desperately to pretend she's had a single meaningful conversation with Johnny since 1964

[02:06 PM] Bocaj:

"Hey.... you" "Its me, Johnny! The loveable rascal! Your brother!" "Right right right of course!" -to Reed- "I have no idea who that is"

[02:06 PM] Wack'd: I'd like to nominate Keith Pollard for worst-ever drawing of any child, ever

[02:06 PM] Bocaj: Kill it with fire [02:07 PM] Wack'd: Maybe Pollard is just...bad at art?

[02:08 PM] Wack'd: The coloring isn't helping though [02:08 PM] Umbramatic: oh god [02:08 PM] maxwellelvis: I was about to say [02:08 PM] maxwellelvis: Good lord! First-phase Liefeld's Syndrome! [02:10 PM] Wack'd: Something I haven't mentioned is that Agatha is now Franklin Richards' live-in nanny which, I think, would probably have been a smarter writing choice from the beginning [02:10 PM] Bocaj: Oh so she returned to the job? [02:10 PM] Wack'd: It was always kinda weird that Reed and Sue had to shlep out to Agatha's house to see their kid [02:10 PM] Bocaj: This must have been around the time she told Wanda 'I've taught you all I can, laters' [02:10 PM] Wack'd: Yeah since New Salem and also her house got got she's been following around Sue and Franklin, including to Hollywood [02:12 PM] Wack'd: So Sue, Ben, and Johnny go sightseeing, and talk about reforming the team. Only problem is convincing Reed [02:12 PM] Wack'd: They arrive on the Walk of Fame, and--

[02:12 PM] Wack'd: I am officially declaring Pollard the worst [02:13 PM] maxwellelvis: AHH! ART ATTACK! [02:13 PM] Umbramatic: my eyes [02:13 PM] maxwellelvis: THE ART IS COMING RIGHT AT US! [02:14 PM] Wack'd: Ben tries to get an autograph but is shoed away by cops [02:14 PM] Wack'd: Who think he's a guy in a costume because Let's Make Another Deal™ is shooting across the street [02:15 PM] Wack'd: Okay, I laughed

[02:16 PM] Bocaj: Hah [02:16 PM] Wack'd: *Alex Ross goes on to use this panel as the basis for his drawings of Sue and Johnny* [02:16 PM] Bocaj: To choose which celebrities they look like? [02:16 PM] Wack'd: Yes [02:16 PM] Wack'd: Dats da joke [02:17 PM] Bocaj: Is it a joke? I thought you were seriously imparting trivia [02:18 PM] Wack'd: It was a joke, I can't actually name the celebrities off the top of my head that Alex Ross picks, sorry [02:18 PM] Wack'd: So the scenes from the cover happen but they're hallucinated in the middle of this lovely restaurant [02:19 PM] Wack'd: Also, this

[02:20 PM] Wack'd: So apparently this was all a battle in the center of the mind not in physical space. Sue, Johnny, and Ben lose, allowing Invincible Man to extract them from the restaurant [02:21 PM] Wack'd: Just another day in Hollyweird, lol

[02:22 PM] Wack'd: So back at Reed's new job, it turns out Invisible Man was--REED! [02:22 PM] Wack'd: He was hypnotized [02:23 PM] Bocaj: 😐 [02:23 PM] Bocaj: Another Evil Reed? [02:23 PM] Wack'd: But then he snaps out of it and gets angry so they're all thrown in a dungeon [02:23 PM] Bocaj: Another Evil But Its Not His Fault Honest Reed?? [02:23 PM] Wack'd: YEP [02:23 PM] Bocaj: Weird trend lately [02:23 PM] Wack'd: I know, right? [02:25 PM] Wack'd: I maintain that Wein was throwing a hissy fit over the idea of Reed having character flaws. But Wein is gone, and it's a weird grudge for two consecutive writers to hold, especially when the divorce arc has been over for like 45 issues [02:26 PM] Bocaj: Maybe the current writer is just copying Wein [02:26 PM] Wack'd: Maybe [02:27 PM] ThreeOfFour: someone tell The Maker he isn't special [02:27 PM] Wack'd: So anyway Reed agrees to go back to work because otherwise his friends die I guess [02:28 PM] Bocaj: Hey, the Maker. You're not special [02:29 PM] Wack'd: ...this guy hasn't appeared before this issue so I'm not sure why I'm supposed to care here

[02:30 PM] Wack'd: I actually went back and checked just now to see if this guy was in other issues at Reed's new job and no, he's not, Wolfman introduced to this supposedly important character just to make a joke about the fact that he's not important [02:31 PM] Wack'd: The beginning of the issue kind of implies that he's the mysterious man in chair? But there's a panel later on that implies it's Doom, so [02:32 PM] Wack'd: So this is what Reed's been working on

[02:32 PM] Bocaj: The set of a high budget fantasy movie? [02:32 PM] Wack'd: These mirrors are so powerful that they will drive you insane if you look at them with your eyes open, and even with your eyes closed it's not great [02:32 PM] Bocaj: why [02:33 PM] Wack'd: I guess this is what they thought solar power would be like in 1978 [02:34 PM] Wack'd: The Red-Haired Man is also planning on getting Reed his stretching back for some reason [02:35 PM] Wack'd: Back in the dungeon, Sue uses her force fields to break the team's shackle and the--okay

[02:35 PM] Wack'd: I know Janet has that whole speech about how when you focus on power sets and not what each personality brings to the team, you don't build something that lasts as long as the Avengers do [02:36 PM] Wack'd: That said I'm kinda feeling like Sue can do everything Reed could with far less threat of bodily harm [02:36 PM] Bocaj: But can she be a giant asshole who tells the others what to do all the time? [02:36 PM] Wack'd: Fair [02:37 PM] Wack'd: Also why are so many artists convinced Sue's powers come from her forehead [02:37 PM] Bocaj: That’s where psychic powers come from [02:39 PM] Wack'd: I should probably take a moment to point out the interior blue highlights on Sue's powers, an embellishment that will gradually lead to more dynamic illustrations and the eventual obsolescence of the classic dotted-line look

[02:40 PM] Umbramatic: Sue's slow evolution into one of the most powerful people in Marvel pleases me [02:41 PM] Wack'd: Anyway no sooner do they escape then they are immediately re-captured by Doom, who let them escape because they are powerless and he is great and yada yada yada [02:42 PM] Umbramatic: DOOOOOOM [02:43 PM] Bocaj: "There would be no plot if DOOM did not allow you fools to escape"

[thethespacecoyote]

“work it out”

On the counter sits a stack of mail Ben had presumably brought in before leaving for work, and to Hux’s dismay he sees one of those detestable maternity magazines sitting right at the top. He’d told Ben to cancel their subscription but he must not have gotten around to it yet. At first, Hux had wanted to read all he could about pregnancy, absorb any tips and tricks from other expecting couples, but as his own wore on he’d soured on these publications. Pure drivel— nothing but pages and pages of omegas showing off fake smiles and fashionable sweaters and blouses and cute, petite baby bumps. Doing yoga and eating salad with their airbrushed skin and snug Lululemon leggings. Idiots. They have no idea what a special kind of suffering it is to lug around a pair of Ben Solo-sized offspring.

Hux hates them.

Combined my enjoyment of personal trainer Kylo with my enjoyment of pregnant Hux. Modern AU, fluff, self esteem issues, probably a touch OOC and indulgent. Enjoy. 

Check it out on ao3 too!

Hux wakes up in the tail end of the morning, as he’s fallen into the habit of doing. It’s easy to sleep late, especially when he’s up periodically in the night to pee or indulge his cravings or merely lie in bed, miserably, while the unborn children in his belly decide to throw a party.

Hux sighs heavily when the world comes back to him, first in fuzzy shapes, then a bit clearer. In his sleep, he feels lighter, blissfully removed from reality. But now that he’s awake, the familiar heaviness settles into his body, and he remembers just how large and uncomfortable it’s become.

He blearily looks downwards, placing a palm on the swollen lump visible beneath his bed covers. Grumbling, he peels them away, sticking out his lower lip as he takes in the state of his belly.

Hopelessly round and weighty, just like he’d left it last night. Probably grown imperceptibly bigger in the hours he’s been tossing and turning, if he’s being honest. The pregnancy likes to sneak up on him as he sleeps, taking him unawares and inflating his stomach to grotesque new proportions.

Hux stays on his side, not yet willing to try to sit up or turn around, and looks over his shoulder. Though he knows he probably won’t find what he wants, part of him hopes to see Ben lying there asleep, messy black hair spread all over the pillow, awaiting a couple kisses to wake him up. But no—of course the bed is empty, covers clumsily straightened back into place, with only the faint scent of Ben clinging to the fabric. Hux’s face falls, and he thumps his head back against the pillow. He noses into the hood of the jacket he’s wearing, searching for a stronger source of Ben’s scent. He rarely borrowed his boyfriend’s clothes before, but ever since falling pregnant he’s almost become obsessed with them, especially his outerwear. The one Hux has on right now is one of his favorites—well-worn and soft, emblazoned with Ben’s alma mater and utterly soaked in his smell. The cords of the hoodie tip in little metal aglets, which Hux likes to fidget whenever he’s anxious.

Unfortunately, it’s still no substitute for his boyfriend’s presence.

Bless his heart, Ben tries to take more time off of work. He already has a bit of an irregular schedule, so it’s easier than if he had a nine-to-five job, but still there’s been many times where Hux has needed him and he’s had to leave for one of his sessions. After all, even with Hux on paid leave, Ben has to keep working to save up money for when the twins finally arrive.

Rationally, Hux knows they’ll be fine in terms of finances, with at the very least Ben’s parents helping to foot the bills, but some days it’s just another worry threatening to tip the tottering pile of emotional distress right over.

It doesn’t help that, in moments of extreme weakness, Hux has begun to wonder what Ben sees in him anymore.

He’s become ugly. Utterly undesirable. Hux never considered himself some high standard of omega attractiveness in the first place, what with his underwhelming frame and average looks. Yet somehow, a verifiable heartthrob like Ben, who’d  made an entire career out of sculpting muscles and tightening abs, had found something salvageable there—consequently inspiring Hux to frequent the gym more. Ben had even gifted him a discounted pass, and though it was difficult with his job’s schedule, he’d started to seriously work on his arms and upper body as well as increase his cardiovascular fitness. It’d been a meager improvement, but improvement nonetheless, and Hux had felt he was finally on his way to becoming more worthy of his boyfriend.

Then he’d fallen pregnant.

At the first, joyous outset, the inevitable changes to physical form hadn’t even crossed Hux’s mind. He and Ben had been far too busy scurrying about, planning for the imminent arrival of their children. Hux remembers feeling a little afraid, in that giddy, tickling sort of way, but mostly elated at the thought of finally building a family with the man he’d loved for years. And though he escaped the worst of morning sickness and other typical early pregnancy woes, he’d soon started to change in ways he didn’t feel particularly fond of.

The fact that they were having twins hadn’t helped. He’d rightly blimped up in the middle of his second trimester, and things had only grown worse from there. Now, in the beginning of the third, Hux considers himself a bloated shell of his former self. Like an overfilled water balloon, heavy and ponderous and ready to burst, yet he still has a few months left before their children are born.

Hux hates looking at himself in the mirror anymore, pointedly glancing aside when he has to wash his hands or strip to take a shower. Thanks to his slender frame, he’s never quite had the “typical” body of an omega, but now there’s a new, disconcerting roundness to his thighs and hips, and it doesn’t stop there. The weight gain is obvious all over, even in his face, where his cheeks and chin have grown a little chubbier. And of course his belly is the worst offender—a big pale blob, striated with red marks like he’s been stricken with some kind of infection. He detests washing himself now, but having Ben do it is almost worse—Hux can’t help but imagine he too dislikes every distended inch.

Overall he feels wholly unattractive and overweight, but what’s worse is that he knows it’s normal, that his slim build and short torso probably caused him to carry larger, that he probably needed to gain some weight to remain healthy, but it’s still screwing with his emotions and making him feel like a weak-minded and feeble child.

Even getting out of bed is a chore now. Hux puffs his cheeks out with exertion as he props himself up on one arm and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. His other hand cups the curve of his belly as it settles right atop his upper thighs, obscuring everything below. Hux takes a moment to steel himself, before pushing up hard, using the edge of the nightstand to help steady himself as he swayed to his feet.

Immediately, his ankles smart at the weight. Fantastic.

He ambles from his bedroom to the kitchen as best as he can, forcing himself to go slow though he’s eager to snag a warm drink to help calm his unruly insides. Beneath his sweatshirt, his belly moves, which he almost feels in his kidneys. He’s not totally used to the sensation of something solid shifting inside of him. It’s a nice sensation, considering he knows where it’s coming from, but also a bit unsettling.

“Easy,” Hux whispers hastily to his belly, giving it a small pat as he continues shambling towards the kitchen, his bare feet padding against the tile floor. One of the twins rolls back against his palm but seems to settle after that, leaving Hux a brief respite to grab something for his stomach.

He used to drink those berry protein shakes Ben favored, but thanks to some quirk of pregnancy he can’t even stomach the smell of them now, much less the taste. Ben has to prepare them when Hux is out of the room, or else he’ll gag, something he feels very ashamed and guilty of. Ben has had to shift around so much in his life to accommodate Hux—far too much, in his opinion.

He wishes he hadn’t become such an unsightly burden on his boyfriend.

Hux glumly searches for a mug, finding most of his usual ones in the wash, and finally decides to choose a dark, space-patterned cup that belongs to Ben. It’s part of a collection, actually—nine in total, each emblazoned with a design of one planet in the solar system that only properly appears when it’s filled with hot water. The one Hux finds is Jupiter, like this is some sort of cosmic joke at his expense. That big and ugly red mark certainly sticks out in a similar way as his belly button, and his children do love to kick up a storm inside him. Perhaps it’s more fitting than he wants to admit.

Hux sets the mug on the counter before filling the hot water kettle and flipping it on. He waddles over to the cupboard, scrounging for the brand of decaf tea Ben bought him recently. It’s a blend that’s supposed to help his stomach, yet Hux isn’t all too fond of it. It has a strange taste, reminiscent of anise, but he’s sipped worse. At this point, he’s grateful for anything that helps him relax.

