#oc: warp drive

[short-circuit-the-great]

I don't understand how you can still make sweet music, but I'm hanging onto every note anyways.

[leopardmuffinxo]

entombed passion

[unikirin]

Starting a Star Trek adventures campaign on the weekend, this is my main character, Lt. Saif Duran, an Orion formerly of the Borg collective (ie. an "xB"). All his limbs are entirely Borg prosthetics so he wears the skant uniform modified to be sleeveless for an easier fit!

[charlesoberonn]

New OC: Greg the Underachieving Omnipotent

He's got the potential for a near-limitless ability to warp reality and absolutely no motivation or drive to put in the effort to unlock the vast majority of it.

The government pays a lot of money to employ agents whose sole job is to keep Greg distracted and satisfied.

[unsoundedcomic]

Do efheby have some drive to help other senets resolve their conflicts or was that gone with the end of the first world?

They're supposed to! Ruck is missing it, or at least has fully supplanted it with the sick drives he's developed in the second world. I think you can recognise the traces of it though in the way he talks through matters, draws very definitive conclusions on matters, and passes judgment on people. And he has that hunger for varying perspectives. It should be a healthy thing - a curiosity that drives him to dig out various points of view and compare and contrast them with others'; but it's become grossly warped. He's long since lost an instinct towards reconciliation - and in fact if you asked him, he'll claim he could never stand the idea at all.

This isn't impossible. You can look at any of the senets and see they're imperfect. Look at Minnow who can barely stand to be with her own kind anymore, or lonely Ilganyag pining for children she could only create in the most twisted way.

They're abandoned little OCs, the senet beasts, and not all of them were very competently conceived.

[whirligig-girl]

Temek (@raydrawsdaly's OC), chief engineer of the Orion Syndicate 'freighter' Good Afternoon. (Slamtha's ship).

The plasma boiler at the heart of the rotary warp drive of the Good Afternoon is practically a museum piece. I mean. It used to be a museum piece.

[hello-universe-lovers]

Well, time for my stp au ranting (thanks @neverpathia for getting me off my ass)

For some context, have this:

SLAY THE PRINCESS: THE FIRST DRAFT AU:

(SPOILERS and OC TALK ahead)

Let's start with someone I've been referring to as the Player

(Do not mind that the sketch has a different title name. This was literally the first draft, ironically enough. And some beta voice designs weee~)

Her name is Ley, and her design is honestly what I call the "Pocket OC", a blank slate that I can insert into any universe or fandom with some modifications. For this application, she is the unfortunate Mortal that the Narrator decided would be GREAT at princess slaying!!/s

Contrary to Larry, who only had to do 5 loops to freed the Shifting Mound. Ley has to go through 11 FOR ALL THE VOICES. Since LQ isn't exactly capable of calling the voices back to him like She can. And with the "2 voice per loop" rule, she has to collect em one at a time. Fun times/s

I feel her personality is best described when I go into the routes with her, in contrast to Larry (note that they are in a specific order).

THE PRISONER:

Her first was the Prisoner. Her skepticism of the Narrator and the Princess (expressed by bringing the knife down to the basement) quickly melted away into sympathy for the Princess and resolved to save her. Unlike Larry, she didn't had to cut off her hand. Rather, she cut one of the links with the Pristine Blade, rendering it blunt. When the Narrator took over, the Princess had to bash her head against the wall, knocking her out/killing her (they have the same effect).

In the Prisoner Chapter, she woke up in chains, rather than free, and the Prisoner is her usual self. And to add to her headache, there was a new Voice with the Narrator: the Voice of the Hero (pre-egg crack). She informs her that she's been stuck here for a while, and the knife was out of their reach, presumably upstairs. Ley, not giving up, broke her thumb to get out (since the chain was for Larry's neck, not hers) and did the same for the Prisoner's wrist cuffs. With freedom and a knife again, the Prisoner asked how she was going to get her out of there. She did the same thing she did last time: cutting her free. When asked why she thought that worked and not trust her in her "alternative" plan: she did trust her, but she didn't want her to get hurt for the sake of freedom. Hero encourages her on with her choices, seeing how far a strong will can get you, as well as subtly demonstrating she can still influence this world, even for a human.

But, as the Shifting Mound claims the Prisoner and she finds herself in the Long Quiet. The Mirror is still there, but rather than showing her own reflection, she sees the Hero, in how she perceived the Voice, through her route. She says "Hi" to her (who finally cracked her egg) and comments on how Proud she was of Ley for keeping her good nature, even in such a difficult circumstances. However, their conversation couldn't last long as the darkness of the mirror starts taking Hero away. Hero screamed in fear, and Ley bangs on the mirror, but the Voice returns to the Long Quiet, to where she is meant to be. But she inherited Ley's Chivalry, and it will stick with her

(Don't worry, I won't rant too much with the rest, this is the first. The rest of them will be shorter)

Edit: so that was a lie!

THE RAZOR:

(Oh I forgot Stubborn went through a redesign godddd--)

Her next route is where her personality changes the Story. Let's be clear here: she isn't Larry. She has no God powers that makes her go numb to pain or make it go empty. But what she has is drive. Perseverance is a HELL of a drug, and it's what she did to Conquer the Razor.

After being stabbed by the Princess in the Chapter 1, Ley tried to give her the benefit of a doubt, but it's clear that this Princess's love language is "STAB! STAB! STAB!!", so it's time to arm up. It's difficult, she died a lot, but overtime, she realized that the arena they were in...was changing. Warps, cracks littered the walls of the cabin and basement. An idea was sown, and luckily she has the perfect voice to keep her going. Stubborn had to take a backseat, which he hated, but he got what he wanted. Clash after clash, the basement showed signs of breaking down. She even tore off one of Razor's arms to use as a sword. Once you have a goal that isn't just "winning", your motivation skyrockets. Chapter 4 wasn't named "Mutually Assured Destruction", but "the Bird and the Mountain". As the Princess showed her new form, Ley showed her plan's fruition. The basement finally gave out under the abuse, and collapsed on top of both of them. The Bladed Razor looked up at the sky from the hole that opened up, while pinned under tons of rubble and was memorized. Ley, meanwhile, made her way out of the rubble, in pain, but alive. This is where an unintended Side effect of her influence came in. Because she felt someone lifted her up and helped her approach the Razor. The Princess was surprised, but she had no regrets. In fact, she had fun!! Seeing her slowly growing to triumph over her was fun! And the stars were pretty to look at too! She was ok with dying now, promising to maybe try something else, now that the world is open to her...

But they won't have that next encounter, as Ley finds herself in the Long Quiet once more.

Stubborn was struggling against being unraveled, but he had to congratulate her. If it was him, he would have fought her over and over with no stop. But her plan not only stopped her, it also kept her going. With a brain like that, nothing could stand in her way. Ley gave her peace with him, reassuring that the Quiet won't hurt him, it's taking him somewhere he belongs. And to tell Hero she said "hi", when he sees her...

The NIGHTMARE:

With so many deaths in one loop, it left her feeling the fatigue in the next Loop. In her tired state, she decided she needed space from both the Narrator and Princess to think, so she left the basement. She didn't, however, closed the door to the basement. She left it open to show that she wasn't gonna leave her in limbo. While she thought of what to do, exhaustion finally kicked in and she fell asleep. However, when she woke up, the door to the basement was blocked by the table. She rudely asked the Narrator what happened, and that's when SKEPTIC made himself known. He came while she was asleep, and decided that it'd be safer to talk with the door blocked. Panicked, she quickly opened the door, asking the Princess if she's OK. But her haste to check on her let her tripped and broke her neck in the fall.

The next time, Skeptic is once again not being helpful. Apparently he and Narrator had a talk while she was "dead" and Skeptic doesn't believe in anything Narry is saying about their situation. Not even the ominous cabin and the drop to the basement. For once, his Skepticism kept her alive because when the Nightmare showed up, he just didn't believe she could do that. It's not Paranoid but it will do. For Ley herself, it may felt like absolute shit to have your organs barely work, but it gave her time to say sorry to the Princess and helped her out of the basement. When asked why she said sorry, when she didn't ask for it, she responded that she deserved one anyway.

In the Long Quiet, She confronted Skeptic for his mistakes...but she does thanked him for keeping her alive, even if it was accidental on his part. He apologized for his misjudgment and was grateful to meet someone like-minded. Maybe she can discover the truth of this place, where he could not. Then he was taken away, though he resisted a little.

(Bonus but between every few loops, she just crashes into Shifty to sleep. Not repeating what happened with the Nigthmare, now that deep sleep can apparently summon these guys. Not that she'd remembered)

The TOWER:

Her hesitation to kill the Princess gave the next one an Ego boost. And Smitten is here because of a misguided respect for the Tower, that could be interpreted as "love". With a voice that's all about devotion and a literal Goddess, she was THIS close to succumbing. BUT the Tower just HAD to take the face of a loved one, brcause Ley wasn't a "little bird", try and persuade her. Which just made her ANGRY. The Fury of the AUDACITY!!

Now, Smitten believed in love, and if Tower's love language was "devotion", he was gonna give it to her. And he didn't appreciate this Lady not seeing the LOVE like he did. However, in her fury, Smitten saw her memories, and of the Love that she had with this other woman. But it ended tragically and bitterly. Died by a fire. But it was REAL. A REAL love that was meaningful that was more than devotion.

