#when he had to construct a plan of wiping the humanity out

[risuola]

You are the teacher and it so happens, that one day two little twins join your classes in the midst of the year. You heard before their arrival that they are odd and older teachers have been talking that their father is exceptionally young for a parent. And truth is, Suguru wasn't a fan of the idea of giving the girls under the care of a monkey, to have them share spaces and learn among the monkeys, but he was responsible enough to believe that education is something Mimiko and Nanako can benefit from. And if something wrong happens, he'll just—

[sunnybeewriting]

peachy keen.

Hi guys! So I'm pretty new to writing and this is actually the biggest thing I’ve ever written. I watched The Way of Water when it came out and took an immediate interest in this guy, partially because I thought his character has a lot of potential, and partially because I also thought that he was really hot.

So I decided to set up a series of little works. This one is just sort of a beginning to the Reader’s character and Quaritch, and I do plan on writing more about them in the future with this fic as their base. Maybe do some AU’s, maybe just continue the story from here, maybe lead into the movie, who knows!

That all said, I really, really hope you like it! If you do, please give it a like or a comment!

WORDS: 15,000

WARNINGS: Adult themes and language

peachy keen. Part Two.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Your body jerks to a stop just before you can fully trip over your shoelace and faceplant onto the floor. Unfortunately, the leftover food on your plate could not say the same, jostled just enough that it went flying from your hands and onto the tiled floor of the mess hall.

You lean down quickly to clean it up, scooping the food with your fingers and back onto the plate as best you can. You succeed only halfway, goop just smearing across the floor and onto your hand.

You stare at the mess you made, ears and cheeks burning as you hear snickers of cruel amusement coming from some military meatheads a few feet behind you.

You jump up quickly, making sure to avoid your shoelace so you don’t trip on it again and embarrass yourself any further. You hurry to the counter holding the utensils, mugs, and paper towels, tugging several brown napkins out of the dispenser sitting on top. You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Kneeling down so soon after sleeping for six years in a cyropod made the muscles in your legs and shoulders ache, but you do it anyways. You wipe up the mess as best you can, piling the dirty napkins onto the plate and dumping it all into a nearby trashcan. You wish the ground would swallow you up.

You aren’t usually so embarrassed by such a small mistake, but it had been a rough past couple of days for you. You had landed at Bridgehead City just a few days ago, and you had felt immediately overwhelmed by the extreme size of the fortress.

It took the RDA fifteen years to return to Pandora, but when they did, they made sure to put in roots. Bridgehead City was an enormous structure, constantly building upon itself and hosting thousands of military combatants, engineers, skel suits, construction robots, anything that was thought of to build and maintain humanity’s last stronghold. Every person of every imagined career was here, working as one like bees and ants had once done for their queens a hundred years ago, before they had both gone extinct. 

Bridgehead was terrifying to look at for the first time, seeing in person exactly how far humanity was willing to go to force itself onto another planet. You had noticed that it almost looked like a parasite, contrasting in color and material against the lively, glowing rainforest that surrounded it just past the barren land of the Kill Zone.

The wave of information that hit you the moment you stepped off the ship was almost enough to make your excitement to be on Pandora wither and die, but you held onto it with shaky, desperate hands.

Luckily for you, it wasn’t long before your enthusiasm bounced back and you met your new colleagues. Most of them had been just as nervous as you, clearly uncertain and overwhelmed. Knowing you weren’t alone made you relax just slightly. They were scientists hand-picked by the RDA as test subjects for re-opening the Avatar program, just like you.

None of you were really sure why the program had been stopped in the first place. The RDA was very quiet about what had happened all those years ago, when most of their military and scientists had been sent fleeing from Pandora with nothing but the clothes on their backs and tails between their legs. They refused to issue many statements, insisting that a minor misunderstanding had occurred with the ‘natives’ of the planet, and they’d be back soon enough to continue their mission.

The RDA had stated that the main reason for discounting the Avatar program was because the cost outweighed any benefit. The only reason they were allowing a few lucky souls to come to Pandora as Avatars was simply as a favor to the scientific community, and as a test to see if the Avatar program should be reinstated. Now the main purpose behind the program is to see if it’s worth it for people to be able to travel around Pandora without having to worry about the environmental protection systems, than a way to make peace with the Na’vi.

Most of the scientists in the base were only allowed restricted access to information regarding the past and current situation with the Na’vi, only knowing that The People were no longer accepting of humans on their planet and that the military is now on constant high alert. Most of the remaining records were classified to you, although you did try to learn as much as you could about what was happening on Pandora. Unfortunately, the RDA was very strict with that information, and you never found anything that mentioned the Na’vi or what happened fifteen years ago.  

The ten members of the new Avatar program had been divided into two parts of five, just to make the introductions and sessions easier. You had met your three new acquaintances, eager to make some friends. They had introduced themselves; Emma, a small, shy woman who preferred observing rather than participating; James, a sweet, handsome young man; and David, an older man in his late fifties who seemed a bit too haughty for his own good.

Your group was shown to your individual rooms over on the west side of Bridgehead, far away from the landing pads and ships you had arrived on. Your new room was small and gray with concrete walls and a thin layering of carpet covering the cold floors. You had a small desk that sat underneath a suction-locked window that let you glimpse into an enclosure full of construction robots, but at least the light it let in was nice. There was a simple cot in the corner and a mirror as the only piece of décor on the walls, but it was yours, a place you could call your own.

You had grinned tiredly and fallen face down on your bed without bothering to take off your shoes. You slept for fourteen hours, and when you awoke you felt as though you were rising from the dead, hair wild and mouth fuzzy. After you brushed your teeth, showered, got dressed in clean clothes, and ate food for the first time in six years, you felt like a brand-new person.

And here you are now, in the mess hall, already making a fool of yourself on your second week.

You quickly rush back to your table and plop your behind into the seat you had vacated to throw away your plate, sitting across from Emma and David. Emma is poking at her food, face pale and gloomy. David is almost done with his own dinner, glasses perched on his nose as he reads from a holotablet.

Geesh. These guys certainly weren’t known for being the life of the party back home.

Maybe they just need some more time to adjust? I know I certainly fucking do.

You take a moment to bend down and tie your shoelace, double knotting it, not wanting to cause any more scenes.

When you sit back up in your chair and make eye contact with Emma, your lopsided, embarrassed smile falls from your face when she simply stares back at you, clearly uneasy for some reason you can’t name.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking clumsy. And why the fuck does it look like you’re all attending a funeral over here?” The voice that chimes up behind you lifts your mood exponentially, and you turn around in your seat to greet the approaching form of the last member of your group and your best friend with a happy grin.

You had met Margot a few months before your trip to Pandora when you both attended a required conference that would discuss certain parts of living in Bridgehead. The second you struck up a conversation with her, it was like meeting your long-lost sister. You had instantly clicked, getting on like a house on fire and scarcely spending a day away from each other.

James arrives at the table with her, holding his own plate. He gives you a comforting look, clearly sympathetic to your embarrassment.

“Hey Margot, James! You saw that, huh?” you ask sheepishly, shoulders raising to your ears as you feel a hot flash of mortification all over again.

“Uh, yeah, honey, I saw. I’m pretty sure half the cafeteria watched you nearly eat shit. You need to learn to tie your shoes better, babe.” Margot’s voice is just as loud as ever, and her bright blonde hair and tall figure aren’t exactly subtle, either.

She was the type of person to grab someone’s attention and refuse to let it go, manicured nails digging in deep. Well, her nails used to be manicured. Now they were just as plain as everyone else’s.

She takes a seat in the empty chair next to you, setting her own plate down with a clatter. She untucks her cheap silverware from the napkin and digs into her dinner, eating hurriedly like someone is about to snatch the plate away from her. You had once asked her why she never slowed down to enjoy her food, and she said that with eight siblings if you wanted any food, you needed to eat it like an animal.  

James takes the other empty seat next to you, patting your shoulder twice before saying, “It’s okay, I don’t think that many people saw.”

You smile weakly at his attempt to make you feel better. It doesn’t help much, but you appreciate the thought, “Thanks, James.”

He nods and moves his attention to his plate.

Your table is silent for a few moments, everyone lost in their own thoughts and tasks.

You break the silence when you nervously ask, “So. Anybody else freaking out at the thought of linking up for the first time or is it just me?”

David looks up, paying attention to your words for the first time since you met him. “Well, I’m not nervous because I did all the pre-linking sessions and training years ago.” His nose is practically raised in the air.

You stare at him.

What a fucking douchebag. Who answers a question like that?

“That’s nice. What about you, Emma, are you nervous or excited? How are you feeling?” you ask gingerly, wanting to include her in the conversation. It would be nice to have another friend so that the next few years weren’t miserable.

Emma stares at you blankly, and then whispers a simple, “No.”

You lean back in your seat and deflate. “Oh.”

Fuck it, I tried.

Margot, the smug bitch, is watching you drown in social awkwardness as she happily munches away. You give her a look and a shrug, and she rolls her eyes before placing her fork down on the table. She dabs the corner of her mouth with her napkin, and then says to Emma, “Girl, I absolutely love that bracelet you’re wearing. Where did you get it?”

To your surprise, Emma perks up in her seat, right hand grazing the bracelet she wore on her left wrist. Her face softens, and she says, “It was my mom’s, actually.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Right?” Margot jabs her sharp elbow into your side, and you hiss but nod hurriedly.

“Yes, that is so sweet! I wear my mom’s wedding ring, actually.” You rub said ring with your hand. Your mood drops a little bit at the mention of your mother, but you shake your head to get back on track. “Makes me feel closer to her, I suppose.”

A small smile pulls on Emma’s cheeks, and she looks down, still rubbing the bracelet. “Yeah.”

You look at her, reconsidering your thoughts about her personality. 

Maybe it just takes a little time to connect, that’s all.

You fiddle with the small, emerald cut ring that you were on the ring finger of your right hand. It had been a piece of jewelry your mother had worn faithfully until the day she died.

When you were a child, around ten or eleven years old, you had asked her why your dad had chosen that specific ring to represent their marriage, out of the hundreds of others he could have.

She was still sick at the time, spending most of her days laying in a hospital bed while nurses bustled in and out. She had lost so much weight that her cheeks were gaunt, and her face and hands were so white they were almost transparent, pale blue veins clear through the skin.

Her lips were pale and chapped, and the dark circles around her eyes were deeply imprinted in her skin like bruises. She looked like a ghost, a fragile, terrifying imitation of the woman who had raised you, a woman who you had thought put the stars themselves into the sky. She was weak, and even before she passed away it was like she was already dead.  

She had gripped your hand as tightly as she could when you had asked that question, sweaty palm squeezing yours to the point of pain in a rare show of strength. She was usually so weak the nurses and you had to feed her by hand as she could barely lift up her arms. She looked you in the eye and pulled you close until your face was right next to hers.

In the croak that had now become her voice, she whispered, “I had asked the same question, years after he had proposed. I asked, ‘Jonathon, why this ring? Why this cut, why this color?’. And he had gripped me tightly and pulled me close and said, ‘Well, my love, it’s the breathtaking green color of your eyes. Your eyes and the ring match exactly, you see. And every time you look at it, you will see yourself the way I see you. Beautiful and bright.’

Tears had filled her glazed eyes, and she whispered to you, “No matter what, when you find the one you love, never let them go. Cherish every single second you have with them, never take them for granted, and make sure that they love you for everything that you are, the good and the bad. It is the purpose of our life. Love. Without it, we are nothing.” Against the tears and the agony that claimed her face and voice, your mother smiled for the first time in years.

Your father had passed away while your mother was still pregnant, killed in an easily avoidable accident. No matter how much your mother loved you before she had gotten sick, no matter how much joy you brought to her life, there was always a deep sorrow and grief inside her that consumed her soul every day.

She never got over your father, never dated or remarried or showed the barest hint of interest in anyone else. When asked why, she said that she had already had the love of her life, and there was no one who could ever compare to even the lingering ghost of your father that seemed to haunt her.

And when the sickness truly hit and reduced her to almost nothing, her anger and bitterness twisted her mind and her love for you into something cruel and abhorrent. 

Even years later you kept her whispered words locked away into the very muscles of your heart. Even though your mother had been sick and weak when she told you these things, it was one of your few beloved moments with her. It had shown you who your mother really was, past all the sickness and malice, who she really was deep in her soul. That she had once loved and been loved.

And now you wear her wedding ring as a reminder of your parent’s love for each other, and how regardless of your mother’s cruelty toward you during the last years of her life, your love for her would never fade.

You’re jerked out of your melancholy thoughts when Margot burps loudly and thumps a fist against her chest.

“Jesus Christ, Margot. Where the fuck did you learn your manners from?” James asks, recoiling in disgust.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m almost done, then we can go check out the linking center.”

You nod eagerly, so overwhelmed with anticipation and delight that your fingers tremor just slightly.

You are so ready to meet your Avatar and link up for the first time, but the thought of anything going wrong makes you restless. You wish you could just get it over with so you could stop agonizing over it.

Margot finally finishes her food and stands up to dump her plate. James does the same, and then all five of you are off, walking down a long hallway with lots of twists and turns. The fluorescent  lights shine brightly on the ceiling, and you can hear the distant sounds of never-ending construction.

Even with all five of you working together to get to your destination, the new buildings are too much for your group and you get lost in the labyrinth of hallways. James even has to ask a nearby custodian for directions once or twice. When you turn a corner, you spot a bathroom sign, and suddenly you have business to take care of. You pat Margot’s arm and point in that direction.

“Hey, guys, I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

The rest of the group nods, but Margot decides to go with you. You do your business and you’re washing your hands in the sink when Margot makes eye contact with you through the mirror as she washes her own hands.

“I won’t lie, honey, I’m feeling pretty nervous about linking up as well. I know we’ve been through training simulations and have studied and practiced for years, but this is going to be different.” Her face and voice are uncharacteristically serious, and her hands shake just slightly as she pulls a towel out of the dispenser to dry her hands.

You feel a flash of sympathy for your friend, stopping your own drying. You walk around to her and put your hands on her shoulders, leaning your face close to hers.

“It’ll be okay, Margot, we’ve both got this. We just need to do it, and then it’ll be as easy as breathing before we know it, okay?”

Margot nods and takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment. When she looks up she’s much calmer, and her usual peppy attitude is back and shining.

“Thanks, sugar.”

You nod understandingly, releasing her shoulders and knocking her hip with yours as you walk toward the bathroom door. You both step outside into the hallway and continue your way.

“Of course. And besides, I’m just so ready to finally see her, you know? We’ve seen pictures and videos, but actually being there in real life is going to feel so surreal. The Na’vi are just stunning to me. Ooh, I almost forgot!”

You stop walking as you talk, scientist-brain taking over. Margot moves to stand in front of you, crossing her arms over her chest with an amused expression. This was far from the first time you had gone on a tangent.

“I saw someone from the recombinant unit when I was walking around yesterday, and he was fucking huge!”

You’re so busy trying to organize your thought flow into something sensible that you completely miss the approaching footsteps coming from behind you, and the way Margot looks over your shoulder and turns white.

You continue on, oblivious.