He drapes two tea bags into the mug, resting his hip against the edge of the counter as he waits for the water to boil. When he glances over to the clock on the oven, he finds it’s a lot later than he thought—past noon, in fact. Lord, he’s really let himself go, hasn’t he? Before, when he still had the energy and ability to go into the office, he would wake up every day at six o’clock and run through his meticulous morning routine with ease. Now, he can hardly drag himself out of bed for a cup of tea before it officially becomes the afternoon.

On the counter sits a stack of mail Ben had presumably brought in before leaving for work, and to Hux’s dismay he sees one of those detestable maternity magazines sitting right at the top. He’d told Ben to cancel their subscription but he must not have gotten around to it yet. At first, Hux had wanted to read all he could about pregnancy, absorb any tips and tricks from other expecting couples, but as the pregnancy wore on he’d soured on these publications. Pure drivel— nothing but pages and pages of omegas showing off fake smiles and fashionable sweaters and blouses and cute, petite baby bumps. Doing yoga and eating salad with their airbrushed skin and snug Lululemon leggings. Idiots. They have no idea what a special kind of suffering it is to lug around a pair of Ben Solo-sized offspring.

Hux hates them.

The kettle pings behind him, a little jet of steam streaming from the spout. Hux nudges himself off the counter, grabbing the mug and carefully pouring the water into it. He lets out a small yawn, the passable scent of the tea filling his nose as he sets the kettle aside and carefully lifts the mug.

He’s ready to settle into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and fritter the rest of the day away, at least until Ben returns, when one of the twins suddenly shifts and kicks him hard in the diaphragm.

“Ah!” Hux shouts, one hand clamping to the side of his belly, the surprise and pain causing him to lose his grip on the mug and sending it crashing to the floor. Hux flinches at the sound of shattering ceramic, unable to even see where it’s fallen or how badly the cup has broken with the bloat of his belly in the way. He hunches over, trembling hand braced against the edge of the counter as he takes several deep breaths, suddenly feeling his lungs tighten even as the smarting pain of his pup’s movement ebbs away. Hux grits his teeth in frustration, feeling warmth rise up in his cheeks. He can’t even make a cup of tea without messing up, can he? He doesn’t even get to have that, does he?

Screw it. Hux throws up his hands, leaving the mess on the floor and stomping to the living room. With tears building in his eyes, he flops himself down sideways on the couch and curls his legs up as best as he can manage. Even lying down, his belly still sticks obtrusively in front of him, like a taunt. He tosses an arm over his eyes, not wanting to look at it any longer.

Hux stays that way for a long while, sniffling, trying to phase into the couch cushions so maybe he won’t have to occupy the physical body he hates for a moment longer, until the door to their apartment clicks. The tell-tale heavy, measured footsteps that could only belong to Ben follow. Hux curls up tighter, hugging his other arm around his waist, anticipating—

“Armie? You in here?’ There it is.

Hux puffs pathetic breath through his lips, wishing he could pretend to be asleep and avoid a conversation he does not want to have right now. Yet Ben always has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to his boyfriend’s distress levels, and in a moment he’s poking his head around the corner from the kitchen, eyes immediately falling on Hux.

“You okay?” Ben asks, the rest of his body promptly following. Hux grimaces once he sees those broad pecs and sculpted shoulders, just barely concealed beneath a compression shirt spotted with perspiration. Ben’s whipped his damp hair back in a messy bun, and his cheeks are a little flushed. He must’ve just come out of a training session—most likely with one of his more athletic clients, if he’d broken a sweat. Training post-op patients or middle-aged ladies isn’t exactly so strenuous.

“What’s up? Is something wrong?” Ben asks again, placing his tennis shoes atop the little metal rack near the floor before padding on over. Hux averts his eyes and nibbles his lower lip, not wanting to talk about it. If he does, he feels like he might start to cry again, and he doesn’t want to act so disgracefully in front of his boyfriend.

But Ben is notoriously bad at leaving him alone. He crosses the living room and kneels at Hux’s side, the smell of sweat and deodorant following him.

“Can you tell me what happened? Is it the twins?”

Hux shakes his head quickly. Irrationally upset as he is, he doesn’t want his boyfriend over-worrying about the twins. Ben looks relieved.

“That’s good. Are you just sore again or something? I can run you a bath or rub you down if you want.”

Hux shakes his head again, now frustrated with Ben’s niceness, his willingness to give him all that he doesn’t deserve. Ultimately the longer this drags on, the more silly he feels, so he ends up just blurting it out.

“I broke one of your mug,” he states, fiddling with one of the hoodie’s cords. “I’m sorry.”

“I saw,” Ben replies slowly, resting his hand on Hux’s shoulder and stroking it with his thumb, “it’s okay. It broke into big pieces, so I think I can fix it.”

That should be a relief to Hux, should help to ease his guilt over breaking one of Ben’s favorite mugs, but it doesn’t.

“You shouldn’t have to fix it.” He can hear his voice wavering, but tries to keep pushing the words out. “I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place, but this one—” he points accusingly at the side of his belly, “—jabbed me and it really hurt!”

Hux’s voice breaks on the last word as he rapidly blinks his eyelids, trying to prematurely stave off tears. It had hurt, he’d been so shocked at the sudden punch of pain in his side. He’s doing his best to carry his children, and it feels like they already didn’t like him, already want to harm him. Like he isn’t doing enough and this is his preemptive punishment for being a rotten father.

“It’s just a cup,” Ben tries to soothe, but Hux can feel himself already working up to hysteria. He can’t stop himself, and even as his boyfriend tries to quiet him his breath starts to hitch in distress.

“This is miserable. I’m already such a failure of a parent...and a partner...I can’t even be left alone without ruining things. Everything feels r-ruined.”

Ben presses his lips together, eyebrows following suit. He lets the silence settle between them, broken only by Hux’s messy whimpering, before speaking up.

“It’s not about the cup, is it?”

It wouldn’t surprise Hux if he did cry over something as silly as a cup. But no, it’s not just about that, of course. And when Ben asks him so earnestly, in that soft voice of his, as if Hux could admit to murder and he would still understand, he can’t help but let it out. Unwilling tears spill over his cheeks as he lets out a damp sniffle.

“Look at me. Look how large I’ve gotten. I’m disgusting,” Hux hisses miserably, scrubbing at his eyes. “And foolish. Crying like this. I should just accept how horrible I look, and not winge on about it.”

“Strawberry, everything you just said was totally wrong.” Ben flinches as Hux whacks his arm, glaring. “I—wait, let me rephrase that—”

“What?” Hux growls, annoyed despite the use of his favored pet name.

“It’s just…” Ben sighs, moving his hand up and down his boyfriend’s upper arm. “You’re not disgusting. You don’t look horrible, and it’s alright if sometimes you need to cry. Okay?”

“You don’t need to lie. It’s grotesque. Obviously no one could ever find...this attractive.” Hux gestures at his horribly swollen belly. He must look even more pathetic, his eyes inflamed with tears and his cheeks puffy and stained. “Especially not someone like you.”

Ben frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hux huffs through wet, wibbling lips. Did Ben not understand? To him, it was obvious.

“Because you’re...I dont know…you’re so….you,” Hux finishes lamely, but seems to get his point across when he gestures at Ben’s bared shoulders. “Strong. Fit.”

“It’s my job to be...me,” Ben starts cautiously, rubbing Hux’s arm. “But it’s your job to keep the twins safe until they’re ready, and I think you’re doing pretty great at that.”

“Yes, yes. I just wish I didn’t look so….plump and slovenly in the interim,” Hux grimaces as Ben wipes at his tears with his other hand, though he doesn’t swat him away. “Whenever we go out together...it feels like people are thinking you’re too good for me.” Even when they’re buying things for the baby, or even mere grocery shopping, this kind of doubt lingers in Hux’s mind. Surely there’s plenty of fit, slender, protein-guzzling omegas his boyfriend would rather breed with?

“You don’t have to be like me,” Ben soothes, “I don’t want you to be exactly like me, if you don’t want to.”

“So you’re saying you find this attractive?” Hux rubs his hand against the side of his belly, disbelieving. Ben’s eyes darken, and an uneven smirk picks at his lips.

“Very. Did all the sex we were having not convince you?”

“I figured you were just giving me what I wanted because I wouldn’t stop bothering you…” Hux groans, though he feels a bit less disconsolate than he had before. As his alpha, Ben has a calming effect on him, his words easily assuaging all his most dreadful fears. But apparently, he’s not content with just verbally comforting him.

Ben starts unzipping his hoodie, and though Hux’s fingers twitch to stop him, to hide his body from his boyfriend’s eyes, he stops himself and instead fists them into the fabric. He watches Ben pull the zipper down over his chest, then over his middle, until the garment hangs completely open over his pale skin. Hux shivers softly, cheeks glowing as Ben carefully pushes it apart, exposing the immense swell of his belly.

Hux instinctively grimaces at the sight, but Ben doesn’t wait for his complaints, instead leaning in and pressing a kiss to the side of his stomach, working a little trail down. He shivers at his boyfriend’s softness, the way he flatters every inch of his skin he can reach with his mouth and the careful cradle of his palm. Ben even kisses those awful red stretch marks that won’t fade no matter how much lotion he uses. When he gets near his protruding belly button, Hux feels one of the twins shift, pushing out the skin just below his boyfriend’s lips.

“Hmph.” Ben snorts softly against his stomach. “Afternoon to you guys too.”

“They like you a lot,” Hux whispers, heart jittering each time Ben presses a kiss to his skin. “They’re always excited to feel you.”

“I’m excited to feel them too,” Ben sighs happily, brushing his cheek against the side of Hux’s belly as he lightly rests his head. His soulful brown eyes drift up to Hux’s face, imploring.

“You believe me a little more now?” He steals one last, sideways kiss against Hux’s skin. “Or do I need to do some more convincing?”

Hux hates to admit how easily Ben gets him to melt and forget his woes. It’s almost sad, how they flee so quickly whenever he’s around with his soft words and gentle touches, only to creep back whenever Hux is alone. Ben really needs to negotiate some more spare time around his training sessions, especially as they get closer to the due date.

“I suppose if you thought I was ugly, you wouldn’t be lavishing kisses all over me,” Hux admits with a fond sigh, ruffling his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “Though you do give affection away as readily as an oversized puppy…”

Ben lets out a soft, playful chuff and shakes his hair in response. That gets Hux properly chuckling, before he quiets, consumed with the unwashed sleekness of his boyfriend’s hair. Eventually, Ben lifts his head off of Hux’s belly, though he keeps close so he can continue petting him.

“I think you’d be more comfortable on the bed, or in the bath.” Ben leans in to steal a quick kiss from Hux’s lips, even as they sour into a frown.

“Ideally, but it took quite a bit of effort to get all the way over here. I don’t particularly want to wobble back to the bedroom at the moment.” Hux had just dispelled the worries over his appearance. He doesn’t want them rekindled too quickly.

“Alright, I’ll carry you. No big deal.” Ben rethreads his ponytail, before rising up into a crouch. Hux’s eyebrows shoot up in alarm.

“Ben, wait, I don’t think—” He yelps as his boyfriend slides his hands underneath his body, cradling his knees and upper back as he hefts him up in his arms. Hux scrabbles, expecting Ben to falter and drop his cumbersome body to the floor, but he holds firm. Muscles in Ben’s chest and arms bulge out as he supports his boyfriend with little effort, lips parting in a breathless smirk.

“See? Doesn’t matter how big you are, strawberry, as long as I’m strong enough to lift you.” Hux rolls his eyes, swatting Ben’s chest in rebuke for his sentimentality, but relaxing into his steady embrace ever the same.

“It won’t be so easy when they’re born and growing. I expect you to be able to carry all three of us then, you beast,” Hux replies as he leans his head on Ben’s shoulder, letting his boyfriend tow him back to the bedroom. He feels a chuckle rumbles throughout Ben’s chest, muscles flexing in confidence.

“Think I’ll be up for the challenge.”

[wordsintimeandspace]

In Disguise (2/4?)

Author: @wordsintimeandspace Pairing: Ten/Rose Summary: On the planet Aspao, the Doctor and Rose work together to unravel a mystery in the royal palace. At the same time, they struggle to keep their own secrets - they not only have to hide their relationship, but also their telepathic bond. Rating: Teen Words: ~2600

Read on tumblr or AO3!

Rose nearly expected to be led into a pompous throne room, but instead, they stepped into a wide room with high ceilings that contained a library as well as an office in the far back. While the king wasn’t wearing a crown, he still had an aura of authority around him that made it clear who he was. He awaited them in the office, clad in an expensive, tailored suit, his light purple scales shining in the light from the window behind him.

They came to a stop in front of the desk. Rose’s breath hitched as the king’s gaze swept over them, careful and attentive, as if he could uncover all their secrets with just a glance. In the posh surroundings, Rose suddenly felt out of place. She nervously fiddled with the hem of her T-shirt, wishing she’d worn something a little more fancy and fitting for her role. But the king’s face relaxed after a short inspection.

“Detective Smith, Detective Tyler,” Zaen said in a low, rumbling voice. “It’s good to see that someone could already come around. I didn’t expect anyone to be here for another week.”

“Oh, just call me the Doctor,” the Doctor said, shaking Zaen’s hand. “And this is Rose.”

“Hi,” Rose smiled. “And yes, we’re a bit early. Thought it might be important.”

Zaen let out a sigh. “Well, it might be. I am not entirely sure what to make of it yet. I’m hopeful to get some insights from you.”

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” the Doctor said. “Tell us what happened.”

“Of course. Follow me, it’ll be best if I show you.”

They followed the king through the castle and he began to explain. “A few days ago, something vanished from the vault,” he started. “We don’t know how they got in. There is absolutely no sign of a forced entry, and no sign that someone sneaked into the castle beforehand.”

“Is the bridge the only way to get into the castle?” Rose asked as they descended the stairs. Further and further down they went.

“Yes. The way over the mountains is difficult, and it would have been impossible during the storms we had last week.”

“So if no one could get in, unless they tricked the guards at the bridge…” the Doctor piped up, not finishing the sentence.