Ley pushed the Tower out of the window, letting them fall into nothingness. The Tower realized that maybe using the face of a dead loved one was a bad call...but she still thinks highly of herself. Ley coldly responded "what is a God to a non-believer?"

She is taken away, leaving Ley to fall on forever. But she soon landed gently on the ground. Facing the mirror, Smitten was crying for the lost of the Tower, but also at the beauty of Ley's love. If that was what True Love looked like, maybe He could find it again. Ley told him that True Love doesn't exist. There isn't "the one" for you, just the "love" you made together with the one you choose. Smitten has a lot to think about, now...as he fades away.

The WITCH/THORN:

To go from a tragedy to a romance, Ley didn't want to betray the Princess. But the Narrator forced her hand, and in comes our "favorite" asshole. Rather than being summoned by Ley's feelings, it was the Narrator's feelings projected onto her, the rush of pulling one over on someone. Ley is NOT happy with either of these people in my head, and Opportunist was content to go back and forth between choosing a side. It got to a point where it caused her such a headache that she broke the Pristine Blade by jamming it against the root wall, and bent the handle so no one can get it out. It was an act of desperation against the Narrator and to show trust to the Witch. However, just as they were about to leave, Opportunist decided to try what the Narrator did last time. Ley struggled hard against him, which scared the Witch so much that she stabbed her with a sharp piece of root from the ground. She fell, but muttered an "I'm sorry" before fading away.

The next time she woke up, she had a pain in her chest. And the Voice was less of a voice and more of a person. This is where the Voice finally have a body of their own in the Construct, and Ley's first action was punch the ever loving shit out of the Opportunist. Blaming him for the Witch stabbing her when she was THIS CLOSE to saving her! She never wanted to betray her but the Narrator and now him were projecting those feelings onto her and now SHE has to bear the brunt of their treachery. She did stop wailing on him, but he was crying and begging her to stop by the end of it. All she did was glare in return, saying how pathetic he truly was...before walking to the cabin, skipping the Pristine Blade all together that was just sitting there. The Thorn was there, vulnerable and surrounded by painful thorns, obviously she is scared of Ley for even MORE reasons than the canon one. Because how could she still trust herself, after what she saw and almost did? Ley answered back that she resisted, every step of the way. She never stopped resisting, and she will continue to resist, until both of them made it out of here. With her bare hands, she tore into the vines, not caring if they bleed, Thorn's protest or the Narrator's attempts to make her stop via tedium. She ketp going.

Then, a tap on her shoulder. Whipping around, it's the Opportunist, one hand holding an eye that she punched earlier, and another...the Blade, extended to her, hilt facing her. He makes a non-committal reasoning for being here ("it's better to stick together" and all that) but I ranted enough about what he actually feels before...so with the knife, she cut the Thorn and the 3 of them Escaped the basement.

In the Long Quiet, the Opportunist stood before her. The root that stabbed her chest was now in his and blooming a rose, and the shiner she put in his eye was now a poppy, like the Thorn's. He...apologized, truthfully, for his actions. There is no one to witness them, so to him, this was his only chance to say sorry. He just wanted to live...and that blinded him to the opportunities that he could have gotten, if he was kinder. Ley said that she...won't accept it, not yet...but she can acknowledge that if he's truthful, than one day, she will. And that she wasn't the only person he'd hurt. Thorn was too...if he see her again, he has a lot to make up for. He begged to not be taken away, to not die or be asleep before he got to say sorry to her. But something tells Ley that he will see Thorn again...but she won't.

((I am stopping here because I am CRAMPING: tune in next time for Broken, Cheated, Hunted, Paranoid, Cold and Contrarian!

And thanks for making it this far. It was...very nerve wracking to do this. To show my work like this outside of friends so I hope this resonated with you and I hope you asked me questions about them.

[axel-the-goat-guy-and-gal]

With the seven chaos emeralds we can break the barrier that has trapped monster kind underground so we can go super saiyan and with our powers combined we can make sugar spice and everything nice which are the key ingredients for restoring voltrons power to defeat ganon and seal the power of the one ring into the depths of mount doom to unleash the power of the elder scrolls which defeats the king koopa and saves the princess in another castle which the only way we can get there is the power of friendship and spock the rock doc oc and hulk hogan used the power of the infinity stones to go back and time and stop myself from building the warp drive which tears a hole into adventure time come on grab your runes to defeat ornstein and slay the princess while in a time loop with Siffrin and Bill Murray to get slimed as the master chief and arbiter need to destroy a halo ring to save gotham from darth vaders death star and theres something strange about gravity falls with the facehuggers that need your boots your clothes and your motorcycles to win the race versus vin diesel as megamind steals the ion cubes to power up the precursor base which leads to new vegas with spurs that dont speak german neither theyre lookin for money in order to buy some fresh chicago styled pipis in the outback dennys steakhouse at 3 am herobrine in the closet not clickbait and make to sure to like and subscribe for more awesomesauce wicked zick tutorials

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

What do I Know about You - Part 3

Next in the collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan! Thanks so much for the help and the lending of OCs!

Previous Chapter Here!

Next Chapter Here!

The madness that started it all! HERE!

Also much thanks to @kit-williams for use of her oc Anrir

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @passionofthesith @egrets-not-regrets @bispecsual @felinisnoctis

Summary: The other shoe drops. And now Lullaby and Khopesh have an entirely new issue to work around, and just when things were starting to get better.

Will this bond abnormality drive the two lovebirds to fly separate ways? Unlikely but at least one of them has to be confined to a cage for study, the other is Not happy with this outcome.

Warning: Negative Self Talk, Depression, Lashing out in anger and a trilogy becoming something that is slowly spiraling out longer and longer (but we are going to present this monster in more manageable chunks). Emperor Save Us.

You lay on your side, here…in a type of room you Hoped to never have to set foot in again. 

“There is something we need to tell you, both of you…”

You'd returned to the base with Khopesh as Anrir requested. You'd even let Khopesh carry you on his shoulders as you took your short walk back. Both of you were feeling playful and You felt lighter than you had in ages. 

Ironic with how you now wished to just Sink into this hospital bed like a rock now

As you'd strode in you'd seen the ancient Nightlord again in the lobby, perhaps you'd been a bit too chipper to notice the mood was different.

“Well I said I'd be back soon, so here I am!” You joked, stepping down with Khopesh's help. “Does this have something to do with Claude or Jophiel? I was hoping to get a chance to be slightly less awkward around them.”

Anrir had shaken his head. “Not exactly,” His voice had a pensive and almost solemn air to it. That's when you picked up on something not being right. “Apothecary Hura and I will explain all we can. But in private. My office is this way.”

“Anrir?” Khopesh asked, bringing a hand up to your shoulder.

The older Nightlord nodded. “This concerns you as well Khopesh.”

You both did as you were told. And indeed Apothecary Hura was waiting for you in said office. 

The dread of uncertainty had begun gnawing in your gut. But you used Khopesh's hand and presence as a comfort and reassurance. You're going to face this Together, it will all be alright. 

But it wasn't. 

“What?” You flinched remembering your reaction. “What do you Mean my bond is mutated?”

“It has taken on a form that has yet to be recorded previously.” Hura explained. “Rather than resembling a floral structure…it resembles something else…more akin to a…fungus.”

Anrir picked up the conversation. “The ‘zap’ you felt when touching Claude, was not merely static electricity. Claude's psychery activated upon touching you, leading Cedric to call his brother Jophiel over to examine you with his warp sight.”

“He described your bond and it is unlike anything we have seen previously.” Anrir continued. “In full truth it…unsettled him quite a bit.”

You cringed again, but you didn't blame Jophiel. How would you react if you walked into your garden only to find your Petunias had turned into Death Caps? Not well you assumed. 

“But I'm not Bonded! You of all people know that Doc.” You'd protested. 

“Yes…which makes your apparent mutation all the more fascinating and bizarre.” Hura had replied. “It's like the half of the bond that remained after…the incident, took on this whole new form on its own without anyone noticing the changes, until now of course.” 

“The zap also implies you May have some nascent or yet to be tapped psychic potential.” Anrir stated. “We needed to tell you this so you could be aware and prevent, say…a less friendly reaction to a zap occurring in the future.”

That part had still been overwhelming and wild but…up to that point the things they were saying weren't truly Bad, aside from scaring Jophiel. No…it was really more the next part that made your stomach twist and your eyes scrunch up in that Awful way. 

“We also believe, with the way your bond has mutated… It may not be possible for you to form a permanent bond again.”

A harsh sob ripped through your tightly locked lips and you turned your leaking eyes into your I pillow. 

“I…I can't ever…bond…again?”

“We are not certain but…as the bonds structure and function are so radically different…”

“Different function how?” You interrupted. 

Anrir paused, he seemed to be debating telling you. 

“Different in function How, Doc?” You demanded, which would have been laughable to Anrir if the situation wasn't so…heartbreaking. 

“…When Jophiel shook your hand…your bond began siphoning his power away.” Anrir finally stated quietly. “A regular bond produces a single, stable connection of warp energy. Even if we assume that energy depletes and renews it…. Dissipates when the bond is severed, leaving it to erode away gradually.”