“He must have been pretty high ranking because the people with him followed him around like little ducklings. And the blue pigment of his skin was so beautiful. The color contrast of his eyes versus his skin kind of reminded me of a Primula ‘Zebra Blue’, you know, that blue and golden flower that went extinct like a hundred years ago? It was just amazing to finally see in person, and I-”

“Well, aren’t you just a peach?”

The deep voice that comes from behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You whirl around, expecting to come face to face with whomever just spoke. Instead, you come eye level with the belt buckle and zipper of a pair of navy green camo military pants.

Your heart drops to your shoes.

You tilt your head up, up, up, until it’s practically craning backward. The uncomfortable position hurts, but that’s the least of your problems.

Your biggest problem, literally and figuratively, is the cold eyes and carefully amused face of the man you were just talking about.

You open your mouth to speak but words refuse to leave.

Why does this shit always happen to me?

You clamp your mouth shut when no words appear and swallow nervously, and the man notices your tense expression.

He smirks down at you, almost sneering. From the way he towers over you closely, unconcerned with personal space, it’s clear that this man likes to have people’s attention on him, takes pleasure in scaring people with his massive height and muscles.

And his intimidation tactics completely work on you, that’s for sure.

Jesus, look at his hands. He could cover my entire face and upper torso with just one of them!

You want to put as much distance between this frightening man and yourself as possible. But there’s a little voice in the back of your head, a stupid, too-curious little voice, that want you to examine him all the way from the finger pads and palm lines of his hands to the tip of his tail.

He was terrifying, yes, but you are also stunned by the wonderful science and technology that made up his body.

Of course, you’d seen holographs and pictures of Avatars and the Na’vi people, but they could never hold a candle to the real thing.

The navy green tank top, tattoo, and dog tags were all familiar things, but his height and the bright, smooth blue color of his skin were brand-new to you, something you wanted to take a closer look at. His hair was shaved closer to his skull than any other you’d seen, Avatar and Na’vi alike.

His bright yellow eyes sear into yours, and it feels like he is trying to see into your fucking soul.

Your heart rate skyrockets, mortified and thrilled and fearful all at once. The pile of extreme emotions twists your stomach, making you queasy.

Do not fucking puke on his shoes.

The man takes a step back to make room for his massive arm before he lifts it up, clearly holding his hand between you for a handshake. It almost seems as though he is testing your nerve; you wonder how many people had chosen not to shake his hand, too frightened.

“The name’s Colonel Quaritch, pleasure to meet you. What’s your name.” It’s a demand more than a question.  

You look up at his face again before quickly wiping your hands on your lab coat to get rid of any sweat. You grab onto his hand as best as you can with your own, and holy shit.

His hand engulfs your own minuscule one and part of your forearm, his fingers reaching almost all the way to your elbow. And the skin of his hand is surprisingly soft; he doesn’t have as many calluses as you thought a marine would, but that might be because his Avatar body is fairly new. You tell him your name, and say,

“Uh, sorry, sir! I’m a xenobotanist from the science division, I got here about two weeks ago!” Your voice is squeaky and louder than you want it to be, making you cringe. You barely remember to shake his hand as you speak other than simply hold it in your own.

He continues to stare at you, wicked smile only growing when you say you’re a scientist.

“Ah, you tree-huggers are officially back, then. Part of the ‘newly instated Avatar program’, right?”

“Uh, y-yes, sir. That’s us.” You laugh weakly.

He barely twitches the fingers of the hand still holding your own, but the strength that comes from them is enough to make his grip almost painful.

“Hmmm. Well, I’m real curious to see how long you and your friend last before Pandora eats you alive. Just as a friendly warnin’, you should be real careful about what you say and who you say it about ‘round here. Guess I’ll be seein’ you. Peach.”

Your knees weaken and you nod hurriedly.

He finally releases your hand, gives you one last cold, golden look, and continues on his way. His bare arm brushes your shoulder as he passes you, and it’s enough to make you shiver.

He’s gone in just a few seconds, but you stay rooted in your spot, staring at the floor. You’re wondering if he’s going to come back and shank you with the wicked knife you’d seen strapped to his thigh when a hand gently presses against your shoulder.

You leap into the air for the second time that day, hand slamming into your chest and breath coming out in a gasp as you realize it’s just Margot. You’d completely forgotten she was even there, too consumed with the encompassing presence of Colonel Quaritch.

You look at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Margot returns your stunned look, face paler than you’ve ever seen it before.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. You have the worst luck out of anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life. What the fuck just happened?”

You gulp. “I’m pretty sure that a terrifying man who wouldn’t hesitate to gut me overheard me practically gushing about him?”

She nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You stand there, practically swaying on your feet. “Oh my god, he fucking hates me! Did you see the look on his face? Oh my god, why is this happening? I’m never going to able to leave my room again!”

You bury your face into your hands, suddenly exhausted. First the mess hall, now this? Why couldn’t you just not embarrass yourself for once?

Margot pats your shoulder as you groan. “There, there. It’s alright, all you have to do is avoid him for the rest of your life. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure the next time you see him he’ll either just ignore you or kill you for saying all that stuff about him, and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore!”

“But I didn’t even mean it in a bad way! I was just describing him, the same way I do with all unknown subjects.”

Margot winces. “Uh, yeah, I would definitely not tell him that.”

------

You feel like whining as you finally continue walking to the linking center. After all that, the excitement you had felt at meeting your Avatar had almost completely disappeared. Now, the only thing you wanted to do was crawl back to your room and hide underneath your blankets forever.

But Margot pulls on your hand and ignores your childish wishes. When you arrive, she practically has to push you into the room.

And then every single thing, all of your hard work, the training, the learning, even the awkwardness of that day, was suddenly all worth it when you saw her for the first time.

She was curled up in the tank, cords attached to her body and eyes moving behind her closed lids. She floated gently around in the liquid that surrounded her, sometimes twitching a limb as she slept on.

You approach the tank, mind blank and mouth dry. As you get closer, you can see the details of her face, your face, just shifted into the feline-like features of a Na’vi.

She stole the breath straight from your lungs.

And that was how you spent the next few weeks, gazing at her slash yourself. Eventually, the time came for the first linkup, and everything went well, just like you had told Margot.

You spent the next month linking into your Avatar and wandering around the facilities, checking your reflexes and consuming everything Pandora had to offer while still in the confined space of Bridgehead City.

The disorientation from linking was enough to make you lay in a cot for an half an hour each time, too dizzy to move much. It’s such a bizarre feeling, suddenly being so much taller than everything else, and you are so much stronger than you are as a human.

It took a long time to remember your strength, and you accidentally put dents into a metal door handle when you grabbed it, squeezing it much harder than you meant to. The tiny little humans helping you gave you a pretty wide berth after that, only approaching when necessary.

You practiced using your new body, walking around without sitting on your long-haired queue or stepping on your new tail, which flailed around with a mind of its own. You liked to press your tongue to your sharp canines and look at the swaying tendrils attached to your hair.

It was an exhausting, thrilling process, and you loved every second of it.

None of the new Avatars had yet to actually leave Bridgehead and go into the forest yet. It would probably take a few more weeks for that to happen, and even then, you would probably only be allowed into the tree line past the Kill Zone.

Still, you eagerly look forward to that day, barely able to contain yourself in your excitement. It’s all you can think of day and night, and even in your dreams. On that day, you would be accomplishing so much more than a lifelong goal.  

Now, your group is relaxing in one of the lounges used for breaks, discussing your experience with linking and Pandora. It was something you’d been talking about for the past few hours, the past few weeks, really. It wasn’t like any of you had very much in common with each other, other than your careers and education, but you were trying to dig a little deeper to learn more about these people.

The only problem was they were more antisocial than not, which was almost to be expected by a bunch of scientists. They were also hesitant to speak much about their past. You were the same way. They probably wouldn’t be here if they had a very pleasant past filled with lots of people they wanted to stay with back home.

You eat the small bag of crackers you’d snagged from one of the vending machines lining the gray walls of the room, hoping that the tiny treat will hold you until your next meal. The chair you are leaning back in creaks dangerously and wobbles, but you hold your precarious position, feet pulled up and crossed on the table in front of you.

Your mind wanders as the chatter of the group drifts in and out of your ears. You think of nothing in particular, dazing out of focus, simply relaxing for once.

That peace is shattered when James leaps from his chair further down the table where he and Emma sit. They’re playing an old-fashioned card game; one you’ve never heard of before. When you asked James where he learned it from, he said his great-grandfather had taught it to him. Something called ‘Go Fish’.

James raises his arms above his head in apparent victory, grinning fiercely.

“That’s round three for me, Emma!”

Emma is giggling behind her hand, cheeks flushed a bright pink. She keeps her eyes on James as he playfully postures at winning, and the sight of her joy makes you grin.

You look across the table at Margot and wiggle your eyebrows. She laughs quietly, nodding in agreement.

Sweet Emma and James. You’re almost surprised that they developed such an obvious, big fat crush on each other out of all people, given that their personalities are so different.

Maybe opposites really do attract?

Whatever the reason may be, you hope your friends find happiness in one another. The world could certainly do with more love.  

Margot scoffs in disgust and curls her lip at her empty plate, apparently already over the tooth-rotting sweetness that was Emma and James.

She throws down her silverware onto the table and leans back in her chair, pout firm on her face.

“The food here is ass! You’d think a multi-trillion-dollar company would be able to feed its employees with something other than more fucking oatmeal. I’m so damn tired of oatmeal! It’s been most of our meals for the past month!”

“The supply shipment is late, you know that.” Is all you say. There is nothing to gain from arguing with Margot when she gets into one of these hungry moods.

“Then they need to make it un-late and bring me my fucking muffins!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ‘un-late’ isn’t even a word, but I do agree with you. Oatmeal reserves are getting pretty old.”

Margot nods vigorously, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table.

“Coup? Coup? Anybody interested?”

You throw back your head and laugh, “Margot, we’re not going throw a coup just because there aren’t any muffins! I thought you had saved a bunch of snacks the last time this happened?”

Margot deflates. “I ate them all already and the vending machines are out of my favorites!”

“Oh, Margot.”

“I know! Somebody just put me out of my misery.” She plants her face into her crossed arms on the table, moping.

“You know, you always complain about the food here, Margot, but that never seems to stop you from scarfing it down,” James says, putting himself into your conversation. He sits in his chair still, shuffling the deck of cards as he smirks at Margot.

“I have to eat it, it’s the only thing they have here!”

You open your mouth to say something, only to pause when a big blue hand reaches around the curve of the open doorway like something out of a horror movie. You sit there, gaping, as Colonel Quaritch crouches down through the opening and steps into the break room.

Margot, James, and Emma see your startled face and turn to see what you’re looking at. When they see Quaritch, they all lurch out of their seats to stand up straight. The cards Emma and James were playing with go flying all over the table and the ground, and Margot nearly knocks her plate off the table.

Quaritch straightens up and stands, several feet taller than any of you. He rests his hand on the holster of the belt wrapped around his trim waistline and practically cocks his hip as he looks directly at you.

You’re still sitting, cracker packet now crushed to a pulp in your right hand. When he looks at you, you finally jolt up to your feet. You dust off the cracker crumbs from your shirt as best you can, anxiety filling you.

“S-Sir!”

What the hell is he doing here!?

He saunters into the room until he’s standing by the table, just a few feet from you. You crane your head up to look at him, baffled and worried.

“Is there…anything you need, sir?” You can’t help the way your eyebrows scrunch up as you ask, clearly confused.

He stares down at you, head tilting to the side as if pondering something. Eventually, he speaks.

“Walk with me.”

And then he turns on his heel and ducks out of the room as quickly as he had entered. You stand, frozen, turning a bewildered stare to your group of friends. They stare back at you, just as perplexed, until Margot urges you to follow him with a push of her hand on your back.

You get your limbs to move and start walking after him, exiting the break room and finding him waiting. Once he sees you’re following after him, he continues walking down the hallway without a word.

The silence is almost uncomfortable as you walk several hallway lengths away from the lounge to some unknown destination. You’re almost tempted to break it to ask where the hell he’s taking you, but fear of his biting words keeps your mouth shut.

His legs are so long that his stride is practically jogging for you, and you have to speed walk so you don’t get left behind. He notices you struggling but doesn’t slow down one bit. In fact, the bastard smirks meanly at your frustration and funny walking pace.

You scowl at his amusement but refuse to say a word.

Finally, Quaritch stops in front of an enormous metal door, and he takes a key from his pocket and twists it into the lock on the doorknob. He opens it and walks in, and then gestures for you to do the same with an impatient wave of his hand.

You hurriedly scuttle in, freaking out even more. If he’s taking you to his office then he must have something serious to talk about, right? Was he going to punish you for what you said, was he going to yell at you, threaten you? You’re practically sweating, fingers twisting as your imagination goes wild.

You take a moment to break out of your thoughts and look around.

You pause.

You stand in the middle of the room, eyes locked onto one thing and one thing only: the large bed laying flush up against the corner of the space.

Who keeps a bed in their office? Is the first thing that comes to your mind. Confusion rushes through you and you look around the room, taking in the closet doors, the large desk tucked into the corner across the room parallel to the bed, the empty walls just as barren as your own room.

Your own room.

Ohmygod I’m in his room. Why would he bring me to his room!?

You whirl around, and Quaritch is standing so close to you that your face nearly smacks into his crotch.

You leap backward with a yelp and jump when Quaritch barks out a loud, unfriendly laugh and then sneers at you.

“I would’ve taken you to my office before, but it seems I don’t have one of those anymore. So, this’ll have to do.”

Confusion layered with frustration comes back to you, and your eyebrows furrow. “Do for what, sir?” You barely remember to tack on the ‘sir’ at the end of your sentence.

His face suddenly breaks out into a sharp-toothed grin, and he leans back, smug once more. You were really starting to get tired of that expression.

“I have a… proposition, for you.”

You barely refrain from turning a wide-eyed, horrified look at the bed.

Under any other circumstance, if a man had taken you to his bedroom and said he was propositioning you, you would be real worried. Red flags would pop up in your brain, mind demanding you flee fast.

But these aren’t normal circumstances, given that one of his arms alone is almost as big as your body. And you didn’t really get the impression that was something he was looking for right now, so you shake your head to get rid of any crude thoughts. You refuse to lower your guard, though, still uneasy.

“Uh, a proposition, sir?”

“Yes. You see, I’m under the firm belief that to destroy your enemies, you have to think like ‘em, be like ‘em. Kill like ‘em, eat like ‘em, shit like ‘em, that sorta thing.”

He takes a step closer and you take one back.

“And if I want to have even a snowball’s chance in hell of finding Jake Sully and the rest of the natives, I’m going to need to put myself in their shoes, metaphorically speaking. But most of the people here are military, marines, people with no knowledge of the Na’vi except how best to kill ‘em.”

“So. Who best to teach me how to be Na’vi other than one of the soft-hearted, limp-dicked scientists who just eats up Na’vi shit like it’s Mamma’s home-baked cookies?”

His yellow eyes burn into yours.

“One specific little scientist came to mind, you see, when I was thinkin’.”

You knew it was coming, but that doesn’t stop you from blanching. You shove a finger in your chest and point at yourself like an idiot.

“Me?”

Quaritch finally leans back, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, you.”

You sputter, mind going a thousand miles per hour.

