#or instant telepathic response

[khunyuki]

I'm sorry I gotta give ya idea!!!! For your Kn8 story what if the third division and first division have to do a mission together but when Soshiro and Gen tough Kagami was in danger they were going in the same way but accidentally hit each other in the head which turned into an argument.

A funny mission scene I presume 😎😎😎😎

Nothing to be sorry about! I always love your ideas @imthecosmicbasball<3 Don't be shy to ask for more hehe I tried to make it funny but I'm not sure how it turned out😅 I hope you still enjoy it~

"I've lived my life with blade and you always in my mind"

ʀᴇqᴜᴇꜱᴛ: 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙶𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚆𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐

Pairing/s: Hoshina Soshiro x Uzui Kagami x Narumi Gen

Masterlist: TOC

How hard can protecting someone be? To some people, it comes as easily as breathing like it's their second nature. To the JAKDF, it is their duty and responsibility to protect people from the harm brought by kaijus.

Hoshina Soshiro believes that he must eliminate the threat of kaijus to protect everyone even at the cost of his life.

Narumi Gen believes that since he is strong, there will be no one dying in his watch. (someone already did RIP Isao Shinomiya)

These two, when it comes to the person they like, will go inside the kaiju's den just to save them. Either portraying a prince charming in a white horse or a chivalrous knight in shining armor.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

The First and Third Divisions going on a mission together was kind of a rare occasion as they both have designated areas assigned to them. Even on a large scale, it would consist of the whole Eastern Division or the entirety of the Defense Force. The only chance for that to happen is when they are present at the same place at the same time.

It was a normal day, at least that's as normal as it can get for the JAKDF with no kaijus in sight. The Third Division was once again invited to the First Division to train when the alarms set off. In an instant, they dropped everything and prepared to head out.

"Why do you guys have to come too?! This is a mission for the First Division not the Third!"

Narumi Gen complained to his earpiece as he sat impatiently inside the car, his feet tapping rapidly. The recipient of the complaint was obvious to everyone.

"We're already at the same place at the same time, why not join forces to eliminate the threat faster?"

Gen could hear the annoying voice of his rival replying to him. He wanted rip his hair in irritation but he won't as having a bald spot would look uncool in the camera.

"Like hell I wanna join forces with you!!"

"Captain Narumi"

A familiar voice interrupted him before he could say any further. She was just calling his name but it somehow gave him chills on his spine.

"Please calm down"

To be honest, Kagami could say more things but decided not to as it's not really her place to reprimand her captain in public. There's a time and place for that. She could only hope he could understand that.

"Yes ma'am"

As if a telepathic connection was formed between them, Gen just shut up. He could only be grumpy even when that irritating laughter resounded in his ears, mocking him.

"The same goes for you, Vice Captain Hoshina"

"Hai~"

The laughter immediately stopped as soon as she mentioned his name. A smug smile formed in Gen's face as she also did the same to him. He thought there would be favoritism so he was grumpy but there wasn't.

The officers from both divisions, who could hear the entire conversation, couldn't help but snicker in amusement. Even the people from operations room were intrigued for they know of the rivalry and the power one person held between the two. To the First Division, it was a common occurrence, if not milder than usual. To the Third Division, it must've been quite a show to see their vice captain bend so much for a girl. Especially those present in his car could see the bright aura he's exuding.

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

The kaiju that appeared this time takes the form of a giant spider. The honju with level 7 intensity transverses around the vicinity with ease. Its yojus, at level 5 intensity is quite like the mushroom kaiju that appeared on the Third Division, are aplenty. It is quite an annoying opponent due to its ability to spew sticky, acidic webs from its venomous mouth.

Many inexperienced officers are caught in the web laid out by the spiders. Some of them, visibly creeped out at their fears thus leading to poor performances. Of course that doesn't stop the others from doing as much as they can.

"WAHAHAHA I've already neutralized 53 of them! Can you beat that Hoshina?!"

"Just 53? I've already killed 58"

"It's 63 now!"

"65"

"69"

"75"

"82!"

Majority of the yojus have been exterminated by the two, leaving their own squads with nothing to do. They even go as far as to neutralize other people's spoils leading to ire of some.

Kagami couldn't help but sigh at their petty rivalry as she eliminated the yoju in front of her. Their numbers are already thinning out yet she couldn't help but frown as if there was something wrong. The honju was already being handled by captain Ashiro so she has nothing much to do aside from not letting the yojus to slip from their grasp.

"Uzui squad have finished neutralization. Proceed to free up the disabled officers"

The mission was ending quicker than expected with the help of both division. Maybe it's because she wasn't used to it ending so quick that she's unsettled. She ordered her own squad to release their comrades from the binds, just like the others did. She, herself, is currently helping her officers caught in the web get out. The web made of unknown substance was as tough as steel yet incredibly sticky as it is acidic. One wrong move and she'll be unable to move as well.

She carefully slices away the threads to not hurt others from the unnecessary force. Thank god for the suits or it would've given them more casualties than not. The spider webs have been spewed out randomly and has also affected the building nearby, melting it down to its foundations. Rescuing seems to be harder than eliminating kaijus.

Rumblings and creaking could be heard from above and as she looked up, the building was close to toppling above them. She wasn't even half-way finished as the people she's trying to save are already panicking. Even the people from the operations room are slowly panicking.

"Platoon Leader Uzui, the building..."

"I know"

Kagami bit her bottom lip as cold sweat trickled down her temple. She's close to finishing. Just a bit more...

"Oh no! There's a stray yoju climbing! The building's toppling!"

"Platoon Leader Uzui! Platoon Leader Uzui!"

A loud crash could be heard at the area she was in along with a cloud of dust and then the signal was lost. The panicked commotion was heard by captain Narumi and vice captain Hoshina, who immediately stopped what they're doing and rushed away.

"Kagami!"

They both called out to the lady who was not responding at all. They were quite far from her location, as they were closer to the honju than hers. Using their suits to the limits just to arrive by her side. They blame themselves for not noticing it soon enough, preoccupied by their rivalry that it slipped their mind. They fear that it would be too late as they called out to her again and again, muttering curses under their breaths.

On their rush, they didn't even notice the approaching footsteps of the other as they turn the corner. They couldn't stop the momentum nor the speed of their sprint thus hitting their heads quite loudly.

"Why didn't you move away Hoshina, you bastard?!"

Narumi Gen rubbed his head to somehow relieve the pain from the impact. He must've hit it badly that its turning red and has formed a lump.

"You're the one who should've moved baka Narumi"

Hoshina Soshiro rubbed his own head as he couldn't hide his irritation at the man in front of him, the one who caused his injury.

"Maybe if you opened your eyes, you could see where you're going" "Maybe if you removed you hair from your face, you could see where you're going"

They both said at the same time as they glared at each other. This wasn't the time for this but it seemed like the concussion they got made them forget why they're running in the first place. They would've entered another round of bickering when Kagami's panting voice was heard on the earpiece.

"I'm okay! We're okay!"

There was a cough on the other side which brought them back to reality, their worries returning. A temporary truce was formed as they scolded the girl together.

"Kagami! You stay where you are, you suicidal woman!"

"E-eh?"

They both ran to her location, trying to overrun the other. No matter what happens, you can't remove the rivalry in their blood. Especially if it involves the person they like.

They could see the girl who was patiently waiting for them, on top of the ruined building. The officers she saved had long been given to the medic for treatment.

"I got here first!"

"No, it's me!"

"Not you, me!”

"Me!"

They repeatedly said they got there first as they arrived almost at the same time, which continued to confuse the woman.

'What even is happening?' Kagami thought as she witnessed the ongoing bickering between the two.

"I got here first, didn't I?!"

They turned to her as they realized that there was no end to claiming who got there first. Only a third party could know the answer.

"You both got here at the same time?"

Kagami didn't want to fan the fire as she saw the imaginary spark between the two as they glared at each other.

"Ummm..."

She didn't know what to do at the silence nor did she know the reason why they were there together. She wanted to ask but didn't really know where to start.

"Are you okay?"

They both turned to her again to ask for her wellbeing, looking all over her for any injuries. To which, she just let them be.

"I'm alright. We got away before the building could hit us. I even neutralized the yoju that did it"

That wasn't what they were talking about but if she was okay then it's fine. But still, she was reckless so they'll scold her. If there's one thing they could get along with, it would be the fact that her safety is the most important. She may not be a damsel in distress that needed saving but it wouldn't stop them from trying their best to protect her.

[wolven91]

White Lies

Esero was awash in a sea of joy, mirth, comfort, and warmth.

It was almost dizzying being surrounded by such joy. Laughter erupted across the canteen as someone bellowed a heckle at the ursidain telling a story of their awkward teen years. It was in good nature and caused another uproar of laughter as the ursidain in question doubled over in response, gripping his knees as his chest spasmed and he gulped in oxygen between uncontrolled barks of his own mirth.

The whole room was laughing together, it was intoxicating.

As an esquinine, Esero was a natural telepath, able to sense and feel the surface emotions of those in proximity as easily as one would read a billboard they walked past. Few knew the true power of an esquinine's mental abilities, which was substantially more than 'just' reading emotions. The esquinine race had struck a deal with the Galactic Community after a bloody war to spread disinformation over three hundred years ago to downplay the esquinine powers to the wider galaxy for the betterment of everyone.

After all, would the crew she surrounded herself with be so relaxed if they thought she could easily force her way into their minds?

No. Without doubt, the answer would be no.

For the sake of peace and preventing bloodshed, the esquinine people were 'empaths' and empaths alone to the wider galaxy. A white lie for the betterment and comfort of all.

The human who was sat across from her, who was red in the face from laughing so hard was the reason Esero was here. She was a guardian, a protector of the smaller, new race.

So far; an easy job.

The esquinine knew if the human knew of her true power, the trust she had slowly built up would shatter. It had taken roughly six months for the sour yellow hint of suspicion in the human's mind to be replaced with the soothing blues and light greens of trust within the human's mind. That was something Esero was willing to protect with her entire being.

It was because of this passive ability, that Esero was unable to prevent feeling others' emotions, that she felt the oily, purple, bubbling sensation of pure hatred and malice felt by a whole group of unseen forces lance into the room, a split second before the canteen exploded.

Esero had already begun launching herself at the human, across the table much to their initial shock, just as a spike, large enough to fill the room; punched through the ceiling in an explosion of fire, sparks and screaming.

They were being boarded.

Before the human and esquinine could get to their feet, the boarding spike disgorged a screaming rabble of a mixture of different races. The pair of them lay low as weapons fire began lancing through the air, cutting down any that stood in their way. The ship shuddered again and again as similar boarding spikes battered the besieged craft.

Esero touched a finger to the side of her head and focused on a felinoid who had just used a curved blade to slice the throat of one of the crew.

Her mind tore through the wet paper membrane of the felinoid's defences, completely unprepared for the intrusion. Her mental control was instant, gripping a hold of the grey matter inside and demanding the knowledge she sought. What was their goal? What were their instructions?!

To an outside observer, the felinoid froze and went tense, fear gripping its body until it voided their bowels, tears streamed from their eyes as the monstrously large mental assault crushed any hope of resistance. The question the all-encompassing force demanded was instantly answered:

'Take the food, the others will take what's near them. Don't hang around, the ship won't be around for long. Kill anyone.'

The esquinine forced the concept of 'sleep' into every corner of the felinoid's mind at once and the creature tumbled forward, in a collapsed heap amongst the dead of the canteen. It was a total invasion with no intention of leaving the ship or its crew alive.

"Up! We need to get to the pods!" Esero ordered to the human who didn't need mentally nudging to get them moving. Fear gripped them which Esero had no judgment for; she was scared too. But unlike the human, who had been denied a weapon, she was not helpless.

The pair of them slipped from the canteen during the panic. Most of the crew were dazed and already being picked off. The esquinine regretted she could do little, but she was not all powerful and spreading herself too thin would render both herself and her ward vulnerable. All they had to do was get down the corridor and turn left. At the end of the second hallway, was the bank of escape pods.

As the pair ran, a trio unknown creatures appeared from around the bend, armed to the teeth and pointing at her ward with ecstatic grins. A canid, and taurian and an ursidain, bringing up the rear. They obviously hadn't expected the human on board, but neither had they expected the mental domination of their minds either.

Esero thrust out a hand at the first, a canid with red, dripping claws, his defences were non-existent. A creature without discipline, this one must have given in to any desire he ever had. As such the force in which she reached into his mind would have left him a simple drooling mess if he lived, but she had no intention of allowing him breathe a moment longer. The esquinine twirled her hand at the wrist, as she and the human continued to march forward, the human's hand locked within her own grip. She brought her arm out to the side, fingers splayed and the canid copied perfectly, slashing deep gouges into the taurian to his side. The taurian wailed and flinched, looking round betrayed, snarling.

Esero used the same hand to reach up to her neck and roughly dragged her fingers across her soft flesh there. The canid copied and tore deep grooves into his own throat, spraying the corridor before the hold on him was gone and he fell forwards. The two other raiders looked shocked and confused, taking a step back at the display, not trying to reach out for their former crew mate. By the time the taurian's worried face glanced back the esquinine's way, her terrible gaze was already on the pirate, her eye glowing blue and furious.

In the taurian's hands was a piece of mining equipment. Placed against solid rock, it would force an explosion into the material, breaking it apart for processing. Fired like a gun, it would send shards of near molten metal fragments out in a devastating cone of violence, it's recoil was too much for any but the strongest to wield. The taurian began to raise the gun up but suddenly changed her aim. With one hand now, pointed the gun to the side and up at the third and final marauder, the ursidain.