“Yours is alive…and is actively seeking warp energy without your conscious thought…”

Draining...Unworthy...

B...r...o...k...e...n...

“It's like a Parasite…”

Another sob wracked your frame and you pulled the hospital blankets close around you. The difference in texture grated on you but you were also too tired and upset to care. 

“I'm like a Parasite!” You felt like screaming, you felt like crying. You felt your hands coming up around your head. 

“Lullaby…” Khopesh reached for you. 

A million alarms went off at once “No!” You shrieked, jumping back and putting your hands up. 

“Easy there young one.” Hura calls out soothingly.

Anrir states, in his own sort of calming way, “We know this is a lot to take in…”

“Lullaby?!…please…why are you pulling away from me…” Khopesh reached for you.

You'd crammed yourself deeper into the office's corner. “What if my bond is hurting you?? What if it's messing with your head?!” Another even worse thought came. “What if that Thing has been sapping at Your bond with Gary and Nancy?!”

Khopesh paused, he…he hadn't thought about that…

“And what happens if this…this Thing eats up the whole bond!?” You cried, terrified and frantic. “I can't! I can't put anyone else through that I won't-” 

“Please little one, breathe.” Hura calmed you, or tried. 

You took gulping breaths trying to soothe your panic and in that moment you suddenly let out a humorless laugh. “Of course…of Course the night I Finally feel like I can move on This happens…”

“But maybe part of me deserves this?” Another fit of pained giggles bubbled up. 

“Lullaby do not Say that…!” Khopesh protested.

“No, because even though I didn't like thinking about it…part of me…part of me still Did!” You insisted. “About how I'd probably outlive both Gary and Nancy and then maybe…if I was lucky…the universe would let us have a chance to be bonded…”

Khopesh didn't know how to respond at that moment. 

“But not Only do I learn my bond looks weird!? But that I probably can't Ever bond again! Oh And! And! My bond apparently Also Sucks the Life out of whoever it Touches!?” You put your face in your hands, slumping against the wall. “I'm not just Broken…I'm a Leech…a parasite…” You mumble through the tears starting to form. 

“And worst of all I don't even know how to make it stop…” You mumble the same words you had before. Now quietly into the pillow. 

Hence why you are Here now. You can't actively stop whatever this Thing inside you is, so you're going to stay where you can't ...hurt anyone else. 

Khopesh hadn't been happy with that option. “Over my rancid corpse! You are Not taking them from me and sticking them in some Tiny bright room Alone!”

Anrir set his gaze into a stern determined glower. “It will be over your Sedated living body if you do not Stand Down, Scout.” Anrir hissed, “We must take all necessary precautions for both Them and the other individuals residing here.”

Khopesh didn't respond verbally aside from the guttural growling he was mustering up. And in that moment he Loathed, absolutely and totally L O A T H E D Anrir for trying to use his authority in this way. Feeling betrayed, and Angry and wanting so Badly just to grab you up and steal you away to his nest and Hold You until this nightmare would somehow pass and you could both go back to how things had been Before this fucking Horseshit!

“Khopesh…please...”

His snarling rage was broken in an instant. He turned his attention back to you. 

Still so far from him, even only a few feet away but withholding your touch. Not for any meanness but because you Desperately didn't want to hurt him anymore than you already might have. 

“Please…don't fight them on this.” You ask solemnly. 

Khopesh tenses up and relaxes, his hands clenching and unclenching, he is reminded of the conversation they had earlier and his shoulders slump, “For you, I won’t fight them on this… For now.”

Khopesh watches as you walk away, from the way his shoulders shift and the slight forward motion of his body, he longs to follow after you, but he doesn’t. He glares at Hura and Anrir a little bit, “Why did you or the other Apothecaries tending to Lullaby not find out about this … issue… sooner?”

“The last time Lullaby had been checked over at their last visit- such a mutation in their Bond hadn’t been noted in their file,” Hura says as he reviews some of their papers, “The Astartes run facility that they go to is local, near to the farming community that they live and work with. That clinic doesn’t always have a Psyker-Apothecary present at all times. Librarians, Sorcerers, and Dark Apostles are uncommon on Ancient Terra- and their services are… quite highly needed in a number of ways all across Ancient Terra. It’s possible this was a Sudden Development, or something that might have slipped under the radar due to a lack of resources until it reached this point, this is very much an unknown phenomenon. This is a new form of Bond- as spoken of before, is unknown, as this is the first recorded incident of it, as far as I know.”

You stay in that isolation medical cell and sit on the bed. Curling up on your side as you try not to cry again. Thinking over the information that they had been given by Hura and Anrir. Parasite. Something in your mind hissed angrily. You didn’t ever want to intentionally hurt anyone, especially Khopesh, and you worry that you might do so because of the wrongness of your bond.

You're pulled from your thoughts when someone knocks on the door and Hura comes into the room, he takes off his helmet- and your mind twinges a little when you look at his face. You look away from him.

“Do you want to call anyone?” Hura asks them. “We would prefer you not go into detail, but you have permission to inform your emergency contacts and anyone who will be affected by your absence of course.”

You think for a moment. “Yes- there are a few people I want to call,” You reply.

You pull out your phone and the first person you call is your dad, “hey dad, I was out having dinner with Khope- I mean, a friend. And I uh- happened to run into Apothecary Hura- do you remember him?”

“Oh- Apothecary Hura? That older space-man who helped you after that… nasty business with your fall,” Your father says, “... Are you alright?”

He can tell from the way your voice is hitching that you are… hiding something, worried about something. Your father shifts a little and you can hear the movement over the phone, “Bearbear, are you wanting to have some lasagna?”

“Are you wanting some lasagna?” is the code phrase that you and your parents had developed, for situations where asking for help, or if they were feeling unsafe, but couldn’t say as much.

“No, thanks for asking, dad,” You reply, a rush of fondness welling up in your heart.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?” Your father asks. 

“Not at the moment,” You say in reply, part of you wanted to blurt out what Hura and Anrir had told you, but the warning that the pair of Apothecaries had given you about it stayed in your tongue. Worried about something happening to him if you did say something.

Besides, it's not like your dad could do anything about the issue that they are having anyways. You chat about a couple of random things with your dad before hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath. Time to call mom.

“Hello Lullybird!” Your mother says happily, “How are you doing today- well tonight?”

“Oh- I had a lot of fun with Kho- with a friend,” You reply, shuffling a little on the bed of the isolation room.

“That’s wonderful!” Your mother says enthused. She’d always wanted you to at least try your hand at dating and getting out more, “how’s it going?”

“It went great,” You reply with a smile, before it fades as Hura shifts a little in place, “So uh- Funny story, I happened to run into Apothecary Hura- and he wanted to check over a couple of things, so I’m staying overnight at the Space Marine run Hospital in Gannett Point. Uh- I have a big favor to ask of you…”

“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Your mother says fussingly, “Certainly! What can I do to help?” 

“I need an emergency feeder for the farm set up while I’m… away.” You reply.

“Of course I’ll get that set up,” Your mother says, “... How long do you think your going to stay at the hospital?”

“Uh… I'm not sure, it depends on what all Apothecary Hura thinks is best.” You respond honestly.

“... Alright,” Your mother says, “... If you need or want anything else, you can call me your or your father.”

“Yes mom,” You replied with a fond smile.

“I love you, Lullybird,” Your mother says.

“I love you too, mom,” You respond. “I’ve got to go- doctor’s tests and what not.”

“Oh- of course. I’m driving back to the farm now, is your Dad home?” Your mother asks.

“Thanks Mom,” You reply, grateful for your parent’s help. “And yeah, Dad's home, should be there when you get home.”

You place your phone back into your bag, before turning to Hura and looking up at him, “I was wondering if you could ask Khopesh to bring me some stuff from my house? Just some comfort items to help me feel a little less…out of place.”

“Of course,” Hura says with a nod, “What sort of comfort items do you want him to get?”

“My stuffed rabbit, the pillow off my bed, and my childhood blanket.” You explain. “Thank you Hura- and thank Khopesh for me,” 

“Of course, but also Please let your father know that one of the local Night Lords is coming by to do you a favor, so as to not… startle him.” Hura says.

“Good call.” You nod and send a text message to dad with that information, to warn him so that Khopesh doesn’t unintentionally scare him. You quirk your lips in a half smile, it wouldn't be out of form for Khopesh to jump at an opportunity to be his usual incorrigible prankster self.

Your smile fell. But…given what you'd both just learned, and how he'd seemed when you left him…you doubted he'd be his usual self for a while. You hated seeing him look so lost and angry. 

Hura leaves the room to go find Khopesh- checking in with Anrir for a moment, who warns him of the mood one of his gremlins- er- sons is in. Hura thanks him and he heads off to find Khopesh.

He hears the sound of flesh hitting something soft and looks in to see an enraged Khopesh attacking several Astartes grade punching bags. Some of them are already busted- and watches as the younger space marine pounces on the one he's using currently; punching, clawing, and biting it as it swings and groans at his added weight. He Rips and Tears out fistfulls and mouthfuls of stuffing as if they were the entrails of an enemy, growling and snarling angrily.