“But-but, I’m not even an anthropologist, sir! I study foreign plant and-and animal life! Emma, she is the one in anthropology, you should talk to her!”

Quaritch scoffs.

“Emma Rodrigo can barely string a sentence together without pissin’ her pants, let alone teach me to do anythin’.” He crosses his arms over his chest, muscles bulging. His wicked teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting as he grins.

“Nah, I think it outta be you. Peach.”

Shit, shit, shit!

I was right, I should have just gone to my room and never come out.

“But-”

“You can say no, ‘course. This ain’t an order.” The look in his eyes says otherwise. If you decline, you’re sure you’ll either be cleaning toilets for the rest of your life or found dead with his knife in your gut. There is no going easy with this guy.

You gape at him, dumbstruck by the bizarre turn your day had taken. You had hoped you would never have to see this terrifying man ever again, fully prepared to cower and duck out of every room you saw him in. Now, he was asking you, of all people on this base, to teach him?

While this guy had the height and look of a Na’vi, he seemed to utterly despise everything about them. Was it even possible for him to learn anything about the Na’vi, their culture and their language, for it to really make a difference in whether he found them or not?

You weren’t even good at teaching! You were far better at learning and observing than educating people, and you had never been interested in changing that. Could you really teach this guy anything? Was he even capable of learning?

Your face hardens as you realize you’re faced with no other choice but to accept.

I guess we’ll see.

“You know, if you’re too chicken-shit to help me out, I could always get-”

“I’ll do it.” Your voice comes out firm, as confidently as you dared to speak to him.

“…oh?” He raises an eyebrow, looking surprised. And skeptical, the asshole.

You nod your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You are nervous, yes, but it had been decided. There was no going back now.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Yes. I’ll teach you everything you want to know about the Na’vi. But I-I also want something in return.”

His eyebrow raises higher.

You muster all the courage and audacity you can find in your body. Admittedly, there isn’t much, but you scrounge up enough to say the next few words aloud,

“In exchange for teaching you, I want you to teach me how to fight. I need to be able to protect myself when I’m out in the forest collecting samples, and I would ask one of my friends, but they can barely handle butter knives. And you are obviously…”

You eye him from top to bottom, eyes lingering on his massive arms before you can stop yourself.

“…capable.” You finish lamely, swallowing. You refuse to back down though, tilting your chin up and keeping eye contact.

Quaritch grins slowly.

“Well, little Peach, you certainly have bigger balls than I thought! It’s a deal-”

You hold your hand out for a handshake, palm open.

“To make it official.”

Quaritch glances down at your hand and then at your face, expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he reaches to grasp your hand and most of your arm once more. He pumps your entire arm down three times, eyes never leaving yours.

If you dared to think it, you might have thought he looked almost…impressed.

You clear your throat, face on fire. “So. When would work best for you, for our lessons?”

“…0500 every day for the next two months outta do it.”

Your eyes widen in horror, mouth dropping open all over again in protest. You barely keep yourself from grasping your chest in shock.

These military guys, did they never learn how to fucking sleep in!? That’s so damn early!

His sneering smirk returns to his face at your reaction, “Come on, Peach! Where’s your sense of adventure? You’ll tell me everything I need to know about the tree-fuckers, and I’ll teach you how to take a fist to the face, that sound good? About two hours each, four hours in total every single god-damn day. Good? Good.”

You sputter, hardly believing your ears. “Four hours every day? Don’t you have better things to do!?”

“Nope. My entire purpose for existing is to capture the traitor Jake Sully and end this war once and for all. With your help, I might actually be able to do that, which means that your time is now my time. Got it?”

You nod, queasy. It seems like all of your bravado from earlier had fled, leaving you with only the shakes and a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl, Peach. Knew you had it in ya’!”

He claps your shoulder, and even through your shirt you can feel the warmth leaching off his hand and into your own skin.

The grin he wears makes you shiver, and you suddenly feel like prey that had just been caught by a predator, sharp teeth sinking into your neck and bleeding you dry.

He leads you to the door of his bedroom and practically tosses you out, done with you now that he had gotten what he wanted. He barely gives himself a chance to say, “See you bright an’ early tomorrow morning, Peach!” before he is slamming the door in your gawking face.

You stood outside his door for a few moments, simply processing. Eventually, you’re able to make your feet unstick from the floor and you wander back to the break room in a daze, mind clouded.

I can’t fucking believe that just happened. This is going to change my entire schedule for the next few months! Jesus Christ.

You practically stumble through the hallways toward your destination. Once you reach the door to the break room, you lean your arm against it and press your forehead into your arm. Your eyes close, and your heart jackhammers in your chest.

I don’t there’s anyone in my entire life who has ever made me as nervous as that guy. Holy shit.

You take deep breaths, trying to relax your muscles and get some air into your lungs. It takes a few moments, but eventually you’re able to get your heart rate down to a steady pump.

You lick your lips, suddenly parched.

When you lean up from your perch against the door and open your eyes, you can see the faint form of your face shining up from the metal of the door. Your pupils are blown, eyes still wide, and your cheeks are red.

He is seriously the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever met. And now I’m going to have to teach him things! I don’t know how I’m going to do it without passing out a few times, ohmygod. This is going to be miserable.

You swallow as best you can with a dry throat and shakily reach up to fix your messy hair, smoothing down flyaways. You straighten your shirt, crack your neck, and plaster a calm smile onto your face.

There’s no reason to let them know how terrified I am.

You open the door to the break room and step inside, ready to answer any questions they must surely have, and…

The room is empty.

You deflate, hand rubbing down your face and feeling embarrassed.

Of course they wouldn’t wait, we have a linking session in thirty minutes…that I am now late for. Fantastic.

------

You spend the rest of the day completely distracted, too worried about what might happen the next morning. It even took longer than usual for you to link into your Avatar, and when you were finally able to get outside, you had to answer to the swarm of nosy scientists you called your friends.

They were just concerned, you knew, but you didn’t like having to relive the entire stressful event down to the last detail. Still, you gave in and spilled, telling them about Quaritch’s ‘proposition’ (ha!) and leaving out the part where he had taken you to his bedroom.  

They had all given you looks that ranged from horrified -Emma-, sympathetic -Margot and James-, and utterly uncaring -David-.

You start drinking from your water bottle franticly after you tell them everything, feeling anxious all over again.

“Well, maybe this won’t be such a bad thing,” Margot says, expression turning contemplative. All members of your group are sitting outside around a creaky wooden table in your Avatar forms, enjoying the fresh, sweet air and the bright light of Pandora as the rays warm your cyan skin. When you tilt your head back to let it shine on your face, it almost feels like home had been before the pollution clouded the sky.

Your hearing in this form is incredibly sensitive, and it hurts to hear the loud, never-ending beeping and rumbling of production taking place. It had taken you weeks to spend much time outside, and even then, you still sometimes have to put your hands over your big pointy ears when the sounds become too overwhelming.

Margot curls her large fingers underneath her chin and props her head up in her hand, “I mean, you’ll learn to protect yourself, so there’s that. Also, um…” She looks at the rest of the group mischievously, and they all get questioning looks on their faces.

She clears her throat and leans in closer to you. She puts a hand in front of her mouth, blocking it from the others, and whispers into your ear,

“I really, really wouldn’t mind getting to see how big his dick actually is and maybe you’ll get a chance.”

You choke on the water pouring into your mouth, spraying it all over the table you are sitting at. The liquid gets caught in your throat, causing you to cough painfully.

“Oh my god, Margot!” you screech, still coughing into your elbow and voice coming out scratchy. Your watery eyes glare at her over your arm.

Margot shrugs, “What, I was just saying what we were all thinking. He’s the biggest guy here, which has gotta mean something, right?” She wiggles her eyebrows and grins salaciously, and you bury your face into your arm.

“If he ever heard you saying anything like that, he would put his knife straight through your face without even hesitating!”

“I’ll let him put something else in my face if he wants.”

“Margot!”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed that Colonel Miles Quaritch was a beautiful man. It would be impossible, really. Despite the sneer he always seemed to have on his face, the deep cyan of his skin, his wide, golden eyes, and his tall, broad frame were enough to make anybody swoon.

And his feline features weren’t the only thing that made him attractive. You could see his beauty in his long-fingered and broad hands, in his high cheekbones, in the curve of his lips even when they were curled up in disdain. 

It wouldn’t surprise you to learn that a lot of people thought he was attractive just because of his attitude, either. Back home it seemed that everyone was interested in the cocky, proud, manly posturing that Quaritch seemed to like to do.

But despite how pretty he may be, he was also absolutely, shit-your-pants terrifying, and an asshole, which was enough for you to keep it in your pants. That, and the fact that he hated your guts.

“Trust me, Margot, I’ll be too busy trying not to piss him off again to see how big anything is.”

Great, now I’m thinking about his dick.

Margot rolls her eyes but leans back in her seat and drops the subject, “Your loss, then.”

James strikes up a new topic, just as embarrassed as you, and you slouch gratefully back into your seat, glad that the interrogation is over.

It’s nearing darkness by the time you all finish your linking sessions, and the group shuffles their way back into the sleeping center for the Avatars. You move over to your assigned bed, crawling under the soft sheets and sighing deeply.

You lightly traced your right-hand index finger over the smooth skin of your left arm, causing goosebumps to rise. It was still so strange, being able to actually feel with a body that was yours but not, having so many new features that you still have to adjust to even weeks later. Having a whole-ass tail, being several feet taller than any human alive, having super strength, hell, even being blue was still just totally fucking weird.

You lay back into the cot and attempt to clear your mind from any thoughts, but it was just as hard as it had been when you had linked earlier. After a few minutes, you are finally able to silence your mind and drift off just enough for the link to become secure and for you to wake up in the gel link bed, back in your human body.

By the time you walk to your room, you are bone-wary, almost stumbling on your feet. You dread the coming morning, and the only thing you want to do now is turn off your brain and rest. Your shoulders hurt from the stress of the day, and when you finally unlock your bedroom door, take off your clothes, shower, and brush your teeth, you’re practically hunched over.

You shuffle under the covers once again, and you’re unconscious before your head can fully settle onto the pillow. 

------

Your eyes pop open, arms and legs flailing wildly in your sheets as you struggle to reach over to your alarm clock to silence its screaming. When you finally smack it, the crack of your hand connecting with its durable metal makes your palm sting angrily.

You let out a hoarse groan, cradling your hand to your chest as you flop down onto your bed. It had barely felt like you had gotten a wink of sleep last night, too busy thinking about your approaching morning with Quaritch. Scenarios ranging from you accidentally stabbing him to him purposefully stabbing you ran through your head, keeping you awake after only a few hours of rest.

Eventually, you stop your moping and reluctantly pull yourself out of your bed, eyes blearily glaring around your room.

It’s still a gray and sad little space, your room, but you had placed the small number of personal items you brought with you to Pandora throughout it. The one picture you had of your parents sits framed on your desk, along with your holotablet.  

The few items of clothing and the two pairs of shoes you owned were put up in your closet haphazardly, and your hygienic amenities were scattered across the small bathroom connected to your room.

Your room and areas beyond it are all so generic and boring, which is why you spend most of your time either with your group or outside in your Avatar, being able to run around and feel. And once you were finally able to leave Bridgehead, your life would start, and it wouldn’t matter what your room looked like.

You tiredly get dressed and brush your teeth and your wild hair, putting it up into a simple ponytail to keep it out of your face. Once you’re suitable, you head out and lock the door behind you, placing the key in the right pocket of your jeans.

The hallways are quiet for once, and even the incessant roaring of construction has stopped. You walk down the softly lit hallways to the mess hall, unreasonably jealous of the people who get to sleep in their beds.

Most of the lights are off when you walk in, but to your surprise, there are a few people sitting down at a table already eating their breakfast.

Guess my assumption about the military was right, they really don’t know how to sleep in.

To your delight, there is a light amount of muffins and bagels laid out on a table nearby, but the most important thing was the coffee pot next to them.

Looks like the shipment finally came in. Margot is going to piss her pants.

You gladly snag two muffins with napkins and two small cups of coffee, heading right back out the door to the hallway with a friendly smile to the person walking in. They look blankly back at you, but you don’t mind as you stuff a chocolate chip muffin into your mouth as you walk.

You shuffle the remaining muffin and cups into your left hand and elbow crook, grasping the cold metal handle of the glass door that leads into the center with your right hand. You can see a head of black curls poke out from the side of a monitor, followed quickly by a scowl and a pair of eyes glaring blearily at you as you walk in.

You wince. “Morning, Tom. Thanks again for doing this, I really appreciate it.”

Tom had been the unlucky soul you had asked to help link you into your Avatar every morning for the foreseeable future. He had balked when you had asked, saying “Hell no!” before the words were fully out of your mouth. You had leveled him with your best begging look and offered to pay for six of the ridiculously expensive books you know he liked to read coming in on the next supply shipment.

He grouchily agreed to the deal but demanded you bring him breakfast every morning. You had accepted with a pleased smile.

Tom rolls his eyes and snatches the cup of coffee from your hand when you offer it. You’re about to warn him about how hot it was when he gulps half of it down. You watch, halfway impressed and halfway feeling the pain for him in your own throat.

“Let’s get started, then.” His voice is even more crackly than yours is this early.

You nod hurriedly and take one last sip of your coffee before you reluctantly set it down on the table. You walk over to the link bed and crawl in, and Tom pulls the cover down over you. You settle in, closing your eyes to clear your mind.

------

“There ya’ are, Peach! I was startin’ to think you’d chickened out on me.” Quaritch’s loud voice startles you out of your sleepy trance, and your head snaps up from where it is laying against the metal table you are sitting at.

The asshole looks as awake and lucid as usual, not a hint of tiredness on his face. He grins nastily when he sees your sleepy expression.

“We didn’t agree on a place to meet up, sir.” You are barely able to cover your yawn with a hand, and you stand with a grimace.

“That is true. From now on, we’ll do our lessons in Courtyard Six. Try to keep up.”

He turns and walks away, clearly expecting you to follow. You hurry to catch up with his long stride, but it’s much easier to do in this form. He’s almost ten feet tall, but your Avatar is eight and a half feet tall, and you are able to lengthen your stride to match his pace. Your shoulder width and muscles are still much smaller than his, but you imagined most were.

As you step in close to him, your nose twitches, and you realize something that almost makes you trip.

Quaritch smells really, really good.

You lean in closer to him and inhale discreetly, deeper than before, and, yep, that scent is definitely coming from him.

It is such a rich scent, a strange combination of rainwater, black coffee, and something smoky, like a campfire.  

The smell is so strong that it feels like a physical mist floating its way through your nose and ears and into your head. Your mind goes fuzzy, as if suddenly stuffed with cotton. Your lips and fingertips tingle. And to your absolute horror, you can actually feel your mouth start to water.

It’s just such a lovely scent.

Do you think he’d be okay with it if I pressed my nose into his neck to smell him better-No!

You try to break out of the mist, shaking your head to get rid of the images of licking up his neck, tasting his skin, the way his head would tilt back and you would be able to feel his rumbling groan spread through his chest pressed up against your own and-

Stop it! Jesus Christ, don’t even think about it!

This is just a completely normal physical reaction, right? Maybe, but it wasn’t like this with the other guys!

