#thin but strong vault

[brent-emery-pieczynski]

Staircase Without Bottom Support

[yaut-jaknowit]

Omg ♡

Human accidentally saving a Yautja? The human is oblivious to the fact that they saved him?

Could be spicy. it could be sweet, just a thought bouncing around in the head.

A Total Smash

Pairings: Dai'stbaen (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 6410 (thirteen pages... THIRTEEN PAGES)

Summary: The mountains are your home. Deep in winter, you head into town to get your necessary supplies to survive for two weeks. A rumor roams throughout the small town. You are put on edge. Upon the trip back up to your home, far from civilization, you had no time to react.

Author Note: Okay, okay, bear with me. It's been a hot moment since I last posted. I've got four in total in the vault to post. I wanted to catch up a little since my new job has been time consuming. I did warn you guys my writing may slow down unfortunately, but I'm fighting through it! Also, I'm so sorry but I wasn't able to get to the smut part. If you shot me a dm or another ask, I'm more than happy to continue. I'll even shoot it to the top of my list for you!

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2

Deep in the mountains, where cell service was spotty at best, nestled your warm, comfortable home. It housed you and two dogs. There was nothing more than needed for this relaxing life you live. With internet at the house, you can work remotely for your job. Never required to come in and barely show your face.

Both dogs, Kodiak and Vivian, were curled up happily on the couches. Each dog getting their own seat to themselves. You huffed with a soft smile at the sight before grabbing your keys. “Okay, babies, I’ll be back. Be good for me!” you called out to them. Only Vivian raised her head. Besides that, neither made an effort to say goodbye to you.

With that, you went out the front door. A bitter cold instantly rained down on you. It tried to bite through your jacket to steal away your warm. The jacket held strong while you hustled towards your auto-started truck. A necessity if living this far from town and in the dead of winter. A little Nissan wasn’t going to get you even down your driveway in this kind of weather.

Inside the vehicle, it was wonderfully warm and toasty. The heat blasted while the butt warmers worked their magic. I put the key into the ignition then carefully crawled down the driveway.

The trip to the store was uneventful. Just the same people you see every two weeks when you make the adventure down to town. Everyone knows everyone. They know who you are and know this is the day you come in. Usually, you get the same thing every time. Once in a blue moon, you’ll find something of interest and place that into your cart as well.

Today was no different than any other. You grabbed the necessary items and piled your cart up. Items that would last the two weeks away from civilization. That included fresh fruits and vegetables. Those would be stretching it to last that long. Yet, they were part of your diet. You made due.

Susan, a young woman, brightened up at the sight of you. The gloomy teenager was the daughter of the owner. Her mother made her work here. Something she complained about often. You could agree with her. She may seem rude on the outside but once you break past that shell, she was a dear to chat with.

The two of you caught up on intel about what’s been happening around the town. Mainly, Susan chatted your ear off. Apparently, Rick, a well known hunter, had gone missing. It was like he up and vanished from thin air. You may not know the man well but you’ve allowed him to stay at your home while he went up further into the mountains to hunt.

Then, Susan began to rave about a new guy that just moved into town. She instantly called dibs on him and pointed an accusing finger at you. “Dibs! He’s mine. Don’t even think about it,” she playfully scolded and continued to scan more of the items you were buying.

A laugh bubbled in your chest. Both of your hands were raised at the sides of your head, in surrender. “Okay, okay. I got the message. He’s all yours.” Not that you think this man was old enough for you to dabble with. You weren’t interested anyhow. No one in town… really riled you up. Which explains your dry spell.

She narrowed her eyes at you for a moment before relaxing. “Good. I’ve been trying to get his number the moment I’ve heard he moved in,” she told you, shoulders sagging.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” The words may seem apologetic, but Susan knew better. There was sarcasm hidden between them.

Instead of her finger, she threatened you with a log of ground beef you were going to use for burgers or tacos. “Oh hush, miss ‘lonely on top of my mountain’. I don’t know how you do it. Only having those two dogs as company. Seems so lonely and cruel to yourself.” Susan shook her head, letting her blonde hair sway side to side.

You chuckled with a grin and leaned on the counter. “I’m a loner. It’s not a bad life. Bills paid. The forest as my backyard. The birds and squirrels greeting me in the morning. With a small river to dip my feet in every day. It’s peaceful and relaxing. You should try it,” you offered with a teasing glint in your eyes.

“With Rick missing, I wouldn’t step foot out there. Who knows what took him. What if it’s like a Green River killer situation happening? You could be next. You would be a perfect opportunity.” The last of the items were scanned. You put your card into the reader. “All alone. You only come down into town every two weeks. No cell service. If you were killed, we wouldn’t know until the next time you were suppose to come in.”

With all of that laid down in front of you, the realization of the situation with Rick hit you. Yes, you could next. But, for someone to find your property that far into the mountains, they would need to specifically hunt you down.

“Susan, I’m fine. I got a gun, my dogs, and a lot of courage. Why else would I like so far from civilization? I knew the risks. I’m willing to take it.” You pulled the card out of the reader and slipped it back into your wallet. “Plus, Kodiak and Vivian would alert me if someone was near. They’re good guard dogs.” Well, not Vivi. Kodiak, was though.

The teenager reached across the counter to grasp your hand. “I still worry. You’re… one of my few friends that I feel close to. Please, don’t let you go missing too,” she pleaded with a hurt look etched into her features. You placed your other hand on top of hers and patted it.

“I won’t. You know me. I fight like hell,” you reassured her. Susan looked at you for a few more moments before taking back her hand. The two of you said your goodbyes before you left the store with a full cart.

On the drive back home, your thoughts were slightly scrambled from the fact there was Rick was missing. He knew the forest like the back of his hand. Any of the kids in town who wanted to learn to hunt went to him. He was an excellent hunter. One of the bests out there. But now… he was MIA. That thought churned your stomach.

Whilst in the deep end of your thoughts, your truck came around a corner. The snow on the road wasn’t terrible. A current flurry fell to cover the ground. It only made the sight difficult to see in front of you. Yet, you knew this roads like the back of your hand.

The added weight in the back of your reliable truck aided you well. You happily kept trucking your way along and popping to the sounds of your music.

Before it registered in your mind, something smashed into the grill guard on the front of your truck. Whatever it was went flying and disappeared through the flakes that filled the air. You gasped and stupidly stomped on the brakes. What little road there was present caught your tires and thankfully stopped you rapidly.

You were out of the vehicle before you knew it and rushing towards whatever you had hit. The snow was slick under your feet and took you into the embankment. Your feet were no longer underneath you. A short yell escaped you. You found yourself sunk into two feet of snow. When you get home, it seems like you’ll be stripping. The last thing you wanted was to get sick.

As you slowly rose to your feet, one of your hands landed on something that didn’t feel like it should be. Warmth greeted your palm. In this weather? It’s below freezing.

A confused expression pinched at your features. With a caution that guided your moves, you began to brush away the snow you must have pushed onto whatever this is.

One brush revealed something dark under the snow. The light of the day showed the surface to be… scaly? That’s the best word you could come up with. You peered down to see a fishnet like material that covered the scales. All you could think of was a stripper. Did you hit a… stripper? What the hell was a stripper doing this far from town? Why?

Despite it being imposable, the figure was warm. Pleasantly warm to the touch. You uncovered more and more until you come to release this was a human? Sort of. It had a humanoid form but wore a mask of metal. It covered the lower portion of its face to show off two deep eyes which were closed.

Whoever this was, wasn’t normal. The head shape was what screamed at you. Then, the strange rubbery like dreads that sprouted from underneath its dome shape head. Whiskers that looked to be made of the same material as its hair created eyebrows that crawled up the edges of its head.

Was this the thing you hit?! Your hand wrapped around its wrist, only to find that your fingers couldn’t even encircle it. There was at least two inches of space. But, you turned its wrist so the underside pointed skyward. Two fingers were placed on where a pulse point would be on human.

The warmth the form produced was amazing. The snow was melting when it fell on its exposed body. You almost wished to snuggle against it and savor its heat. Instead, you felt like behind your fingertips with relief. Now, what were you going to do with it?

For a moment, you glanced at your truck and knew the tonneau cover on the bed of your truck would be protective. There was not a chance in a million years that you could lift its hulking form and seat in it. The bed of your truck would be the easiest to get it into your truck. You didn’t know what it was. That was the scary part. But, you felt awful for smashing into it. The poor thing unconscious and lying in a ditch.

Your bottom lip was gnawed on.

With whatever strength you had, the humanoid figure found its way partial draped over your shoulders and back. Both of its muscular arms were thrown over your shoulder to help keep it up. You carefully dragged the unknown creature up the embankment and over to your truck.

Its head was next to your ear. Soft snores escaped its hidden mouth. The corner of your mouth curls up in a softly smirk. The sound was adorable for something so big. You didn’t except it make such a noise.

Your legs quivered with the strain of holding the creature up and reaching for your tailgate. The door eased down and offered you the needed space. A grunt surged past your lips. You tossed his upper portion onto the tailgate. The back end of your truck lowered with the added weight. Then, you bent down to grab its lower legs.

The strength it took to get the rest of it inside nearly made a vein pop in your forehead. You panted and leaned against your truck, head tilted back. The biting cold and falling snowflakes made your nose cold. You pushed the rest of it far enough before closing the gate with a slam. One more glance around provided no results. Just the empty forest that surrounded you.

You got back into your truck with a shuttering breath. Heat blasted in your face and unfroze the skin. It felt wonderful compared to the cold that clawed desperately to suck away your warmth. But, the metal of the vehicle protected you. You put it into drive and continued the drive back home to your dogs.

On the way back, all you could think of was the creature. What was it? And why was it out here of all places? This was the middle nowhere. There was no cell service. Nothing out here. Just the way you like it. Yet, here was this monstrous, towering beast that didn’t look human. Here you are, taking it home… to do what? Take care of it? To nurture it back to health? Well, you did hit him with your truck. That, you felt bad about.

White blanketed the entire front area of your driveway. The snow still coming down heavily at this point. You stepped out. The bitter cold returning to steal your heat. You trudged to the front door and unlocked before returning to the tailgate of your truck. It took little effort to pull it open and reveal the still unconscious body. You didn’t know what you would’ve done if it was awake. That was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now.

From the front door to your current position, it was about fifteen feet. The front porch was protected by the overhang. You gathered your strength and nerves before dragging the form closer to you. The truck continued shake at the weight of the creature. This was going to be difficult. You lugged the chest of it onto your back while slinging it’s arms over your shoulders. Not even the full weight was upon you and you felt like it was about to crush you. The adrenaline from before had worn off during the drive.

The muscles of your thighs trembled as you strained to get it out. You guess this was your sign to work out from more. It took a lot of finesse to lug the form out so it could be draped haphazardly over the top of you. One step after another, you worked your way to the front door and kicked it open. Both dogs charged out the front door to greet you. They raced up to the two of you and heavily sniffed at the legs of the creature.

“Guys! Stop! It’s difficult enough to carry this thing without either of you trying to drag it down,” you scold the two with a stern voice. Both of them eased up on their excitement but continued to take in its scent. You sighed and finally entered your home after such a long day.

The creature flopped down onto your couch the best you could with it’s size. It was massive, not even fitting on your full length couch. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand in a humorous manner before marching out the front door again. From there, you hauled in the days work you had gone out to retrieve.

Once everything was inside the house, the door was closed and animates corralled back inside. All the food and supplies you got were swiftly put away before you got out the first aid. You didn’t know what you could do for it without any medical knowledge. It was let bleeding by the looks of it. You knelt besides it on the couch and noticed what looked to be bruising and swelling all along its right side. The grill guard. Your fingers gingerly ran along the blazing scales.

This was all your fault.