The ursidain's eyes went wide just as the tool fired, erasing the ursidain's head in a shower of gore and liquidised meat and bone. The taurian's wrist snapped with the force of the explosion, shattering the bone and tearing muscles in one ear shattering 'boom'.

By the time the taurian had slumped to her knees, drooling and wordlessly moaning like an animal, Esero was upon her.

The esquinine merely laid a hand to the taurian's head for a moment, and to the human's shocked perspective the taurian immediately snorted, blood shooting from her nostrils before the beast collapsed backwards, eyes rolled back in a horrid display. Esero had only touched the monster for but a moment...

The rest of the pair's flight was uninterrupted as they made it to the pods, the human practically thrown in before being joined by Esero.

The pod fired and fled the doomed vessel, disappearing into the void, it's black paint and low profile making the pod near impossible to find by all but those who had the SOS beacon codes.

It was then, that Esero turned to the human, who had curled themselves into a corner as far from the esquinine as they could. Wide, fearful eyes watched her.

"I mean you no harm." She offered honestly.

"You said it was just emotions... You did that." Accused the shorter creature.

"To save us."

The human didn't respond, but the waves of distrust and need to tell someone else told Esero everything she needed to know. With a heavy heart she stood and moved toward the human. The human flinched and scrambled backwards as if they could push themselves deeper into the corner.

If she did nothing, the human would tell any and all that would listen. The races would turn on the esquinine and they in turn would defend themselves. The resulting bloodbath would be like the galaxy hadn't seen in a millennia. Esero couldn't allow that.

"No! Wait!" The human begged, hands up warding the esquinine's fingers away.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as a soft hand lay against the human's forehead, despite their best efforts to fight the larger alien off.

The human's mental barriers were stronger than those of the pirates. They had no desire to control themselves. To practise self-discipline. To guard themselves. But the human had those traits. Their mind resisted, but ultimately had no hope of winning.

Esero read through the human's mind as tears ran down the flesh of the tiny alien cheeks, they could feel what she was doing. Having found the moment that Esero dove over the table at the human, she erased the memory of everything that happened afterwards with a gentle caress across the human's forehead, as if merely wiping away condensation from a mirror. The human stopped fighting her.

Esero released her hold. The human immediately gasped and blinked, visibly confused as the esquinine's hand moved away.

"Wha- where?"

"In the life pod, are you okay?" The telepath asked, showing the genuine concern she felt.

"The explosion! What happened?!"

"Pirates. They boarded the ship and began hurting everyone. I brought you to the escape pods and we're here now."

"You saved me?"

"You're my ward little one. I'll always protect you."

"W-what about the others?"

"Some of the pods were already launched. Some will have made it out, others may not have. We won't know until the GC arrive and pick up the pods."

The human sagged and gave a heavy shuddering sigh.

"You're safe... It'll take time to process this, but you're safe now."

"Thank god you were there Esero..."

The esquinine pulled a tight smile that she didn't feel as the crushing guilt of her actions weighed heavily upon her.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[evalulu]

Jean/Scott/Warren!

There was never a dull moment in the lives of the X-Men.  Even though Warren wasn’t part of the active team anymore, he was one of the first five - Xavier’s first students and the first X-Men that existed.  It was hard not to feel like part of the X-Men still, to not consider himself part of the team, especially when he was frequently called on to help, whether that was with the X-Corp business, defending Krakoa, or just generally being a hero overall.  He really wasn’t supposed to be an active fighter, but it was what he was trained to do since being a teenager.  And besides, there was still an almost unbelievable amount of danger in the business world, cutthroat didn’t even do it justice.  He really enjoyed the simpler moments of just doing good and not being questioned at every turn, or having to watch his back for any hint of betrayal.  

He was thankfully a tough guy, though, able to withstand a decent amount of punishment while being lightning fast in the air.  Maneuverability was his practiced strength, and he was sure he was the best at flying with all of his training.  But even with all of his prowess and a healing factor to back him up, he still got hurt.  While things rarely ever let him rest properly, he could push through it.  He had to when Scott had called, and needed the aerial superiority that Warren had.  He had to push aside singed and missing feathers, but at least transitioning his wings to the sleek metal regrew them in an instant.  And now, he could focus on taking care of strange monsters from another dimension, a rift opened as the result of playing with powers far outside of mortal comprehension.  

Traveling through a Krakoan gate and flying fast to the north Californian coast, it didn’t take Warren long to rendezvous, already seeing Scott and Firestar waiting.  The young Mutant was proving to be a skilled X-Man So far.  

“So, what are we looking at?”

Scott, arms crossed, lets out a soft hum.

“One moment.”  

Warren tilts his head, moreso just wondering what they were waiting on until Magik's characteristic stepping disc appeared.

“Now,” Scott starts, “Rictor and Magik will prioritize closing the rift.  Firestar and Angel, you'll keep them engaged and limit their destruction.  Jean has located them traveling north. Don't let them get any farther.  Firestar, are you alright with staying in telepathic contact?”  

Simple enough; And Firestar gives a nod of confirmation at Scott's question.  Warren knew she wasn't the fondest of telepaths, or at least of Emma Frost.  Which was probably a story for another day.  And besides, he was keen to take off and get into the action.  

“As always, be careful.  We don't have much solid information on what these creatures are capable of, but they've so far been largely difficult to spot via visual contact.” 

Another brief response of confirmation was all Scott was looking for, and Warren knew that.  He kept himself alert, trying to spot anything that just didn't seem right.  Firestar, to her credit, was using her powers to fly and as a sort of detection if anything was disrupting the air unseen to the eye.  And if he were anyone else, he would've missed it; the glimmer of light that just didn't look right.  

“Firestar, there!”  Warren directs, and the heated blast hits something full force that lets out a horrible shriek.  Whatever camouflage it had faded, revealing a creature similar to a manta ray albeit without a stinging tail.  It was like its skin reflected the light, and newfound burns disrupted it.  These things definitely couldn't stick around.  There were probably more of them too, but Warren wanted to be careful with his flechettes.  While a few blades hit their mark on the injured creature and quickly work to paralyze it, that’s when he gets a good look at the underside of the creature revealing a large maw of colossal razor sharp teeth and tucked claws shaped like scythes.  And finding out how deadly those were was not on his agenda.  

He caught sight of another creature, and darted for the more open ocean off the coastline.  Keep them distracted; that was the goal.  While their course had turned back towards the rift, probably sensitive to whatever work Rictor and Magik were doing, this was the time to really let loose and not let a single of these monsters do anything more.  He turned to climb skyward, a few flechettes making sure that he drew the monster’s attention.  But as he climbed, he could see the way light reflected off the creature and how quickly it gained on him.  Maybe he couldn’t outspeed it, but he could outmaneuver it.  He moves into a loop, seeing the monster speed past him and try to turn around to dive on him.  But it just takes one powerful beat of wings to send more flechettes towards the now extended claws, while enough hit their mark, the feeling of those sharp claws scratching against his wings were not at all pleasant and forced a grunt of pain from him as they managed to cut him.  

But he’d heal just fine, and now he sped back towards the coastline to get sights on more of them.  

“Scott, how’re things there?”  

“Fine,” He says back, but Warren could tell that something was up.  And it wasn’t that much of a surprise to hear Jean’s voice in his head, with her maintaining the telepathic connection.

“Hurry back, more of those creatures are trying to stop Rictor and Magik.”  

No time to waste now; Warren pushes to his maximum speed to get back as quickly as he can.  Classic Scott, having a plan already that wouldn’t call for backup.  But he was already on the way, and already able to see the familiar blasts hitting some of the monsters.  And he was handling it perfectly, though Warren could see a creature coming in for a dive bomb.  Easy enough to intercept, he figured, as he climbed higher and focused on the beast.  

“Scott, incoming!”  

He collided directly with the monster and turned to open it up to a direct blast from Scott.  It shrieks from the hit, and the claws fully extend to reveal the jagged teeth (for lack of a better term) on the inside of the limb.  It tries to grab hold of Warren’s wing, managing to tear a good chunk of the metal feathers to pieces.  He lets out a shout then, but he’s able to still recover and keep himself from crash landing.  

“Warren, are you okay?”  

Jean’s voice in his head was concerned, and he let out a breath to compose himself.  

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”  

He’d worry about it later, and besides - this was far from the worst he’s ever experienced.  He could still fly fine, and with Firestar reconvening back at the shoreline and helping with the monsters, it was a simple task to hold them off long enough for the rift to be closed.  The creatures went with it, vanishing with little more than a screech to signal their departure.  At least that was that, and Warren for once was glad to land.  

“You look a few pounds lighter, Angel,” Magik spoke up, and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes.  

“Veeery funny, Magik.  I’m fine.”  “You seem so, so I wasn’t asking that.  Time to head back home.”  

She opens a stepping disc once more, bringing them all back home to Krakoa.  Warren’s priority now was to find a spot where he could relax and worry about his wing.  Scott was sure to have to report to the Council how things went, and that would give Warren some free time.  Or at least, he was assuming, until he heard Jean’s voice in his mind again.  

“Warren, you’re hurt.”  

He knew that tone, that obvious worry when Warren’s first solution would be to isolate himself and handle it himself.  And he knew he really shouldn’t if he didn’t want one of the most powerful telepaths he knew to come looking.

“It’s not that bad, Jean, really.  The damage’ll heal when they transform back.”  

And that was true, they would.  It’d hurt like hell, but they’d be pristine white feathers again with hardly any indication that something happened.  He’d be exhausted, sure, but he didn’t have anywhere to be.  

“I know, but still.  You know we’ll worry.”  

He can’t help a soft laugh then.  She wouldn’t force him, he knew, but it was also painfully clear that she would much prefer if he spent his time resting in the Summers house on the blue side of the moon.  And while he adored the breeze he felt on Krakoa often while flying, the moon wasn’t so bad.  

“Alright, alright, I’m on my way.”  

He was definitely a bit amused.  He wasn’t that reckless young guy anymore, charging headlong into danger.  And he was tougher now, with a healing factor that helped him and his much stronger form that he had learned how to control.  But, in the same breath, it’d be nice to be able to relax with the people he had known the longest, and trusted wholeheartedly without hesitation.  It was an easy enough task to fly to the gate that would take him to the house, landing once he was right outside the gate and stepped through.  That was one thing that was always sort of interesting - suddenly being in a brand new place altogether.  But then again, all the times traveling through them at least made them feel more normal.  

The moment he was in the Summers home, he was aware of just how quiet it was.  The kids must be busy with something, Alex out somewhere, and Gabriel off to God knows where.  But he wasn’t going to worry about that at all, especially when he was keen to lay back and relax.  He sat down on the couch and let out a soft hum then, and it didn’t take long for Jean to meet him.  

“Warren, it’s always great to see you.”  

He gives a soft laugh then, waving to Jean as she steps around the couch.  “You too, always.  But I mean it, I’m fine!”  

Jean answers him by running a hand over the still metallic feathers, gentle and careful though it was very clear that she knew how to avoid being cut by the flechettes, and stopped right at the part where the feathers had been ripped off.  He took that memo clearly enough.  

“Okay, it will be fine.  Is this the part where you offer to keep me from feeling the pain of them shifting back?”  

“If you want, I’d like to help.”  

And he knew that Jean meant it wholeheartedly, but wouldn’t push it if that wasn’t something he was comfortable with.  He generally disliked anyone messing with his mind, but there were a select few he trusted.  So he lets out a soft breath, nodding.  “That’s fine, just dull it so it’s more bearable, maybe.”  

She nods at that, only dampening Warren’s ability to feel pain as he willed his wings to change form again.  Like this, it still hurt, and he could still feel the way the feathers rapidly regrew to fill in the empty space, but it wasn’t as bad as it once was; when his wings first became white feathers again.  He had to make sure to keep taking steady breaths, stay focused and composed.  Once they were back to their normal form, he leaned back against the cushions in relief. 

“Are you sure you feel okay, Warren?”

Jean asks, and he can't help a laugh.  

“Yeah, I feel alright, especially thanks to you.  I appreciate you, Jeannie.”  

 “That’s good to hear.”  Scott’s voice makes Warren jump, because hell, wasn’t giving a report on things more time consuming than that? “Sorry Warren,” Scott says as he comes around the back of the couch, standing off to the side.  “I just wanted to come and check on you myself.” Warren can’t help a laugh at that, shaking his head.  “I’m telling you both, I’m fine!  I’m not fragile!”  

But he knows why they worry so much, and it’s not as if it’s unwarranted.  With all the pain they’ve all had to endure over the years, it was natural to worry about each other.  Scott worried about others, sought to make sure they were okay and safe.  It was what the leader did, so his own tone wasn’t upset; it was more playful and lighthearted.  

“I know, but still.”  Was the unsurprising answer from Scott.  Even after all these years, some things didn’t change.  

“Is this going to lead into a question of staying to take some time off?”  He can’t help teasing, and while Scott shakes his head, Jean lets out a hum.  

“Not if you don’t want to,” Scott starts, but Jean picks up.  “But it’d be nice to have some time with you.”  And Warren understands that sentiment.  They would generally have plenty of time to enjoy the peace and quiet, if all things went well, but taking moments now while they fought to keep themselves safe day in and day out was always a warmly welcomed respite.  And if there was anything that Warren appreciated, it was a comfortable night in with his loved ones.  