In front of you, Quaritch’s footsteps stutter to a stop for a split second before resuming. It’s barely a pause, but it’s enough to make you snap out of your thoughts and look up at him. When you do, you notice the slight twitching of his own feline-like nose.

Is he smelling the same thing?

He turns his head around slightly to look at you, and you make eye contact with him just enough to notice his pupils are blown out, consuming most of his iris.

My eyes are probably no better, you think, before ducking your head to watch your feet as you walk.

Quaritch stares at you for a moment and then turns his attention back toward the path, and you do the same. You discreetly rub at your sensitive nose, trying to get his fantastic scent out of your head. A few moments after you do, Quaritch rubs at his own nose.

It doesn’t work, but by the time you reach the courtyard you’ve already gotten a little used to it. Thankfully you don’t feel as lightheaded anymore, but you have no idea if it is going to come back.

You notice that the sky has begun to lighten up as Quaritch unlocks the chain-link gate leading into the yard. Not that you really need any light, what with being able to see in the dark and all.

 He stops once you enter and closes the gate behind you, and you can immediately tell why he had chosen this courtyard out of all the others. It was hidden behind a big wall of concrete that had no windows, so nobody could see you from inside the building, and it was positioned all the way in the back of the court section, meaning it was far more remote and private than the others.

Probably doesn’t want his tough guy image to be hurt when people saw him learning about the Na’vi and chatting with a little scientist, the prick.

The enclosure is a simple little area with a small basketball court, a tetherball pole, and a metal table. Nothing special, but it would be perfect for your lessons. 

He turns around to meet your eyes, and you still have to tilt your head back to return his yellow gaze. The bioluminescent markings on his face glow brightly.  

“You wanna go first, Peach?”

You swallow nervously but nod, “I’ll go first. I thought a lot about what our first lesson was going to be last night.”

You drop down onto the soft faux grass that covered the courtyard, legs crisscross applesauce in front of you as you avoid sitting on your flicking tail. You look up at him expectantly when he continues to stand.

Quaritch looks at the table sitting just a few feet away and shrugs. He plops down onto the grass hesitantly and crosses his legs in front of him the same as you. Now that he’s actually here, all the plans you made completely leave your brain, and you mind turns blank as you struggle to come up with something to say. You both sit there in silence for a few moments before he says,

“So are you actually going to say anything in this lesson or what? Usually I can’t get you quacks to shut the fuck up-”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just trying to figure out where to start. Um…” Your brain flashes to what Quaritch had said when he started this whole thing, wanting to learn more about the way the Na’vi think, what’s important to them, how they work.

“Okay. Well, I guess the first place to start would be at the very beginning. Millions of years ago, when-”

Quaritch interrupts you with a loud groan, throwing his head back in exasperation, “I’m not askin’ for a history lesson here, Peach. Just tell me about them now, how they operate now, in this time, not millions of years ago! Jesus Christ, you pretentious assholes always have to drag things out-”

“Okay, alright, I’m sorry! Um, so the most important thing to know about the Na’vi is their connection to nature, their connection to Eywa. You’ve heard about Her, right?”

You continue to speak when Quaritch nods. “Right, well, She protects the balance of life here on Pandora, and the Na’vi love Eywa, the Great Mother. All things on Pandora are connected to each other through Eywa; you, me, plants, animals, you name it. Life and the forest are sacred to them because it bonds them to Eywa. They can actually speak to Her, and there are places like the Tree of Souls and the Tree of Voices that are sacred to them. They connect all the Na’vi to Eywa and to their ancestors, and they can actually hear the voices of past living people, isn’t that amazing? Are you with me so far?”

Quaritch nods again, surprisingly quiet. In fact, it’s probably the longest you’ve ever seen him be silent. His face is carefully blank, eyebrows furrowed with some unnamed emotion as he listens to you speak.

And that’s how the next two hours go, you talking and Quaritch listening with rapt attention. You had no idea if what you were talking about was anything Quaritch wanted to hear, but he didn’t interrupt you other than to ask a rare question.  

About an hour in you stood up and stretched, bones popping and limbs aching from sitting on the ground for so long. Your ass was practically numb, and your left leg was stinging with pins and needles. You put your hands on your hips and looked down at Quaritch, who remained sitting on the grass.

For the first time ever, you were actually the one towering over him, and the thought made you grin as he looked up at you.

It seemed he could tell what you were thinking, because he scowled and pulled himself up on his feet, looming over you once more. He stretched his long arms above his head to get the blood flowing back in, groaning just like you had a moment ago.

You paused your own movement, gaze lingering on the way his strong muscles shifted underneath his pretty blue skin. They bunched up as his arms flexed, and your mouth turned dry.

Your eyes flickered over them for a few moments and then shifted to his face. Your stomach swooped low as you realized he had caught you looking, and you stared at him in mortification as his sneering, arrogant smile returned full force to his face. He looked so smug.

You had no idea your Avatar could even blush from embarrassment, but your cheeks burned all the same. You hurriedly turned your gaze away from him entirely, eyes squeezed shut.

He let out a low, unpleasant chuckle, clearly taking immense pleasure in your misery.

Asshole!

You stood for a few more minutes, back facing him as you pretended to examine the sky with incredible interest, waiting for your blush to fade and your stomach to settle. Eventually, you both sat on the grass once again, and you resumed your speech.

You talked about all things Na’vi related, from their connection to Eywa to what they wore, what they ate, their ceremonies, anything that popped into your head that you felt was important to mention.

In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t able to cover very much ground before your two hours were up and your lesson ended for the day.

By this time, Pandora’s light has returned from the eclipse, shining down brightly on both of you.

“So, how did I do?” you dare ask Quaritch.

“Well. Now I know what a Na’vi eats for breakfast, so. That’s something.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands, “I’m sorry, you said you wanted to know what they ate and everything! I promise we’ll eventually get into the more interesting and important things.”

Please don’t put me on toilet duty. I can do this!

Quaritch sighs, but says, “Don’t worry, Peach. We’ll get to the juicier parts someday. Learning to be one’s enemy is a long process, after all.”

He smacks his thighs, and the sound makes you jump, face moving away from your hands. Your nerves reignite in your stomach all over again as you realize it is now time for your lesson.

Why did I ever ask him to do this!? I should never have said anything, now I’m going to be Quaritch’s punching bag for the next few months! Idiot!

A sharp-toothed grin stretches over Quaritch’s face, and he leans in until he’s right in front of you, face close to yours. His yellow eyes bore into yours, and you can see your own terrified expression reflecting right back at you.

“Time for me to teach you, Peach.”

------

 “Alright, Peach. You know how to handle a knife?”

You think about it and shake your head.

“…Okay. Do you know how to throw a punch?”

Again, you shake your head.

Quaritch curses and takes a step back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the middle finger of his right hand between them as if praying for patience.

Both of you are standing in the middle of the small basket court, facing one another. You refuse to feel embarrassed by Quaritch’s reaction to your fighting skills, or lack thereof.

Not everyone can be a terrifying killing machine, asshole!

Quaritch seems to get the patience he was asking for, straightening up with a sigh.

“Back to the basics, then. Jesus.”

He steps up to you and places his warm, large hands on the bare skin of your shoulders. He shuffles you over closer to him, and you go willingly, body tense.

“First step in learning to defend yourself is to not be a pussy.”

Wow. Wonderful advice.

“You need to be firm in your stance and your attack, else your opponent will just be able to knock you off your feet before you can even land a hit. And if your limbs are loose, you’ll lose your balance and go flying just from your own force. Keep your core tight.”

He places a large hand firmly against the bare skin of your stomach and you suck in a surprised breath. His touch tingles through you in a way you’ve never felt before, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. He walks around toward your back, and you can see the veins in his arm shift when his hand flexes by his side.

“When you throw a punch, you need to keep your wrist straight and fully extend your arm each time. Make sure you step like this,” he demonstrates, “and pull your arm like this.”

“Keep your thumb behind your index and middle fingers but out of your fist, don’t stick your pinky out, and you want to hit your opponent with these knuckles right here. Got it?”

You nod slowly, making a fist following his instructions with your right hand. He nods once and then moves in front of you. He lifts his hands in the air, palms facing outward.

“Hit me.”

Already? But I barely even- alright, you know what, I don’t even care anymore.

You shake out your arms self-consciously and try to position your body in the way he had shown you. You pull your arms up, hands folding into fists, stance widening, and you lash your arm out at him with all the strength you can muster.

Your right fist smacks against his open palm with a satisfying thwack, and you grin, tossing your arms above your head at your success.

“Your form was good, Peach, but your fist felt like getting hit with a bug. You need to work on your strength, build up your muscles and your core. Try again.”

You nod, arm flying out and hitting his palm once more.

“No, you need to keep your arm tucked in, not flying out like an idiot bird with a broken wing. Again.”

You hit his hands over and over for the next half an hour as he corrects your form and stance. As he said, you need to build your strength up in this new body, but this was a good start. He has to get in pretty close once again to show you how to move your body, but other than he seems to keep his distance.

You know, this isn’t so bad!

You hit him again a few more times before he nods, satisfied, and drops his arms.

“Now you know how to hit somebody hard, Peach. Always go for sensitive places, like the nose, groin, ears, eyes, kidney, wherever you can reach. Got it?”

You lower your own arms, panting. Reaching out to punch him hadn’t taken much movement from your arms, but doing it over and over again for half an hour made them ache terribly. You struggle to catch your breath.

It had been embarrassing, admittedly, the first few times. You had felt shy and scared all at once, unsure of yourself and uneager to be anywhere near Quaritch, let alone close enough to touch him.

Then you’d lost most of the fear the second time he had lightly smacked your cheek when he got through your defensively positioned arms. They were pretty much love taps, practically pats, but it had lit an angry fire in your stomach. Your uneasiness turned to determination to land at least one hit on him, and you forgot all about your trepidation and that this was Quaritch you were tussling with.

From the way he had grinned and curled his fingers in a ‘come-hither’ gesture, that was probably what he had been trying to do.

He also probably just liked hitting you, the dickbag.

Quaritch nods, and you fully expect him to end the lesson early for the day. What you weren’t expecting was for him to reach down and pull a massive knife from its sheath on his right thigh, bringing it up toward the light for examination.

You lean back quickly, ears flicking to the sides of your head in alarm. You had thought your punching lesson had seemed tame for him! It really wouldn’t surprise you if he decided you needed a lesson on keeping your guard up and lunged at you.  

He won’t stab me, he won’t stab me, he won’t stab me, he won’t stab me-

“This here’s a bowie knife, seventeen inches of serrated steel strong enough to cut through bone.”

He waves it around carefully, smirking at your wide-eyed look of terror.

“And this…” he leans down to put the knife back in its sheath before pulling out something else from a different pocket on his right leg, “This is your knife.”

The little knife is comically small in his giant hand, more of a switchblade than anything else.

“That’ll be the knife you use for the next week at least, so don’t lose it.”

You pluck it from his hand gingerly, fingers folding around the base as you bring it up to your eyes for closer inspection. It looks bigger in your hand than it did in his, and you can see his initials, M.Q, engraved on its tiny metal handle.

Why the hell would a guy as big as Quaritch even need a knife this small? Does he use it as a toothpick?

Nonetheless, you’re glad he didn’t give you anything bigger to use for your first time. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it without stabbing yourself.

He shows you how to hold it, how to slash and stab, the proper way to stand and lunge with the little blade.

After another half an hour, he nods.

“Alright, now I want you to try me.” He says, pulling his arms up close to his chest and goading you on once again with a ‘come at me’ curled hand gesture, cocky smirk in place.

You balk. “You want me to charge at you with a knife already? We just got started!”

“Yep, sure did. What, you think you could actually touch me, let alone hurt me with that little thing? Ha!”

You wince. That’s a good point.

You do what he taught you to, adjusting your grip on the blade and positioning your body and feet into the dirt, tightening your core. You take a deep breath, strengthen your muscles, and then leap with a cry.

Quaritch shifts out of the way of your knife quicker than you had yet to see him move, simply stepping to the side with an unsurprised expression.

You go sailing past him, war cry turning panicked. You drop the knife and jerk up your arms to cover your face, turning away and squeezing your eyes shut.

Just as you start tilting toward the dirt, a hand grips the back of the collar of your shirt and pulls you upright before you can even realize you aren’t falling anymore. You remained positioned for impact, hands still in front of your face to cushion your fall even as you stand on your own two feet.

You open your eyes and blink, hands patting down your front as if to make sure no injury had been done to your person.

Quaritch lets go of your collar, knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“That was fuckin’ pathetic! It was like a wet paper bag was throwin’ itself my way. And where the hell did you learn to cry out like that, ‘cause it was fuckin’ embarrassin’.”

You pay no attention to his harsh words, still stunned you hadn’t face-planted into the dirt for once.

You look up at him, starry-eyed.

“That was amazing, Quaritch! You moved so fast I could barely see you! Have you always been that quick or is it new? Could you teach me how to dodge like that?”

He stares down at you, ears flicking back against the sides of his head. An odd expression crosses his face, almost as though he was taken aback by your wonder.

He clears his throat awkwardly, turning to the side to avoid your strong eye contact.

“That doesn’t matter, not with that pathetic performance. You need ta’ be firm, like I said, and not throwin’ your weight ‘round like a pussy. Come on, do it again.”

You reach down into the dirt to pick up your little knife, and you lunge at him again. He dodges all the same, but you surprise the both of you when you don’t stop, turning around and slashing in his direction.

Of course, the blade doesn’t even touch him, but it’s the thought that counts.

He grins at you, “There you go, Peach! Way to show some initiative, I’ll make a fine soldier out of you yet. Let’s go again, come on.”

And that’s how you end your morning, trying to stab Colonel Miles Quaritch with a knife the size of one of his fingers. You’d have never thought this was where you would be when you met him all those weeks ago, but hey, if learning from him would one day save your life, you’d do it gladly.

By the time two hours have passed, you’re sweating and panting for breath, hands on your knees. Your body was still new, and you hadn’t been in it long enough for you to get past light jogging and reflex training. Honestly, the fact that you were able to do all that moving without collapsing was a god-damn miracle.

You were so much faster in this form, so much more flexible and stronger. Still, that held no comparison to the trained, experienced combat vet you were practically playing with. Because that’s what this would be called, not fighting or even training. It was like playing tag or a slapping game, cause that’s all that happened for the entire lesson.

Quaritch, the fucker, doesn’t have a drop of sweat on him. His chest rose and fell evenly, and he rested one of his hands on the gun holster he had wrapped around his hips.

“You good, Peach? Not going to puke, are ‘ya?” You’d be flattered by his concern for your well-being if it weren’t for the mean, amused tone layering his voice when he spoke.

You stay bent over for a few more moments as you struggle to catch your breath. Eventually, you’re able to rise fully upright. You answer his question, even though you know it was rhetorical,  

“I-I’m good, I think.”

Just as you finish your sentence, your stomach growls angrily, as though enraged at being denied sustenance.

Ugh.

If you weren’t exhausted and beyond caring about what Quaritch thought of you, with your floppy, sweaty form and shitty punches, you would have been embarrassed. Now, though, the only thing you do is pout. Now, you were just a little pissed and tired at getting your ass thoroughly kicked for two hours.

“I’m hungry, can we be finished for the day?”