With the limited knowledge to care for serious injuries, you grabbed an ice pack from deep within your freezer. Kodiak and Vivian came over to investigate why you weren’t giving them attention. Kodiak, the bigger of the two, had his hackles raised and stood rigid a few feet away from the two of you. On the other hand, Vivian nudged her short, boxer nose into the creatures very human-like hand. The main difference was the scales and long black claws that tipped each finger. You shuttered and placed the cloth wrapped ice packs on the swelling.

Wheezing sounded with each inhale and exhale. The noise worried you. It wasn’t like you could take it doctor though. One look at this thing would have the FBI and CIA on your ass the second afterwards.

Despite it looking dangerous, the last thing you wanted was to put it through more harm. You already hit it with your truck and sent it flying like a reindeer through the air. The evidence was blooming on its two-tones scales. A mix of burgundy and tan. The red turning dark in some areas.

Upon closer inspection, skin was spilt on its forehead. Red blood did not flood from the cut. But a neon green that glowed despite the light in your living room. You did the best you could to tend to the mediocre cut. It wasn’t like it needed to be worried over. You fulfilled your duties then stepped away to prepare for dinner. There wasn’t much else you could do for it.

Now, it was up to fate if it is to wake up.

Amidst the preparation of dinner, your dogs whined and begged for their own. A glance at the clock told you it was past their dinner time. You were swift to make up a healthy concoction of raw meat, eggs, and a couple of vitamins to sprinkle on top. Their bowls were set in their respected spots. Each dog was given their command to eat.

Satisfied with that, you happily returned to making yourself food for the night. Every once in a while, you would glance over at the limp body still blanketing your couch. You still couldn’t believe how massive it was. If it were to stand, it would easily tower over you. You were thankful it hadn’t woken up though. You didn’t know what you would do when it would possibly wake up.

Water boiled in an otherwise empty pot. You side stepped to reach for the box of pasta. At the same time, you peered over your shoulder for a fleeting moment. The couch was empty. The box became your focus. You opened it up before pausing.

The couch was empty.

Heat flooded your backside.

A scream left your lips. Your body reacted before your mind fully comprehend the situation. You spun around and chucked the box of open pasta at the wall of muscles that stood directly behind you. It bounced off and scattered loose noodles all over the ground.

The wall didn’t move. Another scream left your lips. You scrambled to get towards the bat next to your door. Kodiak was the first to react and come bounding into the kitchen at full speed. A deep rumbling growl filled the air. Angry barks echoed off of the walls.

The cold metal of the bat met your palm. You whipped around and wielded your new weapon in the face of your intruder. Only to pause at the sight of the towering figure in your kitchen. Despite the lower portion of its face covered, its eyes clearly showed the confusion inside of them. It glanced down at the spilled pasta then at you. You gulped and kept the bat in front of you. God, it looked like it could take this thing away from you and bend it into a pretzel.

When it made no move towards as the tense seconds passed by, you timidly lowered the bat. Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips. “You’re… awake,” you stated the obvious. But, you didn’t know what to say. Could it even understand you?

Intelligence shone in its bright, yellow eyes.

Nothing human-like.

It took a moment to take in its surroundings and ignored the snarling, slobbering dog in front of him. Its form was lax. You didn’t know if that should scare you or not.

“Kodiak!” you recalled the protective, black mut to you. His growls died down. His eyes didn’t leave the towering form the creature. He expertly walked over to you and stood in front of you. His body acting like a wall.

Vivian roamed into the kitchen, nose towards the ground. The boxer mutt sniffed at the fallen pasta until she came upon the creature. Her tongue lolled out while she tilted her head up. Her tail began to wag.

The two of them are polar opposites.

Fear gripped your heart. It knelt down and started to stroke her head. You didn’t miss the way it winced at the move. Guilt flooded you. It was your fault it was in this situation. Injured. The least you could do was offer a roof over its head and a full belly. Hopefully, that would save you from any transgressions. The last thing you wanted to do was piss it off. Those arms could tear your head straight from your body.

Bright yellow eyes returned to your timid form. In the eyes of a predator. Your heartrate began to pick up. You swallowed hard. “How, how are you feeling?” Thoughts were racing in your mind. Maybe, you could offer it some painkillers to ease off the agony of what looked to be broken ribs. They were at least bruised and could even be cracked. If they were broken, you wouldn’t forgive yourself. It was hard enough with the knowledge you had hit it.

A shuttering breath escaped your quivering lungs. It stared at you. All while petting Vivian. She just sat there, happy as a clam. Her tail wagging away in delight. Kodiak didn’t leave you despite his adoptive sister getting attention.

Then, it stood up. You felt yourself shrink. It was evident that this thing could move without you noticing. It shouldn’t be possible with its size and mass. None of the floorboards had creaked when it originally snuck up behind you.

While it looked at you, it felt wrong to return its gaze. As if you were poking the bear. You were making the situation worse than it already is. How could it get worse than this?!

Your front door shattering. Wood went flying at each of your feet’s. You yelled out and covered your head. The bat still gripped tightly in a death grip. A white blur zipped in front of you.

The form ignored you to wrap a hand around the creature and lifted him off of the ground. Kodiak went wild and charged without a care of his own safety. You screamed at him but he was in his own mind. To protect you.

Vivian yelped and scampered the best she could on the hard wood away from the scene. She was the smarter of the two.

Before stood a nearly ghost white humanoid form. Similar to the creature you had saved from the snow. Yet, its dreads were pure white. Devoid of any melatonin. You gasped. It had a death grip around the red creature’s throat and lifted it off of the ground. A pained grunt left its throat while it scrambled to get out of the hold.

Like son, like parent. You charged forward with the bat and smashed the metal end against the back of its white head. Ghost dropped Red with a pained grunt. Not a second was wasted. You continued to beat down on its nogging like your life depended on it. A guttural cry left your lips as you relentlessly bashed the metal bat.

A white slightly lime green hand whipped out and snatched the bat straight from your hands. Now, you were defenseless in the face of this monster.

Teeth latched onto its calf and dug in. Neon green blood sprayed out and soaked into Kodiak’s maw. You took the chance to back away.

A hulking body launched through the air and drug Ghost down. Fist flew. The harsh sounds of skin meeting skin in a vicious beat down filled the air. You stood there, arms slightly raised, as if you froze in the process of fleeing. All you do was watch as Red continued to introduce his knuckles to the metal of Ghost’s face.

The strength behind each punch caused the metal cave before giving. Neon green blood coated his red fists and coated them to the point it was flung everywhere. Its warmth dotted your clothing and face. But, you didn’t even flinch at the feeling.

Once Ghost had stopped moving, the punches halted. A scary calm entered the air. Red’s chest heaved with breaths but the mouth mask quieted the noise. You swallowed and pushed down the ringing in your ears. Its head whipped towards you with a rumbling snarl that nearly sent Kodiak off again. But, the lanky mutt came up to you to stand guard once in front of you.

Red realized it was you and silenced the sound immediately. Your hand carded through Kodiak’s fur to help quell the racing in your chest. The creature let his head tilt back a deep groan. Its dark dreads swayed at the move. The metal décor clinking against one another.

Your hand touched at your chest. The adrenaline in your system fading with each beat of your heart. The heat of the moment finally over. But, the fact you had nearly been slaughtered was a neon sign right in front of you. Your eyes finally focused on Red who was still straddling the dead body; of whatever they were.

In what felt like less than a minute, the situation had returned to normal. As the powerful drug left your veins, the biting cold that slithered into your expose home caused a chill down your back. You shivered and hugged at yourself.

The front door. It was nearly gone. Only bits and pieces hung on to the hinges. All the heat that was once inside the cozy home was gone. In came a cold you didn’t know how to battle.

A whimper left your lips.

A wall of muscle stood in front of you. Red’s hulking frame stood like a redwood tree over you. The first instinct was to shrink away. To flee. Pretty much. Your feet were rooted to the ground, unable to gather the strength and courage to run. To be a coward in the face of danger.

Kodiak no longer growled but his hackles were raised high. His dark brown eyes watched the unknown figure closely.

Heat rolled down in comforting waves off its body. It almost made you want to press yourself against it. You refrained from that embarrassing idea and glanced back over towards the destroyed door. “My door,” you pouted, sorrowfully and hugged yourself tighter. You had to think of something quick to keep the house a decent temperature.

Before you had a chance to get a plan in place, Red was already on the move. His body gracefully into the living room. You watched as blankets were gathered in those thick arms of his. He carried them over to the door.

As the best he could, he draped the blankets in layers. With the metal gauntlet on its arm, it punctured something into the wall multiple times. Each blanket was secured into place. It helped keep the majority of the cold out of your home.

His form stilled after he had blocked off your door. You took a breath of relief. The house was still drastically colder from the exposed elements. What he did though will help with preventing a quick exchange of temperature. You opened your mouth to speak your relief to him when the creature turned around to finally face you.

There was an air around him that made you slightly nervous. It made you off putted. With the dead body of someone like him on your floor, you had all rights to be. A life he took with his very own fists, and showed no mercy.

Yet, Ghost had come in here. A monster on a mission for the creature standing in front of you.

That left you with one major question: “What the hell happened?” you asked in a firm voice. Your heart thumped powerfully behind your breastbone. The adrenaline leaving your system and making you tired. The last thing you wanted was to pass out or grow dazed in front of him. Not when he showed what he could do without a weapon.

Red’s bright, blazing eyes were set on you. He strode across the living room to enter your space. The heat his body radiated rolled off onto you again. It made you strive to curl up against him. But, you stayed rooted in your spot and looked up at his towering frame. You were scared. At the same time, you held your own in the face of danger. A watchful, careful eye was set on him.

Your body was wracked with a shutter.

“You are cold,” he spot in a voice that barely uttered the words. It was almost like it wasn’t natural to him. His tongue and mouth wasn’t meant to form such words. Your eyes flickered wider before narrowing on him.

Both of your hands rested on your hips. “Well, no shit sherlock. It’s freezing outside and your friend here busted down my door,” you snarked at him. The cold making you a bitter human being.

All you could read on his face was his eyes. One of his brows simply raised at your words. “He was no friend.” Welp, he didn’t understand the sarcasm in your voice.

A sigh left your lips while you shook your head. The temperature was still far below a comfortable range. You recrossed your arms firmly to contain your own body heat. “Still doesn’t excuse the behavior for the fact my front door is gone.” It would take you some time before you could go back into town and get yourself a new door. You had work tomorrow. It was dangerous to be out after dark. There was no time between now and tomorrow.

You rubbed at the exposed skin on your arms with another shutter. The creature’s eyes flickered down to watch the move. He moved in. You opened your mouth to demand what he was doing then his arms wrapped around you. The warmth you’ve been craved soaked into your skin. A deep hum escaped you while you sunk against him.

“Why are you so warm?” you mumbled against the scales he had you pressed to. Your arms twitched, desperate to reach out and wrap them around him. Yet, you held back to keep some sort of composure in front of a beast you didn’t know.

Against your cheek, you could feel the bumps from his injured ribs. That brought you back to the present. You pulled away from him to put some distance between the two of you. “How are your ribs?” you asked in a timid voice. Now, you became hesitant to look him in the eye. That was embarrassing to be nearly drooling at the heat he produced. He should be your concern. You had been the one to hit him with your truck. He’s wounded too.

His hand drifted up to said area. Rough pads grazed along the swollen spot on his left side. You winced. It looked worse than before. The fighting must have agitated them more.

A shrug came from him. “They are… fine,” he struggled to find the last word at first.

In all honesty, you weren’t convinced but had to take his word for it. You glanced down at the body then back at him. The front door was unusable. There was the back door.

God, you didn’t want to deal with this now. Worse of all, you lost your appetite. You jolted then rushed over into the kitchen.

Water boiled over the edge of the pot and created a dangerous mess. You instantly turned off the heat and leaned on the counter. You weren’t going to say it but this day had turned worse. Sometimes, it was best to keep your trap shut. That, you learned the hard way.

Pained grunts sounded behind you. You peered over your shoulder at the sight of Red picking up Ghost’s body. He tossed it onto his shoulders, fireman style, with little issues. Your jaw dropped at the sight. Red glanced at you for a fleeting moment before walking towards the only other door in your home. You watched as he stepped out into the snow and darkness.