“Alright, I’ll stick around.  You’re lucky I love you both.”  He jokes, and Jean gives him a warm smile and tousles his hair just a bit as she stands.  “Love you too, Warren.”  And she even goes as far as pressing a kiss to his forehead before she walks off.  That leaves Warren just a bit dumbfounded, because that was new.  And when Warren looked over to Scott, he was sure the stoic leader had an amused smile on his face.  There was definitely a whole conversation that those two had that he missed out on entirely.  

“What did you two say?”

Scott just hums.  “Nothing.  You heard us, didn’t you?”

Warren rolls his eyes dramatically at that.  “Alright, you cheeky weasel.  You know what I meant.”  

Scott laughs then, only moving to follow after Jean with a wave to Warren.  Some sort of movie night or otherwise relaxed time seemed in order, reminding him when things were much simpler and they were just heroes doing all they can.  And truthfully, it was a welcome familiarity -  and Warren was just fine with that.  

[dujour13]

OC Kiss Week - day 3

For my friend @arendaes - a magic azata kiss for Ariadne 🦋💜

The Best in the World… continued

The planar gate briefly fills the air of Golarion with sparkling rainbow rays, releasing a flock of golden hummingbirds and two demigods before it snaps shut again.

“It’s an emergency,” Daeran declares. There’s something in his defiant stance that warns them: if they argue, they’re in for it. But the moment he lays eyes on Woljif he loses some of his poise. “What—whatever is that?”

Woljif scowls. You’d think a demigod could stop himself from blushing. “We were in Elysium, ok? I’m tryina blend in.”

He is wearing an Elysian chiton made of the gossamer silk of the luna moth and embroidered with shadow and gold; high, gilded sandals are laced halfway up his skinny cobalt calves; gold bangles decorate his bare arms, and a crown of flowers hangs over one horn. With an eye-roll Woljif snaps his fingers and is once again clad in his familiar leathers.

Daeran lets out a full-throated laugh and in that instant Siavash realizes what it is exactly that has changed about him these past few weeks: his laugh has lost its brittleness. It’s still razor sharp and a little wild, but richer, more solid, less likely to shatter.

Ariadne is trying hard not to laugh at Woljif herself but her tail dances.

“So what’s the emergency?” asks Siavash. They’re in Ariadne’s fathers’ garden in warm Absalom sunlight.

“Ariadne’s wayfinder has gone missing.”

Siavash glances Woljif’s way.

“What? It wasn’t me!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. I can read your mind, remember?”

Siavash raises an eyebrow at Daeran. “And this is an emergency worth interrupting an Elysian revelry for.”

“A dire emergency,” affirms Daeran, his eyes flashing defiantly again. “That wayfinder means a lot to her.”

“It was a personalized gift from my fathers when I was inducted into the Pathfinder Society and yes, it means a lot to me!” Ariadne does indeed look distraught.

“I suspect it was lost during our little excursion to Sothis and hence I hold the two of you responsible,” Daeran says with an arch frown.

Woljif shrugs one shoulder. “I’m good at locatin’ lost things, I can look into it.”

Again Siavash raises a brow his way.

“What? You’re not still mad about the thing?”

“Which thing?”

“Forget it. I’ll take care of it for you, Ariadne. So uh, what does it look like?”

While Ariadne describes it, Daeran catches Siavash sizing him up and smiling knowingly. “What? Don’t you dare act smug. Not in that outfit.”

Hopelessly smitten. Who would have thought, Siavash chides him telepathically.

“I didn’t really want to cause an interplanar fuss,” Ariadne says, wringing their hands despite Woljif’s apparent eagerness to help.

Siavash squeezes them around the shoulder and plants a kiss on their temple that feels warm and somehow sparkly like one of her glitterbomb concoctions. “We’ll have it back in no time. You have no less than three demigods on it.”

“Two,” corrects Daeran.

“Three,” Siavash corrects him right back. “You wouldn’t decline to help a damsel in distress?”

That evening Ariadne takes advantage of the time to herself to hit the alchemy books she’s been neglecting since Daeran swept into her life. She feels oddly energized, easily concentrating on complicated reaction ratios, not even minding that her happy humming is off-key (or perhaps it’s more on-key than usual?), when the slightest whisper behind her suddenly causes her to freeze.

She holds her breath. There’s a sense of wrongness she can’t place; nor does she understand why she is so highly alert tonight, when normally she’d be curled up under the lab bench having a nap by this hour.

It could be anything—a mouse, a loose parchment settling to the floor, Elvandir bringing her a midnight cup of tea—but somehow she knows it’s dangerous.

Too late.

A spell – tensile webs of arcana closing around her.

She resists with a force of will she did not know she possessed, an energy that refuses to be bound lending her limbs fierce strength, and the dark web gives way and unravels.

There is only one thought: get away from the house. Whatever this danger is, it must not hurt her fathers.

All Ariadne sees as they tuck into a roll and come up on the other side of their attacker is a shadow clad in supple Pharasmin ash-gray, incanting another spell behind its veil.

Deflecting again with this strange freeing force animating their limbs, Ariadne throws open the lab door and sprints out into the night garden. How is it they can see so clearly on a cloudless night is a mystery to consider another time. They sense the gray-clad attacker approaching swiftly at their heels.

But she hears it hiss, stumbling as little vines whip out to tangle its legs.

She is free.

Clearing the garden wall in one vault, sprinting with the wind in her ears down the path toward the city—

She doesn’t spot the second attacker until it’s too late. It lunges out of the shadows of the neighbors’ toolshed and this time Ariadne is unable to snap the dark threads of magic before she is overcome and roughly pushed through a portal.

More darkness, but this time cold and stale. Under their limbs as Ariadne twists to their feet they feel the dry rasping of sand. And walls on every side.

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Merlin - Written in the Scars

[Arthur is king, didn't die at Camlann, and knows about Merlin's magic]

After some visitors arrive at Camelot and Merlin has a bit of a day, Arthur feels the need to check on him. He really should learnt to knock before he barges into Merlin's room (or not).

Notes:

Title taken from The Script's song Written in the Scars.

No specific Merthur, but definitely hints of it if you want to read it that way ;-).

Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own (and I apologise)!

Angst, Whump, Emotional Whump, Mentions of Injuries (no detail), Mentions of Torture (no detail), Beginnings of Merthur.

Available on AO3 HERE!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The hour is late and Arthur is moving fast through the corridors of the castle. Druids had arrived earlier in the day asking for Merlin’s help - Emrys’s help. They had a young girl with them who they discovered bound and gagged in a cave - she was refusing to speak, and what little information they’d managed to gather through telepathic communication wasn’t helping. She was clearly in possession of magical abilities, and it would seem she was abandoned to die by magic-fearing parents. Merlin had spent all day working with her and had reported back to Arthur and the Druids, but the king had sensed all the things Merlin wasn’t saying, and now he felt the need to check in with him. 

The king doesn’t think twice as he strolls into Merlin’s chambers, heading for the dressing area where the man is likely preparing for bed. He’s just about to call out when he catches a glimpse of the man in question. Completely unaware of his friend’s presence, Merlin’s back is to Arthur as he pulls his undershirt over his head and drops it on the bed. The sight of the exposed skin of Merlin’s back causes Arthur’s words to die in his throat.

Arthur is expecting to see perfect, unmarred skin - maybe the odd mark from their many misdemeanours over the years. What he’s presented with is a collage of scars - some deep-set, some raised, large, small, stretching and criss-crossing and twisting. They come into stark relief and almost glitter in the candlelight as Merlin moves, stretching his arms above his head to work the stiffness out of his muscles and drawing Arthur’s eyes along the slender limbs. 

There he finds more scarring. What looks like an old burn covers the whole of one shoulder, clearly continuing over the front of his body. Marks that look very much like rope burn twist around both of Merlin’s slim arms, culminating in a mess of ligature marks around his wrists. Arthur has a moment of sick recognition as he looks to Merlin’s back again - he can place the weapons that caused most of the marks. Whips, blades, fire, arrows… The rest he can only assume are courtesy of falling on something, restraints, and magical wounds. 

He follows one scar - almost black in colour - from just above his bony shoulder blades, up his neck along the line of his spine, disappearing into his hairline. Arthur’s gaze catches Merlin’s face in the window, and finds himself locking eyes with him in the reflection.

Merlin whips around, the flash of gold in his eyes just dissipating as his arms instinctively move to cover his chest before he has the wherewithal to snatch his shirt up from his bed and vaguely hold it against his body. His startled voice comes out higher in pitch than normal.

“Don’t you know how to knock?!”

Arthur’s eyes are drawn to his friend’s shoulder, seeking that horrific burn that he’d seen a moment ago. He just catches sight of it before it finishes quietly fading into perfect, pale flesh. His response is instant. 

“Stop it.”

“What-?”

“Drop the spell.”

Arthur’s words come out a mixture of commanding king and heartbroken confidante. Merlin freezes, and it occurs to Arthur that given the long history of prejudice against magic in Camelot, his words could have an unintended threatening undertone. He should have tempered his reaction. He deliberately softens his voice.

“I just mean… You don’t have to hide from me.”

Merlin’s searching gaze is anxious. Arthur fights to keep his face somewhere between neutral and softly encouraging. 

Neither of them speak for a long moment. 

Finally, the king’s quiet words fill the space between them.

“Your - What happened to you, Merlin?”

Merlin shifts, his blue eyes darting to the floor as they flash gold, his hands fidgeting with the screwed up shirt that he’s barely covering his torso with. Slowly, the scars fade back into existence. He clearly tries to be flippant but his voice comes out more sad than jovial. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

After a moment of indecision Arthur steps forward, gently liberating the shirt from Merlin’s grasp and tossing it back onto the bed. He stands for a moment appraising the man, who shuffles uncomfortably in his exposure to Arthur’s scrutinising gaze even as he raises his head almost defiantly. 

Arthur’s eyes catch on the gruesome ligature marks around Merlin’s wrists. He finds himself reaching for Merlin’s forearm and softly holds it as he appraises the marred skin, the fingertips of his free hand tracing over the scars so tenderly it makes Merlin shudder. It occurs to Arthur that this is a somewhat intimate gesture, but the bond he and Merlin have makes them far more tactile with each other than people would normally expect. 

Arthur looks up to meet Merlin’s eyes,  a mixture of fear and pain in his own. 

“I don’t recognise most of these wounds.”

Uncertainty twists Merlin’s face. 

“No, you… You didn’t see how most of them happened.”

Arthur’s eyes close in regret. He takes a deep breath before he meets Merlin’s gaze again.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

Surprise crosses Merlin’s face.

“No, Arthur, that’s not - none of it was your fault.“

“Either way, I’m sorry.”

Merlin doesn’t know how to respond. Silence reigns again. 

“Tell me about them.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

Arthur pours every ounce of sincerity into his voice that he can muster. “Please tell me. I need to understand - there have been so many times I wasn’t there to help you.  After everything we’ve been through, I just want to know you.”

Merlin’s crystal blue eyes are wide, and there’s hesitation in his features. 

“I’m not sure you want to know, Arthur.”

Arthur’s heart aches and the pain of distrust burns in his stomach.

“Why, because some of them are from magic?”

Merlin’s eyes widen even further.

“No! Well… I know you’re still getting used to the magic thing, but it’s mostly that -”

Merlin cut’s himself off, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as his eyes search Arthur’s face for something.

“What?”

Compassion floods Merlin’s features. His voice is gentle when he speaks.

“... Because I don’t want you beating yourself up about them.”

Arthur stares, dumbfounded. He eventually regains his composure enough to respond.

“Well there’s not much you can do about that. I already feel a world of guilt just from seeing them. I just really want - no, I need to understand everything that’s happened to you - to us. We’ve never actually spoken about everything, never really taken the time to process all the things we’ve been through.”

Merlin is quiet, doubt lining his features. Arthur realises what he’s truly asking.

“I’m sorry, I have no right to ask. But please, if you can ever bring yourself to tell me, I will sit and listen through every pain you’ve been forced to bear. I owe you the respect of at least knowing everything that you’ve been through, even if there’s nothing I can do to make up for it.”

The unshed tears in Merlin’s eyes almost make Arthur drag him into an embrace, but he knows that right now it would be more to comfort himself than Merlin. Instead he squeezes the forearm in his grasp and grips the man’s shoulder with his other hand - a gesture he has always used to indicate his support and respect. 

Merlin studies him for a moment. Arthur prepares himself for another rejection when the man raises his head decisively. 

“It doesn’t bother me. To talk about them, I mean. I just want to be sure it’s not going to push you into a bad place. You’ve got enough going on.”

Arthur’s heart clenches at the consideration Merlin is showing him. Always. Merlin is always about others - particularly Arthur - first and himself last. He raises his head to match his friend’s.

“Merlin, I promise you that this isn’t about self-punishment or whatever else. I want to know you. If you are willing to tell me, I’d be honoured to listen.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Arthur wants to curl up in a ball. Both seated on the bed, Merlin had started small - “Arrowhead - you were there for that one.” and “No you didn’t know about those ones. I got the stuffing kicked out of me by some of your father’s fan club. Gaius patched me up.”

It soon progressed to “That was Aulfric and Sophia, the Sidhe? You were actually standing right beside me and watched it happen but you were too enchanted to notice anything. That took a really long time to heal. It sometimes still burns, even now. All the scars caused by magic do.”

And eventually they arrived at “I’ve lost count of the number of people who have tried to strangle me or cut my throat” and “Uhhh.. yeah. Those ones… I got taken by some of Morgause’s followers and, um, they didn’t just use normal weapons to make me feel their anger. Wasn’t sure I was going to survive that one, actually.” 