Quaritch rolls his eyes, unimpressed, but relents.

“Yeah, Peach, we’re done. Let’s get goin’.”

You grin, relieved, and your energy returns just slightly at the thought of lunch. You bound to his side, and he leads the way out of the courtyard and into the space beyond.

The day is in full swing, scientists, soldiers, robots, and trucks all bustling around Bridgehead as you follow Quaritch close on his heels to the mess hall.

You pass by all the tiny little humans, most of whom don’t even spare either of you a glance. Either because they were used to seeing ten-foot-tall Avatars walking around or because they were too busy to give a shit. Probably both, really.

You both have to duck as you walk through the doorway, Quaritch much more than you. You walk over to the table where you had snagged the muffins for breakfast earlier that morning, grabbing three of the sandwiches that were there now instead.

Quaritch grabs six of them, piling them all onto his plate.

You’ve just started scarfing yours down when a large hand whips out across your back, slamming into you. You inhale instinctively and start choking on your food, struggling to breathe. You turn around, fully ready to smash your sandwiches into the face of whichever fucker did that when you see Quaritch’s walking away, waving the spare hand not holding his food up behind him.

“See you ‘round, Peach.”

Oh. Well, at least he said goodbye.

You drink from the water bottle you’d snagged from the mass hall and eat your sandwiches as you walk to the showering station for Avatars. You stay under the pounding warm water longer than you probably should, enjoying the way it soothes the ache in your tense arms and shoulders.

After you’re done washing away the sweat and grime, you head back to the Avatar resting area, ready to be in your own body.

It had taken you a while to learn how to hold onto the brain link connecting your bodies; the first few weeks were the worst when you were learning to hold it longer and longer. Sometimes it would break, and you would slam back into your human body with a gasp, disoriented and head pounding.

Now, though, you were much better at holding onto the link for longer periods, even if it still gave you a headache.

You settle back into the pillows, closing your eyes and letting your mind go blank.

------

When you wake up in your human body, it always feels stuffy, not right, like you’re being squeezed into a tube. Your mouth is always cottony, too, and even though your body was simply laying down like you were asleep, your bones always ache when you get up as if you’ve been doing jumping jacks for however long you were in there.

You step out of the link bed, stretching your arms above your head and groaning. Tom is no longer in the linking center, but you didn’t expect him to be when there were others milling about who could watch over you.

You stand up and wobble a little bit, dizzy. Once it passes and you’re sure you can walk without smacking into anything, you make your way back toward your room, fully intent on sleeping for the rest of the afternoon before the conference in the evening.

Just as you leave the linking center, Margot runs into you, hair wild and eyes a little bit crazy. She grabs onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth lightly. You let her do whatever she wants, beyond caring.

“How did it go? Did he yell at you, did he flirt any? Ooh, did he smack your ass-? Hey!”

You shake her hands off, walking past her with a roll of your eyes.

“Jesus Christ Margot, you really need to get laid.”

She groans, following after you with quick steps, waving her arms around as she says, “I know! There’s just no one I’ve seen that I’m interested in, so I have to live through you and your sexy romance with Colonel Quaritch-”

You halt, turning around to grab her shoulders. You’re the one shaking her back and forth this time.

“Listen, Margot, there is nothing going on with Quaritch and me at all, nothing sexy, nothing flirty! We literally just met like two days ago, and he’s hated me ever since! Now stop saying stuff like that, or he’s going to overhear us, again, and kill us both. Okay? Okay.”

Margot whines, “Oh, but maybe there could be! If you were just a little less uptight and he was a little less homicidal, you guys could totally get together. I mean, you can’t deny that he might be interested, right? I totally saw the way he was looking at you yesterday!”

“Yeah, he was looking at me like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat.”

“Kinky.”

“No, Margot, not kinky! More like murderous! You’re starting to sound crazy, Margot, you’ve gotta do something before you start humping anything that moves.”

Margot blushes, finally feeling some sort of shame, and she nods, “Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just so pent-up, honey. Ugh! Okay, I’m going to try to relax somewhere, get outta my head for a little bit. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You pat her shoulder and say, “See you then, Margot.”

She gives you one last smile before she’s off, bounding down the hallway. You shake your head in fond exasperation, now even more tired than before, and walk back to your room. You adored Margot, loved her, but sometimes her exuberance made your head pound.

You unlock your door, kick off your shoes, and toss yourself onto the unmade sheets of your bed. One last thought floats through your mind just before you drift off to sleep.  

Maybe mornings with Quaritch won’t be as bad as I thought.

peachy keen. Part Two

[therocketeer0501]

IDW Starscream X Reader

Rendezvous Part 4

Warnings: none

You pack a few things to take to the lake with you as you plan to be out there until nightfall. There was no one to stop you from going on this little expedition of yours. You had left all of your friends behind when you and your ex had broken up. A new start in a new state. Of course your mother’s death had come around the same time you were looking for somewhere to go. The stars aligned and you ended up in nowhere Appalachia. You had tried to make friends here and get along with your new coworkers. Unfortunately, that had proven more difficult than you had expected. Making and keeping friends as an adult in an established area is hard. After you had piled all the necessities into your car, you gave one last look in the mirror. The unsightly scar on your forehead a glaring reminder that something awful had happened. You sigh as a heavy feeling weighs your shoulders down. It was time to find out exactly what.

“Those idiots! I told them to be careful around the falling ice! Those caves aren’t stable enough anymore!” Starscream slams a data pad against the wall next to Skywarp’s head. The other mech doesn’t flinch as if used to his brother’s outburst, shrugging and putting his hands up in surrender. “Listen I told em but they wouldn’t hear it and now one of us is going to have to report our losses to Megatron. Since you were in charge of this whole thing like you insisted…” Starscream didn’t let him finish. Shouldering past the purple mech to go accept the consequences of his most recent blunder.

The drive to the lake is uneventful and filled with dread. Turning onto that all too familiar dirt track, you notice that the snow was beginning to melt. Though winter was far from over, it was going to be hard to find any useful clues in the slush. You park and don your backpack and snow spikes. Slippery was an understatement. All you needed was to end up in the middle of that lake again. You shudder at the thought. Making your way around the lake, you notice a few things out of place. Broken tree branches, large gashes made in the ground partially covered in snow, and the oddest out of the bunch was the completely shattered boulders in the clearing nearby. When you were younger, you and your sibling used to come and play on these giant boulders. Now they look like they had been bulldozed. On closer inspection, some appear to have been melted. None of this made sense. If it was some new site for construction you’d see yellow tape right? Perhaps a few orange cones? You look up at the broken branches again. Something big came through here. Something impossibly big.

Wiping the energon off of his freshly split lip, Starscream skulks back to his habisuit. His wings droop tiredly behind him. He’s sick of this. Sick of Megatron’s temper. Sick of the incompetent fools he has to command. Sick of taking the blame. It’s as if his leader enjoys seeing him fail. Enjoys taking out his frustrations on him. As much ambition as he has, he can’t imagine a world where Megatron would willingly give up the power he has to the seeker. With a loud frustrated growl he throws the chair at his desk against the wall leaving a dent in the metal. Venting heavily he sends his fist into the wall next. Yelling his frustration to no one in particular. No one to listen because this is a brutal reminder that he’s alone. Always alone. As he leans his helm up against the wall, baring his denta in a grimace and shuttering his optics. His thoughts drift back to that little human. Reaching its tiny hand out to him. As if he were the only one that could fix them. He was the one who nearly froze them to death anyway. Of course it was his responsibility. Everything he touches ends up hurt. Pushing away from the wall he heads towards the exit. He wanted to be alone and he knew the perfect place.

It was nearly nightfall. Dusk had cast purple and pink light over the picturesque mountain lake you had been exploring all day. You sigh and put the notepad and pencil you had just been using to scribble on away. Nothing made sense and you feel like you had wasted a whole day trying to find something out. Kicking a rock as frustration pricks through you, you head back to your car defeated. That’s when you hear it. The distant whine of jet engines. Just as the sun dips below the horizon, plunging the lake in a deep inky blue. You turn towards the noise and reach for your flashlight. The sound was…familiar. You could swear it sounded just like how you remembered in your semiconscious state. You decide to hide amongst the destroyed rocks to see what was making that noise. What you saw made your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Rising of the moon and the revenant

Frollo x nuns! readers

warning : obsession, manipulation, drinking blood, murder happened (getting rid of a corpse), Frollo is a creep, no use of Y/n, fluff/comfort (as far as you can call it fluff)

Summary : The evening is over the night is here new prayers and the devil have laid on him. He wasn't punished he was promoted he got something he deserved for a long time. Her chaste heart doesn't know what shadow has fallen on her this night. Something that will become her dreadful nightmare.

info : The second chapter of the Frollo mini series i'm glad you liked the first part (thanks for any support) i had fun writing it and hope you enjoy reading it ;)

masterlist

Part.1, Part.3, Part.4, Part.5

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

Faith makes you strong. Faith can mean many things: faith in oneself, in one's family and friends, faith in humanity, in the king and queen of the throne. Or faith goes into the writings of the great philosophers who changed the world with their words, the deeds of heroes who made the world hold its breath.

Or it was the belief in heaven and hell in which both God and the devil ruled and reigned. They were places of infinite redemption and infinite pain.

On the clouds dressed in pure white singing with the angels and being at peace or in hell burning in the stages of hell, bleeding and being torn apart by demons, devils and other creatures that overcame human understanding and knowledge. But faith gives and takes. It can give you strength by simply praying or faith can take everything away if you go against God's plans.

But while God seemed to be everywhere in every life he had created, even the earth itself, the devil was all the darker. In the shadows, in the sins, in the sins of the seventh death, in the bodies of whores and drunken men. In the shadows of the streets pervaded by murder and lust.

The cats, bats, wolves and rats dark creatures who obeyed him who obeyed his demons who obeyed a revenant.

Revenants, the once living humans who could not help it until a certain time when they let sin into their hearts. The bite of evil was enough to poison people's hearts and make them scratch the inside of the coffin after their death.

Scratching and screaming could be heard until the revenants were dug up and set free or, better still, left to rot in the ground. But there was always someone who could escape from their coffin, a creature, a monster, a creature that had to be wiped out, a revenant like the ones in the church books. But it was just such a creature that got free, which Paris chose as his hunting ground for a while.

For a world of decades and centuries he saw the construction, the wars, the royal families rise and fall. Until his time came and he grew tired of it all...but there was one last thing he wanted to do.

He wanted a successor, he wanted a monster, a creature that would carry on his deeds with even greater bloodlust. A bloodlust that he had found in someone who would not be more perfect.

The judge Claude Frollo, a man of power and duty for the entire city. But above all, it was a man who represented the other side of his coin. He was the side of the living and the monster was the side of the dead.

He had been given many names, but when he gave him the kiss of death, his teeth drew blood and the poison of his own blood spilled into his youth, it was done and the dark shadows continued to move across the lands.

But now he had it, Frollo had it all back, he had life, he had strength and he had power. More power than he could ever have.

This bite of his faith that had been his back then when he had taken Quasimodo in because he was in awe of God, of the holy ones and still had something on the word of the Archdeacon. But now, when he had tasted the blood after coming home, something was completely different.

It was more aromatic and more intense than any alcohol or food he had ever tasted. Everything seemed more intense, the creaking of the wooden floorboards of his house all the louder, the sounds of the night ringing in his ears and his own voice strange.

It was unusual, like waking up from a trance after satisfying his bloodlust. ,,What fascinating powers the devil can give," he murmured and wanted to look at himself in the mirror in his room to see if he looked like the creature himself, but instead he backed away.

The mirror, the large gilded mirror, didn't show him...or didn't seem to show an image. Putting his hand to the cool material he saw only what his eyes saw he could look down and see that he was not a mass of bats but perhaps it was time, the record of the revenants was old but he must still have it somewhere.

,,Like years before by the power of blood" he whispered his thoughts to himself as he saw how he didn't look the same as two decades ago but the traces of age seemed to fade slightly as he searched through the books in the private library.

His eyes flew over the pages at a speed that almost made him dizzy everything seemed different and yet pleasantly different. It was the gift of the devil, the demon who had heard his prayers and voices...he had heard his demands for her.

His beloved, his nun, his one and only, whom he had craved and wanted ever since he had laid his eyes on her. It was natural that someone so good as he had been doing his duties and his job as judge of the city for decades was rewarded with things beyond materialistic coins and other objects.

It was his reward from the god of the underworld, the hell that controlled everything dark and negative, who heard him because God was already in his heart. ,,He wants me to bring you to me, to ruin your sins," he wandered on with his thoughts, not realizing how he was almost effortlessly emerging into the shadows of his house without realizing it.

It was a power he had yet to realize, a power he had yet to harness, a power he had yet to use after he had gained it through work and his righteousness. He continued to teleport through the house in the dark until the cold smell hit his nose.

The stable boy. He had killed him just as the Judge saw it as he walked out of his house into the shadows still not quite sure what his power was but when he saw the bath the body parts scattered in the straw and the dark red looking black without the moonlight he wrinkled his nose at the smell of what he had done. Well, I'll take care of that later, he thought, but left Snowbald in the stable and let his hand wander over the animal.

The stallion was warm and full of life he listened to the quiet heartbeat even though Snowbaldd realized that something was wrong and nudged him which made Frollo smile, ,,You felt it, didn't you?" he asked the animal who just snorted and waited to see if an owner would come up. But why go up at night when he could do something much better, when he could do what he could only do during the day...he could finally get to her.

Turning away from his house, he looked around him, his neighborhood was a little further away from the common people anyway, from the rich only a few streets away, he was relatively alone. No one would see him, not even if he walked with the darkness, he knew exactly where he had to go. Where she lived. Where she slept.

Focusing on her location and a blink of an eye later he found her in the darkness neither it seemed like a simple shift but it was longer but before you realize it and the tingle appeared it was over. ,,Fascinating," he murmured and continued through the darkness, running and teleporting further and further, spared even by the light of the moon.

He was the darkness, he was the horror, he was now the evil Paris had to fear and he would use his new power to get it. His figure flitted through the night, sneaking from the streets to the alleys and houses until he arrived at the attic apartment below, where there was a flower store, pretty and colorful by day and dark by night. But he knew that she lived upstairs under the roof with the iron balcony that gave her a view of the cathedral.

Standing below, he concentrated on the balcony, knowing that he was coming up there. Concentrating again on the dark, he dissolved for a moment into the dark shadows and arrived at the top of the balcony. Looking behind him, he had to suppress a grin as he realized how strong he was, how good he would be, how powerful he was.

But his attention went to the room when he heard her heartbeat he was quiet she seemed to be sleeping maybe dreaming but most of all he didn't notice her when he went into her room and emerged from the darkness behind her curtains. ,,So innocent...blood-rich...heartfelt...so desired" Frollo mumbled as he saw her nun's robe folded on the chair but not the rosary that went to her bed a simple but sufficient for her he saw that she was holding something under the covers.

She was lying on her side, her eyes closed and her hair visible, which was usually hidden under the dark fabric. Feeling this newness in him, he wanted her even more than before, this time he wanted her completely from her body to her mind to her blood and her soul. He wanted her completely for himself.

Leaning over her, he placed his deathly cold hand on her cheek for the first time. He touched an angel for the first time, he seemed to feel the holy scripture, what he always wanted.