Despite no light, the snow reflect any and all light. Red walked and walked upon he was barely visible. The body slid off of his shoulders and was quickly swallowed up by the feet of snow that blanketed the area.

No one would find the body. Not this far out. Who would be looking for it in the first place? Clearly, they weren’t from here. They were… from somewhere else.

Red came trudging back into the house and closed the door behind him.

Before a silence could engulf the two of you, you took a breath in. “I don’t know if you know… but I had hit you with my truck. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t even know someone would be out there. No one should be. But here we are. Um, and in return, you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you want. My apologies for hitting you and such,” you stated to him and pushed off of the counter to stand up to your full height.

“There’s not much here. The other two bedrooms are taken. One for the dogs. The other for storage. Not like they had a bed in either of them. Y-you can stay in my room though. It’s big. It’s better than the couch.” God, you kept rambling on and on.

He chuffed. “It will grow cold out here. A ooman such as yourself wouldn’t battle the weather and win.” Your timid status nearly turned at his words. You wanted to smack him for the comment but refrained from doing so. Your head tilted at the use of ‘ooman’. It almost sounded like… human. Could he no say the word?

“What are you suggesting then?” you asked, unsure what he was trying to say.

“We sleep together.” The color drained from your face. Heat blazed to a burning fire all over your face. “We use each other’s body heat. Mostly, keeping you from freezing and dying on me.” He stepped close enough you saw the dimensions of his eyes. “You don’t realize it, but you not only saved me once but twice.”

Confusion took over your features.

“In the forest, on the road. I was fighting against the bad blood. You had came along in your vehicle and hit him. Then, just now.” Wait… you had hit both of them?! Your face morphed into horror. “As much as it pains me to admit to such a thing, you had saved my life twice. As per my honor code that I am bound to, I am in debt. I shall not let harm come to you.”

“Hold up! Hold up. Let me get this straight. I hit both of you.” You began to count off on your fingers with each point. “I somehow saved your life then. I drag you here. I save you again from… a bad blood? My god. What in the hell are you?!” You had both of your hands pointed at him. Your body very animate with your words.

“A Yautja. My name is Dai’stbaen. I am an enforcer,” he explains and forfeits information to you. You clutched at your forehead. “I hunt down bad bloods. Rouges of my kind and kill them.” You had to lean back against the counter again to keep yourself upright. All of this information was flying far too fast at you.

Then… it struck you. “You’re an alien.” It was more of a statement than a question. He wasn’t from earth. Aliens were real. Oh god. You felt lightheaded, on the verge of passing out from all of this hitting you straight in the face. A keen left your throat.

Dai…st’baen dipped his massive dome head. Your gaze was pinned to the floor but you weren’t looking at anything. You were trapped inside of the flying thoughts that turned into a hurricane.

Clearly, there was no sanity left inside of you. Not at this rate.

“Okay then.” After what felt like hours, you finally came to a conclusion. In the moment, you had to just roll with it. Adapt. Survive. A life you knew far too much about while living in the middle of nowhere. You met his eyes. “Well… um, this has been an eventful day. But, I think it’s time to turn it if you don’t mind. I need… to sleep on all of this.” Maybe some sleep could help you think clearer tomorrow.

The burgundy figure looked at you, eyes studying your figure for long moment. You took the moment to step around him and head towards your bedroom. “Come along, I’ll show you.”

Despite not hearing any pitter patter of feet, you felt his huge presence behind you. Like a shadow. You showed him into your room. It wasn’t much. But it was your space that you enjoyed. Yet, here you were, about to share it with someone else. Someone not even your own species.

One of your hands motioned towards the bed. “There’s the bed. I’ll go and grab some more blankets for you. It’ll… be really cold.” The sun was gone far below the horizon. There was no heat to share from the outdoors. It was all on the two of you to survive.

His bright eyes watched as you scurry into the hallway. Though, you wanted to be away from the scrutiny of his powerful gaze, you were swift to get armfuls of blankets. The night won’t be forgiving. Heat was essential to staying alive in a place like this. You didn’t know if he understood that or not. It wasn’t like he needed to be wrapped up in twenty blankets. He was a furnace himself.

All the blankets were tossed onto the bed into a pile. Then, you turned towards him. “I… uh, hope this is fine. It’ll be too cold out in the living room for me.” You really hoped he didn’t kick you out of your room. Not when the temperature could slowly drain you of your warmth.

Dai’stbaen merely shrugged before climbing onto the bed gingerly. You followed suit and wrapped yourself up in the blankets. Though this was your bed, you laid there straight as a rod and stared up at the ceiling.

This was going to be a long night.

[jackoshadows]

Firstly, why is it that Sansa can only be praised by comparing her to Arya? Secondly, in what world is Arya physically strong and more than Sansa?!

The masculinization of Arya Stark by tradfems in fandom has become so commonplace that I suppose many of them imagine this is how Arya and Sansa are in the books:

In case folks don't know this: ARYA IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN SANSA! She's the younger sibling!

Anyone who has read a Jon POV chapter should know that Arya is a skinny, little girl. Jon specifically makes a small, lightweight, thin sword for Arya to handle.

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. - Jon, AGoT

Arya has been on the run for two years, hunted by Lannister men, a slave put to hard physical work and starved for food.

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. - Arya, ACoK

Often as not, she went to bed hungry rather than risk the stares. - Arya, AGoT

"Lommy's hungry," Hot Pie whined, "and I am too." "We're all hungry," said Arya. - Arya, ACoK

Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. - Ary, ACoK

I knew we should never have left the woods, she thought. They'd been so hungry, though, and the garden had been too much a temptation. - Arya, ASoS

"An inn?" The thought of hot food made Arya's belly rumble, but she didn't trust this Tom. - Arya, ASoS

Rabbits ran faster than cats, but they couldn't climb trees half so well. She whacked it with her stick and grabbed it by its ears, and Yoren stewed it with some mushrooms and wild onions. Arya was given a whole leg, since it was her rabbit. She shared it with Gendry. - Arya, ASoS

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry. Like me, she told herself. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

We have the contrast of Arya having to trade some carrots and cabbages they picked from an overgrown garden to get some food and the innkeeper complaining about the lack of lemons to the sumptuous 64 dish feast in the Vale with a 12 feet tall lemon cake made especially for Sansa.

Anguy shuffled his feet. "We were thinking we might eat it, Sharna. With lemons. If you had some." "Lemons. And where would we get lemons? Does this look like Dorne to you, you freckled fool? Why don't you hop out back to the lemon trees and pick us a bushel, and some nice olives and pomegranates too." She shook a finger at him. "Now, I suppose I could cook it with Lem's cloak, if you like, but not till it's hung for a few days. You'll eat rabbit, or you won't eat. Roast rabbit on a spit would be quickest, if you've got a hunger. Or might be you'd like it stewed, with ale and onions." Arya could almost taste the rabbit. "We have no coin, but we brought some carrots and cabbages we could trade you." - Arya, ASoS

Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. From the rivers and the lakes came pike and trout and salmon, from the seas crabs and cod and herring. Ducks there were, and capons, peacocks in their plumage and swans in almond milk. Suckling pigs were served up crackling with apples in their mouths, and three huge aurochs were roasted whole above firepits in the castle yard, since they were too big to get through the kitchen doors. Loaves of hot bread filled the trestle tables in Lord Nestor’s hall, and massive wheels of cheese were brought up from the vaults. The butter was fresh-churned, and there were leeks and carrots, roasted onions, beets, turnips, parsnips. And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar. For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more. - Alayne, TWoW

Arya was already a little, skinny girl smaller than Sansa when they left Winterfell. She has been worked to the bone, sleeping rough and gone hungry. Again, by what logic is this Arya supposed to be physically strong and more than Sansa?!

There is this idea that's often pushed where Sansa is some dainty, fragile princess while Arya is this strong executioner henchwoman and it's just so tiresome and toxic.

Arya is also not Brienne! They are two different characters. If you want physically strong warrior types to compare to Sansa, there is already Brienne. Arya is the smaller, younger sister. In canon and logically, it's the taller, bigger, elder sister with access to good, rich food who would be physically stronger.

The Stark looking Starks tend to be slender and quicker compared to the bigger, stronger Tully looking Starks.

He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast. - Bran, AGoT

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry. Like me, she told herself. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

"Can't you guess?" Jon teased. "Your very favorite thing." Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together: "Needle!" - Jon, AGoT

Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth. - Jon, ADwD

This is one of the reasons for why Jon Snow is so protective of Arya Stark - he certainly doesn't see her as some physically strong warrior type, despite gifting her with a sword. He's scared for her because he knows that despite how clever she is, Ramsay can kill, rape and torture her - she's 'just a little girl'.

Arya deserves to be protected, same as Sansa. She is not there to be anyone's henchwoman, she does not have super strength and she is certainly not physically stronger than Sansa.

[kettlefire]

Time forgets most (DPxDC)

I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post

°•°•°•°

The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.

Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.

Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.

The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.

Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.

When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.

Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.

As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.

Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.

On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.

Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.

The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.

That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.

The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.

He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.

Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.

Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.

Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.

Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.

Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.

The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.

A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.

The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.

Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.

Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.

It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.

But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.

Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.

He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.

It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.

It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.

Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.

The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.

Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.

A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.

The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.

Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.

Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.

Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.

As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.

Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.

It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.

Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.

It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.

The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.

It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.

After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.

Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.

Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.

Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.

They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.

The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.

At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.

This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.

When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.

A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.

That was until Hal saw him.

Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.

Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.

A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.

The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.

Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.

Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.

Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.

The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.

Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.

Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...

Or...

Or...

He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.

That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.

Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.

Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.

Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.

[axeeglitter]

Back from the Vault: Forbidden Love

Luke and Nathan had always been close, best friends since kindergarten when Nathan stood up for Luke against a bully named Josh. Their bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, as college roommates, they were inseparable. Their small apartment was a mess of dirty socks, sports gear, and magazines, but they didn’t mind. It was their first place together, and they cherished every moment.

Both were in good shape, though Nathan was more muscular, often walking around campus shirtless, much to Luke’s amusement. Luke, though less physically imposing, was proud of his friend. But when Luke met Abby during their second semester, everything changed. For Luke, it was love at first sight, and since he spent all his time with Nathan, their duo turning into a trio was inevitable. But things started to evolve as Nathan, the athletic charmer, and Abby, the spirited cheerleader, began to take an interest in each other. After a couple of weeks, without Luke noticing anything different, Nathan came home one night and announced the good news to Luke that he was no longer single.

Initially, Luke was happy for Nathan. Abby was the perfect girlfriend anyone would dream of, and even though it was painful for Luke to see his best friend live the love story he had envisioned for himself, he was glad Abby was with someone like Nathan. However, as time passed, Luke struggled to find happiness watching them spend time together and seeing their relationship evolve and deepen. He couldn’t control the thoughts that crept into his mind when he was alone, and the guilt weighed heavily on him. He knew he couldn’t betray his best friend, but his feelings for Abby and the pain of this sense of betrayal only grew stronger each day.

One night, struggling with his emotions, Luke went to a bar to drink alone. The place was dimly lit and mostly empty, save for a woman sitting at the bar, surrounded by empty martini glasses. Her presence was almost otherworldly, with a mysterious aura that drew Luke in. She wore a long, elegant black coat above a black suit, her silver hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of moonlight. Her eyes, sharp and filled with unsettling wisdom, never left his as he approached.

Luke sat down next to her, ordered a drink, and before he knew it, he was spilling his heart out to her, confessing his unrequited love for Abby and his growing resentment toward Nathan, thanks to more beers than he could count. The woman listened in silence, her gaze never wavering from Luke’s face. When he finished, she smiled, a thin, knowing smile that sent a chill down his spine.

“I’ve seen men like you before,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “Men who want what they can’t have. Men who let jealousy consume them. Men who dream their lives instead of living their dreams.”