Finally they reached the worst of the scars, still vaguely pink and fresh looking. At first, Merlin just shakes his head - “oh a lot’s happened recently” - until finally Arthur’s gentle-but-insistent prodding gets Merlin to release a resigned sigh.

“Do you remember when… um… When I -” Merlin's utter discomfort tells Arthur exactly the event he’s thinking of.

“When Morgana enchanted you to try and kill me?”

“Yeah.”

“You were missing for days.”

“Yeah… well…” Merlin’s distress comes out in his fidgeting. Arthur suddenly feels sick. Still gently holding Merlin’s arm, he runs his fingers along the scars on his wrist again.

“She tortured you.”

It isn’t a question, but Merlin’s eyes betray his answer. For a moment Arthur can’t find his breath. Eventually his voice cracks on a question he’s not sure he wants the answer to.

“How long?”

Merlin tilts his head, a sorrowful look on his face. “Arthur…”

Arthur speaks through gritted teeth. “How. Long.”

Merlin’s eyes dart away. “Not sure. I lost track of night and day in the end.”

Arthur slams his eyes closed against the storm of emotions twisting in his stomach. Anger. Sympathy. Regret. Grief. He swallows hard and allows himself a moment to breathe - but something is itching at the front of his mind and as much as he knows he has no right to make his friend relive these horrors, he has to know. He snaps his head up, eyes instantly connecting with Merlin’s when he opens them.

“How many times has it happened?”

“- What -?”

Arthur grinds his teeth as pain lances through his chest. He falters for a moment, then his voice comes out almost a whisper. “How many times have you been tortured, Merlin?”

Merlin’s broken look tells him everything he needs to know. Grief and pain tear a hole in Arthur’s chest. He chokes out his words. “I’m so sorry -”

Merlin cuts him off “- Don’t. Please don’t do that. It wasn’t your fault, and without all these scars you wouldn’t be here now. So…” 

“I should have done better. I was supposed to protect you.”

“No, the prophecy was for me to protect you.”

Arthur glowers at the other man. “I should have done better. You mean more to me than you could ever know, Merlin. I should have done better.”

Merlin’s bright blue eyes are sad, yet there’s a hint of defiance there. His voice is strong when he speaks.

“No matter what they did to me, I always knew it was worth the pain. Because even though I couldn’t tell you, even though I hoped one day you could know the real me… Everything that happened to me meant that you got a step nearer to who you needed to become. And while they were busy hurting me, they weren’t hurting you.”

Arthur makes a choked sound, blinking rapidly as he looks away. He flounders for an embarrassingly long time before finding his words.

“Merlin, I… You’ve been all alone with it, all this time. I… I abandoned you. Somewhere inside myself I knew, but I still did nothing about it. I’m so sorry Merlin.”

Merlin knows there’s no response that would appease his friend, so instead he places his free hand on Arthur’s forearm and squeezes. 

They lapse into silence. Arthur is almost unaware of the way he’s running his thumb over a deep scar on Merlin’s forearm, still in his grasp after all this time. He marvels that the man doesn’t shy away from touch after all he’s suffered, and after a moment’s thought it occurs to him that no-one else does touch Merlin. The only person Merlin is at all tactile with is him. 

Something dawns on Arthur. He meets Merlin’s soft gaze. “That spell you were doing earlier - do you keep that going all day just so no-one sees?”

Merlin’s already shaking his head before Arthur’s finished speaking, his dark curls bouncing and a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Not entirely, just my hands and wrists. Why do you think I’m always wearing tunics and neckerchiefs?”

It gets Arthur thinking. He’s only seen Merlin in any state of undress once. Maybe twice. Both times when they were on long journeys and stopped to bathe in rivers. Merlin practically hid from Arthur the whole time - keeping the water up to his neck. Arthur had only glimpsed Merlin’s bare torso for seconds as he entered and left the water. And his skin had been -

“When we’ve bathed in the rivers, you’ve always managed to avoid me seeing you properly. And the few glances I got, I thought your skin was too perfect for someone who’d been in as many scuffles and accidents as you had. I should have known.” 

Merlin gives an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, I was only just learning about mirage spells at the time, so I tried to make sure you didn’t see anything. I could make myself look like a totally different person, but I was struggling with how to look like me, only better.”

Arthur’s heart cracks.

“There’s nothing about you that needs to be ‘better’, Merlin. There never has been.”

Merlin’s eyes are soft and sad. “Arthur, I’ve been hiding who I really am for my whole life. If people saw all this-” he wiggles his scarred arm slightly in Arthur’s gentle grip to demonstrate his meaning “- they would have questions. And people would fear me. A horrifically-scarred sorcerer doesn’t exactly scream ‘trust me’, does it? I mean, look what happened with Edwin -”

Arthur blanches as Merlin’s words. “- Don’t compare yourself to him -”

Merlin sighs good naturedly. “I’m not saying I’m like him, I’m saying that people were scared of him because of how he looked. We’re trying to build a new world here, Arthur, I’ve got to do everything I can to make people like me.”

“People love you, Merlin. You saw the reaction when you became court sorcerer -”

“- Arthur -”

“- Merlin.”

They lock stares, reading a multitude of unspoken words in each other’s faces. Merlin breaks the impasse first. He speaks quietly, his eyes so full of something that Arthur feels the need to gently squeeze the forearm in his grasp again. 

“I’m sorry for not telling you - for not being honest with you again. I just -”

“- Merlin.” The way Arthur speaks his name makes the other man go still. Arthur suddenly feels the weight of what he’s put Merlin through this evening.

“I understand. It’s personal. I’m truly sorry I’ve intruded on something so private. I had no right to demand that you showed me any of this, and I especially had no right to ask you to relive it. ”

Merlin just shakes his head, waving off the notion that Arthur has somehow violated his privacy. Arthur takes it as an indication to continue, speaking just in time to cut off whatever Merlin was about to say.

“But I want you to know that you should be proud of your battle scars. They’re proof that you’ve survived unthinkable pain, that you’ve risked your life time and again to save myself and countless others. You’re the greatest warrior Camelot has ever seen -” Merlin scoffs, about to refute the statement until Arthur barrels over him “- you are. Please promise me you’ll at least never hide these things from me again?”

Merlin’s eyes search the king’s face. He finds nothing but sincerity. 

“I promise.”

Arthur inclines his head in acknowledgement. After a pause, he voices one of the many things that are still bothering him. “You said the magic scars still hurt sometimes - is there anything I can do to help? Is there a salve I can help you put on or something?”

Merlin smiles softly. “No, it’s not… It’s not the scars on the outside, if that makes sense?”

Arthur nods slowly. He often still feels the burn of the Questing Beast’s bite. “Well, I want to help in any way I can. Anytime there’s anything I can do, whether it’s to listen as you rage against the discomfort, apply a salve, or help you to bathe - anything, you come to me. Agreed?”

A cheeky smile lights up Merlin’s features and Arthur’s heart glows. “Do you want to give me a bath Arthur?”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur’s answer is completely serious. “Yes. Anything you need.”

Seeing the stunned expression on Merlin’s face, Arthur continues. “Look, I’ve never had to deal with anything on my own. How many times have you tended my wounds, stayed by my side through the night so I could sleep safely, helped me to bathe when I’m hurt?”

Merlin goes to speak, but Arthur cuts him off. “ - Don’t you dare say it was your duty. You’ve always been so much more than a servant. And it works both ways. I’m always here for you, understand?”

Merlin’s smile is soft but so full of affection it almost hurts. “I know.”

Arthur grins back at him, the tension melting away as he snatches up Merlin’s shirt and throws it in his face.

“Now for love of the gods, put your shirt back on before someone walks in and gets the wrong idea.”

Merlin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Wouldn’t want people getting jealous, would we?”

Merlin’s delighted laugh when the well-aimed pillow hits him in the face puts Arthur’s world back on its axis, even as he ducks the barrage of soft furnishings that magically hurl themselves at him. 

[tanoraqui]

mafia + secret romance russingon?

[Send me 1-3 prompts + 1-2 characters and I’ll write a short thing!]

Shoutout to @dwarrowdelf for the tags suggesting that Fëanorian money laundering would happen not through a restaurant but rather through Grandpa Mahtan’s antiques repair store.

Maedhros didn’t look up when the bell over the door rang. Once upon a time, he’d been a fresh-faced teenager eager with the responsibility to charm and profit from any of his grandfather’s customers. Now, he was just doing Grandpa Mahtan an afternoon’s favor while trying to engrave contract law into his brain, and anyway, Aulendil’s only sold things in an incidental manner, or on commission. If a rare customer wanted help, they’d ask.

He was forced to abandon the intricacies of the Beleriandric Penal Code Book 5, Section IV, Subsection C when a familiar brown hand placed a small bag of watch screws on the law book before him, and the attached person said, somewhat loudly, “Hello! I would like to buy these, please.”

Maedhros nearly slammed the book closed on both their hands. He looked around frantically for anyone who might have heard, any relatives who might be skulking around—but the shop still held nobody but himself and a handful of lopsidedly stocked shelves of antiquated clockwork and the tools and parts for fixing it…and Fingon. Nolofinwion. With whom his branch of the family were all but at war these days.

“You can’t be here!” Maedhros hissed, hopefully quietly enough that Mahtan, in the back working on a clockwork ship for one of his old navy friends, wouldn’t hear.

“I just need to buy some screws,” Fingon said, all sparkling, innocent eyes and plush lips. He’d braided gold into his hair again.

“I’ll show you where you can shove your screws,” Maedhros retorted.

“Oh, please!” Fingon breathed, grinning. “Will it ache afterward?”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“Only if you prove you’re worth it.”

Maedhros’s hand had found those gold-twined deadlocks; he wasn’t sure how. He tugged. “I’ll show you ‘worth it’, brat. Meet me—”

A cough from behind him, a knock on the doorframe. His grandfather said, “Russo, when I asked you to mind the shop…”

Fingon demonstrated his frankly freakish ability to snap in an instant from ‘about to be ravished’ (or ‘about to ravish’, if he won the inevitable impromptu wrestling match) to ‘nice young man from down the block.’

“It’s my fault, sir!” he chirped. “I’m sorry for distracting him. I just needed to buy some screws for my…”

He cast his gaze around the shop, much less skilled at actually lying.

“For his pocketwatch,” Maedhros said quickly, and tried very hard to telepathically communicate, Please don’t tell Dad. Or Mom. But mostly Dad.

Whether thanks to telepathy, mercy, or general genial grandfatherly ignorance, Mahtan only raised his bushy orange eyebrows a little, and said mildly, “That’s just fine—Fingon, right? I’m afraid I can barely keep my own grandchildren straight some days, much less all their cousins. Did you find what you need?”

Fingon kept up his Nice Young Man face, except that he licked his lips for just a split second as he looked at Maedhros.

“I think so!” he said brightly. “I’ll see you later, Russo, after your shift? To help me out these screws in just right?”

“Yes,” Maedhros choked out, because, god, what else was he supposed to do? His family didn’t need to know, and the damn penal code could wait.

[alexanders-pokemon-adventure]

A little rain in every life must fall Part2)

(Part 1) (Part2) (Part3) (Part4) (part5) (part6) (part7) (part8) (part9)

Alexander Esparza

It was a mistake Alex realized too late , unable to stop the cascade of Energy flowing between them, and their Castform Nimbus . Alex only had a moment to experience the horror of what was happening before the dark rushed through them .

Alexander knew objectively that something was happening, recognized dully The sensation of their Castform’s helping hand rush through and infusing it into them. The tingling presence of electrons rushing to meet them , the lightning in the air ra wing to unite with the lighting now inside themself . Mixed in alex perceived something… wrong ? , rancid? , terrable? But Alexander didn’t care ,didn’t care about anything anymore . The shadow energy did something to them , Alexander’s body moved and acted , but Alex’s wasn’t there . They were below …

Sera Figga

The fact that something was wrong was immediately apparent to Sera . she Derek and Alexandria had come from above flying south from Unova and Buffla .Alexander had called them all saying they were doing an experiment with risks and Alex would do it with or with out them . They rushed to meet them . Alex for as smart as they were was pron to rash impulses decisions. The trio saw the violet sparks first . The Racing charges skittering over the green glass of Alex’s greenhouse had them pausing in the air . Alexandria asked if this was normal for Alexander’s experiment.

“Purple lightning..no “ derek said concerned crinkled his face.

Then the roof exploded. Thunder sent them tumbling to earth in a cacophony of sound and purple light the wing of the trios pokemon barly keeping them from crashing . Sera Heard it before she saw it . The sound of warping metal ,crack glass and rumbling power. The greenhouse exploded.

The next few moments were a blur of panic , between Alexandria’s swearing ,Derek’s sreaming for Alex and of course the momentum of their pokemon doing their best to avoid flying debris and shrapnel. X and Mystery Sera Unown were out of the pokeballs instantly sensing her concern. Her thought meet theirs instantly . As an Esper Sera was a strong telepath and telekinetic . Together with her Unnow they synchronizing as one. Thoughts merged ,power magnified as if singing in choir. She needed to know if alex had been in the Greenhouse. Sera’s power raced out of her as they landed spreading into the smoke feeling for them .in what was ones the center of Alexander’s green house Sera felt them standing , on the floor beside them was…was … NIMBUS!