He had faith in his hand, the heaven he prayed for, he had her. Moving over her cheek he slowly traced the shape of her lips came closer to her his body moved to her bed quietly inaudible.

She slept in her sweet head, probably things were going on that would soon be filled by him. She smelled sweet not surrounded by incense or the scent of wax from the candles, no old beeb sides no she smelled sweet when she was not surrounded by the house of god. It was a sweet smell that radiated from her heart.

It was beguilingly captivating and he wanted it he seemed to want to hold it in his hands felt his fangs forming like when he had attacked the stable boy.

He could have her here and now, he could take her here and now, and yet as he came closer to her neck his hand held her even if she was asleep and didn't notice him, he wouldn't allow a disturbance. It would be easy to take her, to bite her, to drink the sweetness that attracted him next to her.

He came closer to her neck, his teeth scraping the skin, drawing blood slightly, but then he felt a sting. His hand, which had lifted the blanket, revealed her beautiful body adorned with a light white nightgown.

Her body so accessible he would have wanted to know when she was standing how she looked moving slightly back and forth in the moonlight when the wind blew around her.

But as beautiful as she was, the feel in his hand as he gripped her hand was real, it was something like it reminded him of his old life as if he had lived in this new existence forever.

Incredulous, he pulled himself back into the shadowed window and looked down at his hand in disbelief, a burn mark was visible but already healing. The rosary flashed through his mind as he approached her again and saw with a consumed smile that bared his sweet teeth that he was healing away from her.

In her hand was the rose cross, his gift of holiness before he engaged with the devil, it was pure irony. ,,You didn't know, dear?" he asked the sleeping woman and let his hands wander over her body once more, coming closer to her but shaking himself from the rosary, it was uncomfortable, it still seemed to burn slightly but it taught him lessons like a little boy, he had to start to understand it all.

Before he left her with a kiss on her lips, holding back his desire and unable to taste it, he would. He disappeared from her room, the street and the houses and went back to his own house.

He disappeared from the dark into his home again and spent the last hours of the night reading and writing things down in books and writings.

The hours went by and it seemed as if everything was passing all the more quickly, as if all life was passing all the more quickly. He was still lying in his room when the rooster's cry and the people's voices slowly became louder and more present.

,,The people are waking up again without knowing what has happened," he murmured as he looked out, his eyes having to adjust a little to the brightness, but as he held his hand in the light, not knowing whether it would burn or crumble to dust, it was extinguishable.

It was much warmer than usual on a late spring day but he could stand it as he didn't have to go outside that often. But something came to his mind when he saw the town guards patrolling and taking up their positions again, the stable boy.

The light one who happened to be lying brutally murdered with him, ,,It's a tragedy such a young life someone must be held responsible...search the wagons of the traveling people, search the bars and strengthen the guards in the poor parts of the city...I want honesty!" he told the commander of the city guard and saw that the blond felt sorry and uncomfortable as they stood in front of the judge's stable.

Froll had waited a few moments before running to the guard post, out of breath and shaken, he had told them what had happened, fearing for himself and his horse that someone was after him.

It was a simple matter for the guard to take the body and only a few hours later his stable looked like a new stable boy had been found and Phoebus was dealing with the case.

Once again his position of power proved to bring him more than just influence it was his control over the entire city. But he didn't have control over it much to his chagrin because after still having to deal with all the paperwork of his job he got on Snowball and rode to the church knowing she was gone knowing she came to the church from her job at the orphanage to help out where she could.

The church he called into his head on the stairs it was only hours ago was almost unbelievable if he didn't feel the bites himself. As he left Snowball and stepped into the church, a shudder came over him.

It was fear, discomfort and danger that told him he shouldn't be here it was completely different and yet....there she stood by the candles feeling them so that the people could mourn their dead.

He walked over to her, leaning on the benches and pillars every now and then when his body stopped in fear, the gazes of the angels and holy figures seemed to judge him. It was a shock, but she was his angel when he came to her, she revealed herself to him and came over to him.

But as soon as he came to him, he saw her wearing a second layer of fabric around her neck, ,,Good morning my dear, I hope you slept well...if I may, you look a little tired," he said and pointed to the bench to sit down, which she did, folding her hands in her lap.

He saw her pondering as her gaze went over the colors and finally to him, even though she always lowered her gaze, almost not noticing how formal and from she was.

Before she finally admitted, ,,Yes, I had a nightmare, nothing serious it seemed like shadows were plaguing me," she admitted and clasped her rosary that hung around her neck tighter around the expensive materials and prayed in silence.

It was the same tool that healed him from her and perhaps this was good for a moment, ,,I think the food at my place will give you a good night's sleep, can I expect you tonight?" he asked and slowly rose from the bench again, not only did he feel the fear leave him but his desire for his new food was gone and he had to strike again.

He saw the young nun stand up, let go of her rosary and move slightly, answering him with a ,,I'll be there at eight o'clock, Judge Frollo." She set a time that suited him, so he had plenty of time to prepare everything and feast on a new victim, blaming it on another accident or fugitive.

He turned away with a nod and said to her last, ,,Shadows are only shadows my dear they always surround us" before he left her back in the church and hurried out of the sacred building faster than he wanted to and was glad to be back with Snowbald on whom he mounted and took the reins.

The sun is getting too hot, he thought and ran his hand over his forehead as he looked up at the sky and steered his stallion back towards his house.

His new body had advantages, very good advantages, advantages that made him even more of what he was meant to be. The judge of the world a world full of sins.

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

@oceansrose2002 , @aliensthegreat , @siwucha , @sweet-lil-truffla

[dailydemonspotlight]

Nyami Nyami - Day 82

Race: Dragon

Alignment: Light-Chaos

July 30th, 2024

A lot of religions put great importance on rivers. This is for hopefully obvious reasons, especially if you've taken an 8th grade history class, as sources of water, and especially rivers, are where many civilizations sprout- water is an incredibly important part of life, and rivers give way to several things, whether it be watering for crops or trade routes to access the rest of the world. However, none put as much importance on rivers as several African religions- whether it be the centerpiece of Egyptian mythology being the Nile, to a major deity of the Yoruba people being the river orisha Oshun, or even today's Demon of the Day, an incredibly important god to the Tonga people- the god of the river Zambezi, Nyami Nyami.

Alternatively spelt Nyaminyami, a corruption/pet name of the original 'Nyama yamaninga ninga,' this snake has some big shoes to fill, being one of the central gods of its religion, and one with iconography everywhere. As a deity representing the fourth largest river in all of Africa, and one that is incredibly important to the Tonga people, a people-group who arrived and settled around it at roughly 300 CE, Nyami Nyami is a big deal. Commonly depicted as a large snake or sea serpent whose length is beyond estimation, this god provides sustenance and survival to the Tonga people, being in control of the river it presides over, Zambezi. As the snake swims by, the river would stain red in his wake, though this wasn't a bad omen- no, it was far from it.

In times of struggle, the serpent would rise from its home deep under the waves and allow its people to cut from its skin to feast, giving way to the meaning of its name- 'pieces of meat-' before heading back under into the watery depths. As the controller of the eb an flow of the river, he would ensure that the crops were watered and that the people he watched over were thriving, and he did this for hundreds of years... until when the white man arrived. He went into hiding, though still controlled the river, and assisted from afar until 1955, when a dam was beginning to be planned overlooking the river. As the river had began to rise and his home was trapped under the waves, he was already getting annoyed, but the dam was the final straw.

After all, during the time of its construction, as legends go, his wife had visited downstream, and was now trapped behind it. This, alongside everything else- him being forced into hiding, and his home's submersal- finally inspired his wrath. The construction of the dam was famously hit by disaster after disaster, to the point many people say it may be cursed- even as recent as 2023, a wall collapsed inside. During the planning phase in 1950, a massive hurricane hit the river, causing it to swell by 7 meters, and once it was over, the entire flood plain was covered in animal carcasses. The survey team sent to check out the mess were then wiped out utterly by a sudden landslide. This unprecedented event was even stranger than just that, though- the cyclone that had whipped the river so high was from the Indian ocean, far beyond the landlocked African river. However, this was only the beginning of Nyami Nyami's wrath, showing how powerful the serpent was in his inconsolable rage of humanity's interference in both his and his people's lives.

The dam's construction, while seen as unilaterally good by most involved in planning, involved the displacement of the Tonga people away from the basin of the river so the dam could function- the place they had lived for years, raised so many families within, had been stripped away for the purpose of building a massive source of energy for colonizers. This, rightfully so, was seen by many of the Tonga people as unjust, and as the dam had begun construction, they called upon Nyami Nyami again.

Later on in 1955, on Christmas Eve, yet another unprecedented event struck the country- a massive flash flood that hadn't happened before or since completely broke the foundations being built, wiping out several people and halting progress for days. However, when construction persisted, yet another flood struck in 1956, and finally, in 1958, one last one hit the river, a massive rainstorm turned flash flood that was purported to only happen once every 10,000 years! The flood caused several explosions to ring out throughout the dam, leading to yet more lives being lost. Eventually, though, the dam was finished. Nyami Nyami's wrath had failed, ultimately, but the damages were many, as over 80 people had lost their lives. Hence, this is why you never piss off a river deity.

Now, in terms of SMT representation, it's an incredibly faithful design to the many Nyami Nyami statues erected around the river, a coiled snake with a fish's head. While I somewhat wish we got to see the great serpent depicted in the myths surrounding Nyami Nyami, this is a great pick for his design in general, as it's literally just a blue-tinted version of the exact statues one may see depicting this serpent. Overall, Nyami Nyami is an excellent design for a river god who tried to protect a displaced tribe of people during their darkest hour, and though he failed, we really do have to acknowledge how wild it was that several once-in-a-lifetime events hit the dam in such short succession. Nyami Nyami's wrath must not go understated.

[goodlucktai]

i’ve got my eye on you

tmnt 2k12 pairing: don & mikey word count: 2k title borrowed from say yes to heaven by lana del ray

read on ao3

x

“Mikey?” Donnie says, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. “Can I talk to you?”

Mikey looks up from the dough he’s kneading with round eyes, more bewildered than anything. No one ever asks if they can talk to Mikey. His presence in his family’s lives is like sunlight falling on the planet, warm and touching everything and taken for granted. They can always talk to Mikey.

So Don’s question is a weird one, but Mikey doesn’t mention it.

“Pull up some counter, Dee,” he offers instead, patting at the one square foot of the surface that isn’t covered in flour. His fingers leave little clouds behind. “I’m almost done.”

Donnie props his hip against the island and leans there to watch his little brother work. Mikey’s ADHD is textbook in a lot of ways, unpredictable in many others; it’s definitely been a fun learning curve for his family. Don did a lot of research. He’s read that generally people with Mikey’s disorder tend to struggle with tasks like cooking, that it can be an outright Herculean task remembering to eat or even just mustering the energy to feed themselves.

But Mikey loves his kitchen. He gravitates towards it in all his different moods. It gives his pinballing thoughts and restless hands something constructive to focus on with a clear and present reward at the end.

Right now he seems pleased with the dough and gathers it up in a neat little ball before transferring it to a greased mixing bowl and covering it tightly with plastic wrap. When the bowl has been safely stored in the fridge to proof, Donnie joins Mikey in wiping down the counter, mostly for something to do with his hands.

Something’s baking in the oven. Music is playing on Mikey’s phone across the room, acoustic and downbeat and soothing. This room is where everyone in their entire extended family comes to feel safe, even if they don’t know or won’t admit it.

“So listen,” Don finally says. “About earlier. During the race?”

A grin splits Mikey’s face, likely remembering all the fun he had. They’d been looking forward to the ninja race for weeks, ever since Leo first floated the idea.

Leo has come a long way as sensei. It was hard at first, finding his feet, acclimating to this additional burden piled on top of all the ones he already had to carry, but maybe not as hard as it should have been. Leo has always been more of a second parent than a sibling to the rest of them. He’s always been the one they ran to first, even when Splinter was alive; the boy who had to grow up too fast, the one who tried his dad’s oversized jacket on over and over through the years until one day he was surprised to find he had outgrown it.

All this to say—Leo can always tell when his little siblings and pseudo-siblings are due for a break. He poured hours into planning this event, all for his tiny clan of six, and it really showed. The race was part relay, part scavenger hunt, stretching for miles back and forth across Manhattan.

They drew cards out of a bucket to decide pairs, divvying up into three teams of two. When Casey drew the card that matched Mikey’s, he lit up with a manic grin and whipped his head around, a reaction Donnie wasn’t expecting.

“Oh hell yeah!” the human whooped, lifting both hands over his head for a double high-five. “We’re gonna make this night our bitch!”

“Language!” Leo barked, scandalized, like they each hadn’t already heard—and said—a lot worse.

Mikey, for his part, slapped his palms against Casey’s, giggling madly. Donnie looked between the two of them with a frown forming on his face. He had the distinct feeling that he missed something. They all tended to live out of each other’s pockets anymore, trauma-bonding at its worst. Its best? Whatever. If Mikey and Casey were buddies, Donnie would know.

They were both adrenaline junkies, sure. They both liked going fast, living on the edge. As a ninja clan, that was sort of the norm anyway.

But Mikey in particular could outrun anyone in his family any day of the week. Nothing moved fast enough for him. They tried to keep up with him, but sometimes he got too far ahead. He wanted to walk on his hands to feel the grit of asphalt on his palms and the blood rush to his head, or spin in circles in front of the stove while the water boiled, or cartwheel during katas because morning meditation ran too long and his full quota of focus was all used up.

Understimulated, touch-starved, eager for attention, desperate for—something.

Donnie just didn’t realize how desperate until he and Leo crossed paths with Casey and Mikey halfway through the race. From the rooftop, Donnie could see that the token the other boys were gunning for was on the opposite side of the BQE—across five lanes, up on the massive signage structure towering above the expressway. They were on the wrong side when they spotted it.

Smugly, Donnie thought, Tough luck—they’ll have to find a way around. That’s gonna cost them some time.

And then Mikey flew over the guardrail, sprinting straight out into traffic.

Donnie’s heart jumped up into his throat and stayed there.

He was rooted to the spot, like someone watching a train barrel down the tracks toward an inevitable collision. His body forgot how to breathe.

It took his little brother all of fifty seconds to dodge box trucks and SUVs like it was a children’s game, to a chorus of blaring horns from drivers that did not slow down. An eighteen-wheeler missed him by a foot.

Mikey scaled the structure, retrieved the token, and shoved it into the pocket of his over-sized hoodie. Then he waved both arms back at Casey, and pointed down at the guardrail immediately behind him, clearly indicating that they should regroup underneath the overpass. They both disappeared from view on their respective sides of the freeway, off to the next leg of the scavenger hunt.

Don just stood there numbly watching cars go by until Leo doubled back for him.

Raphael and April won the race by all of four minutes—and with it bragging rights to last the next two months, unfortunately for everyone else—but Mikey was in high spirits the whole way home anyway, bouncing with every step. Their brothers must have assumed it was those endorphins from a full night of high-speed play doing their job.

Leo rubbed the top of Mikey’s head with his knuckles fondly, and Raph said something like, “God, you just don’t slow down, do ya?” because they had no idea. They didn’t see it.