Luke shuddered, suddenly feeling as though he was in the presence of something far more powerful than he had anticipated. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he felt tears of frustration beginning to rise in his exhausted eyes.

The woman reached into her bag and pulled out a small, ornate vial filled with a strange, shimmering liquid. The liquid seemed to pulse with a life of its own, shifting colors from deep violet to bright emerald as she held it up to the light.

Luke hesitated as he held the strange vial the old woman had given him. He looked into her eyes, seeking some explanation for what this potion would do. The bar was dimly lit, and the shadows played tricks on his mind, making her seem more otherworldly with each passing moment.

The woman leaned in closer, her voice a low whisper. "This potion is powerful, but it won’t work on its own. You must mix it with alcohol, something strong, something your friend would drink willingly. Once he consumes it, his transformation will begin."

"Transformation?" Luke asked, unsure of what she meant. "What will happen to him?"

The woman smiled enigmatically, her eyes gleaming with a mix of sympathy and something darker. "He will change, Luke. Everything will change into something else, something that will remove the pain you feel, something that will ease it, something that will be useful and loved, cherished by the masses and needed by the world. He will change into something greater, and you will get your desires. But be warned: once the transformation starts, there’s no turning back. He will become anything that the potion sees fit, and you will finally live your dreams instead of dreaming your life," the mysterious woman said in an eerie voice. Luke could hear echoes of her voice resonating in his mind as his vision was blurred by the alcohol and the tears.

Luke swallowed hard, his mind racing with possibilities. He wanted Nathan out of the way, yes, but he hadn’t thought through what that truly meant. Still, the jealousy and frustration gnawed at him, and the idea of finally having Abby to himself was too tempting to resist.

"How… how do I control it?" Luke asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"You don’t," the woman replied. "The potion will cater to his master’s needs, his deepest desires. It will bend reality to fit what he truly wants. But remember, Luke: once it’s done, it’s done. There is no undoing what you will set in motion."

Luke nodded, unsure of what to say. He took the vial on the counter, his head tilted, his sight lost in the shimmering emerald and purple glitters of this liquid hope. “I don’t even know your… name,” Luke asked, but as he tilted his head, he realized the woman was not there anymore, leaving him alone at the bar. The bartender claimed not to have seen her, and Luke wondered if he had imagined the entire encounter. But the vial in his hand was real, and the temptation was too great to resist.

When he returned to the apartment, Abby was asleep in Nathan’s arms. Her head was resting on Nathan’s shirtless chest, her shoulders hugged by his hairless, muscled body. A wave of jealousy and anger washed over him. His hand tightened around the vial in his pocket as it started to glow with a faint green light. This was the last straw for Luke, and the potion activated to this feeling of jealousy and loneliness.

The next morning, while Abby was still asleep, Luke approached Nathan in the bathroom as he got ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you free tonight? I want to have a few beers with you, just the two of us,” Luke suggested, trying to sound casual. Nathan, a bit surprised but touched by the offer, was about to decline when Luke started again. “I don’t want to be sentimental or anything, but you are my best friend, and I just want to have a night like the good old days. We are growing up, and I don’t want time and relationships to put distance between us. I miss you, bro…” Touched by that, Nathan couldn’t say no. He looked into Luke’s eyes and realized that Luke was sincere, even more so because he never opened up about his feelings like that. Nathan smiled before answering, “Sure, man. It’s been a while since we hung out, just us.”

That night, as Luke and Nathan sat in the bar, Luke couldn’t shake the woman’s warning. He had mixed the potion into Nathan’s beer just as instructed, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and fear. They laughed, clinking glasses as they always had before saying in unison, “Bottoms up!” Luke forced a smile, masking the turmoil inside him, watching intently as Nathan downed the beer in one long gulp. As they continued to drink and laugh, Luke almost forgot about the potion. For a brief moment, everything was like it used to be: him and his best friend laughing, talking about everything and anything, and remembering their good old days. Luke started to notice subtle changes in Nathan. His movements became sluggish, his speech slightly slurred—nothing out of the ordinary after a few beers, but Luke realized it was more than that, and a deep feeling of joy started to rise inside him. His past was with Nathan, but his future would be with Abby. Nathan jumped off his chair all of a sudden and started to walk as best he could to the empty bathroom. By the time he reached it, he was struggling to stay on his feet, his head spinning uncontrollably. "Bro, are you okay?" Luke asked, feigning concern as he followed Nathan with calm, unbothered steps. Nathan groaned, gripping the sink for support. "I don’t know… something feels off. Like… like I’m burning up inside." Luke’s heart raced as he saw Nathan’s skin begin to redden, almost as if it were boiling from within. Sweat poured down Nathan’s face, his body trembling as he sank to his knees on the grimy tiles. "What’s happening to me?" Nathan gasped, his voice strained with pain. “I don’t know, bro, maybe you drank too much…” answered Luke as he saw Nathan’s transformation starting to appear.

Suddenly, Nathan screamed in pain as he felt his spine starting to hurt. A crack, and another one, then one more, again, and again, and again. Nathan felt like each of his vertebrae started to separate from each other before growing and thickening. The pain was awful, and for a moment, Nathan couldn’t breathe anymore. He fell on the grimy ground in front of the sink and tilted his head toward Luke with a pleading and terrified look. He needed help, but as he opened his mouth to call for his friend, a new series of cracks started to resonate in his bones. Nathan looked in front of him as his feet started to crack. His favorite pair of shoes felt constricting. It was almost like something was crawling inside as he saw the leather starting to boil, and then, with one loud ripping sound, his shoes vanished into dust, leaving his transforming bare feet on the cold tiles. His toes started to crack, elongate, and thicken. His feet started to grow thicker and longer as he went from a size 42 to a 47 in a couple of seconds. They looked way too big and disproportionate now, and as his nerves started to grow in them, he knew that it was only the start of something far worse. Nathan tilted his head once again with tears of pain in his eyes and found the strength to ask for help. But as the tears were starting to fall on his rosy cheeks, the only thing he saw was the vicious smile of his childhood friend.

“Do you know how hard it is to dream of something and never be able to get it? Do you know how hard it is to always stay in the shadow? Out of all the people on this planet, I really thought you were the one who would always be there for me. But instead, you ended up being the one that caused me to suffer the most. You remember how things were easy before? How we were happy and spending time together? Bros before hoes, right? Well, I think you forgot, and the worst part is, I can’t even blame you. Abby is a pearl. She is kind, talented, beautiful, smart. She is everything. And you knew I had feelings for her the moment my sight landed on her. But no, as always, you have everything, and I stood there, watching you live the love story I deserved. If at least you were still spending time with me, things would have been easier. But no! You had the perfect girlfriend, the perfect college life, and I stood there begging for crumbs of the life we could have had together. The best years of our lives, right? I don’t see how this can be the best. Standing in your shadow and sharing a bathroom as bonding time. Well, tonight it changes. Tonight, I get what I want. And you’ll finally understand what it feels like to dream your life instead of living your dreams,” said Luke with a sigh full of anger and pain.

Nathan realized at that moment that he wouldn’t be able to get any help from Luke because he was the one that caused it. As he tried to get up on his bigger, larger feet, a new pain appeared in his legs, and he crashed back on his hands and knees as the same thing started to happen to his pants. They started to boil, and all of a sudden, they exploded into dust as he stood there in his underwear with his hands next to the toilet seat. His legs started to boil—the bones shattering and reforming into stronger, thicker ones. His muscles boiled and reformed into massive ones that could crush watermelons between them.

Then the same phenomenon happened with his shirt and torso. All of a sudden, he was nearly naked in the dimly lit bathroom. His new muscled body glistened with drops of sweat and tears of pain as the final cracks echoed against the tiles. His new stronger, calloused hands stood still on the cold floor.

Nathan took a moment to realize the cracking had stopped, and he spasmed as he could breathe a bit better now that his ribs were done rearranging. He blinked and his back contracted as he tried to get up, but as he put his new sole on the ground, he felt Luke’s hand on his muscle-spasming back, forcing him back onto his hands and feet.

“I don’t think you are ready yet,” Luke said with anger in his voice as he realized a new change starting to unfold in the center of Nathan’s back.

Out of nowhere, Nathan started to feel a stinging sensation in his back where Luke saw the start of the change. Then, just like a wave crashing on the shore, the sensation began to grow and move all around in a circular motion, leaving in its wake a more golden natural brown tan. As the wave of stinging started to reach the front of his body, Nathan realized, screaming in fear, as his pale white skin began to change to a natural golden tan. As the wave passed through his muscled pecs, his nipples took on a brown cherry hue. Then, as the wave finally reached his legs and hands, Nathan turned his hands to look at his palms, noticing a faint demarcation as the inside of his hands was taking on a lighter golden tan than the rest of his body. The tingling then started to get worse in some areas of his body. His armpits, legs, pecs, happy trail and crotch began to burn. It was as if he were being burned alive, and sweat started to pour out of his pores, but instead of water, millions of tiny follicles of dark, dense hair began to be activated by the wave of change. Nathan felt the hair starting to scratch against his new sensitive skin, and he could even see some of his thick pit hair spilling out of his pits.

Nathan’s breath was intense and fast. He felt the transformation moving, and he was frozen in pain and fear as he felt the wave finally reach the base of his neck.

As it started to move, his face began to change. His lips started to grow and inflate as they took on a natural cherry color. Then his nose cracked and reformed into a stockier, bigger version of its old appearance. Nathan could smell a faint odor of blood as his sinuses cleared and grew into a bigger cavity, resulting in a better sense of smell. Then his eyes were touched by the stinging sensation as his vision went white. For a moment, Nathan thought he was blind as the wave was rewriting his eye color and sight, changing from blue eyes with fairly normal eyesight to a deep, velvety chocolate color and perfect sight, protected by thick dark eyebrows. All of a sudden, it was as if Nathan could see the world in high definition. The minimal details of his tanned skin on the back of his hand were clear; he could see the definition of his skin pores and the smallest grain of dust on the white tile beneath them. He would have screamed in surprise and joy if it weren’t for the wave moving on even further, engulfing his scalp and his dirty blonde hair, transforming them into wavy, almost curly black long ones after what a beard started to grow on his new masculine cheeks.

The stinging wave was finally done, and all of Nathan’s skin was now a natural golden tan, leaving him from a white Caucasian to a perfectly tanned Latino man.

Out of nowhere, as Nathan heard Luke laughing behind him, he found the strength to get up and pushed Luke against the tiled wall with his forearm against his neck.

“What have you done?! Turn me back! Now!” Nathan screamed in a menacing tone at what he thought was his best friend.

But all he heard in return was Luke laughing as he realized Abby wouldn’t be able to recognize Nathan’s new physical form. For a brief moment, Luke thought his problems were gone and he’d finally be able to be the main character of his life.

“It’s okay, bro. You might be angry right now, and it’s totally normal, but look at you—you have a perfectly muscled Latino body now. You literally look like a Mexican god. The world is yours, and you can have anyone, anyone except Abby, of course.” As Luke finished his sentence, he saw Nathan open his mouth with anger and tears of betrayal in his eyes. He looked at his best friend in the eyes and there he saw it—a shimmer of purple and emerald green light that turned some kind of light off inside Nathan’s brain.

As he was about to talk again, Nathan felt his strength leaving him. His grip on Luke weakened, his head started to spin, and he almost fell back on the ground if he hadn’t found support on the sink.

“Come on, bro, don’t try to trick me now. Look, I know it was maybe a bit too far, but look at your body. You should thank me, honestly. Have you seen your muscles?” said Luke in a genuine tone, not realizing Nathan was going through another transformation. After a couple of seconds, where Luke continued to explain how this could be a chance for Nathan, he realized he wasn’t getting any responses. Doubts began to rise in his mind as he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, “Bro, are you okay?” Luke felt fear rise in his heart as he saw Nathan’s head tilt in the mirror and noticed the same green and purple hue shimmer in his eyes' reflection. “What the fuck is that?” Luke thought loudly as he saw the shimmer disappear, leaving Nathan’s eyes lost and searching for answers. They didn’t know what was about to happen.