“Alex are you ok ?what happed ?is nimbus all right can we approach” Sera spoke into Alex’s mind , she wait their response only to be meet with silence.

“Alex?” She though at them again stretching deeper into Alex’s mind only their was nothing ,worse then nothing . Sera founder herself in Alex’s mind cling to their psyches black iron walls on the edge of a precipice . Darkness threatening to swollen her . There was nothing of Alexander here at lest nothing Sera could sense only a terrible wrongness and the feeling of threat. She clawed her way out back to herself and gasped .

“What’s wrong” derek demanded his Aegislash spirit harmonizing to him , forming a rudimentary armor around his arm. She felt him ready to run in to the smoke Alexandria ready behind him.

“DONT “ Sera yelled “STAY BACK”

Derek and Alexandria paused “ something’s very very wrong with Alex “

Deafning thunder exploded around them . Smoke rushed past them as violet light shined from Alex’s standing form. Sera had seen Alexander charged before, but she didn’t recognize the form they had currently taken dark, almost black violet etched with electric yellow. Instinct took over Sera power race to the limp Castform on the floor beside Alexander . Nimbus’s body flew into her arms in an Instant. Nimbus was limp body shifted but didn’t wake. Sera peered into their sleeping mind .

Nimbus did not like this form they had taken for Alex, rancid.it was rancid to them. But it was a part of them now apart of them that Alex had try to understand. “Shadow rain” echoed in their mind followed by “helping hand”. Sera saw it all .Nimbus had tried to stab Alex and tried to stop.

Sera stared at Alex. shadow type Energy laced with electric type energy . Sera knew Alexander how to grown frustrated with the lack of information about shadow type Pokémon . knew that they were frustrated that I didn’t know how to help Nimbus. But what foolishness did they step into this time? She couldn’t even sense them, could only feel The abyss yawning inside .

The violet lightning was still arching from Alex’s body , reaching higher and higher into the sky , Derek was distraught “ do you know what’s happening ?” He ask Sera . In Moment, all that she had learned from Nimbus past to Alexandria, and Derek mind to mind . Derek spoke “Alex…they tried to conduct a sample to shadow type energy from Nimbus and now you can’t even sense their mind and they doing…” Derek waived both arms Emphatically at alexander Standing motionless in the destroyed center of their greenhouse, lightning arcing from them. “ ”whatever that is” . Dereks face was a mix total panic and rage “Why on earth would they try that? shadow Pokémon’s whole Stick is that they’re closed off from the outside what if the reason you can’t reach him is because whatever they did closed them off. “

“ If Alexander has been shadowified by Nimbus’s energy will it Undo itself when they run out of energy?” Alexandria asked “it’s not as though when they run out of energy from their Jolteon they keep shooting lightning, Maybe we just wait this out’ Alexandria suggested ‘ it’s not like what they’re doing is hurting anyone

”

“They might not be hurting others but we dont know what that energy is doing to them” derek couldn’t hid the panic in his voice .

He’s right Sera though . she had Seen Alexander conduct other less helpful living energies before After they had conducted a hyper beam, Sera Genuinely believed Alexander was going to blow up until they dumped the energy.

“We need to expel the energy from them … quickly , then get them to a hospital and get Professor Apricot she understand alex’s abilities the best.”

Alexandria Ishvan( @alex-ishvan )

Alexandria smelled it before they saw it and saw it before the Sera and Eric even understood what Alexander was doing. Their senses had been different for a long time now more potent and precise than the others . As Sera held Nimbus and planed with Derek. Alexandria assessed what they perceived. Ozone they smelled Ozono first in the wind , which with all the lightning that wasn’t usual but… Alexander was right they’re only 20ft away they should be able to smell them to but they didn’t . Alexandria smell ozone, various local plants the personal unique scent of Derek and Sera but not Alex . Their vision followed the arch of lighting racing from Alex so impossibly hight and saw clouds .

Watching Alexandria saw the nebulous clouds condense and rotate around the zenith of Alexander’s lighting , saw them darken and grow with unnatural speed . Saw the familiar purple undertone to the mass hanging so high above a wondered why it all seemed so familiar . Then the smell hit them . Rancid , it was so rancid Alexandria had to stop themself from gagging. They would never forget that scent , like rot , like death like …the shadow storm . Derek and Sera now covered their nose cringing at the smell . “ what ever plane you have to get the energy out we need to do it now “ Alexandria said with the urgency , pointing to the sky “whatever they’re doing is generating clouds and I don’t want to think about what kind of precipitation might fall from them”

Derek and Sera seamed to understand what they meant “ what’s the plan ?”

“ Alexander’s power has some “ sera paused seeming to think about it from Alexandria’s perspective “ aspects that we might be able to exploit” she went on to explain to Alexandria that Alexander’s power on a unconscious level prioritizes the Alex safety , something about the Energy matrices that they generate prioritizes homeostasis of their body .

“ so what you’re telling me is if we attack them, it might stop what they’re doing and prioritize protecting them from us? “ Alexandria asked . Sera and Derek gave alexandria uncertain glances. Alexandria did not like that look

“Okay” Alexandria sad incredulously. They shifted their Gaze back to Alexander , Lightning still arching from their body to the sky … lightning…LIGHTNING!

“ The lightning, the lightning Alex is generating is how their body processes the energy from electric types right right!” Alexandria asked with urgency

“Yes” Derek confirmed. “ it’s not usually purple but whenever Alexander channels power from Nimbus, it’s usually a little different depending on the form they taken during the energy transfer “

“ different types different powers” Sera confirmed

“ so you don’t know what purple does?” Alexandria asked

The look they gave each other confirm to Alexandria they didn’t. Alexandria took another deep breath The air was still rancid . what did shadow type energy do? They wandered to them self. what did it do during the shadow storm? Alexandria remembered Fortress city . Trees, older than humanity ,lived in for generations gone , people and pokemon alike left half burned and… and… The memory shuttered through Alexandria melted.

“Ok so whatever we’re doing don’t let them touch you with their body or the lightning agreed?”

“ agreed” hey said in unison.

Derek Dagda

Derek was afraid ,very afraid . Not for himself but for Alex , Alex … Alex was … no Derek did not dilute himself into believing that Alexander was fragile. They weren’t but … haven’t they been through enough, why did Alexander seem to deliberately put themselves in situation they could be hurt or that made Derek worry? Derek and Sera had convince him to quit being a Ranger to retire years ago, but these things. kept .on .happening. And now … NOW Derek found himself faced with the reality that him and two friends. We’re probably going to have to beat Alexander down to stop whatever mess they put themselves in. Alexandria struck first , Derek was always shocked by how inhumanly fast they were , racing across the green tile floor of the ruined greenhouse with only feet separating them alexandria. screamed “DARK PULES” waves of Ebony power punched into Alexander. One moment two moment, three moments past of dark power, rushing from Alexandria… Alexander didn’t flinch the only sign anything had happened was the slow shift of Alexander’s gase to alexandria. Alexandria backed away swearing preparing to strike again, not with darkness this time, but with the flame that gushed from their mouth. Sera struck from behind before Alexandria could , she snuck behind Alex when Alexandria attacked and blasted Alexander with a wall of blue force from behind. Alexander stumbled forward but caught themselves , which meant all of nothing when Alexandria blasted fire directly at them. The stream of lightning racing towards the sky abruptly ended as Alexander stood in the stream of flame. they look at Alexandria and there was nothing in their eyes . Derek noticed the tiniest of movements in their neck The slightest adjustment of their foot, and in an instant wondered if Alexander was aiming. Derek’s Aegislash Cortana shield flew from his shoulder placing itself firmly between alexandria, and Alexander. A bubble of green light encompassed alexandria and Cortana shield , just as A bolt of power freed it self from Alex and in Instant slammed into Cortana Barrier. Even from across the distance Derek could feel that terrible power skitter along the surface Barrier, could feel it clawing and clinging and searching for any way in before the bolt of power ebbed from Alexander . Sera didn’t hesitate ,neither did Derek another blue wall of force slammed into Alexander sending them silently sprawling , Derek pelted them with Shadow Balls Alexandria joined in the barrage. Sparks and streams of power still escape Alexander’s body but … but for a single flash, Alexander’s aura flickered.

Derek, Saw alexandria notice too. “ if you can hold them do it I can end this” Alexandria said

Derek nodded first at Sera them to Alexandra . Watched as blue power washed over Sera like armor and felt Cortana and his phantasmal strength stretch over his hands like gloves. Alexandria pulled dark stones from their pockets like black diamonds were they gems? Derek wonder to himself only for a moment. Together Derek and Sera penned Alexander between them. Purple Sparks stung and raged at all the points Derek and Sera made contact . Alex struggled agents them but Derek held firm. Alexandra was behind all of them now yelling “GET READY TO MOVE!”.

Derek could only wonder could Alexandria fly? The way they floated in the air for a moment before screaming “DARK PULES!!” Dark gems evaporate into the power they unleashed . Derek and Sera had fling themselves out of the way of the oncoming attack.

Derek watched as the Tsunami of Ebony power overwhelmed Alexander, watched as moments passed, and finally could see the aura of power Alex‘s body had been holding onto begin to crack under the pressure. The dark violet coloration to their skin fading as Alexandria kept on the assault. In one final shove of from Alexandria Alexander with down. Derek cradled Alex in his arms Alex was unconscious and refused to wake. Derek watch blood dribble from their nose and mouth . Could see deep bruises beginning to form on their face and neck and arms. “We need to get Alex to the hospital now !” Derek said

[racefortheironthrone]

The original Hellfire Gala and Immortal X-Men #13 pose telepathic democracy as a possible political system of the Krakoan state. Even if it won't be the new order in the comics, what are your thoughts about this type of rule? And is there anything interesting for our world inside that idea?

This is an excellent question...but because IXM #13 only came out today, I'll put my answer below the cut to avoid spoilers.

So ever since X-Men (2019) #21, it's been established that a single telepath of Jean Grey's power level can unite all Krakoa - some 200,000+ mutants - into a psychic demos that is capable of conducting not merely a plebescite, but a deliberative, participatory democratic vote complete with candidate statements and full debate, in an instant.

Given Jonathan Hickman's political writings in the past, it's pretty clear that this is a conscious fantasy of an ideal direct democracy, using Omega-level telepathy to solve what in the real world are inherent flaws of scale and organization. So for a good chunk of the Krakoan era, there's been this deliberate tension between this liberatory fantasy and the squalid reality of unaccountable oligarchy (especially once Kieron Gillen added Immortal X-Men to the narrative).

So it's absolutely fitting that Gillen ends the Quiet Council and brings about psychic democracy through a secessio plebis by Doug, the Five, and the people of Krakoa who provide both abstract legitimacy and the very real life energy that makes the Krakoan paradise a possibility.

It's a wonderful utopian vision, and Doug's only partially responsible for the fact that it's going to fail.

Conclusion

In the context of the Marvel Universe, I think psychic democracy is a brilliant idea, and I would like to see how the real work of democracy - the organizing and coordination and creativity it takes to turn a mass of individual political preferences into a coherent majoritarian policy agenda, the bureaucracy and expertise that is required to turn de jure into de facto, and so forth - would happen in this sci-fi premise. Even with the ability to run ideal democratic deliberation with zero time cost, it's not guaranteed that even an ideal process will lead to good outcomes. People are not perfect, and can make mistakes en masse as well as in groups of twelve.

Given that we're in the early stages of an event called "Fall of X," I think we may have to wait a while to see Doug's dream turned into a reality, but I think it will happen at some point. "Is there anything interesting for our world inside that idea?" I think any well-executed science-fiction concept can make us think about our world and how it could be different and that's always a useful exercise. OTOH, without a psychic hivemind (and to be frank, the authorial fiat to make that hivemind solve problems in mass communication rather than create new ones), it's a little hard to see applicable lessons at the current moment.

[fancoloredglasses]

Graduation Day (A season finale that had to wait 27 years for the next season)

[All images are owned by Marvel Disney and Saban Entertainment. Please don’t sue me]

With Disney+ reviving the 90s X-Men animated series (calling it X-Men ’97), I figured I would take a look at where the series left off so new viewers didn’t need to watch the entire series.

A quick note: The animation may seem a but different than the early seasons. This is due to the fact that Marvel was on the verge of bankruptcy (to try to generate enough revenue to keep the presses rolling, they started selling off the movie rights to several of their more popular franchises (including the X-Men), many of which have only recently returned to Marvel, and two of which are still in the hands of other studios (Hulk with Universal and Spider-Man with Sony) and are only allowed in the MCU thanks to some serious bargaining) As a result, the budget for X-Men was severely cut for season 5 (meaning the animation was lower quality and the season only had 10 episodes instead of 13)

Of course, if you want to watch the whole series (including this episode), it’s available on Disney+.

PREVIOUSLY ON…

While I’m not going to review the entire series, I will give you the bits that will be important for the episode:

Morph started the series as a member of the X-Men, but was mortally wounded in the first few episodes. They were saved and eventually came back (brainwashed into thinking they were betrayed) They spent most of the series following their return in a redemption arc, having returned to the X-men in the last few episodes.

Henry Gyrich (who looks VERY different than he did in previous seasons) is one of the primary voices calling for the eradication of all mutants. He was responsible for the majority of the funding that created the Sentinels.

Princess (now Empress) Lilandra is a member of the royal family in the Shi’ar Empire. She is an ally of the X-Men and has been romantically involved with Charles Xavier.

Magneto’s journey has been a long one fraught with triumphs and betrayals. At the time of this episode, he is gathering a mutant army to conquer the world on the island on Genosha.