Zaen’s shoulders slumped. “It looks like it’s been someone from the inside, yes,” he said. “The thing is, I trust everyone in this castle. I trust the guards, I trust the staff, I trust my advisers. And my family, of course. And, even if it was someone I’m familiar with, we don’t know how they managed to get past this.”

By now, they had reached the bottom of the stairs. The natural light coming in through the windows had been replaced by cold neon lights shining down from the ceiling. The stairs ended in a broad, rectangular room. At the far end was a huge metallic door. The entrance to the vault. There was no door handle and the metal gleamed in the light as if it had never gotten a single scratch.

“So, how do you get in there?” the Doctor asked, pulling out his glasses from the pocket. He stepped closer, inspecting the door and the scanner next to it.

“Only authorized people get in. Currently that’s me, my daughter and the captain of the guard.”

“Princess Sanyah? And the captain who brought us in?”

Zaen nodded. “Exactly. They say they haven’t been in the vault, and I believe them.”

The whirring of the sonic screwdriver sounded through the room as the Doctor ran it over the scanner. “Iris scan and… huh. What’s the second one?” he asked, frowning at the results.

The king smirked. “Iris and scales. Every Aspaon has a unique pattern and colour on their cheeks.” He stepped forward. A red light swept over him and a second later the scanner let out a beep. With a hiss, the door in front of them opened.

“Sounds pretty secure to me,” Rose said and the Doctor nodded.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Can you be sure it wasn’t the captain of the guard? The prospect of wealth can make people do things you never thought possible.”

“That’s the thing, Doctor,” Zaen said, gesturing them to follow him into the vault. “Have a look around.”

Rose wasn’t sure what she’d expected. Empty showcases maybe, broken glass, chaos after the thief dug through the treasures. But instead, the jewels and diamonds on display took her breath away. Glass cases were filled with crowns and diadems and necklaces, golden and silver coins, colourful gemstones and pearls that glittered in the soft lighting. All neatly arranged, nothing out of order. Rose frowned as she slowly stepped further into the room, letting her gaze wander over all the treasures. Nothing seemed to be missing.

“What was stolen, exactly?” the Doctor asked, sounding as baffled as Rose felt.

“Compared to all the other things the thief had access to, nothing valuable. Money wasn’t the motive,” Zaen said, crossing the room. In the back, one of the cases had several drawers underneath. He opened the last one, revealing a collection of glittering stones. One spot right in the middle was empty.

“Father!”

Startled by the voice behind them, Rose whirled around. A woman stepped into the vault, slightly out of breath. She smoothed her skirts with her hands. The gown was a rich burgundy colour, complementing the pastel purple of her scales. With her delicate features and large, sparkling eyes, Princess Sanyah really was beautiful.

“What’s going on here?” she asked, moving her gaze from the Doctor to Rose and back.

“This are the Doctor and Rose,” Zaen explained. “Two detectives to help us solve the theft.”

Sanyah frowned, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Do you really think that’s necessary? Surely the two detectives have better things to do than search for a rock.”

“Well, no, not at the moment,” the Doctor said with a grin. “In fact, this whole thing is quite intriguing. Sorry, did you say the object that was stolen was a rock?” He raised his eyebrows.

Zaen huffed. “A little more than just a rock. But essentially, yes. It was a meteorite that fell onto Aspao a few years ago. It contained a mineral called Ocrum.”

“Ocrum? I think I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s very common in other parts of the galaxy,” Sanyah said. “Which makes it not exactly valuable.”

“It must have some kind of value if you’re keeping it in the vault,” Rose said, blinking at her in confusion.

“While it’s common in other solar systems, in this one it isn’t,” Zaen continued. “In places where it’s common, people have the technology to harvest power from it. It’s used to fuel different kinds of tech on other planets. In case we ever encounter some of this alien tech we decided to keep the meteorite.”

“Huh.” The Doctor scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “So you currently don’t have the technology to harvest the power?”

Sanyah shook her head. “No, we don’t. I’ve seen some of it while I was going to university, a few star systems away, but… not here.”

“So…” Rose started, the wheels in her head turning. “That means on this planet, you can’t do anything with it, and when you try to sell it to planets who have the right technology, you won’t make much money because it’s so common there?”

“That’s basically it, yes,” Sanyah confirmed with a sigh.

“Why would someone steal it then?” Rose asked, completely baffled. “Especially from this vault, with all the other things in here.”

“We don’t know,” Zaen said. “That’s exactly why you’re here.”

“I’m still not sure if it’s necessary,” Sanyah said, fiddling with the hem of her gown. “I don’t want to keep you away from more important things. Like we said, nothing valuable was stolen. We nearly didn’t notice something was missing at all. There’s no emergency.”

“Well, someone still managed to get into your vault,” the Doctor pointed out, one eyebrow raised. “That could count as an emergency.”

Sanyah let out a long breath. “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she admitted, a little reluctantly.

“When is the last time you saw the meteorite?”

“The last inventory was ten days ago. We discovered it was missing last week, and since then, we’ve been searching everyone leaving the castle.”

“Did the captain of the guard leave the castle in the few days in between?” Rose asked. “I know you said you trust him, but he still could’ve done it.”

“No, he wasn’t even here. It was his week off.” Zaen shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but there has to be a different answer. There’s something we’re still missing.”

Silence fell between them. Rose’s head was swimming with all the information, all the questions. She couldn’t see any answers. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, frowning. Apparently he was at a loss of words as well.

“What are you going to do?” Sanyah eventually asked, voice low and uncertain.

“Well…” The Doctor took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. “I’d like a list of people close to you who are living in the castle. Anyone who might have gotten information how to get into the vault. I’d like to talk to them, maybe have a look around in their quarters. If we find an indication of why someone would steal the meteorite, we’ll know who did it as well.”