Nathan started to see flashes of memories in front of him: his parents, Abby, Luke and him in kindergarten, football games, his favorite movies. It was as if his life was flashing in front of him before being stuck in a distant place, still there but harder to reach, present but not as vivid as it had been. Nathan was slowly losing the grip of his reality as he realizes his body was getting harder and harder to control, he could feel his body gripping the sink and moving his head but was not able to control those actions. Then he heard it, a thick deep manly voice with a Latino accent in it.

“Is everything okay?” Luke asked again as he took a step closer to the sink.

"J-Javier," Nathan stammered in a low, almost inaudible tone, his voice now laced with a heavy Spanish accent. "My name is… Javier."

Luke felt a stab of guilt twist in his gut as he watched Nathan’s memories and identity slip away, replaced by the persona the potion was molding. "What are you talking about, Nathan? Don’t play with me,” said Luke as he took another step forward. But as Nathan tilted his head up, Luke saw the same purple and emerald green shimmer in the mirror reflection of Nathan’s eyes as it vanished once more. “Nathan, no… Stop playing with me, say something," Luke said again, with a concerned look.

Javier shook his head, still trembling from the lingering pain. "No… I’m Javier, I’m… your bro... Nathan… getting hard to control... Ja… I can’t fight… Javier’s stronger… I feel… everything… Help me… I…."

Luke’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the full extent of what he had done. Nathan was being erased from reality in favor of this new Javier identity—someone entirely different, molded by Luke’s subconscious desires and the power of the potion.

Luke tried to find a way to stop this, as he didn’t want it to go this far, but Javier was already stronger than what was left of Nathan’s mind, his new body fully formed. He felt a warm tingling around his crotch as the dust left from his previous attire started to agglomerate and create a floral swim short, the fabric barely containing his newly enlarged cock. The dust then moved around his neck and wrist as it turned into necklace and a bracelet before going on his right forearm where it agglomerated under his skin to form an intriguing tattoo design shimmering with purple and green before fading to a neutral black and grey. He looked at Luke with a mix of camaraderie and newfound confidence before scratching his balls and putting his cock in place and moved closer to Luke.

"Bro, I’ve gotta get back to work. Always nice meeting fans, even more when they are as sexy as you. Hope you enjoyed this moment as much as I did." Javier said, his accent thick and natural as he kissed tenderly Luke on the cheek and adjusted his thickening erection contained in his way to short shorts.

Before Luke could respond, Javier pushed open the door and stepped out of the bathroom into the bar. Instead of finding it busy with college guys drinking and cheering on a football match, Luke was assaulted by thumping bass, guys cheering, pulsating lights dancing on the walls, and what looked like a stage with a pole dance bar on it. Javier strutted onto the stage, the crowd cheering as he began to dance, his every movement a testament to his new identity.

Luke stood frozen in the bathroom, the weight of his actions crashing down on him. He had wanted to get rid of Nathan, but he hadn’t anticipated the cost: the loss of his friend and the creation of a new reality where Javier now existed in his place.

As he staggered out of the very busy club, a woman dressed in a sharp black suit appeared beside him with a martini glass in her hand, her eyes gleaming with unsettling wisdom.

"You did well," she said, her voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Javier will thrive here. He was made for this life."

Luke’s stomach churned with guilt and regret as he realized the woman was the one he had met at the bar, except this time she looked much younger than when they met the day before. "How is it possible? How are you so young?” Luke asked in a surprised and intrigued way. The women only took a sip of her glass with a faint smile and her skin started to glow before starting to tighten around her face. In a mere instant she looked a couple of years younger, now being in her early 40’s.

“You see,” she started to talk in a calm way, “if there is something you can’t stop, it’s time. But fortunately, I found plenty of years ago a way to buy some. You didn’t only force your best friend in an unwilling life, no… You gave me all the happy years he could have gotten. And let me tell you, they are … tasty!” she finished as she took another sip.

Luke realized that she wasn’t drinking martini but Nathan’s life force: “But… it wasn’t supposed to go this far. I wanted him to change in order to get Abby, not turn him into… this for you to take everything from him. You said all I had to do was think about what my heart desired. I didn’t want that; he is my best friend, and I’m not a monster. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I wanted him out of the picture, that’s all. Not erasing him from existence and my life."

The woman’s smile was cold, almost pitiful, as she began in a serious, very calm tone. "You got what you wanted, Luke. Nathan is not a problem anymore, and you are finally able to be with Abby. For the transformation, though, I never said Nathan would transform into what your heart desired. I said he would transform into what the master of the potion wanted, and you were never the master. It was me all along. And what I really needed was a new gay Latino Gogo dancer for my club. Now, thanks to you, Javier belongs to me. He will dance here, night after night, for as long as I wish. And you… you must live with the consequences of your actions. See? Everybody respected their promises. But I’m not a monster. Nathan is still alive; he just doesn’t have the game control anymore. Think of him like a VIP passenger on the cruise that is his life now."

Luke turned and looked back at the stage, where Javier was lost in the rhythm of the music as men of all ages were throwing money bills at him. His body moved with a confidence that had never been Nathan’s as he grabbed his tight swim short and started to remove it in front of everyone, letting his manly Latino cock out for everyone to enjoy the view. The reality of what Luke had done settled heavily in his chest.

As the woman turned to go back into her club, Luke grabbed her arm, desperation in his voice. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

She pulled her arm free with a calm, calculated grace. "I am the owner of this club. And this is how I recruit my dancers: through the greed, envy, and lust of men like you."

Luke’s eyes widened as the truth hit him. He had been manipulated, led down a path of destruction by his own darker impulses. And now, Nathan—no, Javier—was lost to him forever. As Luke was about to beg one more time for things to be returned to normal, he felt his phone in his pocket vibrate. As he took it out, he saw a picture of himself and Abby kissing on the beach. He opened the new message he had just received, only to read from Abby <3: “Where are you? It was movie night tonight. Did you forget? Come back, I miss you…”

Luke turned once again in the direction of the club and watched as the metallic door shut closed on the laughing woman before starting to morph into a thick brick wall, muting the music and the cheers of the customers. The club was gone forever, never to be seen again.

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

Hey everyone! As I mentioned before, I'll continue releasing new, refined versions of the stories I published before they were taken down.

I hope you enjoy this new version of Forbidden Love—I absolutely loved working on it.

As always, feel free to share your thoughts by sending me DMs or messages. Your likes and reports are much appreciated!

A big thank you to @tf-vigilante for helping with the pictures.

Let me know if you'd like a continuation of this story, or any of the others I've posted. Don't hesitate to send me your ideas—I always enjoy reading them, and I'll do my best to bring your vision to life.

Until then, take care of yourselves, and see you real soon with more new content! ;)

[deergravity]

Seeing as my internal rewards system has moved on to 'trans fiction' from 'queer horror audio drama podcast' I thought I should do a little roundup of everything I listened to the past few months.

A rough ranking:

Malevolent. Just squeaking into the top spot here based on 1) technical prowess (iykyk) 2) compelling characters and story and 3) they are my blorbos your honor!!! Mind boggling that Harlan Guthrie has so much chemistry with himself.

The Silt Verses. Only topped by Malevolent bc season 1 is not as polished, but it really doesn't matter. Top tier characters, amazing worldbuilding, intricate plotting and it had something to SAY about the casual violence of systems, the nature of hope, the complexity of being human in a world that tries to make us inhuman. Also, it doesn't rely on some thin recording contrivance (a framing device that has its place) and instead truly takes the mantle of audio drama without apology.

The White Vault. On the topic of framing devices, TWV has a very cool take on found footage recordings. A group of [researchers/archeologists] are sent to investigate a remote site in [Svalbard/Patagonia] and the podcast is structured as a documentarian presenting the notes, recordings and diary entries in a reconstructed timeline. My favorite element is that many of the characters don't make their notes in English, so the segments will often open with the VA speaking German, Spanish, Mandarin, Icelandic, Russian, etc etc before fading into the translation. There are miniseries between the seasons available on their patreon and they were so worth the $10 I paid to access them for a month. Reveals are slow, but worthwhile, and the mythology built for the show is highly original and intriguing.

Deviser. A one season contained story from Harlan Guthrie of Malevolent. Scifi, psychological, lots of wet awful body horror. If you're a fan of Harlan wimpering into a mic, you'll love this one.

WOE.BEGONE. Long, ongoing, and so so so far from the original premise it's hilarious, I'm ranking this higher than it maybe deserves for two factors 1) the creator and the VAs are clearly having a blast and 2) it's riding the line of taking itself serious despite a premise that invites irony poisoning without becoming too wrapped up in itself. It's fun, I think, that keeps w.bg strong.

The Magnus Archives. Should this be one up? Probably. But everyone bloody well knows tma by this point, it's good, great even! Beyoncé of horror podcasts.

I Am In Eskew. Only knocked down due to the actually godawful sound quality. Truly unsettling stories though (the one with the building architect haunts me) and a surprisingly realistic conclusion. You can see the bones of The Silt Verses here, from the same creative team.

The Magnus Protocol. Everything above this is there due to originality. As a sequel series, TMAGP will always suffer in that measure. However, I like our new cast and I do love an alternate reality. Curious to see where season 2 takes us. I'd like to kill Mr Bonzo in a fire.

The Inexplicables. Another one season story, this time from Rusty Quill, with really fun, flawed characters and no recording framing device!

Wolf 359. Storywise, great! Characters, excellent! Kicking it way to the bottom bc they just would NOT STOP referencing H***y P****r. Yes, Doug's characterization hangs on excessive reference humor, but that was one well I wish they'd left alone.

Red Valley. Knocked for HP references too (come ON british podcasters, do better) but more importantly for veering WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY too close to real life in season 3 onward. I was here for a horror sci fi story about cryogenics, not to listen to my worst climate disaster fears brought to life via hearing rich old sods try to buy their way out of consequences while the world burns and eco terrorism escalates. Too real. Not bad storytelling, just very much not fulfilling my escapism needs.

It's kinda crazy to me that anytime I mention this genre to normies in my life they say, "oh, like true crime podcasts?" And then I die inside. No dude, like radio drama. Like War of the Worlds.

Anyway, I'm off to get even less relatable by reading a zillion niche trans novels (hello Welcome to Dorley Hall, aka, what if there really was a 'trans cult' force femming dudes to undermine their masculinity? It's amazing how much yarn we can make by subverting the cis gaze.)

[little-pondhead]

Clockwork sneezed.

Then he paused. He never sneezes. He’s a ghost; ghosts don’t get sick. Not since he locked up the last Ghost Virus in his vaults. Why did he sneeze?

He sneezed again. Oh no, was that a headache coming on? His eyes felt tired and his skin was itchy. Was that a tickle in his throat?? Were those spots on his arm?? Shit, time to go check on his vaults to make sure nothing escaped. All hell would break loose if there was a ghost epidemic again.

Clockwork turns to leave the room, and in his haste, his scepter taps the very edge of a tall and thin grandfather clock he’d just been working on. The clock was made from a red-stained cottonwood he’d procured from the heart of Kansas many years ago, and it was gilded in delicate gold that shone with age and looked well-loved. Despite its height, the clock was a strong one, and didn’t tip over when the Ghost of Time bumped it.

It did, however, shift a few of the loose cogwheels inside. A few of them dropped out of the clock, and one even fell to the floor and rolled away. The ones that stayed inside rattled ominously for a moment before settling into their new spots. The clock kept ticking, but the time was off now. It skipped a few seconds, just enough for a listener to notice, before suddenly reversing the hour and minute hands.

Too bad there was nobody nearby to pay attention to the now-broken clock.

—

Danny was a strange boy. He knew that. Everyone in Amity knew that. Even his mentor, Clockwork, called him strange every once in a while. He liked being strange. It was fun being unpredictable. Having a Time Medallion stuck in his chest certainly helped in his shenanigans, since it meant he was technically separate from the time streams. He had pulled off more than one prank on his pseudo-grandfather by using this to his advantage.