That catches us up, so on with the episode!

We open to a hearing on mutant relations. Gyrich is doing his best to rile up the audience (and the committee members) with his anti-mutant rhetoric.

Off to the side, Xavier tries to be the voice of reason, but…

With that, Gyrich pulls out a device  and uses it on Xavier. Immediately, his mental powers go berserk and overload the minds of everyone in the chamber (including the X-Men, who were in attendance for support) before he collapses!

As the police take Gyrich away for assault, Beast collects the device to examine what it did to Xavier while Cyclops tells Wolverine to get Xavier to their plane to get back to the school, but...

Beast is doing his best to keep Xavier alive despite Wolverine’s senses saying otherwise.

Meanwhile in the island of Genosha, the mutants have seen the footage from the hearing and are calling for blood (much to the delight of Magneto)

Later at the school, the X-Men have brought in Dr. Moira MacTaggart, mutant expert and Xavier’s friend, via the 90s equivalent of Zoom.

Unfortunately, she’s not able to help much as Xavier’s condition worsens. Then Beast has an epiphany: the Shi’ar have technology far beyond what Earth can muster. Surely Empress Lilanda will come to their aid!

Hmmm…good point. Any message to the Shi’ar would take years to reach them, while Xavier likely has days at best. If Xavier was coherent, he could send an instant telepathic message through the bond they share, but…

Meanwhile in Genosha…

…Magneto rallies the troops.

Around the world, mutants rise up against the humans who would repress them. Of course, that means the humans strike back…with the military.

Meanwhile, Xavier appears on TV to reason with the mutants.

That’s pretty impressive, considering how close to death he is!

Ah, that explains it. Morph was impersonating Xavier. Regardless, their pleas fall on deaf ears.

In the War Room, Cyclops and Wolverine brainstorm a way to get through Magneto’s followers to put an end to his offensive before it starts. Jean offers to use her powers to keep the other mutants at bay.

So Cyclops, Jean, and Wolverine make plans to storm Genosha.

Later in the Blackbird (the X-men’s battle plane), the team approaches Genosha when Magneto uses his power to destroy it! Fortunately, the team is ready and bails out, with Jean using her powers to cushion the landing. Later, the team tries to infiltrate the army’s camp, but are confronted. Fortunately, Magneto takes that moment to make an appearance.

With the army distracted, the team slips away and sneaks into Magneto’s stronghold.

(Thanks to peanutsinspace)

Back at the school, Xavier is quickly losing his battle.

Fortunately, Magneto has agreed to try to help save Xavier’s life by augmenting Xavier’s brainwaves so he can contact Lilandra telepathically.

Well, he did something. And whatever he did was enough to bring Xavier to consciousness, at least for a while. After some friendly banter with Magneto, Xavier addresses the assembled X-Men.

(Thanks to FrogLicker8cP)

Just as all seems lost…

It seems that Xavier’s message was received and Lilandra has come. Sadly there is little she can do on Earth to stabilize him, but she offers to take him to the Shi’ar Empire to heal him (though it is unlikely he would be able to return to Earth)

With that, the final season of X-Men comes to a close…

Or rather, fifth season, even if season 6 had to wait for 27 years.

(Thanks to Marvel)

Now you are caught up. Enjoy X-Men ’97. I haven’t yet seen it (I’m binging the series throughout the summer before doing so), but I hope there is enough demand for another season in the future.

[ask-the-diamond-kingdom]

.....I'm grateful....for your existence

In between the rambling, Avery has opened their eyes as a quiet sound caught her attention. With their father distracted with a conversation, their eyes fell on a distinct blue form that blitz past themselves, Yuuto and Lucius some distance away. A look of confusion appeared on the face of the Pichu as their eyes followed the strange force as it seemed to dance in the air, making it much harder for the child to be able to focus on what it could. Despite its best attempts, Avery only became dizzy the longer they stared at it, causing them to make a noise as they slumped in Yuuto's hold.

"A lot....chu....." Avery groaned.

Yuuto ears perked up at this as he turned his attention to Avery. "Little squeaker, what are you do-"

His voice trailed up at catching a speck of blue fly by him. The fur on his tail stood as there was a moment where his body threatened to grasp whatever it was with a Psychic. However, he stopped when what greeted him on the ground was a wrapped gift box. Yuuto squinted at this, shifting Avery back to the safety of his scarf as he lifted up the container with the Psychic he intended use to smack down what he thought had been planning to tackle him.

"What in the world is this?"

Yuuto rotated the container, testing to see if something would explode from the motion. After doing this for a minute, he eventually decided to unravel what it was. He maintained the hold he had on the box with his Psychic and proceeded to slowly unwrap it with another. He was ready to toss aside the box as far away as he can in case it turned out to be a trap.

What he wasn't expecting to see was a assortment of paint sets of excellent property based on the brand. Included with these paint sets are variety of brushes and even a few canvas. Yuuto...wasn't sure how to process this. He wasn't used to experiencing a level of kindness from those outside of those he knew. Honestly, it was concerning that he was receiving this kindness. As he stood there, paralyzed by this gift, his eyes fell on a single note that was tucked to the side. Yuuto brought his body closer to the box and grabbed it, bringing it up to his face to read.

I know you don't care to see me, and that's fine! I won't bother you too much. However, I know you aren't a fan of thinking of your creation date...so i wanted to give you this so you're able to think of something less painful in regards to it. From G PS. Turn the note over

Yuuto made a face upon recognizing who the gift came from. A confusing mess of emotions filled him at staring at this. However, he pushed it aside to flip the note over and stared in confusion at what he was staring at. It seemed this note was...a piece of a map with a red circle doodled around a area. At first, he was confused by why he wanted him to stare at this...until he made note of a drawing near the circle.

A Charizard.

A Ivysaur.

A Squirtle.

Those three headshots of those Pokemon were what he saw, and the mix of emotions that Yuuto had became instant excitement. No words can describe the sheer happiness he felt at realizing what was given to him. It was the location of his friends. His eyes looked around at feeling a faint telepathic pulse and turned his attention towards the trees.

Through telepathy, he called out to the being he would call his parent two simple words:

"Thank you."

He did not get a response nor did he expected to. However, he was sure they appreciated it. In the area he looked in some ways away, a blue feline stopped as they were making their escape back to their home.

(Base used is KreideHeartz with color and edits done by me)

"Thank you."

At hearing that voice from their child, the God of Incarnation and Genetics let the stress that hung over their shoulders to vanish. Their usual smile manage to form on his lips before a soft laugh would soon. Then as soon as they arrived, this Pokemon vanished in a blink of a eye. They have completed their mission.

A little something that I wanted to make for Yuuto since it's Mewtwo birthday! A little reveal of Yuuto's "parent"

[positivelybeastly]

send me ☞ + a character to see how i would portray them.

Charles Xavier

"You've been avoiding me, Henry."

There was a moment where Henry started, seemingly still not used to hearing Charles approach without his wheelchair - the turn of the wheel, the whirr of the motor, even the soft anti-grav hiss of the Shi'ar chair, he was used to anything but the sound of footsteps when his mentor made his presence known.

He almost hit his head off a lab bench table, looking up at Charles for a moment - and then turning away, giving truth to the Professor's statement.

"Have I? I can't say it's been intentional, Professor, I apologise if you feel I've been ignoring you. Just been rather busy is all."

There. Right there. Charles can feel it, right in the midst of his parietal lobe - that pull to just reach out and know. It would make it so much easier, to just, gently touch at Hank's mind and know what he was thinking. It would make it easier for him, he would know what was upsetting one of his star pupils, it would make it better for Hank, to have someone who understood better than even he, man of a million words, could express, it would allow them to begin the healing process so much more quickly, it would -

It would be wrong.

Instead, he simply sighs, keeping his mind to himself, and moves into the lab.

"Henry, I've known you since you were but seventeen years old, and I don't need to be one of the most experienced telepathic presences on the planet to know that something is bothering you."

He let the words sit in the air for a moment.

"And, not to correct you, but the rather pedantic young man you once were would point out that you misspoke. You haven't been ignoring me, you've been avoiding me. A subtle difference, but one that you and I both understand, and that I keenly feel."

Henry seemingly grasped for an excuse. Not like him, truly. But Charles was patient, and he would give him the time he needed to formulate a response - a luxury he had afforded to Robert many a time, after all, so why not Henry?

In the end, all it took was for Henry to truly look at him, and Charles understood in an instant, with a pang and a sharp intake of breath.

" - I understand. You'll need time, of course."

Cassandra Nova. Of course. How could it not be that, be her? She had been . . . brutal, in her treatment of his students, of Henry, of those he held most dear to him, and he hadn't even considered that she had looked like him when she had done it. Of course.

"I . . . apologise, Henry. I overstepped. Be well."

[catabibaz0n]

I GOT BUGS ON MY BRAIN!!!!!

So D&D has an insect race, but because I’m an extra person who can’t leave things alone I decided to make my own insect race!!! BECAUSE WHY NOT.  My current working thingy for these babies is that they are a combination of bullet ants and termites!

They make these beautiful structures and elaborate intertwining cities, with immaculate artwork throughout truly beautiful homes…. but then they just decide to fucking go somewhere else in this massive army, and make temporary homes for themselves along the way,  just leaving behind this magnificent city that they built, and just fucking left because??????

I have a working theory that either they are dealing with predators, like mites, or something that likes to find them if they stay still for too long, or maybe some form of fungus, because before Ophiocordyceps was made well-known by the The Last of Us, ants and various small bugs have had to deal with the horrors of zombie fungus since the beginning of time.

The babies go through various molts, until they reach their juvenile stage, when they proceed to metamorphose into one of three different adult types, either a worker, a soldier, or a queen.

I’ve made the distinct decision that queens aren’t solely responsible for adding new members to the colony or hive. All members of the hive can produce children. Queens are something that make a hive more powerful, because of their telepathic abilities, which mentally connect all individuals within a hive, so that the hive can work more quickly and efficiently!

Some hives don’t even have any queens and function perfectly fine without any, but many do have queens,  because instant communication is a powerful asset. The queen acts more like a router; there’s no mind control, only suggestion, information, and the power of charisma!! Sometimes a colony will have a fucking asshole queen, who everybody fucking hates, and eventually the queen gets kicked out of the hive and replaced with a new queen because what the fuck was that person’s deal? 

The term ‘Queen’ is simply the word most commonly used for the position by outsiders. This species’ has a completely different vernacular within their culture and language, which I don’t think any human would be able to fully grasp or replicate, because holy crap; the language of not just a semi-telepathic but also an insect species - whatever communication wasn’t direct mind to mind, would probably be largely pheromone-based!

[starsfic]

I hope you don't mind a fic based off this!

-_-

It happened in an instant.

They were searching for one of the chaos emeralds, lost in the battle against Metal Sonic, in a large, grassy plain. It was entirely flat, which made the search frustrating, considering you would think flat areas would be easy to search. Every moment searching here put the world, put Amy, put their family in danger.

The flatness made it easy to see the four figures looking around.

“Is that-?” Knuckles asked as both groups drew closer to each other, close enough to see the distinctive red stripes in dark quills. Sonic froze, clearly realizing who they were looking at. Across the fields, Shadow froze too, his eyes going wide at the sight of them.

Blue sparks started to dart off Sonic.

“Sonic, wait, he might still be dangerous-”

Sonic took off like a shot, the air popping in their ears. Knuckles took a step back and Tails followed. The trademark blue energy that followed their brother was reaching new heights that none of them had seen before. On his side, Shadow also took off like a shot, ignoring Stone and the white bat’s yelps, his air shoes creating a visible streak of red.

When they collided in the center, the energy exploded.

Tails shielded his eyes and backed into Knuckles to prevent himself from being knocked off his feet. He had seen what the two of them had done to Tokyo, but this felt different.

When the dust cleared, the explanation was revealed.

In the middle of a small crater that hadn’t been there before, Sonic and Shadow stood there, holding each other like they were a piece of driftwood in a cold, lonely ocean. Sparks snapped and popped off them. If either of them noticed, they didn’t complain. They just swayed lightly together, a faint resemblance to their dance in the stars as they sank into the dirt, their tails wagging.

Without a word, Tails started running towards them. Based on the heavy footsteps, Knuckles followed close behind. On their side, Stone rushed over, followed by the robot (where on Earth did Shadow get a robot, Tails wanted a robot) and the white bat flying behind.

By the time they reached the duo, Sonic was more cradling Shadow, pressing kisses to his forehead and running his fingers through Shadow’s quills. Shadow had faint tears glinting in the corners of his eyes, matching the tears Sonic tried to hide whenever he had nightmares. Despite the tears, both were smiling.

“Sonic,” Tails had to speak. He hated it, because he had never seen Sonic so happy, but they had a mission. “You know Maddie’s gonna kill you, right?”

Shadow reached up and clenched his hands around Sonic’s waist, his fingers digging in to the point that it probably hurt. His brother didn’t even flinch. “I’ll die happy,” he said, his voice soft and fond.

Oh boy. Knuckles seemed to pick up on the issue, because he stepped forward, pressing a hand to Sonic’s shoulder. “You won’t be able to die happy if we cannot find the chaos emerald here.”

“It’s three miles west,” the white bat said, landing in front of them, nodding in the direction. She smirked at them. “We were tracking it when we stumbled across the second part of our little mission.”

“Second part?” Tails said, a jolt of unease shooting up his spine.