Donnie trailed silently at the back of the group, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, his eyes, his hands. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Mikey, afraid of what might happen if he let his guard down for even a second, replaying that scene on the expressway over and over and over. It took him hours to muster the courage to finally approach his baby brother in the kitchen.

And now they’re standing here together, and Mikey is humming under his breath, hands beginning to tap restlessly on the countertop. Donnie’s going to lose him in a matter of minutes. Trying to think of a delicate way to say it is getting him nowhere. He takes a page out of Raph’s book and just barrels in.

“I saw you run across the BQE for a token,” he blurts.

Mike tilts his head the way Icky does when she hears something she doesn’t understand. On one hand, he doesn’t deny he did it. On the other, more alarming hand, he also looks blatantly confused about why Donnie thinks it’s worth a discussion.

“We had to get the tokens to win,” Mikey points out, like Don isn’t the one who helped Leo with the rules and regulations.

Clenching his fists, and then folding his arms so Mikey can’t see his fists are clenched, Donnie says, “You wanted to win that bad, Mike?”

He can’t stop seeing the speeding cars; the smear of headlights in the dark; Mikey weaving his way across the lanes, his figure tiny and almost indistinguishable from the rooftop where Don was watching.

Donnie’s remarkable imagination provided the additional details: the way displaced air would have sucked at Mikey’s clothes at each near miss. The sting of the hot asphalt under his feet. The passing lights lighting up his face in fits and bursts, for seconds at a time, and maybe something distracted him—maybe there was a piece of glass or metal on the road and it cut him or he tripped—maybe a reckless driver merged lanes without warning—maybe, maybe, maybe one of a hundred things happened and Mikey was captured or maimed or killed, ripped away from his family because of a stupid, needless risk he took during a game.  

They’ve been dragged through war, outer space, time travel. They’ve all been hurt before, in big ways and small ones. It's just. It’s different this time, because it was a game.

Maybe Donnie should be angry at Casey for enabling this behavior. Casey may not be their brother by blood but he’s their brother by every other known metric science has to offer and he should have dragged Mikey off the expressway by the hood of his stupid pink sweatshirt and lit into him for being so reckless the way Leo, April, Raph and Donnie all would have.

But Casey has his own reasons for doing what he does—a dead mom, an alcoholic father, a little sister CPS took away—and if he were a regular, neurotypical, well-adjusted teenager, he never would have put on his painted mask in the first place. He never would have fallen into Donnie’s family.

Casey would have been the one to run into traffic if Mikey hadn't beaten him to it.

Like recognizes like. That’s why they were thrilled to be on each other’s team. They’re both chasing something. They both have too much going on inside their heads to ever just be still.

And Mikey is always all smiles, always the first to offer his siblings a hug or a shoulder to lean on or a safe place to hide from the rest of the world and something sweet to eat in the meantime. Mikey, who hasn’t cried in front of his brothers once since the night their father died, who hasn’t come into Donnie’s lab after a nightmare in even longer than that. He smiles and plays and supports everyone and gives them reasons to run and shout and vent frustrations and groan in exasperation and laugh until they get sick.

No one has to ask the sun to shine, it just does that. And it will until it runs out of fuel, some five billion years from now. The star death was always going to be inevitable. Constant output, finite resources. Nuclear fusion that will hopefully last for as long as it needs to, but not forever.

The sun will get tired one day, and then it’s not going to shine anymore.

“Dee?” Mikey says loudly, in a tone that makes it sound like he’s been saying it over and over. Donnie blinks and he’s back in the kitchen, and Mikey is in front of him, more than a bit confused, more than a bit worried, but here and safe and whole.

Not even a scratch. If Don hadn’t seen it, he never would have known it happened.

He unfolds his arms and opens them. He doesn’t need to say anything for his little twin to spring forward, their plastrons colliding with a solid knock that would have winded a human person. The counters are clean but Mikey is still covered in flour and so Don is covered in flour now, too, and it’s wafting to the floor in tiny cloudbursts every time they move.

It’s the kind of mess Splinter would have made them stop and clean up. But it’s not hurting anything to let the kitchen be a little messy. And it’s Mikey’s kitchen. It’s the one place in the world where what he says goes.

He winds his smaller arms around Donnie’s shell and squeezes as tight as he can. Smushes his cheek against Don’s shoulder because he isn’t tall enough to hook his chin over it the way he’d probably like to. He’s warm and he smells like butter and baked bread and summer and boy. He’s survived every single thing he’s ever done.

Donnie closes his eyes and tries to replace the lights he can still see on the freeway with the ones here at home.  

“Can I be on your team next time?” he says.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it,” Mikey agrees instantly. His voice is shaped so much like a toothy grin that Don can see it without looking. Mike doesn’t even know why he’s promising it, just that Donnie needs him to. “We’ll do a clean sweep, nobody’ll know what hit ‘em. B Team’s the Best Team, baby!”

He’s everything warm and light and safe about Donnie’s whole world, and he doesn’t seem to understand how dark every day would be without him. He doesn’t know what he would be taking from his family if he took himself away.

Donatello’s other siblings are self-destructive in obvious ways. Michelangelo, who is loud and obnoxious and has never known a secret he could keep for longer than a day, is somehow more subtle about it.

But now Donnie sees it. He knows what to look for.

[blueikeproductions]

Once the mightiest weapon at the Decepticons’ disposal, after the loss of the Allspark in Witwicky (but before the birth of Twitch & Phoenix’s Terrans), the Constructicons were among the few Decepticons to switch sides alongside Megatron.

The Constructicons joined Grapple’s unit in reconstruction efforts alongside humans after the Great War concluded on Earth, finding when given the choice, they preferred CONstruction over DEstruction.

This wouldn’t last as Mandroid required troops and likeminded brilliance for his plans, and begrudgingly accepted he needed some Transformers to do so. Using his Arachnamechs, equipped with Megatron’s old Robo Smasher protocols, he managed to reprogram the Constructicons to serve him. While loyal, Mandroid finds himself butting heads with Hook over creative differences. Together they managed to build Mandroid’s crown jewel in his efforts to rid Earth of the Transformers: GigaZarak.

Devastator served as a consistent enforcer for Mandroid, secretly enjoying getting to return to demolition of the Autobots. His most notable roles were being equipped with excavated relics like the Resonance Blaster to destroy the Terrans & Autobots, and a botched scheme that almost saw Mandroid’s remaining son Ethan die in the hospital he was recovering from.

On top of Devastator’s usual brute strength, he has a unique Arachnamech partner named Scorpulator, that can Transform into an equippable arm cannon.

—

Sky Lynx was the proudest and egotistical of the Autobots during the Great War on Earth. He took down the last of the Decepticons’ super weapons, the Griffin, which was buried in some plains outside Witwicky.

Unlike his G1 self, this Sky Lynx isn’t space fairing, so no one could simply climb aboard and blast off to Cybertron. Instead, Sky Lynx Scanned a jumbo jet, and took a job at the Witwicky airport to ferry passengers. He likes being useful, but like Winston from the 90’s Mummy movie, he yearns for adventure and glory like the old days. He gets this chance when the Robbie & Grahm’s Terrans appear before him at his hanger to stop his old rival, the Griffin, that Mandroid and the Constructicons reactivated to wipe out the Autobots, loading it with relic weapons Mandroid had been collecting.

After defeating the Griffin once more, Sky Lynx later on helps Devastator, Ethan Meridian and the kids hold back Terratronus when Starscream uses her to crush Witwicky.

[noforkingclue]

Hey, how are you. First of all i hope you're having a happy holidays. Secondly i saw that you had opened requests again. If it's okay may i please request a Dark!Professor x mutant!reader request where the reader manages to escape from Charles and goes on the run, Charles uses Cerebro to find the reader and he does and goes to where the reader is. He then causes an incident which distracts the reader from keeping him out but that split second he uses his telepathy to control the reader and maybe uses his telepathy to make the reader sleep (or mind control them to go with him to waiting transportation. ,(Or what ever idea you like) before taking them back to the mansion where he would ensure that you don't ever think about escaping again.

If this idea make you feel uncomfortable then that's okay, I do hope I'm not coming across as being bossy or rude.

Have a great day/night :) happy holidays

Note: requests are currently closed

Thank you so much for the request! This request doesn't make me uncomfortable at all.

I hope you like the fic!

Title: Changing Minds

Warnings: dark fic, mind manipulation, forcibly changing memories

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You had always been so wonderfully strong. Strong enough to resist Charles for so long. Charles looked down at your sleeping figure and stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. You didn’t flinch away at his touch when you would’ve done so in the past. At the same time, you didn’t lean into it either which was what Charles craved.

It amazed him how you had managed to slip through his carefully constructed net. To leave your safe, warm home and venture out into a place where humans were so willing to discriminate against you. You were protected in Charles’ arms and yet you constantly resisted him.

It had taken him a while to hunt you down, not nearly as quickly as he would’ve liked. He had the school to run and he also didn’t want to go charging in without a plan. Too soon and you’d be too guarded, too long and he ran the risk of losing you forever. Still, eventually you got too comfortable (sooner than Charles was expecting) and that’s when he struck.

You looked so peaceful on your bed, Charles lying next to you. He curled up and rested his head on your chest, closing his eyes at the rise and fall of your chest calmed him down. He hadn’t been sleeping well since you ran away and it was a relief to finally know you were safe. It felt good to have you back, to once against hold you in his arms.

Although this raised a point that Charles had been avoiding.

He raised his head so he was hovering just above you. He could feel you breath ghost over his skin and he gently pressed his lips against yours. He had been resisting doing this for so long, determined not to change any part of you. He hated doing this to you. The look of betrayal on your face when you realised what he might’ve done was almost enough to make him stop doing it. However, this time there was no putting it off.

He raised a hand and pressed it against your forehead. He closed his eyes at all the happy memories you had when you were away from him. His hand shook and he closed his eyes tightly as your true feelings came to the surface. He just wanted to protect you, was that really so bad? If you had just listened to him, listened and didn’t resist, then he wouldn’t have to do this.

Carefully he implemented himself in your memories. Fast and panicked driving became leisurely road trips. Staying in dingy, run down motels became staying in luxurious five star hotels. All the aching loneliness you felt while being on your own melted away as he placed himself in your memories. All the thoughts of running away from him and the fear you felt for him was wiped from your memory.

Charles really didn’t want to change any part of you but to keep you safe and by his side he would alter the whole world.

[garblixdligzoog]

[CONNECTED. LOCATION: SARRAGUS-6, ZERO'S CRATER.]

-nally found you on this planet. Tell me, what do you know about these... "Civilizations?"

All civilizations in the Universe have a tech rating called the "Civilization Tech Scale" or CTS. Ranging from 1 to 10.

CTS-1 is your basic underdeveloped civilization, weapons like bows and arrows, swords etc. from neolithic to medieval.

CTS-2 is steampower, electricity, etc. Gunpowder guns like flintlocks and muskets are the main weapons.

Aah, I miss the days of ships sailing around, I used to sink about 200 a day because I got bored...

CTS-3 is where earth is currently at. Electrical devices and vehicles are made. Mediocre space travel with costly rockets, primitive robotics. Nanobots are being researched for medical purposes.

CTS-4 is where robotics reach human-like movement, prosthetics are capable of moving more human-like as well. Primitive laser weapons are being worked on. Space travel is less costly with prototype spaceships.

Prototype...? Why does that sound familiar? Maybe it's something to do with Project NEO...

Project what?

Classified information, comrade.

CTS-5 Is where laser weaponry is somewhat understandable. Fully automated mechs are capable of war, though very costly. Space travel is still expensive, few spaceships are given to rich folk. Nanobots are medically available.

CTS-6 is when Space travel and Laser weaponry is perfected, and space travel is publicly available. Slow, but effective. FTL drives are being researched in this era. Power armor is being researched.

CTS-7 is where Gars is at. Basic forcefields, FTL drives and power armor are available. Robotics are perfected further for surgical precision. First aid kits are fitted with medicinal nanopaste for fast healing. Neurosurgery is now extended to nerves.

Gnarpians? Like that one ship we found in Roswell?

Ugh, why did you take the offer of running as a rep for S.P.E.C again?

Because an infiltrator destroyed Area 51 with a self-destructive ship. We had to move to Saath desert because of that.

Right... Let's continue.

CTS-8 is the natural limit for most if not all civilizations, where nanobots are both capable of construction and medicinal purposes. Planet-destroying weapons are possible, but very costly. Breaking the limit of this civilization tier is near-impossible. Very few civilizations are here.

CTS-9 is the penultimate technological advancement. People are starting to harness stars for power, understanding the fabric of the cosmos and learning to unravel it's secrets is being worked on, mass teleportation is readily available for fleets, nanofabrication has reached it's peak with food, water, basic needs. Most things that complicate simple tasks are obsolete. Consciousness can be uploaded to massive machines. Only one civilization was able to reach this state.

The Ancients or "Idonin", were wiped out for an unknown reason. Maybe Zaagra had something to do with it...

You keep mentioning this... "Zaagra". Who is he?

It's not on a need to know basis, Sergo. Like that project... Knee yolk?

CTS-10 is the peak of civilization and technology itself. Space and time are nothing to them, they have transcended beyond these coils and are considered gods among men. Hunger, thirst, bodily needs are a thing of the past. and they are capable of copying their own consciousness into small USB-like devices. And are capable of weaving new bodies for them to live in. As such, they are effectively immortal as long as they have backups of their own consciousness.

And that is basically it, Sergo. All you need to know about technological tiers. Gathering information on alien species is... Difficult. But I'll find some weaknesses.

Right, comrade... But I have a few questions.

I'm all ears.

Why are you hiding? Is there something you're afraid of?

I'm afraid of nothing. Rather, I got numb... I'm just hiding from a certain someone, they do not need to interfere.

Your plan to merge yourself with the entirety of- ...You truly are crazy. Speaking of. What are you gonna do with Argus Blackbone's manor? There are overseer cultists running rampant.

Argus? You mean general Argus? He hasn't been around lately. I just want to see what they do with that merged Overseer before I do anything.

Although I am detecting high amounts of Dark Energy coming from gars... I thought I would never see another Antheris incident again...

Reminds me of the time me and my companion fought against Az-

Comrade, why is your communicator active? Zomeone iz liztening?

Really now? I must've bumped it when I went to get my hot cho-

[DISCONNECTED]

[yami268]

To Build a Love Nest

Summary: The gang finds Xelloss building a house.

A/N: Hey @xellychan040! I'm your @slayersweek Secret Santa this year and I went with a fic plus illustration of Xellina with unconventional courting. I hope you enjoy it!

To Build a Love Nest

Lina stretched her arms over her head as she and the others strolled through the outskirts of town. It had been a couple of days since they arrived there, and after some rest, they were ready to leave. But before that, they were looking for Xelloss who happened to be with them at the time. Recently, he seemed to be acting strange, more so than usual. He had been looking at architectural books and had been seen with the local carpenter recently. Luckily, the same carpenter told them that he had been heading into the forest. So now they were trying to find him. But they weren’t prepared for what they saw when they made it to where he was.

There, amid a clearing, was what appeared to be a building site. It was easy to assume so since there was a pile of construction wood along with the foundation and flooring. Xelloss was also there, hammering away at a wall frame. The sheer sight of seeing him do something so out of character made them speechless, to say the least.