Angry, Khopesh is angry, unbelievably pissed that his own Father ‘betrayed’ him by taking his Lullaby away. His head snaps up when he hears someone coming into the area he’s in. He had noticed, but had ignored it when the other people who had been in this sparring/work out room had slowly left after watching the way he had attacked the punching bags. Cowards. Something in his mind sneered as he continued to fight, trying to get his rage and aggression out on the bags, which are far more easily replaceable than something, or someone else.

As he pants a little something in him that sounded an awful lot like logic murmurs in his mind Anrir and Hura aren’t stealing Lullaby from you. He shakes his head and growls another thought coming to mind they sure as fuck are stealing Lullaby from me!

“Khopesh,” Hura calls out- making sure to not be within easy lunging range as he waits for Khopesh to decide on if he wants to acknowledge him or not. Younger brothers could be quite temperamental (not that the older ones aren’t, but the younger ones could get… rash with their actions if not allowed to process their emotions).

“What do you want?” Khopesh spits at Hura glowering at him.

“I have a request,” Hura starts.

“Like hell I’m doing anything for you,” Khopesh says with a growl- about to say something else.

“Lullaby, wants your help with something,” Hura continues to say, as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

Khopesh snapped to attention, “What can I do to help Lullaby?”

“They want some comfort items from their house, to help them handle this situation,” Hura says.

“What do they need or want?” Khopesh asks, insistence pushing his anger aside. 

“They have requested their stuffed rabbit, their bed pillow, and their childhood blanket.” Hura replies, a hand reaching out with the list of items they had requested.

Khopesh nods, he’s determined to see this task through- to help Lullaby and get these items for them. At least this way, I’ll be able to see Lullaby, once I get these items. He thinks hopefully.

He brushes past Hura without much else said other than a quick, and begrudging “Thanks,” As he exits the sparring area, who should he come across but Claude.

In truth…he knew the Primaris had also been watching him from the doorway, drawn by the sounds of his snarls and vitriol. But in his anger he hadn't cared much. He saw you lose yourself, what a Fine big brother you are after all. Khopesh pushes the thought from his mind. 

“Claude, I need you to listen carefully.” He says, grabbing the younger marine by the shoulders with a barely contained urgency. 

“Of course brother,” Claude replied, seeing Khopesh's stress. If you hadn't zapped Lullaby this wouldn't be happening. Your brother and his special one would be safe and Happy if it wasn't for you and your Curse! One of the voices hissed, he forced himself to focus on his brother's words not the ones in his head.

“Please, keep yourself aware of Lullaby, watch over them while I cannot.” Khopesh pleads, gripping more tightly as he emphasizes his next words. “Karlsor is too wrapped up in this with Anrir, I cannot ask him and he'd likely just cuss me out and tell me to be patient.”

“I must go retrieve some items for Lullaby, for the time being, keep your eyes and ears open and report anything major to me as it happens. I-” Khopesh licked his lips nervously. “I can't bear the thought of them being hurt while I cannot do anything.”

Claude seemed taken aback. “Do you really think Anrir will hurt them?”

Khopesh paused, and that once annoying voice of logic came back in his mind telling him to Not be an idiot, Of Course Anrir isn't going to hurt them! They're an innocent Baseline And he wants to study them why would he harm…

“No…or rather, not intentionally.” Khopesh clarified, finally pulling back. “I just…I need a line of communication open, so I can know their status. And if something does go wrong…” Fuck he did Not like the idea at all. “I can know I need to rush back, Please Claude.”

The Primaris marine nodded solemnly, he still felt partially responsible for this happening at all. He would help get Khopesh and Lullaby through this. “I will! I Promise.” He swore.

Khopesh nodded gratefully. “Thank you little brother. I will be back as soon as I am able.” 

“You’re welcome,” Claude says with a determined look on his face. 

He watches Khopesh head off and takes in a deep breath or two, centering himself and then heading off to where Lullaby has been hidden away and monitored by some Old Chaos Apothecaries. 

Part of him shudders at that, he knows that Hura and Anrir are trustworthy- have proven themselves to be able to not be… disgusting treacherous many-faced, forked tongued liars waiting to kill or twist them into horrific evil. Besides.. The… teal… Ultramarine also knows and is monitoring Lullaby, Anrir and Hura….

Hm… Part of him wants to call Cedric- who already knows some of what is going to help out, but that is not something he can decide on. He’s not an apothecary, and just a battle brother, a Librarian in training, yes. But still something prickles at the edge of his vision. 

Ah fuck. He focuses and grasps the feeling-sense-emotion that is a-vision-is-coming and puts it in a ceramite clad box and shoves it deep, deep in his mind. While it’ll make the symptoms and recovery Worse, after he does have the Vision, at least it’ll be after he’s spoken with Lullaby and helped guard them per Khopesh’s request.

He opens his eyes and heads to their isolation cell, he knocks and is let in. Hura seems pleased to see him- and Anrir explains that one of the tests that they want to do is see if Claude and/or Lullaby shock each other again. 

Karlsor is in the room with his arms folded over his chest as he leans against the room- the older Night Lord Librarian is going to use Warp Sight to see what happens, if anything does happen or if things go… strange.

Things that could be going… Strange can happen when Warp Nonsense happens, especially Odd, Unusual, or Unknown things happen. Claude looks around the room and at Lullaby, “... Are you alright with this test being preformed?”

“I want to know what’s going on,” You say, “I hope that this can help.”

“Alright,” Claude says, as he steps closer and reaches out a hand to you. You also a reach out a hand to Claude and brace yourself for the zap of pain to happen.

You feel no pain- and the Zap that had happened before had been noticeable in the way it felt- and others had noticed that Something had happened the first time that you and Claude had shaken hands.

Karlsor does notice- that the little feelers- the mycelium tendrils start to curl and start to siphon off of Claude. Claude does inform them when he starts to feel a bit of energy drain. Hura and Anrir are writing something down and one of the Apothecaries request that they stop holding hands.

Hura asks, “How do you feel?”

You look at him incredulously. “How do I feel?” You have to stifle a disbelieving laugh. “I feel like shit!” You say, ‘broken, useless, a disgusting parasite.’ Your mind hisses at you venomously. “I am a Fuck damned parasite.”

Hura doesn't respond for a moment, and you feel shame creeping in.

“I was actually asking if you felt any Physical difference from the energy transfer.” He clarified.

Yep…full barrel of shame pouring Right over your head and into your gut. He didn't deserve to catch strays off your fuckin pissy attitude. “Sorry…I just…I dont feel…I can't- I don't have the words right now.” You amend quietly, rubbing your fingers over your eyes tiredly. 

Physically, at least, You feel better- more refreshed and recharged, but you won’t be able to realize that now. Not with the self-hatred you feel and the downward spiral starting to make you feel worse.

Claude looks away, understanding how they feel- it’s hard being a Psyker, even if one can’t really access their powers- they are marked out as Other, as Different, as Wrong. Dangerous. A Liability, more than an asset.

“I don’t believe you are a parasite,” Hura says as he comes over, offering you one of his massive hands, “I wonder… can you siphon off the energy of non-psykers as well.”

As a Death Guard Apothecary who… survived through the Heresy and out into The Storm that was first meeting The Grandfather and the… fall into his embrace and the Becoming. Hura has met many different kinds of entities, including some forms of sentient parasites- and from what he knows with his vast amount of Knowledge, he doesn’t think Lullaby is one of them. Then again, further testing is needed.

You hesitate, but eventually move your hand over Huras, the mossy rusty texture on his palms is slightly off putting, but you brush that aside. 

“Karlsor…are you able to monitor?” Hura asks the shade wearing Night Lord.

“Yeah yeah fuckin give me a minute. Shits not exactly Easy.” He groused, rolling his joints and shoulders. 

Maybe it was a trick of your own eyes, but you thought you saw Karlsors pupils…shine, just for a moment. But you figure it was a trick of the light. You'd never seen any visual difference when being warp examined before. 

“Well, fuckin hell…” Karlsor muses as he looks at the two of you. 

“What do you see?” You ask before the present Apothecaries can.

“The little feeler things aren't Just moving over Hura's hand…” He explains. And its true. “With Claude they kinda went everywhere but with Hura…its looks like they're attracted to the ‘vines’ of his bond.”

You yanked your hand away immediately. Followed by hoping up and putting more physical distance between the two of you.

“Fuck! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“Young one please,” Hura held up his hand, trying to stave off your panic. “Did the tendrils have any noticeable effect on my bond?” He asked Karlsor, who had turned off his warp sight.

Hura had also being trying to feel or sense any changes as Lullaby touched his hand- he’s no psyker or dark apostle, but being a Grandson of Nurgle… changes you in ways that are more than just physical.

He doesn’t feel any different from before they had touched him, and even after they had snatched their hand back, he still felt normal. He lightly touches his bond, it feels the same- just as strong. With a bond full of vines, flowers and thorns.

“I don't fuckin Think so…” He groaned, clearly having some kinda of headache from his psychery usage. “When they touched Claude the tendrils kinda started glowing,” He explained. “And Claude felt the energy getting pulled, but since your bond can't Talk there's no way to know how much energy got pulled just now.”

“The tendrils lit up again…but the bond didn't seem to Change at all. At least not visually.” Karlsor finished. “Now I need a fuckin break my head feels like somebody tried to Crack it open with a hammer.”