The white bat pointed with her thumb at Sonic, who had managed to peel himself away from Shadow. They seemed to be conversing telepathically, resulting in the dark hedgehog sighing and unwrapping his hands. Instead, Sonic offered a hand that he took, helping him to his feet. “Shadow here was determined to track down his little boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Shadow grumbled, not letting go of Sonic’s hand.

“Anyway,” she said, smiling. “The name’s Rouge, and that’s Omega,” The robot beeped but did not give a further response. Stone waved and, despite himself, Tails waved back. “And you probably know him. Anyway, since we’ve tracked each other down and the lovebirds,” Shadow rolled his eyes but relaxed as Sonic bumped him. “Probably won’t let each other go, let’s head out, shall we?”

“Race you there?” Sonic offered.

Rouge’s nose wrinkled. “You’ll beat us.” “That’s not a no~”

Before anyone could say another word, Shadow’s air shoes activated and the duo took off in a glint of red energy. In the distance, they split up, red and blue circling each other.

Knuckles sighed. “Yeah, I figured they would be insufferable.”

Rouge chuckled, her white fur catching the colors. “At least they’re happy.”

reunion

[callmethirtysomething-blog]

13 years ago I joined Tumblr because I was searching for happiness. 13 years ago this blog was "Justkok" and "Call Me Thirty" was my username; A call back to the days of yore when TRL, AOL Instant Messenger, and Xanga took up the most real estate in my mind. Laughable now. You should know why this fact tickles me so: I can see it now; a little fuzzy around the edges but the sounds are clear. Listening to Lady Gaga, twisting open a bottle of "wine" in a dimly lit Chicago apartment, and the slice of scissors cutting too close to my ears. The fact is I can barely drink wine, I am a born-again Swiftie, live in Portland, Oregon, and resist any urge to get bangs. To put it plainly getting bangs is a cry for help.

Besides the above changes, there are age-related developments afoot. For example last week my heel randomly started hurting when I got up off the couch; yesterday my back started to spasm while wiping my ass; and a few months ago I found my first gray hair. Let's see, what else? Call Me Thirty has evolved into Call Me Thirty Something. Isn't that a scream? Yes, these past few years have been oozing along; the face of time is wincing from relentless winds of change. As we age one comes to expect that, thankfully.

Does change excite you? I've always wondered about you people, if so. While doing a stint in the wonderfully horrifying world of Human Resources this question came up often during interviews. In this vein I must reveal to you a shocking revelation: everyone most people lie in these scenarios. No one Most people don't love change—particularly when it occurs in the workplace. Even the most positive changes require periods of adjustment and leaders equipped with emotional intelligence, a penchant for organized chaos, and a sense of humor.

I have met a few people whom I believed when they said change is exhilarating. Characteristically speaking these people weren't necessarily pie-in-the-sky folks. Rather, their ability to emotionally detach provided security and flexibility in the chaos: their routines don't have feelings so you can't hurt them. As I explore this thought I have come to a riveting realization in real time: I don't have routines, I have feelings. Please pause while I telepath my therapist with this bombshell. I would tell her through traditional channels but I just stopped going last month. Later: more on that. Maybe. ADHD and all that.

Is the expectation of change the same as anticipating it? I guess I had an idea of what change meant. But anticipating the changes? No one prepares you for coincidentally meeting your life partner, unexpected deaths, or sudden job offers that take you 2,000 miles away from the place you were born.

From my first post on Tumblr where I talked about happiness and change, here is a response to my younger self:

You will start to cultivate a sense of happiness from doing more fun stuff, especially after your Dad passes away. The first person to die other than a grandparent is truly awful. As a result you will make the transition to relying less on the promise of "bigger and better" things because there is nothing bigger or better than life and death. Once you realize you don't belong in an office you'll boycott all things timestamps and cubicles; you'll start asking people what they do for fun instead of what makes them happy. As a Thirty-Something you'll still struggle adjusting to most changes but you'll put on a better face; a more hopeful one content with watching the paint dry while life settles from the most recent dust up. Pausing will become second nature and asking questions will come from a place of curiosity. You'll feel shame over your discomfort with change but will no longer feel obligated to defend that which you are working on.

And please, for the love of God, stretch! You have the time and the means to do so. Most days you work in your pajamas. The last thing you want is to die from a back spasm while wiping your butt, in your pajamas, at 3pm.

[elizaellwrites]

Legacy of the Fallen- Chapter 12

Prologue

Chapter 1

Last Chapter

Table of Contents

Consequence

Cameron watched Jaleya’s dark violet eyes as she contemplated the game board between them. She had her chin resting on her propped-up knee, her thick black hair cascading down, obscuring her face that so resembled their mother’s.

His sister reached out slowly, gaze darting up to him for a moment before she picked up her Eswie piece, moving it to the left with a hesitant flutter in her fingers as she left it in its new place.

He kept his face blank until she had fully finished her turn, her arms returning to wrap around her leg. He then moved his Sarada to ambush her piece, unable to keep the small smirk as she sent him a glare.

“Why do you always do that?” She muttered. “You know they’re my favorite, and you target them first..”

Cameron let out a short laugh at her musings. “They’re weak,” he defended himself. “Almost everything destroys them, why do you like them so much?”

She pouted for a moment, looking younger than her fourteen years. “They’re pretty,” she admitted after a moment.

“You can’t win a game with pretty,” he pointed out.

“Why not?” Jaleya folded her arms.

“That’s not how the game works.”

“Well, I don’t think it should.”

“Just play, it’s your turn,” Cameron snorted at his sister’s scrunched-up face as she reached blindly and carelessly moved a Dasdae toward the mountains, landing on a chance spot. He wordlessly reached for the bag containing the outside threats, handing it to her to watch for what she pulled out.

A rockslide, level four danger, went to kill her level three Dasdae, how disappointing.

He sighed, moving one of his Yaldu pieces toward the river. He looked at his sister, watching her move one of her own Yaldu in return.

This was their weekly routine, playing Konstaetha as the rest of the academy woke up. It was his time with his only family, before he had any responsibilities to take care of, and in the short time that she was herself again.

He silently moved his Yaldu into the river, only one space rather than the given three.

“I heard Dieru saying there are new people,” Jaleya’s violet eyes met his.

Cameron stuttered in his move back to his relaxed seat, watching her face carefully as he searched for a safe answer. “Yes,” he gave her a small smile. “They were picked up yesterday.”

“Have you met them?” She quickly moved an Aesa to the left side of the board.

“A couple,” he said vaguely, aware of the line they were approaching.

“What are they like? What abilities are they?” Jaleya’s gaze sparked with curiosity.

“I only met two briefly,” he half-lied. “One is a Raoa,” a fire user, a tempered one as well. “The other is an Eswie,” a water user that seemed rather reserved, he thought.

“Oh,” she chirped. “There’s four, aren’t there?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Cameron moved his Yaldu into another space. His jaw was tense; he hoped she couldn’t see it.

“How old are they? Are they another family?”

He could see how excited she was about the idea. Even with her problems with other people, she was good with children. “No,” he said carefully. “Most of them are your age, I think.”

She casually moved her Aesa again, paying more attention to the conversation than the game now. “That’s nice,” her voice had dropped some of its earlier enthusiasm. “Who brought them in?”

Cameron felt his heart freeze. He hoped it wasn’t showing on his face, he hoped he had kept his limbs relaxed enough for her not to notice.

Jaleya’s observant gaze met his, her curiosity dropping to realization as soon as their eye contact clicked. Her face dropped, her body almost curling into itself in an instant.

He knew she was gone, his sister back to the shell she had turned into after their mother’s death.

“I see,” her voice was weak, violet eyes staring into the unknown as her memories overtook her mind.

Cameron didn’t have to be a telepath to know what she was seeing. Jacob being back meant a connection to that night was closer than she wanted.

Jaleya didn’t have the control he had, she was too young, and had been destroyed when she felt their mother die. She had been upstairs, she had been there when their mother’s throat had been slashed. She had felt the moment their mother had been practically gutted.

She had once been on their team, eager to learn and not ready for the tole that their ‘gift’ brought. She had followed his example, not accounting for how he had been broken at six years old.

Cameron had felt it too when he walked into their home, but he was able to control the pain and muffle the overwhelming sense of death that was connected to his soul. But Jaleya was too vulnerable, and she was too close. When he lost his mother, he also knew that he had lost most of his sister, but for the glimpses he had of her again.

There had always been a sense of death around Jacob since his father had him hunting down daemons since he was young, but Cameron had noticed how it had grown much stronger in the time before he had left. It wasn’t as strong as it was then, but he had felt it yesterday too.

He cared about Jacob in the sense that they had worked together for years, and he was the younger brother of one of his good friends. He was a good friend, but he was always a little difficult for him to be around. For Jaleya, he was impossible to be around.

Now, she sat with her head bowed, eyes unfocused.

He had seen the aftermath of what had happened, the stains in their home. She had been the one to find her, and it had been Ryan who had stumbled upon her clinging onto their mother’s body at fourteen years old.

He called her name with little avail, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He should have changed the topic, but he couldn’t change that now.

He reached over the game board to grip her hand in support, his heart warming at the gentle pressure she returned. It hurt to stand and move to the door of her solitary room, Allison meeting him on the other side with a sad smile.

“She’s been doing better,” the young woman reminded him.

Cameron shot her a look that he knew showed what his thoughts were.

Allison’s golden eyes held no judgment, her sad smile revealing her doubt.

“Slowly, but surely,” Cameron swallowed. “Maybe one day we’ll finish a game.”

____________________________

Jacob sat on his cot with his legs crossed underneath him. He had awoken in the early hours of the morning to find Elaine staring unseeingly ahead, her head propped on her hand as she struggled to stay awake. It had been a whispered struggle to get her to return to the observance, there had been so much he had wanted to say to her, and he knew that she had questions that she had only been too exhausted to ask.

He had laid awake after she had left, his gaze often wandering to the pair on the other side of the room. Seniar was sitting, bent in half with his head on his folded arms that rested on the edge of the cot. The man had stirred twice but hadn’t woken, the prominent bags under his eyes suggesting that he needed the sleep.

Jacob had watched the sunrise from his cot, watching the sky turn from black to navy, and then to the most beautiful shade of golden orange. Faint streaks of pink and lavender were still visible against the pale blue, the distant songs of birds in the morning light somehow being the clearest reminder that he had returned home.

Merul, the healer that had watched them overnight, had checked on him a few times in between the final treatments given to Anna. Now the man was glued to the counter in the corner, preparing for the morning team to come in at any moment. Jacob watched as he took note of the inventory, sorting out each supply carefully before marking it down.

Despite everything, his mind had remained relatively calm, the almost solitude of the night a comfort in the undesirable sense of trepidation in his gut. It was only a matter of time before his anticipation would be fulfilled, and there was nothing he could do to change that, and as the sun rose further from the horizon, that time grew thinner.

He looked over to Anna again, a beam of sunlight coming through the window and setting her golden hair aflame. He couldn’t see her face from his angle, but the soft rise and fall of the blankets covering her gave him some relief. He didn’t know what had happened to her, and he was too unsure to ask Merul. He couldn’t shake the look of fear and disbelief she had given him in the middle of the battle and knowing that she did get injured sent a wave of guilt through him.

He wondered how long it would take for the rest of the academy to learn of their presence. He knew that his father would have told the council, and his team was either told, or figured out her identity. Elaine had seemed to understand at least, but she must have also witnessed Seniar’s arrival. He trusted his team, and a majority of the council was capable of enough sense to not rush into judgment. What concerned him was that he couldn’t say the same for the rest of the academy.

A faint sound awoke him from his musings, leaving him frozen to listen. Slowly, the distinct pattern of heavy footsteps echoed in the front of the council building, growing closer. They were familiar, awfully familiar, and as they continued down the hall and toward the doors of the center, Jacob could feel his heart tightening in his chest.

His mind was at war at the halt of the man in the corridor, just outside. Part of him wanted to run, to disappear as if he had never returned, but he knew he couldn’t. It was too late and there was nowhere to go.

His clock had run out.

The door opened, revealing the large figure looming on the other side. Sharp bronze eyes set on him at once, shadowed by his heavy brow line. The headmaster’s grayed-brown hair was combed away from his face, revealing the sharp curve of his features while he scowled in contemplation at his son. He stepped into the room, folding his hands behind his back as the door swung to a close behind him. A passing glance could pass the man off as calm, but the tense stance of his broad shoulders told a story of silent fury. He wore his council robes of blue and tan, yet Jacob could envision the consuming black of his battle armor instead.

The gold in his father’s eyes sparked and Jacob could feel the encroaching perspective on the wall of his mind. He tightened his jaw, holding his boundaries while trying to keep his being free from any signal of his true emotion. “Father,” he addressed plainly, unable to keep the small amount of gravel to his voice.

“Jesan,” His true name was a cold curse upon his father’s lips; yet spoken as if it was not. “I’m glad to see you’re recovering from your injuries.” The headmaster’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he cast his gaze down before rising to meet his again.

Jacob was silent, watching the carefully constructed mask of his father.

Maishear looked across the room to the figures of Anna and Seniar, a flare of anger visible for a split second before it was snuffed out. “I would like to speak with you if you’re feeling up to it.”

The request was no such thing, and the building pressure of his father’s prying within the confines of his mind spoke louder than anything he could say. “I will come when I’m fully healed,” Jacob told him, twisting his face in a convincing act of pain as he shifted himself on the cot. “I feel a bit disoriented right now,” he raised his fingertips to his brow, running them lightly across his temple.