A hint of concern crossed Sanyah’s face, but she quickly schooled her features. Beside her, Zaen nodded. “Of course. We’ll get you the information and you can start the investigation tomorrow. It’s getting late though. For now, please join us for dinner. I’ll tell the staff to set up quarters for you.”

~~~

The food served during dinner was delicious and plentiful, but it was still a tedious affair. Rose couldn’t relax, not when she and the Doctor were busy spinning lies about their lives and had to hold back all the small signs of affection they usually displayed. More than once Rose caught herself as she reached out to the Doctor to take his hand or touch his arm. One time when it was particularly close, with her fingers already brushing his elbow before she quickly pulled back, the Doctor shot her an apologizing look. He squeezed her knee under her table, reassuring her shortly before letting go.

Even after dinner, they didn’t get a chance to be alone. A servant brought Rose to her room and she only caught a glance at the Doctor’s back as he was led into a different corridor.

When she was finally in bed, Rose tossed and turned as she tried to fall asleep. While they were busy during the day, she was distracted enough to blend out the lack of the Doctor’s mind in her head. But now, alone in her room with only darkness around her, she longed for the connection, the comforting embrace of his consciousness around hers. She hadn’t realized how much it calmed her until it was gone.

She groaned, turning on her stomach and pressing her face into the pillow. The room was too quiet. Not only was the hum of the TARDIS missing, but also the Doctor’s soft breaths next to her. The sound of his heartbeats as she rested her head on his chest. Just as she turned another time, a tap against her window made her flinch.

With her heart racing in her chest Rose leaped out of bed. Two more taps, a little more urgent this time. Holding her breath, Rose grabbed the lamp from the bedside as an impromptu weapon, crossed the room to the window and pulled back the curtains.

“Doctor!” she exclaimed, staring at the Time Lord balancing on the windowsill outside, pressed close against the glass. At the panicky expression in his eyes she quickly opened the window and grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room. The Doctor tumbled to the floor and scrambled to his feet.

“Are you all right?” Rose asked, looking him up and down.

“I’m fine,” the Doctor grinned, squeezing her hand. A second later, Rose threw herself into his arms.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he held her tight. He couldn’t hide the concern in his voice.

Rose nodded against his chest. “Just missed you,” she mumbled, tightening her grip around him. “Couldn’t fall asleep without you.”

“Well, good thing I’m here now, don’t you think?” The Doctor pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She yelped as he swept her into his arms and carried her over to the bed.

“Why are you here exactly?” she asked with a smile as he set her down on the mattress before toeing off his trainers and joining her. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Can’t have you sleep all alone, can I?” The Doctor let out a content hum as he lay down next to her, pulling her back into his embrace. “And maybe I missed you too.”

“And you thought the best way to sneak into my room was through the window?”

“I tried to go through the corridors first, but I ran into a group of guards. Now they all think I’m sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking in your suit?” Rose grinned against his chest.

“Yes, well, I’m not sure how convinced they were, but at least they didn’t ask any questions. Had to take the way over the windowsills though. Bit wobbly with that breeze outside.”

“That would’ve been tricky to explain if you’d fell and regenerated.”

“Rose! Have a bit of faith in me, will you?” the Doctor protested, poking a finger into her side.

Rose giggled, finally relaxing under his touch. She pushed herself up to capture his lips. “I always have faith in you,” she said between kisses. The Doctor pulled her closer, his hands roaming over her back and her legs, making arousal flare in her belly. But despite her excitement, Rose couldn’t hide how tired she was. When the Doctor let go of her lips to nip at her neck, a yawn escaped her mouth. The Doctor pushed himself up, hovering above her. His eyes twinkled with amusement.

“You’re not bored, are you?” he asked.

“Sorry,” Rose said, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m so exhausted.”

The Doctor’s face fell. “My fault,” he said quietly, drawing his eyebrows together. “It’s a huge mental strain, having a severed telepathic bond. No wonder you’re exhausted.”

“And you aren’t?” Rose asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his forehead.

The Doctor settled back down next to her, wrapping his arm around her. “I could do with a kip,” he admitted.

Rose closed her eyes and grinned. “Then let’s do that. You can have your way with me in the morning.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” the Doctor replied with a smile in his voice. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. With the Doctor’s presence calming her, sleep was finally crawling up on Rose. But there was one thing she still couldn’t get out of her head.

“The princess,” she mumbled, already half incoherent.

“What about her?” the Doctor whispered, shifting slightly beside her.

“I think something is wrong. She didn’t- she wasn’t happy that we were here to help, was she?”

The Doctor let out a thoughtful hum. “We’ll talk to her in the morning,” he said quietly. “Get some rest now, Rose.”

And with that, Rose finally drifted off to sleep.

[samwpmarleau]

strange bedfellows: prelude

No matter how much they make love, Rhaegar’s seed will not quicken, and Elia is desperate for an heir with Aerys as her good-father. (x)

“I’m sure of it this time, Maester. I haven’t bled for two moons now.”

He is paid well, she knows, for in his face there is no annoyance or pity, only encouragement. “Well, let’s have a look.”

She had been sure, and even the maester hadn’t been able to conclusively refute her findings, but weeks continue to pass with no change, and then one morning Elia awakened to find her sheets spotted with blood—a normal amount, a monthly amount, nothing to indicate a lost child. Which would have been devastating, but at least then she’d know it was only a matter of time.

It’s been five years since she and Rhaegar wed, five years of regularly taking him into her bed and praying until her throat ran hoarse that she would finally bear his heir. The whispers have been growing stronger for ages: when they’re not about her health, they’re about how she must be broken, how it’s her fault nothing is quickening, how it serves the crown right for choosing a Dornishwoman as Rhaegar’s bride.

She grows sad at that. Throughout it all, he’s never once been unkind to her, nor blamed her, simply came to do his duty. But in the last year or two, she’s begun to see the strain, for he, too, feels the pressure behind needing a child. Especially with Aerys growing madder by the hour, in case anything happened to Rhaegar in the meanwhile, it’s imperative he leave a legacy.

Greeting the dawn, Elia wanders through the dreary halls of Dragonstone until she reaches Aegon’s Garden. Being winter, nothing especially beautiful is growing, but it’s quiet, and the plants don’t snicker at her. She sits on one of the stone benches, staring into the sparse flowerbeds and wondering what exactly would happen if she never bore Rhaegar a child. Oh, she’d be set aside, surely, but then what? Back to Sunspear to see if there are any men left who want a prince’s cast-off? Or else she’d live out her days as nothing more than an aunt, nothing to show for her efforts but failure.

The scent of iron and leather passes over her, and with a jolt she looks up at the passerby, only relaxing when she recognizes the face. A comely one, it has to be said, though usually always solemn. “Ser Arthur, what brings you here?”

“I have a gift for you, princess,” he says. In one of his hands he has a single wildflower bloom, bright yellow with a sunburst of white at the center. “Mother always said the brightest flowers bloom when winter is at its fiercest.”

“Ever the romantic, your mother.” She takes the flower from him anyway, twirling it between her fingers. “Is there some occasion I’ve missed?”

“No occasion, only a flower I happened upon and a maiden who looked like she might need it.”

His use of happened upon has her sighing. “Rhaegar sent you after me, didn’t he?”

“In a fashion,” he admits. “He wishes to speak with us and I knew where to find you.” At her confusion, he elaborates, “You used to hide away for hours in the gardens of Sunspear when you were unwell. You do the same here.”

Elia blinks, surprised at the information. She’d never told him that. Then again, there’s not much she has told him. They’d not spent a lot of time together during his squireship, what with having different interests and him engaged in training more often than not. He was always polite, though, she remembers that.

“What is it that ails you?” he asks.

“What usually ails me? I thought I was pregnant, again, and I’m not. Aerys grows madder by the hour, and I can’t give the realm a prince. Not for lack of trying, mind.”

He seems unsure of what to say to that. “Well, mayhaps Rhaegar has good news for you.”

She can’t possibly imagine what news would assuage her worries, but she has nothing to lose by meeting with him either. She and Arthur make their way to Rhaegar’s solar; as they enter, she can tell from the grave expression on Rhaegar’s face that this will not be the pleasant visit Arthur had proposed. They are both invited to sit.

“I hold the two of you in too high of regard to mince words, so let me get to it,” Rhaegar begins. “I need an heir. That much is for certain, as is the fact that thus far there has been no sign of one.” Elia flushes, but Rhaegar’s tone softens. “This is no aspersion on you. My mother had troubles conceiving after me, and when her womb did quicken, more often than not the child didn’t live long. But there is a decision that needs to be made.”

She knows where this is going. “I understand what you must do.”

“I very much doubt that,” says Rhaegar. “Many would say I must find a new wife, but I am not so callous, nor am I so sure that is the best solution. I’ve spoken candidly with the maester, who mentioned that sometimes it is…sometimes the deficiency does not lie with the wife. I’m quite fond of you, Elia. Your counsel and your company have been invaluable to me, and I don’t want to send you away, especially if you are not the problem.”

Her confusion only deepens. “What are you saying? You wish to try with someone new?”

She’d almost suggested it herself, more than once. It’s not a thought she ever particularly liked to entertain, but it was hardly without precedent. Fewer kings didn’t take mistresses than those who did.

“No. I want you to.”

For a moment, she’s as perplexed as ever. And then Rhaegar’s meaning hits her like a spear. She looks from Rhaegar to the seated Kingsguard, aghast. “Arthur? You want me to take Arthur as a paramour?”

Judging by how white Arthur has gone, he’d had no idea this was coming either. “Sire, I don’t—I don’t understand.”

“There are no options for me to pursue a woman outside the bonds of marriage without publicly declaring that bastards can now be in line for the throne, and I have no intention of following in Aegon the Unworthy’s footsteps.”

“How is this any different?” Elia asks weakly.

“Because no one would know.” Not bothering to restrain a grimace, he continues, “My heir would not be of my blood, it is true, but what other recourse do I have? I fear Viserys is more like our father than anyone would like, and I would rather impale myself than risk my pugnacious cousin of Storm’s End getting anywhere near the throne.”

“Why me?” Arthur asks from beside her. “I respect you, Your Grace, but this is…you want me to break my vows in the most egregious of ways. They would be shattered beyond repair. My integrity, my honor, everything.”

“I know,” says Rhaegar. “But you are the only one I would trust with this. And also…forgive me, but pragmatically, you are the only one. No matter what comes through, the child would look either Targaryen or Martell. There would be little room for suspicion.”

Arthur stares at his lap, as if to hide his damning purple eyes. All Rhaegar says is true, of course. Though Arthur has the pitch-black hair of his mother, his late father’s was a sandy blond. Outwardly, any feature could, theoretically, be passed off as inherited from Rhaegar.

For as much as her husband is concerned for her, Elia’s concern lies more for Arthur. Her part in all of this would not be particularly difficult. Arthur is kind, the brother of her dearest friend whom she’s known for most of her life, and not hard to look upon either. While she dislikes the underhanded, twisted nature of the situation, physically it would be no hard task to lie with him.

But Arthur…he would be going against every oath he’d sworn. He would father a babe he could never claim, carry the burden of knowing the future of House Targaryen would be borne of no Targaryen at all.

“You need not give me an answer now,” hastens Rhaegar, seeing Arthur’s burgeoning resentment. “Just please think on it.”

Arthur leaves the room so abruptly that his chair is nearly knocked over. The door slams, and Elia fixes Rhaegar with a withering glare. “You ask too much.”

“I did not come to this decision lightly,” he says. “You think I want to call as my heir a child that isn’t even mine? You think I want to spend every day praying rumors don’t spread? You think I want to face the possibility that it is I who’s barren? It’s shameful every way around. Yet what are my alternatives?” He runs a hand over his face, looking far older than his twenty-six years would suggest. “Do I ask too much of you?”

“Me? My life has not been easy, Rhaegar, but I do not think this needs to be counted amongst my trials. It is not me you should worry for.”

“Do you think he will accept?”

“I can’t say,” she replies honestly. “You’ve known him half your life—what do you think?”

For once, Rhaegar looks at a loss.

A week later, she is once more called into his solar; she’s alone, this time, which gives her a sense of foreboding. “You have received an answer, then?”

“Arthur has agreed. He told me this morning.”

“Just like that?”

“Not entirely. He did have one stipulation.”

“Which was?”

Rhaegar doesn’t have any particular expression on his face other than resignation. “If it works, he says he will wait until the baby’s born, to be sure of its health. After which, he has requested to be stationed back in the Red Keep and have Ser Oswell come to Dragonstone in his stead.”

“I didn’t realize he was so eager to leave.”

“He wasn’t,” Rhaegar says. “He doesn’t want to be around the child in case of a resemblance. I accepted, of course. It was a noble request.”

“Oh. Yes, that is very noble. How soon are we to begin?”

“I would rather not know the details,” Rhaegar says, “but the sooner the better.”

Tonight, then. She can’t help but feel rather like a broodmare. “I suppose you may tell him that I’ll see him later this evening.”

“Very well.”

The tension is too much to bear, and she excuses herself back to her chambers. Absurdly, her only clear thought is:

What shall I wear?

Part 2

[wheaterz]

Little Talks

>Are you awake?

Mel heard the faint ‘blip’ of her laptop from across the dim room. It was late, raining, and cool with the wind making the house around her creak. She sat curled up in a plush quilt on an old couch with a glass of bourbon to her lips. It had been a lonely night, so she was happy to hear the message from her computer. Her roommate was out on a job and she wouldn’t be back for a couple of days. With one last glance at the water pouring from the sky outside her patio door, which she’d purposely left open a crack for the fresh air, Mel brought herself to her feet and made her way over to her desk. She could feel the cold floor underneath her socks, but she wouldn’t be long. She had every intention of bringing the laptop back with her over to the couch.

On the screen of her laptop was a small, blue square in the corner with a history of texts on it from her previous conversations with the other side. It was all very plain, but it was the simplicity that helped. Not only was it a concept she well grasped as far as software programs were concerned, but it read Aperture loud and clear with hardly any delay. With the laptop rested on the arm of the couch, she typed back.

- I’m here.

>That was a test, go to sleep.

- No.

>That was the real test, you passed.

-I’m afraid you’ve lost me, dear.

>I want to talk and I know you can just sleep in tomorrow.

Well, that was a fairly blunt way of putting it. Mel sighed, remembering that she hadn’t yet discovered a job within her new-found community, and it was becoming a little frustrating. Most things that had to do with computers she was bad at, and this new world was heavily reliant on it. Now, she was a fast learner, but when the cash register has ten-millions different options on its touch screen to go through things became a little muddled. Press AE and it will take you to the discount screen, only some discounts were only available for short times, so one would be replaced with another… Oh, did you make so many mistakes that the register locked you out? Please ask your manager for assistance.

Even with how minimalistic their town was in the sad state the world was in, cashiering somehow survived the apocalypse.

It was all very degrading. She was an Olympic Champion of her day, for crying out loud.

>You’re upset. Was it something I said?

Mel blinked, realizing she’d taken a while to respond when she was lost in thought and bit her lip.

-No, it wasn’t you. Don’t worry about it. The storm is just keeping me up.

>Okay.

>Want to talk about it?

Virgil really wasn’t the type of person for taking a hint. You really had to drill most points into him, but maybe for once she was glad for this. Giving in, her shoulders relaxed and she began typing.

-Adjusting has been difficult. I knew it would be, but I suppose no matter how prepared I was I couldn’t have foreseen the way I feel right now. Which is to say… useless. I think I finally have a full understanding of why you didn’t want to leave.

>Took you long enough.

-Be nice.

>Look, you are far from useless and you know it. I’m not going to take you wallowing in a self-pity-party sitting down.

-Excuse you, Mister, I absolutely am not wallowing in pity.

-Ah yeah? What were you doing before I logged on?

-Sitting.

>And?

-Drinking.

-Tea.

-Drinking hot tea.

>Gotcha.

Virgil absolutely infuriated Mel sometimes, but maybe that was because she knew he was right. Curling further under her quilt of warmth she glanced around the room she’d made her home and how she’d neglected to tidy up the place for a bit. It was strange how even though she was bored out of her mind and had all the time in the world, even the smallest thing seemed to be an uphill climb. Granted, she was much happier out here than she would have been stuck down in Aperture, and she was even more grateful for not just being plain dead, but it would be nice if things went a little smoother than they were now.