Anrir nodded. “Very well, we'll take a break, and if you're not recovered by then, we'll have Claude examine instead.” He then turned his attention to you. “Do you require a break as well?”

You took pause at that. A little surprised by the concern you were being shown. “I'm…fine for now, physically at least.” You replied, honestly at this point…you really felt just…Just far more Numb than anything. 

Anrir took notice. “Come now, this could be quite good news. Hura's bond wasn't harmed by you touching him. It's unlikely Khopesh's would suffer either.”

That was a fair point. “But I only touched him for a Moment. There's no guarantee a bond will hold up if I'm in close prolonged contact with someone…”

Anxiety twisted in your stomach at the thought of all the physical contact you'd had with Khopesh before the reveal that this…this Thing was a factor. It made you sick to think you'd been hurting him and his bond this whole time. 

Anrir shrugged. “That is a possibility…but I suppose we won't find out unless we do more tests. And either way…”

“Do you really think Khopesh would simply give up? Throw in the towel and let you slip from his grasp because of this?”

The phrasing was a bit odd. But you couldn't deny Anrir had a point. “He'd probably fight like hell to find a way around it.” You agreed. “But…this isn't exactly a problem you can brute force.” 

“You underestimate my son's tenacity.” Anrir half laughed and scoffed. “He does not falter in the things he pursues. And neither do I.” Before you could protest the old Nightlord placed a cold yet…comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“Let us continue. I believe we may yet find a positive path forward for you and your power. After all…the most important aspect of Any ability is How it is used.”

You couldn't disagree, but you did hesitate. “A positive slant to this situation feels very far off.” You replied. 

Anrir shrugged. “Then we best get moving.” 

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗

Sylus X Evie (OC)

Warnings -> Humour, mentions of murder, Sylus getting his ass slapped, gets the tiniest bit suggestive at the end, situationship dynamic

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

I’m going to die today.

I can picture my final resting place now; a six foot hole in the ground with fresh dirt on top, a bouquet of my favourite flowers and a tombstone that reads:

‘Here lies Evie. Dead because she was dared to slap the boss of Onychinus’ ass.’

If I had more time, I would have studied black magic to make sure Luke and Kieran go out with me. But I don’t have more time, not when the re-release of one of my favourite smutty books is on the horizon with an exclusive and very limited cover.

Clearly, I value books more than my own life.

“You’re quieter than usual tonight.”

I jump at the voice, head snapping towards Sylus sitting in the driver’s seat of his car. One of several cars he owns. He isn’t looking at me, scarlet eyes fixated on the road ahead as he drives at the N109 Zone’s speed limit. In other words, faster than Linkon’s law actually allows.

“It’s nothing.” I deflect his observation as casually as I can manage. I turn my eyes to look out the front window, not wanting to risk making eye contact with him should he happen to glance at me, but also not wanting to turn away completely and raise suspicion. “I stayed up later then I should have, that’s all.”

Working for Onychinus has completely warped my sleep schedule. My patterns used to be that of a normal person, awake during the day and asleep at night, but now I’m active beneath both the sun and moon. Instead of sleeping straight through one cycle phase, I’ve learned to split my rest in two. Sunrise and sunset are my resting hours now, with daylight my free time and overnight my work hours.

Sylus hums, and the sound vibrates in my gut. I love hate the way it feels. “Reading again?”

I did fit in more reading time where I should have been asleep, but that wasn’t the cause of my hesitation to start a conversation. “Am I that predictable?”

“Painfully so.” He turns onto the street that leads to the base. “I am, after all, aware of your particular taste in novels.”

My face burns hot, much so that I cross my arms and dig my nails into my skin. “That isn’t the only genre I read. I keep more tame stuff at home.”

He snickers. “I’m sure.”

Minutes later, we arrive. I follow half a step behind Sylus as we navigate the base, the both of us headed in the same direction. My office is in his personal wing, where it has been since I got hired a year and a half ago. To this day, I still haven’t been able to get a clear answer as to why he put me so close to him. On a professional level it makes sense, being his personal assistant and all, but given the nature of his work… it seems odd to place an absolute stranger right outside your door.

Though, I’m not exactly much of a threat. I doubt a man like Sylus sees much harm in a woman whose only weapon is a pencil with a pointy end.

“Take the rest of the night off.” Sylus breaks the silence as we turn down the hallway leading to his wing.

Stunned, I come to a stop. Sylus carries on without looking back, his footsteps alone echoing off the walls. He gets a several strides ahead before I’m jogging to catch up. “But, the notes from the meeting today need to be-”

He grabs the handle of the door that leads to his private quarters, and he finally turns his head to look down at me. Not in the sense that I’m below him, but literally has to look down. “If you’re too tired to interrupt my peace and quiet the way you normally do, then you’re useless tonight.”

I huff and cross my arms. “You make me sound like someone who never shuts up.”

One corner of his mouth curls up. “Are you not aware of how noisy you are, kitten? That’s an order.”

I clamp my mouth shut to keep any witty remarks inside. Sylus waits a moment, and when he’s satisfied that I won’t argue, turns the handle and pushes open the door.

That’s when I realize that if I don’t strike now, I’ll never have a chance to do so again. The boss’ guard is down, the hallway is empty, and several escape routes are available.

Should I go light? No, better to stun him and buy myself several seconds of precious time.

Sylus makes it half a stride through the door before my hand connects with his ass, the resounding slap like a grenade in the silence.

Then I’m flying back the way we came, fleeing for my life and the exclusive book cover I’m so desperate to get my hands on. “Sorry, Sir!”

I whip around the corner, going so fast I almost crash right into Luke and Kieran. They jump to the side, pressing their backs against opposite walls and clearing the way for me to get by.

Luke cackles beneath his crow mask. “Where’s the fire, Evie?”

“I better get a signed copy, you doorknobs!”

I’m racing around the next corner seconds before their howling laughter turns into strangled yelps. My heart sinks. He’s catching up, and he’s catching up fast.

I throw myself into the closest supply closet without thinking, barricading the door with a gun rack and ducking behind a shelf of random things that I make a mental note to sort through at some point in the future. Assuming I even live to see the future.

I throw my hands over my nose and mouth to muffle my breathing when footsteps draw near. I stare through a gap between the shelves, watching the light beneath the door. A prayer my grandmother used to recite comes to mind as footsteps drew near, two points of shadow obstructing the light.

The footsteps fall silent. Neither of the shadows move.

‘Please no, please no, please no, please no, please no.’

The shadows move and the footsteps start again, the sound becoming distant until they disappear completely.

Dropping my hands, I let out the quietest sigh of relief I can manage. I’m not brave enough to risk sneaking out now, not when Sylus is still on the prowl. I’ll stay hidden in here until sunrise if I have to.

Getting comfy on the floor, I fish my phone from my back pocket. The clock reads 11:48 PM.

‘I won.’

Three hours go by. Pain attacks my spine when I finally straighten myself out, fingers numb from holding my phone and battery percentage in the red zone. I started and finished an entire book on my reading app in the time I’ve been hiding here.

No one has passed by the closet since I first jumped in here. If it was Sylus who briefly stopped outside the door, he hasn’t come back yet. Either he was still lingering somewhere in the base, or he stepped out.

Waiting till sunrise to make an escape no longer feels doable. Not if I still want to have any kind of feeling in my body.

Tucking my phone away, I uncross my legs and bite back a cry at the pins and needles feeling that shoots up them. I mentally curse out Luke and Kieran as I grit my teeth through the attack. It feels like forever before the numbness finally fades and I can stand without feeling like my legs are going to give out from under me.

The stupid wheels on the gun rack screech obnoxiously as I push it aside. Then the hinges on the door shriek as I slowly crack the closet open. Both ends of the hallway are clear, and a quick glance at the ceiling doesn’t reveal any sign of Mephisto.

I’m clear. Hopefully. I get going before that changes.

I make it halfway down the hall when something drifting from the ceiling catches my attention. It’s a black feather, and it sets my internal alarm off and has me making another scan for the mechanical crow. I still don’t see him.

The feather floats down in front of me, and my curiosity wins. My hand seems to reach out all on its own to grab it. The second my fingers brush against the soft feather, it disintegrates into black and red mist.

‘Oh fu-’

My wrist is suddenly caught in an iron grip, a pair of crimson eyes narrow, tempting lips set in a firm line. I don’t even think to run.

Instead, I blink up at him. “Hello, Sir.”

“Evie.” My name is flat on his tongue.

“About earlier,” I put on the most innocent smile in my arsenal. “It was Luke and Kieran’s idea. Punish them, not me.”

“Oh, they’ve already received what they’re owed.” He pulls my wrist until I bump into his chest. “Now, what do you think you’re owed for that little surprise?”

“Forgiveness?” Noticing the thin chain on his collar was undone, I fix it for him. “You know, Sir, I think it would be good for you to practice leaving yesterday’s grudges in the past. A handsome face like yours should eliminate as many causes of stress as possible to prevent faster aging.”

He raises a brow, not at all looking convinced. “Is that how it works?”

I nod. “There has been research done. If you let me live, I can have a full report on your desk by tomorrow night.”

Sylus hums as if considering it. Then, miraculously, he lets me go. “Leave yesterday’s grudges in the past, is it? Perhaps you’re right.” He turns to the side and lifts an arm as if to say ‘go ahead’. “Enjoy the rest of your night off, Evie.”