Sometimes, however, Danny’s freedom from the time stream caused him more trouble than he thought it was worth. Like right now, for example.

He was simply at home, battling dinner with his sister while his parents were making a batch of fudge. Suddenly, Danny felt the time stream shift and writhe in a way he’d never felt before. He shivered and sneezed, thinking nothing of it. Clockwork made tiny adjustments all the time, there was nothing to worry about.

Except there was. When he opened his eyes, there was now a baby in his house.

One minute it was just him and Jazz at the table, the next, a baby in a red high chair was giggling and clapping along with Jazz as she tried to cut up the double-dead hotdogs into smaller bits for the child to eat.

The baby wasn’t a ghost, Danny knew. But when he looked around, evidence of a baby living in the Fenton house laid everywhere. The rocking chair in the living room now had a side table with two empty bottles on it. Pictures hanging in the hall had been changed to include the child. Toys were scattered around every corner, just waiting to be stepped on. Neither Jazz nor his parents had blinked at the sudden change.

In fact, Danny discovered, everyone in Amity Park seemed to think that this baby had always been with them. Even his best friends and rogues didn’t bat an eye! Danny was now a middle child, while everything else stayed the same.

But Danny knew. He knew something was wrong. This baby didn’t belong here.

He had to talk to Clockwork. He had to find out who this child was.

The child named Clark K. Fenton.

[marrkopolo]

A Wise Man Once Said

Precious lost its ring in the scrap yard with no metal detector the lavender pussywillows hide the trolls

Hong Kong wheel of fate UW spinned it first Knights of Templar slaughtered at a mass concert of bloody crimson tide

Tithe on a full moon for 2x the glee The crash of waves against the rocks, like bodies slapping against each other during sex blood shooting through veins Hot heat, sticky, in Iceland together I too, know of these lands

Tax season says the King! blue knots on a tent red food buckets hung like death #four crosses in a foreign land alone is no place to exist

An underwater welder lying on the blue tarp, is like a union of troops led by a zebra.

Flying flags at Disney welcome to the world of water failed regret, emptiness and betrayal tattered flags get left to rot sew it in with the others together and the quilt becomes strong and scintillating

Crush you with your own history headless horseman and halo hair dark horse donuts This is as good as it gets!

Red-lipped lipstick cracked porcelain face You can't hold a candle to this

King of the Hill My pool stick is clean now true Kings swim in the swimming pool together King of the Hill Jack of Spades went with the stolen crown and robots learn to volunteer.

Pledge to a sanitizer salute to a gong beat your chest it's loud and strong Love at first sight or sounds like a good idea Wisdom of the crowd or individual motivation?

A rabbi with the yachts Fortified lamps sees all UFOs, telekinesis and even explosive lingerie. One denarius for a days work Why they get more? Stand while another sits. Then switch roles and you'll see why.

What sees with three eyes? The melatonin-like parental bond, third eye awoken, Moksha.

Insane Luke has a scar red dots that kill. Baldie takes biosphere crown the bald animal is cutting loose again Is doraphilia still fun to you?

I attempt to transform but the tea is too strong my hands have small heart Lying down a tiny raindrop falls into my ear swirling into the cochlea My whole world has changed!

Eczema stealing make-up twice North Face go north Racks of weapons are not enough this time

My mask is old but gold bars had paved my fortunate path …a fortunate path(whispering)

Tik Tok vault one exit is enough The eagle has docked into spray-painted madness. Not to fret I hear a falcon cry Jump when the law is bent it will help you fly

Six shooter Six pack 3 sewers 3 fires Twin-spirit 1 spacesuit

Mountain top king of the hill climb Nepal Hajj pilgrimage princess climbs like a pirate piggyback down the wedding aisle

Opposites attract

One fell to its doom down the abyssal void towards the bottom and a ghost ship lost in the Bermuda Triangle with Pandoras Box Lazarus

Gunpowder in shoes Footprints in the sand Jesus did not tap

Short and tall fat and thin Lookalikes Soundalikes Smellalikes the hunt of touch and taste What double currencies create the ultimate Yin Yang effect? AI said to cure pride and competition, exchange abacus rubik-cubed calculators instead of cash.

Echoes and reverberation voices become lightning WATTS= AMPS X VOLTS

Float your payloads into the troposphere with skinny vertical structures of contained saltwater Heat a planet with a satellite asteroid belt

A call for help QR codes morse code gun flare smoke signal what are your coordinates? R-E-B-O-R-N

Some ancients say gunpowder only made flee then gun made to kill Oil spills from bronze age to silicon chips flood the market cut the mall castle cake in half Zangief on a segway You win.Perfect.

Lawrence Groves copyright©2024

[boytumms]

Part 1: A young man is sworn into a secretive holy order. "Now that you are bound to this oath, it is time for you to learn what we protect." He is led to a vault, deep beneath the monastery. The door is guarded and shut, but the elder slides open a slot so the initiate can peer inside - but he hears it before he sees it. Moaning. Crying. Emanating from... another young man? Except he's chained to a slanting stone, wrists and ankles shackled, clearly rubbed raw from constant thrashing. He might have been handsome, if not for the fact that his hair was disheveled and his face was twisted in a rictus of pain and misery. He was thin, scarily thin, in all places except one - his belly. This wasn't a gut swollen from hunger, but a tremendous sack of pained red flesh that hung all the way down to the floor, covered in ugly spider-web veins and furious stretch marks. And it was wrapped in chains, not iron like his shackles, but hallowed silver, gleaming in the torchlight. And something was moving inside that belly, something huge and strong, pushing this way and that, straining against the confines which bound it, both the chains and the boy's paper thin skin. And it was making a terrible noise, like a gurgling or a growling, a hateful sound emanating from within. Then, the slot shut and the elder demanded the neophyte's attention. "You must bury whatever sympathy you have for that poor boy. He has the unenviable fate of bearing armageddon: A monster that, had we allowed it to be born, would have ended the world. It is contained, but we must remain vigilant. So long as he carries that monster inside him, he will never age - and he must remain alive, or else that thing will find another host. It may seem cruel to keep him like this, for him to remain forever more a prison to that thing. But remember your vows. You have a duty to your brothers and sisters, and the world beyond these walls. If you love any of those things, then you must close your heart to his suffering. He will cry, he will howl, he will beg for just the slightest of accommodation. You must ignore those better angels. Because what you saw in there, inside his womb? Is the worst kind of devil you can imagine."

This is the original ask from the collab, I thought I'd just post it now that the full version is out :)

[dykepvppy]

Lucy maclean who is the best person you have ever met. You have survived in the wastelands for years and then you meet her. Her hand stopping you from hurting the man yelling at her. The way she frowns when you do something violent, Something deep inside of you turns. You want to change for her. Yet one of you must be strong to survive.

When the time comes you must leave her… so why does your heart ache when she touches your arm. It yearns for something that can’t be, that shouldn’t be but it feels so right. Just one kiss… right?

Time to say goodbye

Leaving her is hard, but she’ll wait for you

Lucy x f!reader (men dni)

“So it’s really it” you stood there holding onto your stomach. hoping Lucy would say something. But it was time to say goodbye, you and Lucy were exploring an abandoned building when raiders attacked you two. the raiders bullet hit you in the stomach making you slowly slide down the wall.

''shit..'' Lucy turned around and jogged towards you, crouching down to you level, her eyes scanning the wound, she didn't want you to die.. you two made plans of after finding her dad.. living together, surviving together but she sure as hell she isn't gonna live without you.

''fuck stay still'' the vault dweller huffed.

she tried to find some bandages, but there was none in the building, ''shit'' scrimmaging through the building the thought of you dying made her heart race more.. after all they been through.. thick and thin.. she was running out of time.. she hears you coughing and hissing in pain

"LUCY' you yelled out in pain, you were slowly losing yourself to the bleeding, ''lucy i-i cant' .

lucy found something that maybe can stop the bleeding.. as once she got back she saw you slowly losing yourself, she cant loose you SHE CANT

''hey hey stay with me'' Lucy rubbed your face softly.. your eyes shot up and looked at her.. ''lucy... I cant leave me here''

this shocked her, her eyes welled up in tears as she shook her head..she cant let the people she love die.. her hands slowly went to her face begging for you to stay alive.

watching you slowly struggle to keep fighting, the lips of hers crashed onto yours one last time the two of you had a long kiss before pulling back.

thats when she pulled always looking at you taking your last breathing, your body went limp.

It was the last time she saw you….

“I promise… I won’t forget you” she wipes her tears and headed out to the wasteland knowing she is alone now… without you…

[scarisd3ad]

In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader

summary - "But if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us and if they call me a slut, you know it might be worth it for once, and if I'm gonna be drunk might as well be drunk in love."

(A/N) - happy kind of late Valentine's Day lol, but here is a cute little fic based off of my favorite 1989 tv vault track.

Warnings - slut shaming, cursing, drinking

Masterlist

"Are you sure? I know you don't really like these kinds of things anymore," I say with a sigh. Steve and I are parked out in front of some random junior's house. Ever since Steve had graduated this May, he wasn't really in the party scene anymore. It might have been just because he was always busy working, or with the kids though, or maybe he wanted to leave his high school self behind. I was a year younger than Steve so I still being in high school wanted to party my senior year away before subsequently going to college next August.

I wanted him here for some type of protection from the men who frequented these parties. When I didn't have someone, I could claim as my 'boyfriend' they'd have their grimy little hands all over me. Luckily, this time I had my actual boyfriend. "it's fine," he whispers, grabbing my hand and giving it a little squeeze before removing the keys from the ignition and getting out of the car.

As we walk up to the front door, I can feel the chill in the air seeping through the thin fabric of the dress I'm wearing. The dress, which I thought would be perfect for the occasion, now seems like a poor choice, given the unforgiving October winds. I shiver uncontrollably as a strong gust of wind blows past us, sending my hair flying in all directions. The coldness of the wind is so biting that I almost regret leaving the house without a jacket.

Steve reaches out and grabs my hand as he pushes the front door open. As we approached the house, the booming sound of music and the constant buzz of voices could be heard from the outside. I could feel the beat of the music reverberating through my body as I made my way to the door. However, as soon as the door opened, the volume seemed to increase tenfold, making it difficult to hear anything else. The house was alive with energy, pulsing with the rhythm of the music and the excitement of the people inside.

The house seemed to be getting more and more crowded as we made our way further into the house. As we ventured deeper into the house, the once spacious and airy rooms gradually became cramped and stuffy. The air was thick with the scent of cheap booze, sex, and teenage sweat.

Although Steve had been gone from the hallways of Hawkins High for almost an entire semester Everyone still fawned over Steve Harrington the same way they had been for the past four years. sophomore girls, smile and wave as they send him flirty winks that are paired with a "hii Steve" which makes me roll my eyes each time, even freshman girls bat their eyelashes at him and wave shyly. god, sometimes I wished my boyfriend wasn't as popular as he was.

"Wasn't she with Eddie Munson last weekend?" I hear one girl ask as Steve and I pass by them. Luckily or unluckily, Steve stops to talk to one of his old basketball friends so I can hear the rest of their conversation. "No, no, that was the weekend before that last weekend she was with…what's his name fuck Sam…Samuel gives" The other girl, a brunette I recognized as a junior who was in p.e with me, says. The other one was a blonde that I don't particularly recognize but I knew I'd probably seen her around at least once laugh a big belly laugh before scoffing "fucking slut, didn't realize Steve was into those types of girls, especially after Nancy wheeler" it hurt but 'slut' was something most girls including me have been called more than once.

When I'm using my male friends as human shields at parties, I never thought about how other girls would think about me. It's not like I really cared anyway (I did). "Dresses like one too, who even thinks of wearing something like that" I looked down at my dress, maybe it was a little over the top, but there were other girls here dressed similarly in tiny dresses that barely covered their asses, most were shorter than mine. So why was I getting judged for my dress when Heather Blake was in the tiniest red dress I've ever seen as she was grinding up against Daren Russel?