>Lets change the subject then.

Thank goodness for small blessings… and apparently Virgil’s newly formed telepathy.

>Things have been a little less quiet recently.

-Anything I should be concerned about?

>No, not at all. One of the other cores has pitched that we have holidays. We’re all supposed to send in ideas of what kind of holiday we’d want, since human holidays are kind of meaningless down here. Apparently we’ve reached the brim of boredom for this to be a thing now.

-Well that sounds like a bang up time, don’t you think?

>Not really? That means fun, right? Anyway, I’m not casting any votes in but I did make the mistake of offering to manage them, so now I have a whole file on my computer of different ideas that were sent my way.

-What do they say then?

>Laundry Day.

-You are the only core that has clothes. How can there be a laundry day?

>In definition, they suggested Laundry Day be when we burn a pile of leftover test subject jumpsuits for giggles.

-Ah. Oodles of fun.

>Yeah, oodles. There’s also Sleepmode Day, Rail Day, Turret Concert Day, Hide-and-Seek Day…

-There’s a Hide-and-Seek day?

>That’s actually a pretty common game down here. It takes weeks.

-That’s cute.

>My favorite of these, so far, is Explosion Day.

-Rick?

>Rick.

-Any other news?

>Um…

>Got my core shell solar power enhancements, so that’s nice.

-Very fancy. Do you still plan on returning to it?

>Honestly, not sure, but fixing all the things I disliked about myself has been a nice pastime, albeit a strange one.

-How so?

>Imagine doing open surgery on yourself.

-Oh, well, that is strange when you put it that way.

>Only an itty, bitty bit. I’ve been through stranger, no thanks to you.

-I’m honored you think so highly of me.

>I actually can’t tell if that’s sarcasm or not.

Melanie grinned, despite herself. It was strange how a little robot miles upon miles away from her could still manage to make her smile. She was glad for the conversation, and it put her more at ease than she had been a little while prior to their window chat, and the bourbon was finally setting in. Mel put a hand to her mouth and yawned.

-I feel ready to attempt sleeping again. It was lovely of you to keep me company, Virgil.

>Hey, Mel. Hold up a moment.

Normally when she said she was ready to fall asleep he was quick to let her go, so to be stopped so suddenly was abnormal. Of course she wasn’t going to turn him down, even if she was inches from slumber.

-Yes?

>Even if you don’t find anything right away you deserve some time to yourself. More than anyone. Give yourself a breather. I find it hard to believe that you survived as much as you have and there isn’t a place for you up there somewhere waiting. Just… take your time. Don’t stress it. It’ll come up eventually.

-You sound so sure.

>Really, any other way of looking at it is ridiculous. I don’t know what mighty cosmic-whatever you got on the good side of, but it would be stupid to think that you managed to make it through decades worth of croysleep and several killer robots and they just decided you aren’t going to have it made up there.

-I was in a barn for six months the last time I got out.

>We’ll just add that stupid barn to the list of things you’ve stomped into the dust.

>Not literally, obviously. Barns are kind of big.

>Obviously.

>Keep at it, okay?

-I will. Thank you.

>Do you think the storm is going to still keep you up?

-I’m not entirely sure.

>Hold on, I got something for you then.

Virgil disappeared for a couple of minutes, but the next message that arrived wasn’t text at all, but a tiny white square with a music note on it.

>Try that out. Just click on it.

Once Mel had clicked on the file another window opened that played for her a sweet little melody, though an electronic one. It sounded like one of the songs the turrets would sing in the depths of Aperture, and streams of rainbow light bobbed in time with the music in the open window. This may just do it if she kept the volume down enough, and she typed to her friend one last time.

-Its absolutely perfect. Goodnight, Virgil.

>Goodnight, Mel.

She slowly placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of the couch where she’d also lay her drink glass. It was one of the last remaining lights in the main living space, aside from a nightlight plugged into the kitchen wall in the shape of a lily and the dim glow of the moon fighting through the rainclouds outside in spotted streams of silver. Mel thought about heading up to her room, but she was comfortable here. Even with the door still slightly ajar and the sideways rain dampening the floor, Mel curled up against the arm of the couch with a cushion under her head. She could try to find her place in this world again tomorrow, or she could wait.

Even with the accomplishments Mel made in the past that she could share with no one but her one friend on the other side of her computer screen, she could still take something from them. She’d done great things, and she would continue to do great things. Maybe just not now.

[hotandcoldaf]

Hope Doesn’t Grow Overnight

It belatedly occurred to me that maybe I should crosspost this here. You can also find it on AO3.

Shiro's year with the Galra, as told from Ulaz's perspective.

Not really shippy, but I wrote it as a person who does ship it so. Read it as you will.

(Content warning for medical torture and some general bloody unpleasantness to go with it.)

---

The first time Ulaz met Shiro, it had been a surprise. Or, to be more exact, the meeting itself was no surprise, but that it had cause to happen in the first place had been. To attend to gladiators after their matches, to close cuts and set broken bones before they were placed in a healing chamber to take care of the rest, that was simply standard procedure. Ulaz just... hadn't been expecting it to be necessary on that particular quintant. That quintant, the Champion was set to fight some fodder--random prisoners with no greater use than to die for the entertainment of their captors. With as brutal and experienced as Myzax was, it was rare that he sustained any injuries in such matches, and rarer still that his opponent earned the right to live.

So when Ulaz was ordered to administer treatment for the new Champion, his first thought was that perhaps he'd misheard. And when he entered the examination room and saw Shiro for the first time, he was sure there must have been some sort of mistake. This small creature, with no natural armor or weapons to speak of, truly bested Myzax? It was unthinkable.

He crossed over to the room's terminal and pulled up the prisoner's file. Maybe there was something he was missing here. Shiro watched him from his seat on the edge of the examination table with wary curiosity, and once it was apparent that Ulaz would not be starting a conversation, he spoke first.

"Who are you? What do you want now?"

Ulaz ignored him. A primitive explorer from a still-developing planet, picked up by coincidence from the edges of his solar system. No weapons, no armor, no magical abilities, nothing noteworthy about his species in any way. This was some sort of joke, surely?

"Hey." Shiro hopped down from the table and approached him. "Are you listening to me? I asked you a question."

"Sit down," Ulaz ordered impassively, not bothering to look up from the file he was still skimming.

"No. Not until you give me some answers. I'm tired of you people dragging me around from place to place without ever explaining anything."

"I told you to sit down, Prisoner 117-9875. You are not in a position to be making demands."

"My name is Shiro," the supposed new Champion said, undeterred.

"I do not care," Ulaz replied, and at the time, it had been true. "Do not make me repeat myself again."

Shiro continued to stare up at him defiantly. "What are you going to do about it?"

With the way Shiro's chin was tilted up to make eye contact made it all too easy for Ulaz to wrap his hand around his throat and lift him from the ground before he had a chance to react. He carried him back to the examination table like that, paying no mind to his struggling, and dropped him down on it roughly. Shiro doubled over and coughed harshly when released, but Ulaz ignored it in favor of moving on with the examination.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?"

"What?" came the response. Ulaz almost suspected him of trying his patience on purpose, but repeated his question nonetheless.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?"

Shiro stared at him in confusion for a few ticks before responding again. "Why do you care? Are you a doctor?"

Ulaz didn't answer. Rather than ask a third time, he decided to assume the answer was no. Myzax specialized in beating his opponents to death, after all; he wasn't likely to inflict any cuts deep enough to require pretreatment. The next question was the more important one in this case. "Are any of your bones broken?"

This time, Shiro's confused stare segued into a slow nod. "...Yeah." And then another, firmer nod. "Yeah, a couple of ribs. Or fractured, at least." He raised one of his arms to indicate the side and give Ulaz the space to feel for himself. The way the bones shifted under his touch and the pained grunt that came from Shiro alongside it confirmed the diagnosis. Well, nothing he could do for that unless he wanted to cut him open first, and that wouldn't be necessary.

"The healing chamber will take care of that. Anything else?"

"Healing chamber?" Shiro echoed, and Ulaz briefly wondered if he should reconsider his decision not to perform an unnecessary surgery. Instead he decided that such a response would serve as a no, which meant his obligations here were fulfilled and he was free to go.

Which he promptly did without another word.

---

The second time Ulaz encountered Shiro, it was in the form of a dark blur slamming into him as soon as he opened the door to the examination room. The force of it was enough to knock him over, and he groaned as he watched Shiro run off down the hallway. He would have to chase after him, of course, and he would be expected to put forth his best effort in doing so. The problem being that the best effort expected from an aging doctor was far less than what Ulaz was actually capable of, and he was going to have to balance the two carefully to make this look right.

What an annoyance.

He rose to his feet and took off in pursuit. Thankfully, with their size difference, it didn't take much effort for him to actually catch up. As he reached out to grab his quarry, Shiro turned to look back at him, and Ulaz realized a moment too late that the expression on his face was not the look of fear he was expecting from a prisoner about to be apprehended, but the determined look of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. By then, Shiro already had one hand around Ulaz's wrist and the other braced against his chest, and he was using the Galra's own momentum to throw him forward to the ground.

Oh, Ulaz realized, staring up at the ceiling as Shiro continued running past him. That was how so slight a creature could hold the title of Champion.

He let a few moments pass before he got back up, just in time to see Shiro turn back into the hallway from around a corner, closely pursued by a pair of sentries. By the time Ulaz caught up to them, they'd captured the would-be escapee, though he hadn't given up the fight just yet. Instead he struggled fruitlessly against the sentry's grip, shouting out his frustration.

"No! Let me go! I'm not going back there! You can't keep making me do this! It isn't right!"

He kept ranting like that as Ulaz approached. "Foolishness," the Galra said. "Trying to break out without even knowing the escape pods are in the opposite direction."

That shut him up. Good. That meant he'd caught the hint. Unfortunately, it also made it a little too obvious that he'd caught it, so Ulaz didn't let more than a moment pass before delivering an order to the sentries.

"Knock him out."

---

The new Champion quickly gained himself a reputation among the medical staff of the ship. Myzax had never been much of a talker, but Shiro hardly ever shut up through his examinations, even though they all kept a strict policy of never responding to him any more than what was necessary to perform their duties.

Sometimes the things he spoke about were serious.

"Do you know what they make me do out there?" he asked once. "Doesn't it bother you? You're a doctor, right? Doesn't the sanctity of life mean something to you? You know what the first rule of doctors is where I'm from? It's 'do no harm.' But I guess you guys don't have that."

"Why do you even bother patching me up every time?" he asked on another occasion. "You know your bosses want me dead, right? I can tell. They want someone who'll make a show out of it all, like that other guy did. It must be driving them up the wall that I won't. That's why they're always keeping me at a disadvantage, I'm sure of it."

Sometimes, however, he chose more nonsense topics, clearly just trying to provoke a reaction.

"You look like a horse," he told Ulaz bluntly once, without ever bothering to explain what a horse was. "It's the mohawk, mostly, but the mask helps, too. It looks kind of like a feedbag. A lot of you guys look like cats or lizards, but you are definitely a horse. Do you have a matching tail under that skirt, too?"

"Why are you so pale? Don't you get enough sunlight? I know I'm stuck in here, but don't they let you go outside?"

Gradually, his comments became more and more inflammatory, picking up on any differences between his various captors as he could. He asked probing questions about Ulaz's coloration, his hair, his age, his height, the shape of his ears, the length of his fur, nothing seemed to escape his notice.

That eventually came to a rather memorable end with one of the other medics storming out of the examination room with a bloodied nose.

"One of you guys tried to punch me yesterday," Shiro told Ulaz proudly afterwards. "I asked him why he was so short and I guess he didn't appreciate that. But you know what that means? It means that no matter how much you guys pretend to ignore me, you're still listening. I can still get through to you, sooner or later."

---

Ulaz did not usually make a habit of going to watch the gladiatorial games, but he found that the longer Shiro managed to hold the title of Champion, the more curious he was to see him in action. Shiro was clever and resourceful, and there was no doubt in Ulaz's mind that those traits were serving him well as a fighter, but he was sensitive as well, and reluctant to kill. How did that affect his performance in the arena? Shiro had spoken of a refusal to make a show of things, of trying to make things as painless as possible for his opponents, but Ulaz wanted to see it for himself.

It would also be nice to know what injuries to expect before he actually walked into the examination room for once. Shiro would notice if he didn't ask the usual questions, he was sure, and perhaps he was curious to see what he'd say about that, as well.

But first, Shiro would have to survive.

His first opponent was determined not to make that an easy task. Tronagans did not have much of a reputation for cooperativeness to start with, after all, and this one--a female, if Ulaz had to hazard a guess from this distance--was fighting for her life. She was larger and stronger than Shiro just by virtue of her species, and her movements made it clear she was an experienced fighter, as well. A pirate whose luck had run short, most likely.

It didn't take long for her to earn the crowd's favor, no more than the few solid blows it took to prove she could actually stand up to him. Ulaz was a little surprised, actually. He'd known that Shiro's compassionate nature made him a less popular Champion than Myzax was, but he hadn't expected the crowd to turn on him quite so quickly.

It didn't make any difference in the end. The Tronagan fought well, well enough to leave Shiro with a broken arm and several other wounds beside, but not well enough to claim the victory. Even with his arm broken, Shiro was an incredible fighter. No, perhaps that broken arm was all the more proof of what an incredible fighter he really was. Not just anyone could possess the focus and determination necessary to keep fighting with such pain, much less the skill and clarity of mind needed to win despite it. He truly deserved the title of Champion; any lingering doubts Ulaz had about that were thoroughly dispelled by seeing him in action.

The rest of the crowd didn't seem to agree with him. Their jeers reached a crescendo as Shiro stood victorious over his opponent and looked towards Zarkon for his judgement. The Emperor did not respond immediately. The Tronagan had fought well, and it would not have surprised Ulaz if it was well enough to earn her continued survival. But apparently Zarkon felt it wasn't enough, and he made a gesture that indicated to Shiro to finish her off.

This was the part Ulaz was curious to see. Shiro's head dropped, the disappointment visible in his body language even at such a distance, but he readied his blade nonetheless and brought it down on the Tronagan's neck to end things in a single, swift motion. That was about what Ulaz had expected. He'd thought possibly that Shiro might refuse to finish a beaten foe, but if he was inclined to do that, he would have done it long ago and been punished accordingly. It would not surprise Ulaz in the slightest to learn that he had--he'd put GAC down on it, in fact, just as he had on Shiro's victory here--but if he did, it must have happened on some quintant where he was another medic's responsibility. With that option off the table, ending things quickly was the most mercy Shiro could provide.

That was still much more mercy than Myzax ever gave, and it was clear enough which the crowd preferred. They kept jeering and booing even as the next opponent was released into the arena. This one also tried to fight back, but unlike the Tronagan, they were no match for Shiro, even with his handicap. Again, Shiro looked up towards Zarkon before striking the finishing blow, and even though the verdict of death was a foregone conclusion this time, he looked every bit as disappointed and sorrowful to receive it as he was before. Ulaz didn't doubt that Shiro went through this ritual with every opponent he faced, no matter how obvious the answer was. That sort of stubborn hope was admirable, in a way. He could've made a good Blade if he were Galra, and as things were, he'd surely contribute greatly to some other rebel group if he could manage to escape.

The third opponent sent out into the arena was a Bailoxan, a species smaller than humans, and known for their peaceful natures. Unlike the first two fights, there was a long pause before anything happened, and it took Ulaz some time to realize what the difference was. The first two opponents had acted quickly enough that it wasn't clear, but with an opponent who didn't want to fight, it became obvious: Shiro refused to strike first. How sentimental, and also foolish. That had surely cost him the advantage many times before.