‘I’m so dead.’

I don’t turn my back to him. In fact, I walk backwards while holding eye contact with him, the amused smile on his face a mask for something more lethal. It’s only when I’m forced to turn a corner that I let him out of my sight.

My steps and quick and paranoid, the base seeming to stretch on endlessly before I finally make it to the exit. Then I actually make it outside, the full moon and cool air welcoming me in celebration of my survival.

“Huh.” I cross my arms and pinch my chin between my thumb and index finger. “I can’t believe I actually got away with-”

Something slaps against my ass with a swift, sharp strike. I jump in surprise, a startled yelp forcing itself free from my throat. Eyes wide, I whirl around to find Sylus smirking down at me with one hand casually tucked in his pocket, the other hanging at his side.

“Sir!” I exclaim, rubbing the spot he hit. It was tingling, though I can’t say if it’s from the slap or the knowledge that it was him who touched me. “What happened to leaving yesterday’s grudges in the past?!”

“You’re so naive, kitten. For a man who is more active at night, ‘yesterday’ is still today.” He closes the distance between us and leans down until his lips are at my ear. “Pull a stunt like that again, and I’ll bind your wrists until you’re begging me to set you free. Do you understand?”

My breath hitches. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He nips my earlobe before pulling away. “The driver will take you home.”

Even after he disappears back inside, I’m still staring at the door, my heart hammering and cheeks burning. Is a book cover really worth what I put myself through tonight?

My phone buzzed with a message. It’s from Kieran, showing proof that they held up their end of the bargain. Not only did they get their hands on the exclusive cover, but they got it signed.

‘Totally worth it.’

SFW Masterlist

Tag List:

@softlycandescent @goat-mama-breezie

[short-circuit-the-great]

Werewolf and her bug girlfriend start a robot car regime together. More at 10.

[racefortheironthrone]

With how much focus she has received since the beginning of the Krakoa era, what are your thoughts on Storm ? And do you agree on the perception that she's becoming something of a Mary Sue?

I’m going to start with a mini-rant about the Mary Sue.

To the extent that there is any validity to the term at all, it is solely and exclusively within the realm of fanfiction. A Mary Sue is an OC (original character) whose supposed annoying omni-competence is really secondary to the main problem with the character, which is that they warp the narrative away from the main characters of the source material - Kirk and Spock or Picard and Data stop doing things that drive the plot, and instead just stand around asking "where's Poochie?"

Outside of fanfiction and in the realm of the media that gives rise to fanfiction, a prominent character who is incredibly talented and powerful and who makes the plot center around them is called a fucking protagonist - so no, Rey isn’t a Mary Sue, Carol Danvers isn’t a Mary Sue, Katniss Everdeen isn't a Mary Sue - none of them are Mary Sues and anyone who claims otherwise is showing that they have deep-seated Issues with female protagonists in their fiction.

Is Storm a Mary Sue?

Even if we weren't talking about the most prominent black woman character in fiction, I would consider this question pretty damn offensive, both because no one would ever ask this question about a male character and - in a franchise packed to the gills with hyper-powerful women who make the plots revolve around them and who even get the complementary Love Triangle - no one sends me asks about any of those (white) women.

But to answer your question: no, Storm is not a Mary Sue - she's the main character of the X-Men.

See, when Chris Claremont took over X-Men in 1975, he did so with a brand-new cast of characters, the so-called "All-New, All-Different X-Men." In no small part because they were far more diverse and more colorful than the O5 (suburban WASPs one and all), most of these characters would become break-out stars and the core of the X-Men from that day to this.

However, Claremont didn't vibe with all of the All-New X-Men equally: he had Sunfire quit the team (repeatedly), he killed off Thunderbird for shock value (a death that has only been reversed this last year), he would have killed off Wolverine if John Byrne hadn't stopped him (Claremont would later turn around on Logan once he worked out his voice), etc.

But one character that he vibed with right from the beginning was Ororo Monroe. From the very beginning, Claremont's Storm is the most powerful of the All-New X-Men, both in terms of her powers and in terms of her personality, being the only person who can face down Logan. At the same time, she's complicated by her struggles with crippling claustrophobia caused by the Suez Crisis-induced trauma of her childhood.

After a few years, Claremont tired of the African Nature Goddess routine and had Storm experience an almost total transformation that nonetheless was completely grounded in her character. Feeling overly limited by the total emotional control required of her powers, Ororo undergoes a subtextual lesbian awakening in Tokyo's underground punk scene and emerges out the other side a free spirit, leader of the X-Men, and Queen of the Morlocks.

In his most audacious move in LifeDeath I and II, Claremont had Storm lose her powers thanks to Forge's anti-mutant tech - and then defeat Cyclops in a duel for command of the X-Men without her powers - and then regain her powers in an epic cycle that saw the X-Men die and be reborn as outlaw heroes in the Australian Outback.

In sum, Storm was clearly Claremont's favorite character and, as a result had the most interesting character journey over his 16-year run on X-Men.

Storm in Krakoa

And then Storm basically lay fallow for almost thirty years. In no small part due to the pioneering work done by Claremont with this character, later writers were frankly too intimidated to touch the character and so starting in the 90s, Storm was increasingly sidelined in the comics in favor of the characters that were commercially "hot" at the time - Wolverine and Gambit, especially.

In the 2000s, the most significant thing to happen to Storm was her marriage to T'challa. While I think Reggie Hudlin had mostly good intentions with this decision - he wanted to create a black power couple at Marvel and thus put together Marvel's most prominent black man and black woman into a relationship - the result was to make Storm a supporting character in Black Panther comics, rather than a main character in X-Men comics.

I would argue that it is only recently with the advent of Al Ewing as a major writer in the X-office with S.W.O.R.D, X-Men Red, and Storm and the Brotherhood of Mutants that we've gotten a writer who's not afraid to write Storm as she deserves to be written - as the most powerful of the X-Men, the Regent of Arrako and the Voice of Sol, the standard-bearer of Magneto's legacy, and a woman trying to balance the demands of two planets and her own desires.

[ragingbookdragon]

And I'll Be An Old Troubadour, When I'm Gone

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Word Count: 1K Warnings: None

Author's Note: Dis my favorite GS song <3 fits my OC perfectly <3 -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Ghost doesn’t typically get out of the country if he can help it when he’s on leave. Rarely does he even get to Scotland to see Soap’s family. That’s about it, but somehow, Troubadour convinces him to fly out to the States and down south to see him for the month they’ve been given. It does take quite a bit of convincing, and even a great home cooked dinner and somehow wining and dining Ghost’s pants off, but he does.

Troubadour has a fun time showing him around the town he grew up in, and even takes him to the high school he played football in. He grins widely as he sees his trophy in the case and a cheering team photo behind it. He tells him stories about getting drunk by a bonfire and almost burning all the little hair he had on his chest when he decided to jump over it and almost fell face first instead. Tells him about how he managed to whoop a rival school’s tail in a street fight in a parking lot when he was a senior. Talks on and on about how he used to spend every summer on a tube floating down the river with a fishing pole in one hand, a beer in the other, and a can of bait between his knees. Ghost’s eyes don’t give it away, but his smile is evident beneath the black face mask he wears around the town.

He drives Ghost around town, takes him to the local diner and shows him what a real country fried steak tastes like, and by the time they’re done with apple pie and coffee, Ghost is literally bursting at the seams and ready to fall over in the booth while Troubadour laughs at him. He looks good when he laughs. Like he isn’t trying to look out for everyone like Price always is. Troubadour’s good like that; the big brother they never had, the one they can go to for anything, no matter how foolish or big. He sometimes thinks Troubadour should retire and do something better with his life. Something less risky. But he knows that Troubadour is a good man, wants to do the right thing, even if he gets his hands dirty. He wants to make a difference. Wants to be the man he deserved to look up to as a young man instead of the shit father he did have. Sometimes Ghost wishes he could be a good man like Troubadour.

Troubadour tells him the cabin he’s rented is about two and a half hours out of the town and Ghost settles into the passenger seat of the 2021 Dodge RAM 1500, comfortable and content to close his eyes for a couple hours. He watches the end of the sun fall behind the mountains and watches the stars come out above the truck. So deep in his own mind that he doesn’t realize Troubadour’s hand is on his thigh until he feels his lover’s fingers gently pressing and thumbing against the roughness of his jeans. Troubadour likes to touch. He’s always holding Ghost’s hand, his thigh, his chin on the soldier’s shoulder, toes brushing his calf under the covers.

He looks over inconspicuously, taking in the side profile of the man he’s come to love so deeply, of something that came from such an admiration and respect. Ghost often wonders if Simon Riley would be the man Troubadour was if he hadn’t let his past warp him so greatly. The man’s hands are strong, firm, steady, the wheel gripped in one as he silently and masterfully turns the wheel around a winding curve when the radio plays the next song and he sees the corner of Troubadour’s mouth turn up and he starts to hum the cords of the beginning, and Ghost is almost shocked at the smooth voice that comes out of the man, like bourbon running in his veins as he sings.

Sometimes I feel like Jesse James, still tryin’ to make a name. Knowing nothing’s gonna change what I am. I was a young troubadour, when I rode in on a song. I’ll be an old troubadour, when I’m gone.