"When I was getting dressed earlier, I thought the dress looked cute. It was smaller than what I usually wear, and I was a bit scared that I might draw more attention to myself than I'd like. But I thought, "if I'm all dressed up, they might as well be looking at us". But now, after being called a slut, I was rethinking that mindset. "Hey Stevie, I'm gonna go get a drink kay?" he nods. "Yeah hon, can you get me a beer?" I hum quietly as I nod before walking off towards the kitchen.

There are a few girls, freshmen, who are taking shot after shot. Their boyfriends must have been seniors because normally freshmen aren't invited to parties like this. "Hey, can I have some of that?" I ask. All three girls are hammered, slurring out their words and stumbling around, "Y-yeahhh girl hereeee!" one shouts over the music as she hands me a prefilled disposable shot glass. The liquid inside is clear, making me assume it's vodka. I might as well be drunk if I was going to be overthinking those girls' conversation the entire night. I lean my head back as I take the shot, letting it burn down the back of my throat.

The three girls are giggling as the middle one, who is way smaller than me in height and weight, boldy downs two shots in a row before shouting "Wooooo!!!" which makes me internally cringe for her. "Hey, can I have another?"

7 shots in and I'm drunk as a motherfucker. The three girls had since gone, mumbling a quiet excuse about how all three of their mothers were going to be pissed in. They didn't get the littlest sobered up fast. So that left me with about half a bottle of vodka.

"Hey baby, thought you were bringing me a beer" Two familiar arms wrap around my torso which makes me drunkenly smile and turn around in his arms. "I wa-wasss," I slurred as I leaned my head against his shoulder, "but got distr-distracted," I said with a giggle. Steve sighs softly as he takes my face in his hands "You're drunk honey" I roll my eyes playfully giggling a quiet "duhhh" his thumb caresses my cheek as his eyes fall behind me at the empty shot glasses and now about quarter-filled vodka bottle. "Shit, honey, how much was in that bottle? " I shrugged as I watched the two girls who had been talking about me earlier walk into the kitchen, both giggling as they looked me up and down.

I frown as I look up into his big brown eyes, which are filled with concern. "Am I a slut?" I whispered softly. Despite my best efforts to not let those girls' words get to me; they had been unknowingly eating away at me all night. "What? who…who told you that? Why the fu-" I shrug as my bottom lip pops out in a pout. "Honey, you're not a slut. And if you were, I wouldn't care because as long as you're my girl, I'll be the happiest man alive. " If I'm gonna be drunk, might as well be drunk in love.

[throneofsapphics]

beltane morning

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: The one day Aelin rises before both you and Rowan.

Warnings: None

A/N: a drabble, no plot only vibes

“Good morning,” she chirps in your ear, yanking both blankets off you. You groan as the cool air hits you. “It’s burning out,” you can hear her frown, “I don’t know why you need that.” You ignore her and roll back over, shoving a spare pillow over your face. 

“Why are you up so early?” The words come out muffled. 

“Because…” She cooes, expecting you to realize. You flop on your back with a huff. Beltane, how did you forget? Especially with her reminding you every hour for the last few weeks. 

Aelin’s absolute favorite holiday. Despite the early hour, despite the slight annoyance you feel, a smile creeps on to your face. It grows even bigger when you hear her start to berate Rowan. It’s a rare day when she’s up before both of you. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, tugging you into a warm body. “Maybe if we stick together she’ll let us sleep a little longer.” you whisper to Rowan as you hear her footsteps pad away. You get a sleepy grunt in return, and take that as a yes. 

Fat chance. A bucket of icy water douses both of you and you rise with a shriek. The thin fabric of your slightly sheer nightdress is soaked and sticking to your skin. You vault off the bed, over Rowan’s body, chasing the golden haired female holding a bucket in her hands. 

Your feet skid across the floor, your arms whirling to try and catch yourself before you fall. Arms wrap beneath yours, pulling you upright. You squeeze Aelin as tightly as you can, pulling her towards you. It takes her a second to realize what you’re doing, but by then she’s soaked as well. Laughter stars bubbling in your chest at how utterly ridiculous this is, before you turn your head over your shoulder. 

Rowan turns over, his back facing both of you. Apparently you took the brunt of the flood. A finger taps your cheek, and turquoise and gold eyes meet your own. A gleam of understanding passes through both of your eyes before Aelin silently counts down, 

Three. Two. One. You both launch yourselves at Rowan. 

[melodiousmonsters]

"Wubbox (Divina Mechana) average around 22ft/6.7m tall. The Wubbox are mysterious monsters that were discovered in an underground vault between all the natural island’s locations. There was one already activated named Wub. It seemed to know a lot about its species and was fairly happy to give out certain information, but would clam up at other requests like asking who made them or what their purpose is.

They are activated by placing living single elemental eggs into specially made cavities in the interior of their boxed form. Once that is done they activate. They start off able to talk and do basic things but they have virtually no personality like a hatchling. After a few days it starts to rapidly mature and starts acting more like an adult monster. They’ll start messing around with their environment and running experiments on things they are curious about.

Wubbox are made of an alloy of brass and bubblerite called steptanium. It’s a strong substance with a plastic-y finish that’s outstandingly conductive, the extent of said conductivity would not be elaborated on. Steptanium can also shrink and grow and “dissolve into pure energy” which allows for the Wubbox to box up. A thin enough plating of another metal or other substance can be put over steptanium without interfering with its properties. That information was asked for by another Wubbox named Machin who wanted to paint itself pink. Wubbox like to customize themselves, except for Wub, it says that it’s for “sentimental purposes”.

Wubbox are made up of four main parts, the head, body, arms, and legs. The head has a mouth, eyes, and a base. The base holds the eyes in cups and the mouth is attached at the front. On the back of the base is a button that allegedly (thanks Wub for the information) causes the Wubbox to box involuntarily, I say allegedly because none of them will let me test it on them.

The body is a cage that surrounds their core. Their core is the power source of the Wubbox and holds their consciousness. It has a rubbery texture and is incredibly sturdy. It can squish a lot without breaking.

The limbs are very basic other than the fact they have perfectly safe exposed electrical currents running through them. The electricity has been manipulated to only flow through special disks that their limbs are made of. Even if you touch the disks right where the electricity hits them it still won’t shock you as you are not the disk so the electricity can’t flow into you. The forearms and feet also have the same properties of the disks except that they can be replaced with anything, it’s a mystery how that works, but it does."

To expand on the customization, a Wubbox can do a lot to themselves as long as they keep their basic body plan and primarily steptanium composition. I have only one example as i have been very busy as of recent (I'm on vacation and will be for every summer), it's the water island Wubbox (there's one wubbox per natural island not including Wub, making 6 Wubbox total) an it doesn't have a name yet as usual for the more individual monsters.

As for variants, well at least at the time this was made in universe Wubboxes didn't have variants, customizing themselves doesn't fundamentally change them as monsters so those aren't counted as variants. The epic Wubbox do exist but are too integral to how important things work in the monster world so I can't talk about them yet.

I'm going to probably switch to doing one of these every two weeks instead so I can put more time into them as I haven't been too happy with the quality of the recent ones. Also there isn't a lot here because it's Wubbox, they're lore important. I also changed out the egg waking up mechanic from the monster boxing because 1. the wublins don't use the egg mechanic anymore they just get shocked, and 2. there are only very small populations of monsters in the contemporary monster world in this au so boxing monsters would decimate the population.

[strqyr]

cinder: aren't you perceptive. raven: it's what's kept me alive. cinder: i'm afraid the only reason you're still alive is because you have something our master wants. of course, if i'm wrong... [...] cinder: raven, i won't underestimate you, so please don't insult my intelligence. there is a slim chance you and your maiden could escape today, but if you know our master as well as you claim to, then you know you could never truly escape her. but we come bearing an olive branch.

oh what i would give to see this flipped. since just about they first interacted on screen, salem's patience with cinder has been running thin, but she also needs cinder to open the vault to get her what she wants. if not for that, if salem had another candidate to be her vessel for maiden powers, would cinder have lasted as long as she has?

(is the only reason she's still alive because she holds the key to what her master wants.)

and cinder, with her grimm arm, having seen it grow back and react to salem's return, knows, deep down if nothing else—"please don't insult my intelligence."—, that she could never truly escape salem.

she might be able to pretend that this is not the case yet, that she can still have the upper hand, can still escape like she did the glass unicorn. . . but if someone were to lay it out like this, in her own words. . . is there really anywhere to hide?

it's not like it hasn't happened before:

"you know, i've heard so many stories about you, raven. they say you're a cunning leader, that you're strong, that you're clever." -> "if you were stronger or more clever, then maybe... you'd remember to watch your back."

all that's left is the olive branch.

[warsamongthestars]

Back on my bullshit.

I've got a lot of questions, on how the TBBshow works exactly?

Cos yeah, its been clear for a long time, it doesn't want you asking questions because it will just, fall apart at the seams and go from Frankestein's monster to Frankenstein's ground floor beef.

Like, basic shit. Here's the Plot breaking questions:

HOW DID THEY RECRUIT STORMTROOPERS SO FAST? If they could just, recruit people out of the blue like that, like, Immediately Post-War side, not even 24 hours after the destruction of the Jedi Temple. Where the did they come from? And if they could just, come in like that, why weren't there any natborn armies during the Clone Wars itself? Recruitment takes a long time. Boot camps, at minimum, take 3 months real world. So, Plot Hole 1: Spawning Stormtroopers with Cheat Codes.

WHY DIDN'T THE CLONE ARMY REBEL? If the argument is, that the chip just Wears off, and we know that our troops can and will just rebel against bad officers (We've seen it happen), and that they all do have a pretty strong moral backbone in general... ... How come when this, so called "Wear off" occurred, we didn't see a rebellion enmass? Especially after Kamino's destruction? Still can't recruit and train people that fast, and there's still an entire clone army, and its pretty clear that the show claims there are lots of clones in the ranks and hiearchy... Clearly, it must not just "Wear Off". Plot Hole 2: Attempting to claim that established Sci-Fi Brain Tumors isn't Sci-Fi Cancerous.

WHY IS EVERYTHING EVERWHERE ELSE? Where is Cody? What's going on with Rex and his Rebellion? Why did Echo join that exactly, and how come the Batch couldn't be convinced? Why the fuck is Ventress even There. The story (and its writers) keep wanting to push that "Everything is going to occur at a later time". Well, mothers and fuckers of the audience, if Star Wars were to end tomorrow, like full on Vault Sealed Forever, or nobody has access to these "other stories" either by money or medium--then no, the Story didn't happen somewhere else--it simply Didn't Happen at all. Thus, teasing stories that simply Aren't, and refusing to fill in the story that Is. Plot Hole 3: The Excitement is Farther than the Galaxy Far Far Away

PABU The Empire knows about Pabu, it bombed it for the sake of the Force. You tellin' me that, after Tantis was done, Pabu just magically regerated with anti-Evil Empire shields? And that it wasn't immediately placed under Imperial control like EVERY PLANET TBB HAS ESTABLISHED SO FAR!? Plot Hole 4: You don't need to see their identification, this is not the planet you are looking for.