Unrest spread through the crowd the longer nothing happened, until eventually Shiro took a step forward. Apparently that was too much for the Bailoxan. They suddenly dropped their weapon and... tackled Shiro? No, a... hug. It was a hug. Shiro didn't seem to know what to make of it at first, either, staying motionless even as the jeers of the crowd grew worse.

And then, slowly, Shiro let go of his weapon, letting the blade drop to the arena floor. Ulaz felt his stomach drop with it. The roar of the crowd crescendoed unpleasantly as Shiro wrapped his arms around the Bailoxan in turn, and Ulaz almost felt tempted to add his own voice to it, albeit with a rather different sentiment. This was senseless, it would accomplish nothing, surely he realized he was only throwing his life away by doing this?

Already, sentries were rushing into the arena, guns drawn. Shiro and the Bailoxan separated, the smaller alien retreating to hide behind one of the arena's pillars while Shiro ducked to retrieve his weapon and go on the offensive. The sentries fell in short order, but Ulaz knew Shiro wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer. The sentries had numbers and range on their side, and Shiro had a broken arm. Adrenaline couldn't overpower the pain forever.

This wasn't something he needed to see, Ulaz decided. The outcome was predetermined, and he would gain nothing from watching the actual process. It was time to leave.

---

Ulaz heard the exact results later, and they were basically what he expected. The Bailoxan had been killed, and the Druids had Shiro now. It was also no surprise when he was summoned to operate on the suspended Champion.

What was surprising was entering the operating room to find Haggar herself there. He recovered from his shock quickly enough to give a properly respectful salute. She didn't seem to think much of it--likely she was accustomed to such reactions.

"I want a closer look at Champion's heart and lungs," she ordered, and Ulaz nodded and approached the operating table.

Shiro looked--awful was too gentle a word for it. It was clear that his broken arm had been left unset, given how unpleasantly swollen it was. His hair had been left to grow out since the last time Ulaz saw him. It clung to his forehead, and the dark strands plastered against his skin emphasized how badly the color had drained from his face. And even though his eyes moved to follow Ulaz's approach, they lacked their usual focus and clarity. Instead, they were half-closed and bloodshot, with his fatigue written across the lower lids in deep purple.

Ulaz could tell with a single glance: Shiro would not survive being operated on in this state.

But there was nothing he could do about that. Protesting would spare Shiro nothing and would only serve to weaken his own position. All he could do was make his own part in this as quick and painless as possible. For both of them.

Shiro spoke as Ulaz readied his scalpel, but the utterance was too quiet and mumbled to make any sense of, and it soon gave way to pained screaming as Ulaz began his work. The screams were quiet, too, voiceless from long since screaming himself hoarse. At least that made it easier to ignore them.

Ulaz cut through flesh, and then through bone, and soon he had the way to Shiro's heart and lungs completely open. He'd seen images of them before, in scans of Shiro's systems, but seeing the organs themselves like this, seeing them actually moving, was... striking. They moved so much more than Ulaz had been expecting them to. Galra lungs were similarly large, but that size was for keeping air in reserve, for use in environments without any. That Shiro's lungs needed to keep cycling air, despite their size... the inefficiency of it was almost incredible.

Shiro had lost consciousness by now, and that movement was the only indicator that he wasn't dead yet. The rhythm was slowing, however, and it wasn't going to take long for it to stop entirely.

Haggar studied the view silently for a while, and Ulaz wondered if she intended to simply watch as he bled out, but then she reached over into the chest cavity and spoke. "Having two lungs this large is redundant."

And with a single gesture, she severed the connection between one of his lungs and his windpipe.

Shiro's reaction was immediate, an involuntary gasp quickly giving way to a violent coughing fit that had him pulling against his bonds. The harsh percussive sounds seemed almost impossibly loud compared to the voiceless noises he'd been making earlier, and the way they echoed around the otherwise silent operating room made Ulaz feel like his own chest was being torn apart. Inside Shiro's chest, the previously slowing pace of his heart was now rapidly accelerating, trying to keep pace with his struggling remaining lung. It convulsed with every cough, and every tortured expulsion of air left a new splatter of dark red blood across Shiro's mouth.

But all too quickly the coughing gave way to strained wheezing, and then silence as Shiro's lung stopped moving, shortly followed by his heart. Ulaz was about to begin preparing the body for disposal when Haggar grabbed a fistful of Shiro's hair. Her hand glowed with magic, and so did his open chest as his severed lung reattached itself and his heart resumed beating.

Again, Shiro gasped and coughed blood, but this time clearing his airway was not a fruitless endeavor, and instead of wheezing, it gave way to pained sobbing. Haggar leaned in close to his face, her fingers still entangled in his hair. "Do you understand, Champion? Not even death will allow you to escape me."

She straightened up and faced Ulaz. "That's enough for today. Close him back up and see to it that he's returned to his cell."

Ulaz saluted in response as she walked away, thankful that his surgical mask spared him from having to hide the full extent of his horror. He hadn't known Haggar was capable of that. His next report to Kolivan was sure to be an interesting one.

But before that, Shiro. He turned his attention back to the weeping Champion and was surprised to notice that some of the hair where Haggar had grabbed him had turned stark white. He'd have to make note of that in his report as well; it could be a clue about how the witch's powers worked. Or perhaps being brought back from the brink of death was simply more stress than Shiro's body could take. Despite that, he seemed healthier now than he did when Ulaz first entered the room, and this time when he spoke, it was actually audible, if only barely.

"Please," he whispered hoarsely between choked sobs. "Stop this. Please."

It would be so easy to drive a scalpel into his heart.

It would be a mercy.

It would be suicide.

As sympathetic as Ulaz was to Shiro's plight, he was not about to sacrifice everything to help him escape it. So he did as he usually did and ignored him. Or, at least, pretended to.

---

"I grow tired of Champion," Ulaz complained to another medical officer after completing another torture session.

"Really?" the other doctor replied, glancing up briefly from the terminal he was working at. "Most of us find him much more tolerable now that he doesn't speak so much."

"That is not what I meant. I don't understand why the Druids continue to waste time with him. Champion or not, he's nothing more than a slave. They should kill him for his defiance and be finished with it."

The other doctor frowned, glanced at the door, and then spoke in an almost conspiratorial tone. "Well, you didn't hear this from me, but word from the lower levels is that ever since Champion pulled his little stunt, some of the other prisoners have been rioting, almost non-stop. They kill Champion, and they escalate him from an inspiration to a martyr. They'll never get things back under control then."

"But if they bend him to their will, he will serve as an excellent example of the futility of resistance," Ulaz finished. The other doctor nodded. "And what if he does not break?"

"If it comes to that, I don't want to be in the room when they figure it out. You don't really think that could happen, though, do you?"

"If anyone is stubborn enough for it, it would be Champion."

The other doctor grimaced. "I'd be careful who I say that kind of thing around, if I were you. You never know who might be listening."

Perhaps he was right; perhaps Ulaz had said too much. He grimaced back. "I never said it was admirable."

It was, though, that Shiro had endured such torture and still had yet to surrender. Ulaz made sure to include the details of that conversation in his next report to Kolivan, along with the suggestion to free Shiro.

Kolivan rejected the suggestion. It was not worth compromising Ulaz's cover to incite a rebellion that could only fail, he argued, and Ulaz couldn't come up with an adequate counter-argument. Not yet, at least.

---

"Medical Officer Ulaz."

Ulaz nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of a voice so close behind him. He hadn't heard anyone approach, so it wasn't really a surprise when he turned around and found himself face-to-mask with one of the Druids. They didn't require the same level of respect that Haggar herself did, and so he only gave a polite nod of acknowledgement instead of a proper salute. The Druid continued.

"You will be pleased to learn that Champion has given in. He will be returning to the arena soon."

Ulaz carefully kept his expression neutral, letting no signs of the great disappointment he felt show through. He was being tested, almost certainly. He had thought he had chosen his words well enough to disguise his sympathy, but perhaps just enough had slipped through to arouse suspicion. Or perhaps the rebellion Shiro had already inspired had the Druids tense enough to want to stamp out anything that resembled regard for him.

Either way, Ulaz had no intention of failing this test. "That is good," he answered, and waited patiently for the follow-up that was sure to come.

"There is, however, the matter of his broken arm. What is your diagnosis?"

There it was. A simple enough test to pass. "I would need to see a current scan to be certain, but from what I have seen of Champion's physiology, the bone has likely healed in its misaligned state by now. To repair it, it would need to be rebroken and then set properly." That wasn't the answer the Druid was looking for, Ulaz knew, so as much as he was loathe to, he continued. "However, the limb would be permanently weakened. If Champion is to retain his former presence in the arena, I would recommend his arm be amputated and replaced with a prosthetic."

The Druid was silent for a while before responding--an intimidation tactic that Ulaz refused to let bother him. "That was our thinking as well. You will perform the procedure."

It wasn't a request, or even an order. It was a simple statement of fact. Ulaz was going to perform the procedure. He nodded his acknowledgment.

It was a simple enough test to pass, but it wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

---

If nothing else, Shiro looked much healthier than he had the last few times Ulaz had seen him. His surrender had seen several lost privileges returned to him: proper meals, proper rest, proper grooming--his hair was shorn back to its initial length, though the shock of white at his forehead remained.

But that just meant he was healthy enough to struggle again. He pulled against the shackles holding him to the operating table and pleaded openly with the gathered Druids. "Why are you doing this?! I already said I'll fight again! I'll do it! I'll do anything you tell me to! Just, please, stop! I can't--I can't take any more!"

He immediately fell silent when Haggar entered the room, and his improved health seemed to vanish in an instant. The color drained from his face, his eyes went wide, and he began to visibly tremble.

"You should be happy, Champion. I've brought you a gift, to celebrate your return to the arena." She gestured to Ulaz to begin, and he stepped forward towards the table, saw in hand. Shiro watched him approach, and Ulaz could see the exact moment when he realized what was happening.

"No!" he shouted, pulling frantically against his bonds. "Don't do this! You can still fix it!" Ulaz held down Shiro's upper arm and readied his saw. "You don't have to do this! Please, don't--" The rest was lost in screams of pain as Ulaz began cutting through Shiro's arm. This much, at least, was not torture for torture's sake--attaching a prosthetic like this required the subject to be conscious and alert, to ensure the neural pathways connected correctly.

That it was necessary did not make Shiro's begging and screaming throughout the process any less unpleasant to listen to.

---

Shiro didn't talk any more. He simply sat in silence during the examinations that followed his fights, staring blankly down at the artificial arm cradled in his real one. Even when asked the usual questions, he responded only with a shake of his head or a gesture to indicate the damaged area. If Ulaz hadn't known better, he might've thought the Druids had damaged his vocal chords.

It was a pathetic sight, seeing this proud and stubborn man broken down like this, and a disappointing one. Ulaz truly believed that Shiro could've accomplished great things if he'd been freed, but now it was too late.

Or so he'd thought, before he entered the examination room to find Shiro standing at the room's terminal, hastily closing the window he'd had open--though not so quickly Ulaz couldn't tell that it was a map of the ship's interior. The contrast of the moment was striking. Ulaz had caught Shiro at that terminal before, early on in his imprisonment. He hadn't been able to operate it then--the terminal was programmed to only respond to Galra users, though the prosthetic was apparently Galra enough to count--but he had been expertly mimicking the actions required to activate it, and when Ulaz had entered the room, he'd looked up and asked how to turn it on, boldly, fearlessly.

Now when he was caught, Shiro looked up and froze in silent terror. Ulaz considered how to respond for a brief moment, then decided it was best to be consistent. As he had when he caught Shiro the first time, he picked him up by the neck and deposited him back on the examination table.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" he asked, proceeding on with his examination.

For the first time since he replaced his arm, Ulaz heard Shiro's voice. "You're not going to punish me?" he asked quietly. His voice was hoarse and ragged--from misuse, Ulaz hoped, and not damage from screaming--but there was something almost hopeful in it, under the fear.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?" Ulaz repeated, in a tone that made it clear he had better not have to repeat himself again. Shiro nodded and silently offered his left arm. A deep laceration crossed over his forearm, and Ulaz set about closing it. He could tell Shiro was studying his face as he worked, but paid it no mind.

At least, not until Shiro's eyes widened and he suddenly ripped his arm from Ulaz's grip.

"You--You're the one who took my arm," he accused. He held onto his left arm, like he was afraid Ulaz would take that one, too, if he gave him the chance. "It was you. You cut me apart. You're a monster--"

He raised the arm in question, and a flash of circuitry traveled down it before the hand started glowing in violent purple. But he never got the chance to swing it. Dark magic surrounded the hand, and Shiro doubled over in pain.

Ulaz waited patiently for it to pass and the light to fade from Shiro's hand before he gently dislodged his left arm from his right and resumed treatment. His claws had left new wounds on the arm when Shiro had pulled it away from him, and though they were minor enough that it would surely be fine to leave them for the healing chamber to take care of, Ulaz went ahead and treated them as well.

Shiro muttered quietly while he worked. The agony from the safeguard had left him in tears and robbed his words of any aggression, but it did nothing to stop the sentiment that had led to the attempt in the first place. "I hate you. I hate you. I hope you die, I hope you all just die."

Ulaz didn't respond. Even if it was permissible, there was nothing to say. He simply finished his work in silence and then left to go write his report.

It was a struggle to keep his hands steady as he keyed the words into the terminal. It wasn't the near brush with death that had him so unnerved. He was a member of the Blade of Marmora, working deep undercover. Death was a possibility he had long since made his peace with.

What bothered him was that, in that split second between Shiro activating his hand's power and the safeguard kicking in, he'd accepted it. He'd had an instant in which to decide whether or not to defend himself, and in that instant, the conclusion he came to was that it would be better not to. That it would be unjust to deny Shiro his vengeance.

It was an unacceptable way of thinking. He had gone into this assignment knowing full well it would require him to hurt many innocent people. Shiro was not the first, and was not likely to be the last, either. They were all necessary sacrifices for the sake of the Blade's mission, and to throw all that away to satisfy one man's anger would be unthinkable.

And yet he had thought it. In that instant, he'd almost wanted it.

This couldn't be allowed to continue. No matter what Kolivan said, Shiro needed to be freed, or else he'd surely be the end of Ulaz, one way or another.

---

He almost didn't get the chance. It wasn't really a surprise to hear Shiro had made an escape attempt on his own, or even that he'd gotten as far as he did, but Ulaz pretended it was, and that he wasn't disappointed that the attempt was unsuccessful.

He didn't hear what Shiro's punishment for trying to escape was, but this time it wasn't long before Champion returned to the arena and thus to the examination room, and now Ulaz and the other medical officers had strict orders to keep the viewport on the door closed while he was inside. Ulaz had noticed Shiro would stare out the viewport and tap his fingers during examinations, but he had dismissed the behavior as actions born of impatience and frustration. Perhaps eventually he would learn not to underestimate him.

In the meantime, he continued to work on his own preparations. A ship for his own escape, a bomb set near the escape pods. The hardest part would be in creating the opportunity for an escape at all. Ever since Shiro's first escape attempt, guards were kept posted outside the room during his examinations, so that wouldn't be a feasible avenue. As a doctor, he would be too out of place going to Shiro's cell, and even if he stole a guard's uniform, Champion was never supposed to be escorted by any fewer than two guards at once. He was left with very little room to maneuver.

And then the perfect opportunity dropped itself into his lap.

The Blue Lion had been located on Champion's home planet, he was informed. The Champion would get it for them, but, of course, certain procedures would need to be performed first, to ensure his cooperation. Procedures to be performed by Ulaz.

He would not be performing these procedures.