It makes something in Simon’s chest tighten painfully. Their lives are lived in an hourglass that’s running out of sand fast. Every moment is never guaranteed, no tomorrow ever promised, but the longer he spends with Troubadour, the more he hears the life he wants to be living instead. He wants to wake up at five AM for god knows whatever reason, and sit on the porch in matching rocking chairs drinking their coffee. He wants to sit on the back porch in the swing and drink bourbon as they watch the fireflies in the summer and talk about the change in football and wonder if the season will be better than last year’s. He wants to spend every Sunday going to a café where they complain about the same breakfast they always get but still eat it and can’t wait for the next time. He wants to sit on the steps of their home in the early winter months, and watch Troubadour chop wood and bitch that he could chip in instead of ogling him like a pervert but still take his sweaty shirt off anyway.

Simon begins to admit the one thing he’s always been afraid of, and that’s the fact that he actually wants to live long enough to die an old man next to the old man he’s come to love.

He doesn’t even realize his eyes have begun to sting until he blinks rapidly and takes a deep breath, looking over at Troubadour as the man simply sings away without a care in the world other than the fact one of his biggest bragging rights is, “George Strait wrote a song about me. I mean, it’s obviously about me.”

Simon feels the world collide with everything he’s ever felt and known when Troubadour looks over as if called out to him and gives him a pearly white smile.

I was a young troubadour, when I rode in on a song, and I’ll be an old troubadour when I’m gone.

Troubadour picks up his hand, kisses the back of Simon’s, an ever-present and firm promise to love him for all he’s worth for as long as he has and even into the next life and all eternity.

I’ll be an old troubadour, when I’m gone.

[magixfairyix]

~ Woo! Pokemon trainer Darcy cause why not, based on my previous post about what the Trix's teams would be.

~ I tried for her design to be very goddess-y (cause come on, she is one, but regardless) and with both round and sharp shapes, also not fully symmetrical.

~ Also, since in my mental lore, she is a duel-type dark and psychic type trainer, I tried for the symbolism of that with the crown and the diadem, the crown being a moon and the diadem being the inside of the missing part of the moon and resting over the spot called the 'third eye' (smth smth psychic abilities and energy).

~ Initially she had the four Pokemon on the right along with Unbreon and Espeon, but I gave her two of my Fakemon in the Winx Club Pokemon AU universe in my brain

~ The circle Pokemon next to Malmar is a Fakemon called Archist, and is the first Pokemon of the majority of trainers. It is a normal type when given to the trainer at the start of their journey, and it's type is changed depending on the item that powers it. Darcy's Archist is a dark/psychic type, and the item is a Whisperian Crystal that is passed down through the three leaders of the Ancestorians along with the other two crystals

~ The Ancestorians are the enemy team in this AU (ie, like team skull, team rocket, etc) and are a group of skilled trainers, scientists, and theoretical thinkers whose goal is to lean the lengths that Pokemon's powers can go and to research rare Pokemon. Though they are far from ethical, and a lot of the time capture rare Pokemon or steals them from others

~ And if you are in the Ancestorians, good luck being able to leave. Some people join out of the same drive for knowledge and harnessing Pokemon's powers, though some join out of a situation of nowhere else to go or are manipulated into joining cause they have useful skills that would be beneficial to the cause

~ Darcy along with Icy and Stormy are the three heads of the organization, and come from the Cloud Tower part of the region (as of now there is the Cloud Tower area, Alfea area, Red Fountain area, and this represents sort of the different cities and routes in those cities), and the Ancestorians have been a part of the Magix Region for a long-ass time and even the law enforcement (specialists?) can never seem to get rid of the well-protected and thought-out system

~ The Pokemon under Archist and Malmor is a Fakemon eeveelution called Thyseon, and is a psychic type. The Magix region has a lot of different areas and energies so of course Eevee thrives here the most, so it is common for new evolutions of Eevee to appear, as well as new evolutions of other Pokemon that are dependant on conditions. There is also a regional variant of Eevee in the Magix region that is white and has more fluff

~ Thyseon is known as The Vengeance Pokemon, and Eeevee evolves into it after facing tragedy leading to its death at the hands of a trainer or another Pokemon. Its need for vengeance is never sated and it takes a long time to warm up to its trainer. Its ruthless as hell, but also useful for the Ancestorians due to Thyseon's ability to warp or get rid of any person's or Pokemon's memory as it pleases

~ If you show that you are going to leave the Ancestorians or you try to run, you're gonna have Darcy definitely come after you with the Thyseon because having secret information get out like that would be bad for them

~ (This is actually part of the story of the Winx Au where all the Winx are gym leaders and my Oc, once again fucking Iorda I love her, goes to get their help to stop the Ancestorians after leaving the organization after she steals a newly discovered eeveelution (Lureon, more about it later) and narrowly escaped Darcy and her Thyseon cause the Lureon wants fucking blood and attacks the shit out of them, but I disgresssssss~)

[mystxmomo]

🩹, 🔺, 🍎 for anyone ^_^

YIPPIE. THANK YOU FOR THE ASK

Link to the ask game in question

I'll continue to talk about Enclave, Nymryn, and Ilyrae for now.

🔺 RED TRIANGLE POINTED UP — does your oc know how to use any weapons?

Most of the characters I currently am focusing on do, by nature of being DnD characters, lmao.

Enclave has a preference for smaller weapons and poison, as per her background as an assassin and a drow. She's not beating the allegations with it. She's a caster class as a cleric, but most of the spells she has access to are either ceremonial or buff spells with the aim to better help her melee. She CAN use larger weapons, but she doesn't prefer it.

Contrasting this, despite being a wizard Ilyrae is trained with a short-short sword and, my god, willing to use one. Despite being very proud of their ability to use magic, they understand it's dangerous to rely strictly on it. That said. Don't throw them out into a fight first thing, they're an insomniac and a squishy thang.

Related to the above, it was mentioned on Nymryn's character sheet, but as a result of spending most of their time around Ilyrae and having the bulk of the training they've done in recent years be with a high-elf, his fighting style is actually closer to a high-elves than a drows. Nymryn doesn't actually like fighting or violence all that much though, and most of his fighting style revolves around uh. Running away unless he must.

🍎 RED APPLE — where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

Ilyrae is canonically from Evermeet. There are not, in fact, a lot of canon cities/settlements that Ilyrae could be from in Evermeet, and I'm doing a lot of weird homebrew cultural shit (I love homebrew cultural shit) for them as a result of it. We'll name the settlement later.

While I have you here, I'm going to hold you hostage and have you appreciate how bad Early DND elves evidentially are at naming things. Horsefields my beloved.

As part of their backstory, they're canonically on an indefinite pilgrimage. They return back to Evermeet once a decade. It is their home, but they don't feel very attached to it. They have a lot of thoughts regarding the idea of what home is, and that they don't actually feel like they have much of one as a result of how they've lived most of their life. They don't believe that traveling as much as they have has humbled them, in as much as it's made them feel more alien and uncomfortable in a world they already feel disconnected and uncomfortable within.

Fun fact! I haven't actually decided on where Enclave and Nymryn are from specifically in the underdark. They were both definitely from a lolth city, and it would be pretty easy to throw them both from Menzoberranzan (Which, to be clear, they both definitely spent a lot of time there, it's just a question of if they were born there, given that a good part of their backstory is "new blood nobility")

But I'm not sure yet. I'll have an answer on that when my brain starts fixating on that part of the underdark or I'm writing things to develop that portion of their life.

Eitherway - Answer to the second part of the question. Nymryn flat hates it. Nymryn only spent about 20 years in the underdark, and regards coming onto the surface as the best choice he made for himself. He doesn't have a lot of complicated feelings about his connection to the underdark. His feelings on the matter are a pretty black and white (And, purposefully, a little immature) "That was a bad place, and I was only hurt there, so why should I care about it or the people there?"

Enclave, on the other hand, has a much more nuanced approach to her feelings on it and the people in it.

Something about Enclave's character that I haven't gotten the chance to talk about is that she is someone who, for better or for worse, does have empathy as a driving force of her character. That idea of empathy is deeply warped by her own lived reality, but it is there and functional to the point of being a flaw. Love and Empathy are a moral neutral to her - That she once loved the underdark will forever influence her opinion on it, even if she understands logically that it's somewhere that changed and hurt her and the people she cared about to an unforgivable degree (This also extends, for what it's worth, to people.)

(As an aside, Enclave and Sabdra are two sides of the same coin when it comes to how they see the underdark and, by proxy, lolth. They both... see past the curtain, so to say. Which is to say, they both understand that Lolth's influence towards the underdark is not actually one interested in power or survival of the fittest, but chaos and control. Enclaves response to this was, of course, finding the god that she saw as doing the most to combat that, while Sabdra's response is becoming loyal to the ever changing tides of that chaos.)

Ultimately, Enclave likes the surface better, and realistically understands that she is healthier and safer on it. She firmly believes in practice that it would be best for drow to leave the underdark, and see's it as unforgivably war-torn and a place that will be lost to it's own struggles due to lolth's influence. You need to understand - As empathetic as she is, she IS absolutely still someone incredibly arrogant about her heritage. She believes drow are great, being a drow is great, and that they deserve the power she's helping to gain.