His father’s eyes flashed again, the corner of his mouth jumping in the way that stirred Jacob’s insides. “You’ve been fully healed,” his tone was that of an exasperated dad, chiding. “So, come along.”

He cursed internally, withholding the urge to glance at Merul who had clearly been the one to reveal the truth to the headmaster. He swung his legs free of the cot, standing slowly as his legs were truly unsteady; though if he stumbled, he wouldn’t say if it was for a convincing show or not. “Can I change first?” He played along, gesturing to the healing center’s spare clothing that was far from his size, the shirt falling halfway to his knees, designed for one that was much larger and more vertically blessed than he.

His father looked him up and down, the internal debate ending quickly with a curt nod. “I expect you to be in my office in ten minutes,” he raised his eyebrows, holding eye contact for an extra second before turning away.

The room was a curse to be in, the muffled songs of the birds were still heard through the windowpanes while his father made his retreat only in distance. It was only a beat of stillness before Merul moved to grab a pile of clothes Jacob recognized as his own. “Ryan dropped these off for when you woke,” the man’s words held no acknowledgment of the interaction he had just witnessed, his silvery eyes clear as he offered them to him.

Jacob’s stomach twisted, taking them with only a nod of gratitude before slipping behind a privacy screen in the corner just left of the door his father had just gone through. It wasn’t long before he had gotten rid of the healing center's black shirt and awkward shorts, replaced by a burnt orange tee and black jeans. He noted how they had lost the scent of his laundry detergent sitting untouched for as long as they had.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, grease had begun to gather around the roots and left an uncomfortable sensation on his fingers. He would need to wash when he returned to the observance, he had neglected that need for too long.

He found his boots at the base of the cot he had been laying on, putting them on in a manner that couldn’t exactly be described as quickly. He hid his dreading sigh with his rise back to his feet, taking a step forward before stopping.

He looked back to the far side of the room at the girl laying peacefully in his moment of trial. He could see her face, just as it was before her injuries except for a whitened scar on her temple above her right eyebrow. She was so innocent of everything he knew. He stayed there only for a second before continuing, not missing the Merul’s curiosity before following in his father’s footsteps through the door and out of the healing center.

Jacob made his way down the hall he had traveled almost a hundred times before, though admittedly, this was probably the earliest he had been in with the halls bare of anyone beyond himself and the lingering presence of his father. The walls opened around him as he reached the front of the building, light streaming down onto him from the large half-moon window placed above the entrance.

His head spun with his movement as he turned to ascend the staircase to the upper levels, each step overly loud for the quiet building. As he reached the second floor, he felt the urge to pause but continued upward to the third and final floor. Memories of his prior journeys up to his father’s office flashed through his mind as he hit each step, each had its own story, none of which led him to leave in comfort.

The large russet doors of his father’s office were the same as they had always been, yet now loomed a different sort of anticipation for what was about to happen. Without further hesitation, he opened them, piercing bronze eyes meeting his as soon as he stepped through the frame. The room was sparsely decorated, with only two chairs and a desk that faced the door. The morning sun set the dark wooden paneling alight with a russet sheen, contrasting the dark brown floorboards.

“So glad to see you’ve recovered from your injuries,” the cold sneer struck him from behind the large, dark desk that loomed at the center of the room. His father’s broad figure was tense, his bronze eyes sharp and cold.

Jacob stepped forward, stopping directly before him, close enough so he was looking down at his father. He could feel the pull at his own mind, the marker of his father testing the strength of the walls he had spent years building. He forced his face to remain neutral, despite the attempted intrusion.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” The headmaster’s voice was dangerously low, each syllable a hiss through his gritted teeth.

Jacob was painfully aware of the sword his father carried at his side as his facade of patience slipped. “Somewhat,” he responded, keeping his mind blank in case his father was able to break through his defense.

His father leaned forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together in an eerily smooth manner. “Do you know what the humans are saying?”

“I can only imagine,” his heart was pounding so hard, he wondered if his father could hear it.

“You could very well have just exposed our existence,” his father’s knuckles turned white as they gripped each other, though his angular face remained stoic. “This time, I can only do so much to control the narrative, do to your public demonstration.”

Jacob held back a wince. He knew exactly how bad this could be, and how bad it already was.

“You and the rest of your team are wanted by human authorities,” it wasn’t a surprise, considering, but it still sent a nail through his heart. “Kidnapping, assault, trespassing, and murder.”

“Murder?” Jacob’s blood ran cold, and he sucked in a shaking breath. He fisted his hands, trying, but failing to keep his composure.

His father was hardly affected. “The humans found a body of a student within the school. Security footage places you as the last to be with him.”

Asher. He knew it had to have been him, but it made no sense. Something had been deadly wrong, but he had been too distracted to even notice the extent that something could have happened right under his nose. “Me,” he breathed instead.

“Due to this warrant,” his father continued. “You are restricted to the grounds until further notice. This is in addition to you ignoring the order to return, as well as taking this mission at all. You not only put those children in your care at risk, but you have also placed every one of us in danger. There is only so much I can do to cool this fire. In leaving, you also disregarded the responsibilities you hold here.”

Didn’t he know it. Jacob swallowed, subdued a flinch at every point. His mind wandered to Asher, nausea building in his gut as he imagined the boy crumpled on the floor, lifeless. He had welcomed Jacob with little question, showing him compassion from the moment he had sat down beside him on his first day there. Whatever had happened to him, he didn’t deserve it.

“You also have brought back that thing with you,” his father’s voice twisted into disgust, pulling him back to the present.

“The thing,” Jacob repeated, staring at him for a moment. “You mean Anna?” He raised an eyebrow, noticing the candle of anger that was lit at his father’s phrasing.

“You dared to wait to disclose her identity,” the headmaster’s face had darkened even further. “It’s responsible for the destruction of our homeland, and does not belong in our sanctuary.”

“I reported her identity as soon as I confirmed it,” he bit out. “Even though I really didn’t want to. What else was I supposed to do, Father, leave her out there to die?”

“Much of the council is already in support of her disposal,” his father narrowed his eyes, a warning flashing in them. “It’s already proven herself to be dangerous, and I am not the only one who does not want to welcome that mutant.”

Jacob was aware of his nails biting into his palms, his jaw protesting at how tight he had pulled it. “She has done nothing to prove anything,” he insisted. “She’s untrained and did no different than anyone else without control of their abilities. Might I remind you that she is also younger than I am, and I was too young to do anything during the attack? I assure you, she is not this dangerous being you make her out to be.”

His father said nothing but simply observed him for a moment. It sent chills down Jacob’s body like his father was looking straight into his mind, but the shield was still intact.

“Then, until a decision is made,” the headmaster continued on, his anger fading away to a calculated interest that alarmed him even further. “You are to be responsible for its care. It is to remain with your observance, and you will look after its needs and if you so deem necessary, its training.”

Jacob held back a remark on his father’s insistence on treating Anna as though she were some type of pet or object, rather than the girl she was. At least, this way, he could keep looking after her. He could confirm her well-being and progress for himself. “Fine,” he agreed.

“The others will begin their studies as soon as they settle in,” he pressed on. “And as for the last child, your team is to make up for their failure and return to retrieve him by sundown tomorrow.

Jacob blinked. Who had been left behind? Ben and Rachel had been with him, he had seen them with Ryan and Eleanor. Oh. That made sense. “I will let them know,” he bowed his head. “I did want to mention,” he blurted. “I noticed something strange with the Hytroxae that you should be aware of.”

His father raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on.

“It wasn’t camouflaged, but rather presented as a student.” Not like a Hytroxae at all, but very like a potential shapeshifter. If that was the case, their problems were even greater than if it had been a random daemon attack.

“I see,” his father seemed to follow his thoughts exactly. “I will inform Kesritae of your findings.”

Jacob nodded, and he was suddenly aware of how many paces it would take for him to leave his father’s office. He was ready for this conversation to end before it could go any further.

“Of course, now that you’ve returned, you will resume your responsibilities immediately.”

Jacob froze but recovered quickly. “Of course,” he muttered. “I have a lot to catch up on with my team. I’m afraid all other responsibilities have to wait until I’ve mended my mistakes. I’m sure you understand, Father.” The candle of fury had grown into a flame, but he had to keep it hidden.

The headmaster’s narrowed gaze told him that his father may have understood, but didn’t care. Not unexpected, but enraging. “You know my expectations,” his voice was laced with a warning.

“I do,” Jacob acknowledged, a hint of his anger slipping into his words.

“And you know what will happen if you disobey my orders again.”

Any remaining warmth that may have been in Jacob’s body was now gone as he met his father’s unfeeling eyes. “I understand,” his own golden gaze flashed with anger. “But I hope you understand that I will fight your decisions that hold no merit,” he stated, ignoring the fear that arose in his chest at the declaration.

His father didn’t move, but something changed deep within his eyes.

Jacob sucked in a breath, bowing his head to mark the end of their conversation. He turned to leave, his pulse pounding in his ears, feet heavy. He almost didn’t believe what he had just done.

“I’m sure you will,” his father’s dismissive retort cut into him one last time as he reached for the door. It was all Jacob could do to hold in his temper just long enough to keep himself from slamming the door behind him as he fled the office, leaving his father behind.

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[wickedslip]

She clung to him like the gravity that made humanity solder firm to the ground. When she found herself enveloped within him, she painted him as the devil she knew he was, enticing her like he had. She had never truly had to win him over— in fact her mind was processing the fact that she was beginning to forget a time when she hadn’t been helplessly wound around him. She knew that her many lifetimes was a solid lifetime for him— his never truly ending. She wasn’t an idiot; he couldn’t stand around, waiting for her to be born to find her in the next life. He’d had others before her, and others in between her lifetimes. But she wanted to ensure that in each, she would make sure that every last second would count. The truth was, she didn’t want to live a life that he didn’t exist to her. Even if they ever grew upset with one another, it would never last. He was too entwined in her soul to ever be untangled, just as their bodies were succumbing to that notion in that given instant.

She could remember some of her past lives, not all. But in each, she knew that he had been a part of every one that he could manage. She had prematurely passed, and it was due to the spite and jealousy of others, whether it was by an instrument of her father or Kol’s brother. They would find a way for it to not happen this time, as she felt it was truly different. They had made it through the flames unscathed, and she managed to bear his last name; something she wasn’t sure had ever happened before. But she was so very happy with him— with her life with him. They were powerful on their own, but they were more so when together as the culmination was a prowess unlike the universe had ever seen.

When his midnight dark eyes bore into hers, drilling into her, she had been so gone. So completely gone, that her normal lavender eyes could feel turning into a saturated hibiscus-violet, growing darker with the break in her fiery resolve. She felt her entire life twisted around his, gripping them like a conjoined noose, locked for all time. She was made for him— her other half. She could still feel the vibrational thrumming of the sh sh sh to envelope her senses, both telepathically and with that of his physical voice. Was it possible to fall more into the eternal deep with longing and infinite adoration? Could a person be this far gone, already? Yes, it was possible. And fate gripped her like a revelation, unable to deter or detach itself. She melted for him and her body soldering herself against his was the response she could feel that he desired.

She shuddered against him, unable to help the emotions that filamented through their wavelength, deepening the response of the kiss, their lips pressed firmly against one another. She could taste his warm breath on her tongue, in the confines of her mouth. She wanted to devour every atom that was comprised of him. Hands roaming until they found his flesh, her nails grazed the soft, suppleness of his back. Drawing her legs up and around him, she hadn’t even realized that she was no longer over him, but under him— how could she ever keep up with him? Mewling against him, her need for him grew, until her waist was cinched against his, bringing him closer into her web. Biting the swell of his lips, eyelashes fluttering, slowly moved down the column of his throat to implant tiny love bites there, driving him to the brink of insanity.

the way I RAN TO DO THIS

if someone would have told him one day, he knows that he liked to repeat himself on this, he was an old entity after all, that he would find someone with whom he would want to go around the world with, would never want to separate from, would actually gives the world and more of, even if many people would try to separate them out of jealousy, he would have said that nothing could stop him in his rise to power. nothing. it was a lie. especially when when his black eyes fell on her, when purple eyes bored into his own darkened souless ones, he was already gone. thinking about different scenarios. like, when was their wedding going to be?

and yet, kol was not like that in the past. his family could say that he was rather libertine on the edges. something he does not regret. because at that time, he was not the type to believe that only one person was made for him. he had lived many tumultuous love stories in the past, but now, he knew that he was only the man of one and only woman. nausicaä thorn mikaelson. just the pronunciation of his last name, which he hated to the point sometimes, but to know that she was his? he was more and more crazy about it.

who was he to say the opposite? especially when watching her do everyday things made him even more in love with her.

when he tried to stop teasing her with his sh, sh, sh antics, he couldn't help but enter her thoughts. it was something he loved to do a lot. torturing her with his little whispers. especially when seeing her melt on the spot was something he loved to admire even more. she was about to braid her hair, and yet, he tried to play with her, as if playing with fire was not going to burn him. the eyes that are always trying to penetrate her soul were now filled with desire? a smirk appears as he shrugs and catches her when she throws herself on him.

he loved having her close to him. feeling her body quiver under his hands, the whimpers that came out of her salacious mouth, he couldn't help but let his hands wander all along her body that he liked to call altar, as he kissed her even deeper, lips nibbling hers fiercely, until he could taste the nectar that has haunted him for years now as he murmurs against her.

" sh, sh, sh …. "