It was fortunate that he'd already been making preparations for freeing Shiro; he had scarcely enough time to set the timer on his bomb and then send a message to Kolivan informing him of what he was about to do. There wasn't enough time to wait for a response, but that was probably for the best. Even if Kolivan disagreed that keeping the Blue Lion out of the Empire's hands was a good enough reason to act, there was no way he could dissuade Ulaz at this point. Better that he not get the chance. Ulaz would deal with the consequences later.

In the end, it would be fine. No matter how mad Kolivan got about this, he would have to admit Ulaz was right when Shiro brought them the Blue Lion. This would be a major turning point in the war, he'd see that.

---

Shiro never brought the Blue Lion to the Thaldycon base, and the more time passed, the more worried Ulaz grew. Had he been wrong? Freeing Shiro had been a gamble, but he'd been confident in Shiro's ability to beat the odds. He'd always done so well with that before. But this was on a wholly different scale. Maybe it was simply too much.

No. He couldn't give up so easily. As long as there wasn't any news of the Blue Lion's successful reclamation by the Empire, there was still hope.

News of the Blue Lion's reclamation by the Empire also never came to the Thaldycon base. The news that eventually reached Ulaz instead was much more surprising, but also much more welcome. After 10,000 years, Voltron had finally been reformed, and was working against the Galra Empire. Ulaz could almost laugh.

When was he ever going to learn to stop underestimating Shiro?

[spectrumscribe]

Small Packages

A quick ficlet of Mikey being a badass, and space arc shenanigans with the whole team. 

because people don’t seem to respect that he’s just as much of a ninja as his brothers and probably twice as terrifying 

AO3 version.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“We go out for drinks, and this happens,” Donnie muttered irritably, shifting the ropes tied around his wrists. “And they weren’t even alcoholic this time.”

“In Leo and Raph’s and my own defense-” April said, also tugging at her bound wrists. “-none of us knew that we weren’t supposed to climb that particular statue. And it’s you, Casey, and Mikey who wandered off; we were just trying to find you!”

“Wonderful job of that. You found us, and then we all got arrested,” Donnie said dryly.

“I said we were sorry!”

“You did, they didn’t,” Donnie nodded at his older brothers, who were slumped against one another unconscious. Casey and Mikey were still conscious, for all the good that did; the two of them also struggling against the rough rope that they’d all been trussed up with.

Around them, the majority of the village they’d stopped down in was gathered. In hindsight, it may not have been the best idea to pick a planet that still had tribal rule, and warrior code. Donnie didn’t like the look of blades swinging from the aliens’ waists, or the sizable masses of their arms.

Earlier, he’d thought it was all very fascinating. A bipedal species with two sets of arms, claw like nails, and fierce looking tusks jutted from their mouths. A genetic marvel from where he came. They also resembled ‘World of Warcraft’ characters, and never let it be said Donnie wasn’t interested in the gaming community, for all its grievous errors and rampant biasness.

Though now, as the chief of the village called to order her assembled followers, they seemed more intimidating than fascinating.

The chief- as they’d all figured out from the numerous tattoos along her(?) arms and the respect given to her(?) by the other warriors- was probably the oldest individual in the village, thick streaks of grey through her(?) short hair and cracked tusks.

Donnie was assuming she was a she, mostly based on what seemed to be breasts on her chest; but he could be wrong. The gender binary he’d known his whole life was mostly useless in space, seeing as some species didn’t have genders at all.

He itched to ask questions about that, maybe document the physical attributes of this new race they’d encountered.

Though, as the chieftain called her people to order and ushered in quiet, Donnie remembered he’d have to survive long enough to do that.

They also had a deadline. If they didn’t get out of this mess in under an hour, they’d be stuck planet-side for another day. The planet they had landed on, for rest and relaxation, happened to be beside a particularly nasty solar storm. Like clockwork, it would become larger at the sun’s setting, and block safe space travel for the rest of the night.

Donnie really, really didn’t want to stay the night here. From the way the warriors circled their group, he thought they might not make through the evening after their trial.

“I still blame you and my brothers,” He said, staring up at the chieftain as she approached.

April elbowed him hard in the side, but otherwise remained silent.

The chieftain opened her mouth, and started gesturing at them as she talked. The village warriors listened attentively as she spoke, echoing with hollers and something suspiciously like war cries in the appropriate spots.

There was a few seconds difference between what words came from the aliens, and the one’s Donnie’s translator relayed in English. There were also pauses in the dialogue, where words or phrases should have been but weren’t. Donnie supposed that even space age technology could fail sometimes, since the vastness of the universe meant it was near impossible to accurately document all languages. That was just unrealistic to expect.

Donnie got enough of the gist though, same as his family around him.

One of them would have to fight, and in exchange, they would earn their freedom. That was the price of having desecrated a sacred statue.

Brilliant.

“What sort of law order is this?” Donnie muttered under the roaring cheers of the crowd.

“An awesome one,” Casey said breathily.

Donnie didn’t see it, but he heard April elbow Casey too.

The chieftain stepped towards them, towering well above their group of six. Even if Donnie had been standing, he probably would have come up to only her chin. And she wasn’t even the tallest member of the village. Some of the warriors were probably over seven feet tall.

She pointed her thick staff at them, the club like head hovering right in front of Donnie’s thankfully flat nose. She said something in her deep rumbling voice, and Donnie’s translator helpfully relayed what she was saying.

Do you accept our terms?

“Uh- yes. Yes we accept your terms of agreement,” Donnie managed, eyeing the heavy metal staff in front of him. He breathed a sigh of relief as the staff was moved away, the chieftain addressing her people again.

“Shouldn’t we ask Leo about this first?” April questioned.

“How? He’s unconscious.”

“Right. Fair enough. So who’s going to fight?”

Donnie opened his mouth to reply, but he cut off as the crowd around them cheered thunderously. A figure stepped into the clearing, and raised their four arms into the air; inciting an even louder round of cheers.

The individual- who Donnie couldn’t identify the gender of at all- was easily the biggest warrior they’d seen so far. Eight feet, good god. Donnie reckoned they were eight feet tall, and made of pure muscle.

Four swords longer than Donnie’s arms were strapped across their back, and Donnie had no doubt that the individual could wield them without problem. The yellowed tusks jutting from their lips were cracked on one side, and there seemed to be blood staining the edges. Not a good sign.

The alien opened their mouth, showing even more incisors, and gave a bone rattling bellow.

Donnie closed his eyes, and sighed deeply.

This only ever seemed to happen when they went out for drinks. Maybe it was time to stop doing that.

“Okay, so,” April said in a tight voice. “Fuck that. I’m good, but I’m not that good.”

“I’m not fighting either, just saying that now,” Donnie said, eyeing the biceps the size of his head. He valued his continued semi-good health, thank you very much.

“I’ll do it,” Casey spoke up.

“No you won’t,” Donnie and April chorused in flat tones.

“I could so take them.”

“No you couldn’t,” Donnie and April said in even flatter tones.

While Casey grumbled to April, Donnie sighed again, and leaned around his two human friends to look at his only conscious sibling. “Alright. Mikey? You’re up.”

“Cool,” Mikey replied, nodding nonchalantly. “I’m down for that.”

April whipped her head around, looking at Donnie with wide eyes. “What?? Donnie, wait, why are you-”

“He’s got it, don’t worry,” Donnie said, nodding at the closest villagers to untie Mikey. “Yeah, we nominate my brother. He’s the annoyingly loud one- wait no not that one, that’s Casey. There you go. That’s him.”

“Seriously-? He’s not even half that guy’s height-”

“-why does Mikey get to fight? I wanted to fight, that’s not fair-”

Donnie missed the rest of April’s concerns and Casey’s complaints, due to the loudest round of cheering yet; as Mikey stepped into the unofficial fighting ring with the warrior alien.

"Keep it short, and make it fast,” Donnie reminded his brother, watching him bend into a series of warm up stretches straight from the eighties. “The professor said we had to be back to the ship in under an hour, or we'll be stuck here another day."

"I know I know I know- I got this Dee, I swear," Mikey replied, still stretching, and completely ignoring the eight foot alien warrior in front of him. Mikey’s opponent drew their swords, and swung their weapons through the air in a show of their deadliness. The four swords glinted in the waning daylight, each blade about as wide as Mikey’s arms.

"We're all going to die." April muttered grimly, still ignoring Casey’s whining about not being allowed to fight. “Or go to jail, and have to break out. Again.”

Donnie felt Leo shift beside him, tugging on the joint rope cuffs between them all, and he looked over to see his big brothers finally regaining consciousness.

“Oh good, you finally woke up,” He said, watching Leo and Raph blink blearily. “I was beginning to think I’d need a bucket of water. They didn’t hit you that hard, did they?’

“I- wha-?” Leo slurred, his mask slightly out of place and a dark bruise forming on his face. “Where-?”

“Long story short: you got us arrested, we’re under trial by combat right now, and Mikey’s working on getting us off the hook.”

“WHAT?!” Raph shouted, jerking up from his slump.

“Too late to stop it now. Once someone chooses to fight, neither opponent can back out unless they admit defeat. Or pass out. Or die,” Donnie explained helpfully. “They said so when she-” He nodded at the chieftain watching Mikey and her warrior warm up. “-was explaining things.”

“Who’s idea was it choose Mikey?!” Leo exclaimed in horror, staring at their youngest brother as he kept blithely warming up.

“Mine. It was the best option.”

“What on earth were you thinking?! There’s no way-”

“Mikey! MIKEY! GET BACK HERE AND SWITCH WITH ME!” Raph yelled, struggling against the rope tying them all together. “MIKEY!!”

“Oh my god- Raph, I got this!” Mikey sighed, looking over his shoulder at them all. “I totally. got this.”

A gong rang out, sounding the beginning of the fight, and Leo and Raph’s further exclaimed protests were drowned out.

An alien guard approached Mikey, handing him his formerly confiscated nunchucks. They’d all left their space weaponry on the ship, exchanging them for their earth ones, in an attempt to blend in with the locals. The planet was nearly identical to earth atmosphere-wise too, so no breathing apparatuses necessary. They’d only kept their translators.

As a result, Mikey calmly swinging his nunchucks in the face of four broadswords made for a comically ill-matched sight.

The cheers of the crowd muted Donnie’s brothers’ protests, and he settled in to ignore them while Mikey took care of business.

The eight foot titan gave a battle roar, and charged Donnie’s little brother; swinging all four deadly swords at him, and-

Mikey wasn’t there to be chopped into pieces.

The alien withdrew their swords from the dirt, looking confusedly at the spot Mikey had vanished from. They turned in a circle, eliciting laughter from the crowd of villagers, and still couldn’t find the vanished mutant.

Then-

Mikey reappeared with a whoop- coming back into existence seemingly from nowhere- and caught his opponent across the temple with his nunchaku.

The alien reeled in shock, then recovered, and swung at Mikey again with a snarl.

Mikey slipped under the four simultaneous swings without trouble, and popped up again with a cheeky grin.

“That all you got?” He asked, bouncing from foot to foot jauntily.

The alien frowned, and gave another battle cry as they tried once more to slice Mikey to pieces.

While Leo and Raph, plus April and Casey, all fussed and protested Mikey’s involvement in the fight- Donnie waited calmly for his brother to stop messing around.

Mikey ducked and weaved around the swords aimed at him, practically dancing through the battle. The crowd cheered louder, as Mikey slipped underneath a flurry of jabs to deliver a nerve attack to the alien’s side.

The alien howled, their left secondary arm going limp and dropping its sword. They bared their tusks, and swung again at Mikey with their remaining three arms, missing by inches as Mikey coolly avoided the strikes.

“Ooh shit, you almost had me that time,” Mikey taunted, bouncing away again. “C’mon, I know you can do it. Hit me again- or I guess, hit me for the first time, ha ha.”

The next few minutes turned into a blur- Mikey weaving and dancing around the enormous alien warrior, unbothered as anything as three huge swords were swung at him again and again. A side step here, and a well-timed splits there- Mikey avoided every attack sent at him, and laughed the whole while.

He hadn’t even delivered any other attacks, beyond the original temple scuff and the nerve attack.

The swords scored the dirt ground, leaving long gashes where Mikey had formerly been. The alien warrior kept at it, despite having not landed a single blow yet. In the end of day lighting, the three remaining swords reflected Mikey’s wide grin as he skimmed past them over and over.

Eventually, Mikey slipped through the defenses of the alien- disappearing and reappearing again from thin air- and delivered a second nerve attack.

Down two arms- one left, one right- the towering warrior looked much less intimidating, what with two limbs hanging dead from their sides.

The alien seemed to be getting desperate, egged on by the bloodlust of the crowd, and dove in with their remaining swords to stab again at Mikey.

Mikey- without even using his nunchucks- diverted the attack away from him, and grasped the elbow joint of the alien.

Donnie didn’t wince, but his other family members did, as Mikey shattered the arm joint with his knee.

The alien howled in pain, and dropped the sword held by that now broken arm. They knelt heavily, releasing their only remaining sword to clutch their arm.

Mikey snaked around the kneeling alien, and with fluid grace, joined his weapons together to form his kusarigama as he straddled the alien’s broad back.

Mikey looped his chains around the alien’s neck, and before they could react further than a dismayed exclamation, started choking them.

He held the alien in that chokehold, looking unruffled and almost bored as they scrabbled uselessly against the chains, until the giant slumped heavily to the side and passed out.

The soft thud of the collapsed alien settled a hush on the crowd. Then-

The villagers went wild.

Mikey released them, winding his chains up his arms as he dropped off the alien’s back. At the thunderous applause and cheers surrounding them all, he gave a sweeping bow to the crowd, and basked in the glory of his opponent’s defeat.

Mikey popped his head up, still bowed over, and grinned at Donnie. “Fast enough for you, Dee?”

"You were just playing with them for the last two minutes of that,” Donnie replied in a dry tone, rolling his eyes. “Maybe more.”

"Awww, you caught me," Mikey said with a fake pout.

"Just have them untie us already; we have actual work to do, instead of you teasing people."

"Pft, yeah okay, Mr. Grumpy-Shell."

While Mikey was swarmed by individuals twice and three times his size, a couple of the guards that had been watching Donnie and his family came over to untie them all.

Donnie glanced at his fellow captives, and found every one of them gaping with surprise. He raised and eye ridge at them all. "What? We all know Mikey's got the best skills out of all of us, he just never uses them. Did you think he just sat around watching TV all day?"

“I- well- uh-” Leo stuttered.

“-kind of??” Raph finished for their brother, April and Casey nodding along jerkily.

"Hm, you obviously haven't been around for our ‘danger room’ sessions then."

“Your what?” Leo asked in a worried tone, finally getting over his speechlessness.

“Like from the X-men? He begged me until I agreed to create a simulation for him in the holodeck,” Donnie shrugged out of his loosened ropes, rubbing his slightly sore wrists. “It’s become a bit of a competition lately. To see if I can make a simulation he can’t beat.”

“What the fuck,” Raph muttered in disbelief, remaining on the ground despite their bonds being gone.

Donnie looked at his brothers- both of them seeming thoroughly beaten despite not having fought at all- and shook his head. Honestly, no faith from either of them.

“I still say I could’ve taken ‘em.”

“Casey, no you couldn’t have.”

“Says you, Red.”

“Yes says me, apparently your self-preservation.”

Mikey was still shaking hands with the villagers, who all seemed very accepting of him now that he’d proven his strength. Though his hand was engulfed each time, the villagers seemed happily surprised by the grip Mikey had despite his small size.

The defeated warrior was carted off, probably by a collection of their family and a doctor. They’d likely be well cared for, after facing such a worthy opponent. And in the middle of all the chaos; the chieftain of the village stood alone, looking satisfied with how things had played out.

An interesting perspective, but Donnie would take it; since it meant they got to leave with their heads still attached and their hearts still beating. Also, no escape from space jail; part four in an ongoing series.

Donnie got up, dusting himself off, and went to pull Mikey from his adoring fans. They still had to get back to the ship, after all.

Their family trailed after them as they left, Leo and Raph still in shock and Casey and April bickering back and forth about the fight.

Mikey grinned at Donnie, and elicited another eye roll when he asked if they’d gotten any video of his sweet take down.

All in all, not the weirdest outing they’d had so far on their space quest. Not even close.

[bestfriendforhire]

Children of BFFH, Entry 32

 “Ready when you are.” stated Mom.  She had moved behind me and slightly to the left.

 My head was covered in a helmet like Mom’s—capable of blocking light and sound when activated—since we were practicing using my visions in combat, which was tricky with only the past viewable. I’d see everything happening a fraction of a second late, making blocking difficult.  Luckily, I could also use Dad’s magic, reflexively creating barriers between me and the attack.  “Ready.” I told them, trying to sound confident as I turned the helmet on.