However, there's always going to be a part of her that is both deeply homesick and nostalgic for an idea of the underdark that never actually existed, and couldn't have ever existed. Because there was a period of her life that she loved it.

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

So, I don't actually like. List out what a lot of my characters mental health issues are a lot. Mostly because it's one of those things that I feel like the narrative should speak for itself, rather than like I'm advertising that it's something they have. However, because you're dangling the keys in front of me, I will give some of my thoughts on what I intend them to have.

Enclave and Nymryn are both, MAYBE to the surprise of NO ONE, suffering from varying level's of PTSD and Trauma and coping/healing very differently as a result of it. Just fact of life coming from the underdark, you don't come out of that place well.

Enclave has like. Unironic psychosis. This is separate from everything else going on with her and with what lolth did to her, which. While I think is a metaphor for getting disabled within your adulthood and being forced to relearn how to function and perform with that disability, I would be a little uncertain in putting a one-to-one label on it and a real world disability. But it is one, and that is what it's exploring.

Nymryn is, in fact, missing an eye. He doesn't have a magic prosthetic in there yet.

Worth saying - I've calling Ilyrae the most autistic elf I've made and it wasn't like, a joke in the slightest. Keep that in mind with phrases like "They don't believe that traveling as much as they have has humbled them, in as much as it's made them feel more alien and uncomfortable in a world they already feel disconnected and uncomfortable within."

[daydream-cement]

Vines Forever Intertwined Ch. 3

Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Larissa and Fern make it to the safehouse.

Authors Note: Sorry this has taken so much time to write! I hope you enjoy!

The shapeshifter’s tone turned aggressive, her arms folded over her chest in a defiant manner, “We need to go home. We need to get back to the girls.”

Your hands gripped the steering wheel and you kept your gaze alternating between the road before you, the review mirror, and the directions pulled up on your phone. The best you could do at this point was trying to convince Larissa that you needed to keep going. “Riss, Agent Thatcher specifically said we need to stay away from Nevermore. Let’s go to the safe house. We need to rest and come up with a plan.”

“How can you say that?!” Larissa reached out and hit the dashboard in front of you causing you to jump. You hadn’t expected the sudden wave of visceral anger from your wife. “We have always been perfectly safe back home. If I can survive the Addamses, undead pilgrims, and psychotic ex-lovers, I think I can handle these people.”

It was too late to go back home. The drive would take another day and would necessitate the need to stop for gas - something you were not willing to do considering the assault you both faced in the parking garage. The safe house truly was the safest option right now. 

“There is no need for the dramatics. We are a few minutes from the safehouse... After everything that happened, we should just get somewhere safe.”

Larissa fell silent, obviously fuming that you could ever suggest not rushing back home immediately. For what was supposed to be a romantic getaway, you were certainly headed in the opposite direction. 

You completed the rest of the drive in an agonizing silence. 

While you drove, you couldn’t help but glance over into the passenger seat, but you weren’t looking at the shapeshifter. No, you were looking at the handprints melted into the car window - a now permanent fixture to remind you of the life threatening situation you both had been in an hour earlier. You found the warped window to be a terrifying symbol of life or death situations that were likely to come.

When you pulled into the driveway of the safehouse, there was an agent waiting for you both in the front driveway. After the car was in park, Larissa exited the vehicle wordlessly, still giving you the cold shoulder. 

With a roll of your eyes, you exit the car, coming face to face with the agent you would be staying with. The man was significantly taller than Larissa and you found yourself needing to take a step back in order to look him in the eye. He was undeniably handsome with a thick mane of dreadlocks and a joyful, wide grin, making you feel automatically at ease.

There was a golden glint to his brown eyes as he stretched out a hand, squeezing your hand just a little too hard. He spoke with a deep gravel to his voice, “Agent Morris. Nice to meet you. Let’s get you both inside so I can hopefully provide some clarity on everything you have been through in the past couple of hours.”

“That would be grea-”

Larissa rounded the car, cutting you off by ordering the agent about. “We need to get back to Vermont. We have no time to waste by playing spy with your organization. I have a school full of children who need me, two of them being my own, mind you.”

The agent didn’t seem phased by the shapeshifter’s demands and rather he offered her a smile and stretched out a hand to greet her as well. “I understand your concern, but you are a logical woman. Your children are more valuable to you alive, and I can assure you that your life and theirs will be in jeopardy if you choose to travel home.”

The headmistress clenched her jaw in response and turned away from you both, striding towards the house defiantly. 

The agent was kind enough to help you with the bags, offering you a quick notes version of the organization you were up against. You entered the old and cozy home and spotted the straight-faced shapeshifter who aggressively disappointed in you. As much as Larissa seemingly wanted you to sit elsewhere, you took a seat on the couch next to her, ready to hear the agent out.

“The company known as ‘Outcast Vitamins’ or ‘O-Vitamins’ is looking to bottle outcast abilities. This I’m sure you already know, but what was kept from you is the interest the company has on you both in particular.” Agent Morris took a seat across from you and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“Both of your abilities are well known in the outcast world and they are more of interest to normies who are looking for a supplement they could take to give them abilities that are a little less... life altering.” As he spoke, he gestured towards you both when referring to your powers and to himself when mentioning lycanthropy. “Growing plants and shapeshifting-at-will may be a better selling point with the average consumer than lycanthropy or vampirism.” 

You inquired deeper, hoping to sell Larissa on the seriousness of the subject, “But what does that mean? What do they want from us? Do they want our DNA or something? ” 

“The process is... painful to say the least. There have been werewolves, vampires, and a siren that have been experimented on for the past few years. It’s sold as a medical study where people believe they will get paid for a few test trials, but...” Agent Morris glanced down into his hands, hesitating on having to share the survival rate. “About half of them survived... The issue with experimenting on the two of you is that your cellular makeup is different from the others. Larissa especially... Shapeshifting is something professional outcast scientists barely understand, let alone a few hacks in a lab. They would experiment and test on you for months before they might get something viable.”

Larissa spoke up, her hand reaching out and protectively squeezing your knee, “Again, what about my children and students? I have many outcasts that have a variety of abilities. Luring me away from them does not reassure me that they will be kept safe.” The intensity and coldness of Larissa’s tone seemed to have no impact on the agent. You felt the need to wince, knowing Larissa would be willing to escalate the argument if she felt it necessary. 

“I assure you there is no luring of anybody. We have agents on and around the premises of the school. According to inside sources, the company wants you two. A shapeshifter and a plant manipulator. Not only are your powers perfect for consumers, but they are particularly potent. You are both powerful and very in control of your abilities. O-Vitamins is very aware of your professional and personal history. They know what you are capable of.”

“We are just educators and mothers…” You rationalize, trying to push away the thought that there were people out to find and potentially harm you.

Agent Morris only smiled and shook his head, “I think we both know that isn’t true, doctor.” 

——

“Not only could we die… but they are after shapeshifters. Althea is in danger. Oh my god! What about my parents?” Larissa choked out the words as she dropped herself on the edge of the bed, trying to get the words out before she knew she would begin to cry. 

She looked up at you with tear-filled eyes, her arms parting as a silent command for you to hug her. You take two steps and position yourself between Larissa’s legs into her open arms. Her arms were soon raveled around you, squeezing you tight and pressing her face into your abdomen. 

You went about helping Larissa relax in the best way you knew how: unpinning her hair and gently massaging her scalp as you provided her comforting words. “We have no choice but to trust these agents. They will take care of the kids. Your parents are more than capable of taking care of themselves.” 

With her face planted into your abdomen, she shook her head, not wanting to believe everyone would be okay without her there. Larissa was preparing herself for worst case scenarios and you knew how hard it was to pull her out of anxious ruminating once she had already started. Typically, Larissa was the one to pull you out of your own emotional spiraling, but seeing her so vulnerable caused you to jump into action. 

“Honey, look at me...” You shifted your hands to either side of her face, pulling her away and holding her still as you crouched so as to look up into her eyes. Larissa seemed determined to look away from you for a moment, most likely due to her own embarrassment over crying, but you were more firm in your tone to make sure she knew you were serious. “Look at me.”

With sad (and somewhat pouty) eyes, Larissa met your gaze, shaking her head as more tears pooled in her eyes. 

While you didn’t have a full plan worked out, you needed to distract Larissa somehow and get her attention focused on something she could control. “We need to finish what we started and we will be back home before we know it.”

Larissa leaned into the touch of your left hand, closing her eyes and sounding more defeated than you had ever known her to be, “How are we going to take down an entire company? You saw the powers of that man. I’m sure they have other outcasts that can do more than melt the glass of car windows.” 

“I don’t know how, but I’d say it would be worth it to try... How else will we make it home to Al and Vi?”

The shapeshifter paused, sucking in a breath and thinking hard for a moment. When Larissa opened her eyes again, they held a new determination and fire that was much more reminiscent of the woman you fell in love with. “Tomorrow we should sit down with Agent Morris. I want to know more about this company and what we have to do. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we will be back home with the kids.” 

“That’s my girl.” You mumble, pulling her face down to press a kiss against her forehead. Releasing her face, you pushed yourself back into a standing position and brought a hand to rest on her cheek once more, “Let’s get a good night’s rest.”

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