EMERIE KARR I like her concept, so I'm gonna be picking on her execution. So female clone that is effectively a narrative clone of Omega, except if Emerie existed at the same time as the Bad Batch (likely as its hinted 5th member) and the Clone Wars, as we're supposedly meant to believe that Omega did--how come Omega didn't know about her before. Where the fuck was she. Why would Hemlock be finding a random clone in nowhere space and decide that she was sexy enough to be the sexy lady evil scientist? Her concept is great, but current execution breaks the timeline. Plot Hole 5: Omega split into Omega 2 by Mitosis

HOW ARE THEY BROTHERS EXACTLY? How are our Main Characters brothers? I don't mean in the literal sense, I mean in the sense of "These guys are brothers in arms thick and thin, been through so much shit and came together in support in the face of adversity" And yet, the only thing we see is, bickering, no conversations, refusal to confront topics that directly affect them with each other, obsessing about anything else but actually talking to each other, abandoning each other at a moment's notice for one bullshit thing after another without discussion. Utterly ignoring each other when lives are on the line... Leaving one for Dead... Claiming that they're trying to protect their child sister in order to give her a place to grow up, but insist on bringing her on every dangerous mission ever, treating her as a child soldier... ... When they could've just robbed the stupid lizard bitch and been on that isolated planet they were talking about in Episode 2 before the end of Season 1. After a certain point, I think I should be calling The Galactic Child Protective Services Plot Hole 6: With Brothers like these, who needs enemies?

KILLING A MAIN CHARACTER (Aka "oh my gods they killed Kenny") In congruent to the above Plot Hole. They killed Tech, where's the fallout? Where's the effect? Are you telling me that Mayday, a random one episode clone, was more narratively important than Tech, who's been with us for years? And that's just the written death. The narrative deaths have occurred to all the Bad Batch. this bad ass squad who works together like instinct, is suddenly failing at everything, like its their first day off Kamino. Even though, by the show's own visual environmental storytelling, the Batch have been performing missions together since the first battle of Geonosis. They're more experienced than the Republic Commandos by those tally mark counts in their room wall. And yet, inspite of the visual story telling and the Clone Wars, and every piece of Clone Media prior to this Ever, they're suddenly the big bumbling buffkins who can't operate without running headfirst into the nearest beehive. Character deaths themselves occured... ... From Hunter being a generally snarky, one of the guys, who puts on a show of leadership for the Reg's sake--because a shallowed out parody of Optimus Prime and Captain Rex. ... To Crosshair, a snippy, keen if cruel sniper but with a heart of empathy, reduced to a hyper soldier even without the tumor. When this is the kind of man who would pick a fight with god on toothpick power alone. ... To Wrecker, whom for some reason, suddenly lacks skills he had in the Clone Wars. ... To Tech, who no longer gives out fun facts, or even has an emotional reaction to people getting hurt, like he used to in his first introductory episodes. (Remember the horror he had when he realized the Algorithm had a Human voice?) ... To Echo, once bold and audactious, guised beyind a clone who is a seeming rule stickler--now a bitchy side piece who eventually just leaves instead of having a conversation with the very team that took him in, who reduced his once partner-batchmte Fives to a foot note. One story written death, Five Narrative Deaths, Five Character Deaths, because what was had in the Clone Wars--of which the TBBshow explicitly says its a direct sequel to--clearly wasn't here when this started. Whoever these guys are, they aren't the Bad Batch. Plot Hole 7: Fell at Sunrise and Was replaced by Mirrors

PLOT HOLE: the Rush A special mention plot hole that occurs when you place too much action in too short of time with too little thought. Effectively attempting to turn a TV show, subscription serivce or not, into a 25 minute long tiktok-vine-ytshort. Its exhausting, its Patience killing, it has no Pace; and to believe that this is a good thing, means that you are Also affected by the Rush and should probably pick up a real book or maybe play Pokemon Generation 1 or pick up a text adventure, because you are going too fast for your brain to handle it and it is not good for you. Its commercialism techniques. Don't make them the new norm.

If I've missed any plot holes, lemme know, I'll take a look. Even with my SPECIAL EYES (MY BRAND!) I can't spot everything.

[alexatheris-44]

Grave Lord, Drenched in Blood

Technically Part 2 to this amazing piece by my awesome homie @voidwritesstuff :DD

-

CW: lil bit of blood, description of body horror

Summary: Creation has its Four Horsemen, but the Pale Rider carries the name of Ataraxy… Where is Death? And what company could he possibly be keeping?

> Made for the Against Creation AU !! It’s probably a good idea that you’ve read Darksiders The Abomination Vault before this, not for spoiler reasons (yet) but for more insight on Death’s history. You won’t be missing any important context if you haven’t though :3 (yet)

vvvv Start Reading Below The GIF! :D vvvv

He was there long before the beginning.

From the moment there was light to cast brightness, shadows danced at the edge of all things; a clinging spectre that sowed naught but pain and misery. For all who found their end alone and in the dark, the cruel nature of life to be taken sooner than was ever planned. The restlessness, those brief moments of such despair, felt as the final weight of all that was to be -now to be left undone- bears itself in full upon the soul. The heartache, the bitterness, the loss…

If she was the gentle end of Life, he was the After.

Age did nothing to weather his battle hardened visage, his severity reflected in every line on his face, every crease in his skin. While his face wore his horrid mask -hiding his prominent facial features save for his hollowed cheeks, invoking the imagery of a glowering skull but lacking any mouth or teeth- his permanent scowl was unmissable. He held himself with such certainty, an almost palpable sense of strength. If not visible by his composure then in the sculpted definition of his muscles, only further defined by how taut his skin -the very hue of undeath- stretched over his pronounced frame. He was thin yet indisputably strong, sinewy but long since his last meal. One could mistake him for a living corpse, the reanimated body of a most ancient and formidable warrior now haunting the halls of some lesser lord’s castle he had since painted in their blood.

And yet Death very much still lived in vigor, despite whatever rumours tended to flit about between each corner of Creation. Something about how only four remained of the warmongering race known as the Nephilim; how they rode under the new title of Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and committed a genocide of their own people. He remembered the massacre all too well, scarred into the very archives of his unending memory. The smell of it, the vile taste to the air -simultaneously acrid smoke, bile and blood. Death was rather more familiar than most with the sight of gore, but to know he once called those eviscerated corpses his kin… his brothers…

“Anathem!” Death’s voice barked from his throat under a growl, his hand clenching into a white-knuckled fist against the dark stone table he hunched over.

A sound of stirring came from the shadows of the corridor before him, the scraping of metal against rock following a light-weighted thump, as if something had fallen from the rafters. An odd pattern of footsteps began approaching from the dark; one step carrying the clicking of claws against solid ground, the other just a muffled tap, as if bare, easily missed unless actively listening for it. The reason for this unique footfall became quickly apparent as the individual entered visibility, though their appearance would only call for more questions. His left leg sported the structure and talons of a raptor or bird of prey, while his right appeared much more porcine. This mismatching of limbs also applied to his arms: the left as much flesh as it was bone, sporting spaces in the palm as if a cartilaginous web leading to angular fingers; the right sporting only four spindly fingers that each ended in an elongated claw, thumb and pinky roughly at the same height in their placement on his chitinous hand. In a universe teeming with abnormality -life running rampant to craft itself in nearly every shape, size and colour- it was clear to any whose eyes fell upon this being that this was an abomination, something once -perhaps- born but since unmade. Short and slender horns grew above an otherwise plain humanoid face, unlike any demon ever perceived. He was a patchwork of stolen flesh, so much so that his scars were hardly distinguishable between surgical in origin and a hard lesson learned in lethal combat. Looking at him prolongedly instilled a sense of unease, stirring thoughts of dread at ever meeting whoever so cruelly crafted and carved him into this blasphemous form.

“You called?” Anathem’s voice croaked as he rolled the words from his yet unfamiliar tongue, his most recent bodily acquisition. Death had assured him the tongue of the demon polyglot would give him its proficiency in the infernal languages, and while that proved to be true for the moment it felt as if an unwieldy serpent whipped about inside his mouth when he tried speaking in his native language.

“Tell me there has been a development from our latest endeavour.” The frustration the Nephilim presently felt laced his gravelly tone in a misdirected reproach, as if his current company held any blame to their situation.

“I grow tired of all this inaction.”

Death’s ire was a difficult thing to earn, usually so cold and calculated it would take a true and continuous push of his buttons to evoke the flames of his wrath. And oh how brightly it burned in his fiery orange eyes, twin stars in the midst of collapse for eternity. Despite being the centerpiece upon which fell the Firstborn’s glare, Anathem merely shrugged.

“I only just came back from my visit to Hell's Underground.” The roll of his shoulders disturbed the peace of the ghostly green chains anchored into his shoulder blades, each heavy link rattling only once against one another all the way down to the thick cuffs shackled at either wrist.

“I’d say another day at the most before I hear back. After all, we are hoping for discretion.”

Death’s eyes narrowed sharply, near warning, though Anathem knew him well enough to stand where most others would cower and fold to their knees. The Nephilim let free a hiss of breath as he straightened, a rare moment to revel in his full and towering height -nearly a metre taller than Anathem even if the shorter were to stand on the tips of his mismatched toes- before comfortably slumping his shoulders, clearly making the effort to calm his temper.

“I trust that the message was clear? We have no room for ambiguity.” His tone was now much cooler, near icy if not for the faintest hint of a cruel mirth.

“The severed head of their leader is a hard thing to misinterpret.” As fluidly as a languid housecat, Anathem closed the distance between them and brought himself up on the dark stone table, stepping to its edge to take perch before the Nephilim at eye level.

“As well as their matron’s, just in case.”

“A fine touch,” Death let slip a chuckle. His eyes snagged to the tear in the cloth wrapped around Anathem’s abdomen just below his ribs, something the creature likely would've tried to conceal had he even noticed. Death’s eyes turned sharp again as he grabbed nearly the entirety of Anathem’s waist in a single hand, a finger forcing the fabric to reveal the ugly gash hidden beneath.

“And what is this?”

“A Hellion snuck up on me, must’ve been reckless.”

“You are not meant to be reckless. You are meant to be untouchable, that is how I made you.”

Anathem hissed as Death prodded the wound, a fresh trickle of inky blood oozing from under the weak scab.

“Yet I lived with hardly a scratch,” he stared back into Death’s infernal glare with such an unshaken resolve, his pupils a golden marble completely still despite swimming in the deep-red bloodshot of his eyes.

“As you’ve taught me.”

His fingers raised to brush against Death’s arm, in the best way his inhuman limb could deliver a caress. His fresh bleed had dried about as quickly as it began, once more closing the wound that it may heal into a new scar adorning his pallid flesh. While the manacle at his wrist pressed coldly against Death’s equally chilled skin the chains themselves posed no obstacle or obstruction, their arcane nature merely phasing through any limb or object in the way of their wearer’s intent. Death’s grip lessened only slightly, not yet satisfied to release him just yet.

“I trust this misstep will not be repeated,” he warned, his hold relinquishing the site of injury to reestablish higher against his ribs. His thumb brushed against the scarline of Anathem’s pectorals as he leaned in. Anathem was now cast in Death’s shadow, the warm candlefire of his eyes a beacon in the dark of his sunken eyes and the protruding sockets of his mask.

“Lest I level the Hells before Heaven ever gets the chance.”

Anathem lolled out his pitch black tongue, only to then flick it at the point of the mask’s absent nose. Death practically tore Anathem from the table, pressing himself firmly against the smaller being, feeling his ally’s legs instinctively hook around his midriff. The rattle of the spectral chains played their tune as Anathem weaved his claws in Death’s impossibly black hair, his Frankenstein’s monster of a body ready to take on Death in any form, in all his brutality, and stand all the taller after.

As if an objection sounded by the will of the Universe itself, a shrill cawwing pierced the air in interruption. The sound forewarned the sudden arrival of a large crow beelining to deliver urgent news to its master.

“Finally,” Death’s voice slithered under his breath, eyes tearing away from the being in his grasp to follow the flight of Dust.

“Another time then?” Anathem began to draw away but Death’s iron grip held him in place, his other hand catching Anathem’s thigh to pull it back up over his hip.

“They toyed with my patience, they can be made to wait.” The Nephilim’s rasp rumbled low in his chest -a dark purring- as he bent forward, resting Anathem’s back to the table below. Death could be made to be patient, but only on his own terms. He would not wait for anything nor anyone, had the power and drive to bend the world to his will. Anathem smiled, dusked fingers curling around the edges of the bone mask adorning his lover’s face.

“We will unmake the Balance yet.”