 I ducked under Dad’s kick while knocking Mom’s fist to the side with my arm.  Blocking Dad with my magic could be tricky, since he’d occasionally dispel my barrier with his own magic, but I managed to block a second kick as I rolled away.  Mom followed, starting to cast a spell, but I couldn’t quite make out the energy pattern in my vision, so I jumped to the side while trying to block Dad.

 He dispelled it, and I could feel a force shooting from his fist at me.  Blocking, I also tried tripping Mom into her wind spell, which worked!  She was pushed off-balance, but rolled with it back to her feet as I was fending off more attacks from Dad.  With their enhancement suits on, I wouldn’t really stand a chance if they came at me with their full speed and strength.  My dad was a fairly large man, and Mom was relatively tall as well.  Both had practiced martial arts and magic since before I was born.  Practice continued for a grueling hour, leaving me covered in small bruises by the end.

 “You’re improving, Doc.” stated Auntie Raine with a smile as she made the bruises disappear.  She had appeared just as my parents were hurrying off to get changed for their jobs.

 “You were watching?” I asked, not so much surprised as I was hopeful.  Auntie Raine was often watching over all of us kids.  I knew she wasn’t really omnipotent, but I occasionally thought of her that way.  Her limits weren’t too noticeable unless viewing things on a galactic scale.  The Boss once said that rearranging a solar system might take her a week, but creating a galaxy would take a very long time, since creating a single star could take hundreds of thousands of years due to the immense mass.

 She nodded and said, “Accidents happen.  I like to help.”

 “And you’re sure I’m doing better?  I feel like my parents scored more points than normal.” I admitted, wincing at the vision-accompanied memory.

 “They did, but they were moving faster than normal, pushing you harder.  Weren’t you listening to their p-praise?” she questioned, seeming to blur slightly toward the end.  “Sorry.  Was needed elsewhere for a moment.”

 “What happened?” I asked, curiously.

 She frowned.  “Portentia had tears in her suit that needed immediate mending.”

 “Was she shot again?” I questioned.  “Wait.  I thought the suit was self-mending.”

 Auntie Raine sighed before saying, “She lost half her body in an explosion.  The suit doesn’t mend that fast.”

 I blinked as I pictured that, unable to think of a way to blow up half a suit without it being embarrassing.  “New criminals in the city?  Was anyone injured?” I questioned, hoping Crazy didn’t try to hunt them down on her own.  No one deserved that kind of attention from her.

 Auntie Raine shook her head and pointed.  “Two town’s that way.  Gas explosion.  Don’t worry.  All fixed now.”

 I nodded, still feeling impressed.  She was just so… incredible!

 As I considered asking her about her plans for today, she mussed my hair and said, “I need to get back to work.  Technically on a job still.”  With that, she vanished.

 I sat there staring at where she had been for several seconds, grinning.  Despite being at work, she was still watching over me.  She even took the time to heal me and compliment me.  No one could claim that Auntie Raine didn’t take her job as a Best Friend For Hire seriously.

 “How did your extra training go?” asked Aspy when I stepped back into our family area.  He was playing with his drones, seeming to be working on attack formations for them.

 I shrugged and said, “Pretty good.  I still wouldn’t want to seriously fight anyone blindfolded.”

 “Still awesome to see in the dark when you need to.” he pointed out without looking up.

 “I suppose.” I admitted.  My visions of an area didn’t need light, the past was easy to see.  

 “Want to hop on Ancient Tribes of Earth?” he suggested.  “We still have that quest to finish from last night.”

 I nodded and grabbed my gear.  When playing from here, I liked wearing a headset rather than using a screen, and I used a set of motion-sense gloves instead of a keyboard and mouse, allowing me to lounge anywhere while playing.

 Soon, I was maneuvering my character, Holly Wood, through the forests West of Ashengarde.  My character was largely based on Mom’s Elf, Willow Wood, but I worked on more weapon skills than she did.  Aspy’s Seraph Wood was a Half-Angel/Half-Elf crossbreed using a race Dad had unlocked on his character, Divinity.  Since our characters were created as children of our parents’ characters, we were able to inherit some bonuses from them, despite mine being a different type of Elf.  Aspy chose the Half-Angel heritage along with numerous angelic abilities from it.  Holly inherited numerous magical- and weapon-based skill boosts, allowing her to learn them at an accelerated rate.

 Together, we were on a quest to take out a malicious branch of Dani’s vampires, a very powerful strain that she kept sneaking into Ashengarde.  Yesterday, we had taken a quest to hunt down a thief who had stolen food, which led to us discovering a dungeon with captured NPCs being used for food.  That led us to storm a manor house, destroy several smaller homes the vampires were using, and eventually find out that there was a large coven off evildoers hiding in this forest.  For now, we planned on scouting.  If the coven was too large, we’d request aid from our friends, possibly even from the guild.

[tiozambia]

Climate change reality on hydropower: Zambia must innovate

…as a nation we cannot operate in a silo while the rest of the world innovates. The sun is still shining. It is time to mitigate and adapt.  By Eng Geoffrey Chishimba Chiyumbe Hydropower became an electricity source in the late 19th century, a few decades after British-American engineer James Francis developed the first modern water turbine. In 1882, the world's first hydroelectric power plant began operating in the United States of America along the Fox River in Appleton, Wisconsin. Today, hydropower and thermoelectric power make up 98 percent of the world's electricity generation. These two most common forms of power are also the most water-intensive, which makes them extremely vulnerable to drought, competition over water resources and other water shortages. Hydropower is the most dominant renewable and low carbon energy source generating about 16% of the total world electrical energy. Hydropower generates energy from water and so  any change in natural water circle caused by the climate change had and will have impact on the power generation (Dams convert falling water—mechanical energy— into electrical energy. Without water as in drought, there is no energy source to convert). The effect of climate change on hydropower is mostly influenced by the change of the river runoff. The change of precipitation and temperature are the most driving factors. Increase of the extreme climate events and enlarged erosion furthermore pressures the hydropower production. Increased temperature causes stronger water evaporation from the earth including from all water surfaces, streams, rivers and lakes. The evaporation reduces available river water, but at the same time more evaporated water origins in more precipitation. In 2016, the World Energy Council warned, "we will start to see the effects of water scarcity on energy supplies in the very near future." The effects are already starting to show, as evidenced by Kenya and India's droughts and subsequent power plant curtailments. This issue is not unique to one country or continent; power plants from Asia to Europe to Africa to the Americas are suffering due to water scarcity. It is a global problem. According to the World Preservation Foundation one third of the world’s major rivers and lakes are drying up, and the groundwater wells for 3 billion people are being affected. Assessing climate change impact studies conducted on the Zambezi River Basin, Dr. Richard Beilfuss, a professional hydrologist,   said the Zambezi is expected to experience “drier and more prolonged drought periods”. Over the next century, rainfall is expected to decrease by between 10 and 15 percent over the basin, according to several studies cited by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. There will be a significant reduction in the amount of water flowing through the river system, affecting all eight countries it passes through. The water that feeds the river is expected to decrease by between 26 percent and 40 percent in another four decades, the study observed. In Zambia, we are still experiencing the ravaging and devastating effects of drought - Food production dropped, leaving millions of people without access to sufficient food. Some villagers have lost more than 50 percent of their livestock. Amidst the human tragedy of this drought, an unexpected actor faced impending shutdowns and economic losses due to water scarcity – the energy (electricity) sector. Indeed we see that the loss of rivers, lakes and underground water reserves are impacting the livelihoods of millions of people, hitting animals, farming and electricity production, as well as threatening to exacerbate climate change further through the release of CO2 and methane. Despite intense rainfall, world’s water supply is decreasing. Studies find that drying of soil due to rise in temperatures is not letting much water reach rivers and reservoirs. It is established that the main cause for the drying up of the lakes is drought caused by climate change impacting the inflow to the lake – resulting in significant reduction in water levels. Increased diversion for irrigated agriculture, the building of dams and reduced rainfall over the lake's surface, are also named as contributing factors. Cutting down of trees is also a problem causing the drying of soils in our catchments. Plants absorb water from the soil and evaporates it to form clouds. Deforestation leads to cutting down of trees and as a result less water is absorbed from the soil and this disturbs the water cycle. The formation of clouds becomes difficult which leads to reduced rainfall. Where once these were moist before a storm event allowing excess rainfall to run off into rivers—they are now drier and soak up more of the rain, so less water flows into our rivers. And drier soils means farmers need more water to grow the same crops. There is an undisputable evidence of ground water basins losing more water than being naturally replenished by rainfall. We have dry and diminished rivers all over Zambia that can be seen by many bridges constructed years ago after independence, to span a body of water underneath, today only service dry lands, where water once flowed. In 2014, while still working in South Africa, I read a disturbing report that Lake Mweru Wantipa, which was the main stay of the people of Kaputa and now Nsama district through fishing activities was drying at a very fast rate. I did my grade two education there at Kasongole primary school then, whilst under the guardianship of my maternal grandfather Dickson Chishimba, popularly known as Kapeyeye, who was the chief under Mukupa Katandula. Many people think of global warming and climate change as synonyms, but scientists prefer to use “climate change” when describing the complex shifts now affecting our planet’s weather and climate systems. Climate change encompasses not only rising average temperatures but also extreme weather events. In trying to harness the amazing power of moving water, we are confronted with increasing temperatures, lower water flow and alterations in the rainfall regime, factors which reduce total energy production from hydro power plants. So therefore with rising temperatures arising out of climate change, more water is evaporating from soils, in turn making the soil absorb more rainfall. Experts have wondered why despite the above studies and findings, Large dams are being built or proposed, typically without analysis of the risks from hydrological variability that are already a hallmark of African weather patterns, much less the medium- and long-term impacts expected from climate change. “None of these projects, current or proposed, has seriously incorporated considerations of climate change into project design or operation,” noted Dr. Richard Beilfuss. Dr.Beilfuss, including other experts, have suggested that countries in the sub-Sahara African region must focus on improving existing hydropower capacity rather than investing in new infrastructure. “Adding new or more efficient turbines is almost always much lower-impact than building new dams.” Countries should also consider alternative sources of energy generation. Would it then be reasonable and prudent in view of the above to continue as a nation,   investing heavily in new hydro power plants instead of investing in alternative sources such as solar? The bible has serious wisdom concerning this. Luke 14:28 - 30 says. “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it?  For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘this person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’ If today in 2019 we are unable to meet electricity demand due to low water levels in our main water reservoirs,  are we going to  have enough water then  to ‘fuel' the future hydropower plant  we are planning to heavily invest in today,  with an average life span of 50 to 100 years? We must avoid ridicule. We have suffered enough mockery as decision makers for failure to plan timeously with insight and foresight. We need to allocate time to consult exhaustively on serious matters that affect the nation, especially ones with large capital outlay requirements. There are sadly some leaders who have been resisting new technologies but insisting on hydropower for their relevance in the sector. We must face reality and put national interest ahead of self. In Bemba we say “Icabu chakale chilabunsha”(one can’t resist change lest you drown). It is time to metarmophosize into butterflies by introducing new renewable energy technologies and innovations. As a nation we cannot operate in a silo while the rest of the world innovates. The sun is still shining. It is time to mitigate and adapt. Generation mix is the future. Renewables future is feasible with currently available technologies, including wind turbines, solar photovoltaics, concentrating solar power, biomass power, geothermal, etc. The power plant of the future will be fully connected, more efficient, and operational more hours of the year. It will process more data, be more flexible, and still play a vital role in the future of the global energy mix. And Zambia will not be left lagging behind. The writer is a Zambian Professional Electrical Engineer, Energy Consultant and Project Management Specialist with over 23 years post qualifying practical experience attained from Zambia and South Africa and beyond. Chairman and Team Leader for Zambia Electricity Reforms Task Force 2017-2026. Currently as Country Director for Trans Africa Projects (TAP), a subsidiary for Eskom, a South African power utility. He can be contacted on mobile +260976840325 and email: chiyumbegc@gmail.com   Read the full article

[lindsaynsmith]

Goodbye, Kepler Space Telescope

Goodbye, Kepler Space Telescope https://ift.tt/2yK1E0T

Illustration of the Kepler space telescope.

Photo: NASA (AP)

NASA’s venerable Kepler space telescope, which discovered nearly 2,700 exoplanets in distant star systems, has officially been retired after finally running out of fuel, the space agency wrote in a statement on Tuesday. When it launched in 2009, it was equipped with “the largest digital camera outfitted for outer space observations at that time,” NASA wrote, and scientists on Earth had very limited knowledge of planets beyond the reach of the solar system.

Despite a malfunctioning steering system and dwindling hydrazine fuel levels, the $600 million spacecraft stayed in action for nine years and 19 observation campaigns—far longer than its original four-year mission. Per the Verge, Kepler is now awaiting a command sometime in the next two weeks that will deactivate its transmitter and other instruments. After that, it will drift silently in a safe orbit trailing the Earth (at a distance of 94 million miles in March 2018, though this will continue to increase over time).

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Mission scientists worried that the spacecraft may have been irreparably rendered ineffective after the steering malfunction in 2012, though they eventually came up with an ingenious solution in 2013 using pressure generated by the sun’s rays to compensate for a failed reaction wheel and aim it at observation targets. This solution did not restore full functionality—Kepler could subsequently only aim itself for around 83 days at a time—but it did make it possible to start another phase of operations.

It also experienced problems with one of its thrusters around the time it began its 19th observation campaign in late August 2018 and went into sleep mode, though NASA was able to bring it back online in September.

“One of the eight thrusters had shown unreliable performance, but the team estimated that simply removing the thruster from use during precision pointing firings could result in acceptable system performance,” Alison Hawkes, a NASA Ames Research Center spokesperson, told SpaceNews last month. “As a result, the changes were made and Campaign 19 was, as it were, joined in progress.”

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The craft has more or less been running on fumes in recent months. According to Space.com, mission personnel confirmed that its reserves were spent as of two weeks ago.

“As NASA’s first planet-hunting mission, Kepler has wildly exceeded all our expectations and paved the way for our exploration and search for life in the solar system and beyond,” Thomas Zurbuchen, the associate administrator of NASA’s Science Mission Directorate in DC, said in the NASA statement. “Not only did it show us how many planets could be out there, it sparked an entirely new and robust field of research that has taken the science community by storm. Its discoveries have shed a new light on our place in the universe, and illuminated the tantalizing mysteries and possibilities among the stars.”

“Now, because of Kepler, what we think about the universe has changed,” NASA astrophysics division director Paul Hertz told the Verge. “Kepler opened the gate for the exploration of the cosmos.”

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The telescope’s successor, the far more powerful Transiting Exoplanet Survey Satellite (TESS), launched in April 2018 aboard a SpaceX Falcon 9 rocket and is projected to discover over 20,000 new exoplanets. Eventually, TESS itself will be joined by the James Webb Space Telescope, which despite being kind of a mess right now is supposed to launch in 2021.

Goodbye, Kepler. And though you may be drifting in the dark tens of millions of miles away from your homeworld, you showed that the cosmos may not be so lonely, and your contributions will not be forgotten. And who knows? Maybe one day, someone will come find you.

[NASA]

via Gizmodo https://gizmodo.com October 31, 2018 at 12:39AM