“Xelloss, what are you doing?” Lina finally asked despite guessing the obvious answer anyway.

“Oh, building a house.”

“We can see that.” Zelgadis crossed his arms as he stared at him. “We would like to know why you are building a house.”

He stopped hammering for a moment before turning to the group. “I’m planning on courting Miss Lina with it. Though the rest of you are welcome as well.”

Hearing that, they all became very flabbergasted, Lina most of all. It was obvious that he did have a distinct attraction to her, albeit a peculiar one. But for him to build a house just to court her seemed unconventional, even for him. In any case, he was hammering away at the wall frame while they remained silent.

After a while, Amelia spoke up, “Mister Xelloss, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you trying to court Miss Lina with a house?”

“Well, you see…” He stopped again and turned to the group. “I was at a library looking for information on how humans traditionally court each other. I did ask one of the assistants there and he must have misheard me because he came back with a book on birds’ instead. Not wanting to correct him, I decided to get the book and read it. I then learned certain species build nests for their mating rituals. And well, it seemed to be the most practical…”

“… Xelloss, you’re ridiculous.” Zelgadis pinched the bridge of his nose.

Rubbing his chin, Gourry said, “I don’t know. I would build a house for someone I really like.” No one was surprised by this.

In the midst of her self-agonizing embarrassment, Lina clenched everything, even her teeth. Of course he would go with the most absurd way to court someone. Not that she wouldn’t want to be with him. If she were honest, she did find him appealing in his own way. Still, this was too much by normal standards.

Feeling that she should at least indulge in his antics, she let out a sigh and looked up at him. “So, Xelloss, what made you choose this place for our house?”

“Well, I remembered that you said you’d like to live in this kind of town.” He then wiped the metaphorical sweat from his brow. “Also, I considered other factors, such as property value, accessibility, view-.”

Waving her hands, she said, “Okay! I get it.” She remained silent for a moment, now scratching her head. “But… What if I change my mind and want to live somewhere else?”

He stopped hammering for a moment, thinking about it himself. “I guess I could teleport it to where you wanted to be. Though depending on its size at the moment and distance, it will take a lot of energy to do so.”

“Hold on, how big are you planning on making it?” Amelia asked, tilting her head a bit.

“Well…” Xelloss stopped and moved closer over to them. Then, he materialized a piece of folded paper in his hand. He started to unfold it as the others watched intensely. Once it was fully unfurled, he continued, “I had planned on starting with a small living area at first. Though this will be the final product.”

Seeing the entire house plan, all of them gawked. There was a small cottage, but it sat between two larger houses. In fact, they were pretty much mansion-sized. There were also plans for a deluxe kitchen, a grand dining room, a library wing, a garden, and other things. It was certainly something that fitted well into a certain sorceress’ extravagant tastes.

Lina’s mouth twitched as the others stared at her judgingly. After a while, Zelgadis sighed. “So, when do you plan on getting it done?”

As he folded up the plans, Xelloss answered, “I think I can manage to get the cottage done in a couple of months by myself. The rest of it…” He then scratched his head. “I estimate a few years or so. Within a decade at best… Perhaps I should find help.”

It was at this point that she found herself getting uncomfortable again. She wasn’t going to lie that she would like that kind of place, but a part of her felt guilty. He certainly put a lot of thought into this. Though if she was honest, this was too much, especially just to be with her. After sighing again, she said, “Xelloss, you don’t need to do this.”

“Oh? I thought you would like a nice place to live. Should I stop and destroy it then?” He turned to her, raising an eyebrow.

“No!” Lina waved her arms frantically. She then placed a hand on her forehead, rubbing it. “What I mean is that you shouldn’t go this far just to go out with someone. I’d be happy if you asked me with no grand gesture involved. So, you can at least postpone building this thing until I’m ready to settle down. Okay?”

Tilting his head, he stayed silent as he thought it over. After a while, he nodded. “I suppose it can wait until then.”

She felt herself filled with relief. Ceipheed knows that would be more excessive than she was willing to deal with. But that didn’t last long when he asked, “So does that mean you’re willing to be with me?”

“Uhhhhh… Oh look at the time! We should be heading off now, right guys?!” Pointing off in the distance, Lina started to head off. Gourry, Zelgadis, and Amelia looked at her suspiciously while Xelloss stood there bewildered.

“Welp,” Zelgadis said as he glanced over at him, “Looks like you’ve got your answer.”

“Oh but on the contrary, she didn’t say no.” He turned to him while flashing his usual cocky smile. With that, he teleported right next to Lina, quickly sneaking in a kiss on her cheek. She went bright red before pushing him away. While she was yelling about how he shouldn’t be so sly, the others followed after them.

“Just so you know…” Amelia said as she looked over at Zelgadis with a faint blush, “I don’t expect anyone to build me a house.”

“Yea, you already have a palace,” he retorted, not noticing her puffed-up cheeks.

Crossing his arms, Gourry closed his eyes. “Well, I would still build a house for someone I like.” And once again, no one was surprised.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

One thing I will never userstand is humans and their need for revenge. Take Evan here. He seemed a nice guy and all. A contributor to his community. But all it takes is just to make one person made and they summon me. Like many the request was simple “I want him to hate himself every time he looks in the mirror”. Haha isn’t that what I’m good at? My standard fee of a soul and I was gone to Evan. Hairy and toned. Everything that a lot of men wanted. But you know I had big plans for Evan. Huge even. And it was time thag I got to work. Over the next few days Evan found it hard to not eat as his hunger intensified every day. And when he tried to not eat I went ahead and made him gain a few pounds of weight he could never lose. Before I knew it Evan was eating non stop. Drinking non stop. He couldn’t help himself. Then like so many others he was going to need some mass to help move that growing body around so naturslly his back bean to expand and widen. Arms bulking up and legs thickening. Soon he looked like he spent hours in the gym every day even when he never stepped foot inside one. I slid that self riteousness and demand for respect down on the scale and moved up the self reliance and lack of self discipline up. It wasn’t any time at all before he was a loud obnoxious bafoon. I turned his community that loved him against him. And I still wasn’t done as I started making more hairy grow across his body. Giving him devolved features. Giving him the look of something that he found absolutely disgusting. I took away his business and placed him at the bottom of another local construction company. Making sure that everyone would only see him fit to lift and grunt like an animal he was meant to be. Then the sweat came and all the more natural for him at this point. Soon it was as if Evan never was that man people respected. In his place I left Evan in front of a mirror. Constantly wiping sweat from his hairy engorged body. Leaving him to stare at his absolute worst nightmare. One that he would live everyday from here on out.

February 21st, 2021 10:21pm chris stutz bodywrecker

[halos-top-alien-model]

Sangheili Bracket Round 1 Match 5

More info below:

Nizat 'Kvarosee:

Debuted in Halo: Silent Storm

Born August 23, 2470 on Suban - one of Sanghelios' moons - Nizat would join the Covenant military prior to the Human-Covenant war, claiming he had served around one hundred years before the war began in 2525 (sources seem contradictory on his age / service time). At the onset of the war, he was in command of the Pious Rampage and the Fleet of Inexorable Obedience, with the Minor Minister of Artifact Survey attached as a ceremonial magistrate. Tasked with the destruction of humanity, he would target numerous planets before March 2526, when he was contacted by the United Rebel Front for an alliance. While it was a divine order that humanity be wiped out, he nonetheless saw this as an opportunity to gain intel on more human worlds - especially as the human rebels informed him of and offered to help eliminate the Spartan-IIs. It had been Spartan-IIs that had destroyed two of his ships and they were now hoping to destroy the entirety of his fleet at Biko. Nizat would attack Biko with this in mind, but just as he was glassing the planet, Spartans that slipped away would destroy most of his fleet's supply convoy, stopping his fleet's advance in human space. Upon learning that the Spartans had obtained a Covenant star map, he correctly deduced that they would next target the Covenant supply world of Zhoist rather than the capital ship of High Charity. He would meet them there to hunt them down and stop their raid, with 'Szatulai being slain in the process. The Battle of Zhoist would end with the destruction of Zhoist's Ten Cities, the planet's Ring of Mighty Abundance, and the under-construction Hammer of Faith - all with the Spartans evading capture or demise, valuable intel on their abilities and armor becoming lost with further destruction across Nizat's fleet. The Minor Minister threatened Nizat over this defeat, resulting in his steward - Tam 'Lakosee - to kill him and Nizat to incinerate the body and lie to the Hierarchs about the cause of death to protect Tam.

Called back to High Charity, Nizat makes an attempt to explain where he went wrong and what other shipmasters could learn from these encounters - most notably identifying ONI as the most dangerous asset of humanity and proposing a plan to trick and destroy them. However, his plan is rejected, so he steals the bait he needs for his plan and flees in his ship. Reaching the planet Netherop / N'ba, he soon learns that the Fleet of Swift Justice is after him and intends to pin him between themselves and a hostile human fleet nearby, but he out-maneuvers them and lands on the planet's surface. He engages the forces on the planet, facing difficulty in getting the humans to "steal" his tracking bait, all while Silent Shadow assassins and the same Spartans that bested him before are at his back. Unfortunately, the Silent Shadow would catch up with him, but they would end up only stripping him of his armor and leaving him and those loyal to him marooned on the planet. Sometime after this, Nizat would christen himself as "Worldmaster", stalking the similarly stranded Lieutenant Commander Amalea Petrov and claiming to his men that she was a gift from the gods. Meanwhile, off-world, the Prophet of Truth would cover up the true events that occurred on Netherop and declared the area cursed so that none would attempt to rescue Nizat. Additionally, orbital mines would be deployed around the planet.

For the next 33 years, Nizat would wage war against Petrov's forces (for some reason in contradiction to his previous views on her), discovering Precursor technology and using it to create Sanctum Hide and the Divine Hand, as well as other supplies to keep his followers alive. Among these followers were now also the Silent Shadow Meduz 'Ra'ashai, sent behind to enforce Nizat's exile. Over time, Nizat would grow more and more fanatical, while everyone else save for Tam grew more disillusioned with him and the harsh Netherop life. During these three decades, Nizat would prevent to separate UNSC rescue missions and lose a number of his followers until they were down to six by 2559. Then, things would change as the Arbiter Thel 'Vadam arrived in search of a weapon to end Cortana's new tyranny - Spartan Vale following behind him. Nizat would spare Thel's landing team but not Vale's, before he realized the lack of fighting between them. He would create a tunnel to capture the two human civilians Vale brought with her, but only succeeded in taking one. On the journey back, Thel and his remaining stranded allies would catch up and attempt to negotiate. Nizat would first hear him out, only to react in denial that the Covenant was a lie and the galaxy had changed, launching into hostiles. However, a sudden explosion would make him realize that Vale had used the Arbiter as a diversion to sneak past him and reach the Divine Hand. After he believed he had dealt with the Arbiter, he would retreat to go deal with the invading humans, only to have his numbers reduced to just himself and Tam - 'Ra'ashai defecting to the Arbiter's side - and a mandible torn off. Tam would negotiate with Thel and Vale, helping them with the Divine Hand in exchange for mercy for Nizat, but this would quickly go sideways as the Banished and Forerunner ships arrived. As the Arbiter attempted to deal with his enemies, Tam would take hold of the weapon and cause all of the ships in orbit be destroyed, with some Banished surviving to pose a threat to everyone stranded. Nizat and Tam would be abandoned in their temple as the Divine Hand was taken from them, with it the "blessings" turning to ruin. However, Nizat would not come to find this out, as Tam decided to put his dear leader and friend out of his misery.

Rtas 'Vadum:

Debuted in Halo 2

Born on Sept. 21, 2487, Rtas would explore his keep's shoreline as a child - nearly dying at ten years old in one exploration gone wrong - and graduated with honors from a top war college. By Sept. 2554, he would serve as a commander to all the SpecOps units in the Fleet of Particular Justice. During the Battle of Installation 04, he and a team that included his second in command - Bero 'Kusovai - would be sent to investigate a possible human boarding on the agricultural support ship Infinite Succor. However, they would not find humans there, but the Flood parasite. While the outbreak would be contained, Rtas would be the sole survivor - and lost left mandibles in the process. Following this, he would be reassigned to to command all SpecOps from High Charity.

A little time would pass before Rtas would be assigned to lead a mission against a heretic faction, his former Supreme Commander Thel 'Vadamee joining them as the newly appointed Arbiter. An attack against the base of operations would ensue, only for Rtas to once again detect the stench of the Flood. Complicating things further was that the Heretic Leader locked himself behind an unbreakable barrier while a harsh storm was on the horizon. The Arbiter would volunteer to conduct a risky plan to draw out the Heretic Leader solo, with Rtas deciding to leave with him his blade as help. The two would not see each other again until later at High Charity, where Rtas argued with the Prophet of Truth over the changing of the Honor Guard and the Prophet undermining Rtas' attempt to save the Prophet of Regret. Another reunion would take place on Installation 05 - specifically the Quarantine Zone - where Rtas and his SpecOps forces would aid the Arbiter in reaching the Sacred Icon necessary to activate the Halo. However, following this mission, the Hierarchs would order the execution of all Sangheili, beginning the Great Schism. As civil war erupted, Rtas would reunite with Thel once again and assist him in reaching a Scarab to break into the ring's control room, although Rtas would then split to achieve another goal - taking control of the Shadow of Intent. Now leading the fledgling Fleet of Retribution, Rtas would conduct a campaign to quarantine and sterilize the Flood-infected High Charity and Halo, only for a single cruiser to escape and head to Earth.

Rtas and parts of his fleet would follow it, joining the Battle of Voi in the process. Knowing more than anyone else the threat of the Flood spreading, he was prepared to glass all of Earth, but was talked into only glassing the portion of the continent the Flood had landed on. On his ship, he and other notable figures of the war would receive a message from Cortana warning that a Gravemind had taken over High Charity and was heading to Earth, with the Ark at the other side of Voi's portal being the only way to stop it. Rtas was eager to take his forces - alongside the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn - to go on the offensive against the Covenant and Flood at the Ark. His fleet would engage the Covenant in the skies, being confident despite being outnumbered three to one, declaring the iconic line: "Then it is an even fight." Unfortunately, while the battle was going well and Rtas prepared to destroy the Citadel, the Flood-infested High Charity appeared to knock his ship off course, temporarily taking it out of action. Once the threat of the Covenant activating the entire Halo Array was finished, Rtas would gather all the human and Sangheili forces and take them back to Earth, while the Arbiter, Master Chief, Sergeant Johnson, and 343 Guilty Spark stayed behind with the UNSC Forward Unto Dawn to finish off the Flood for good. Once the war was finally over, Rtas would return to Earth again to attend a memorial ceremony, although he would stay on his ship in orbit while the Arbiter attended in person. 

At some point later in the year 2553, Shadow of Intent would respond to a distress signal at Rahnelo. By this point, Rtas had recruited Bladmaster Vul 'Soran and Unggoy Ranger Stolt as his advisors, the former serving as his second in command. At Rahnelo, Rtas would learn of the existence of a Prelate intent on taking out the Sangheili and allow the female warrior Tul 'Juran to join in the hunt for him in defiance of tradition against female military service. They would pursue the Prelate to Duraan, only to fall into a trap and be boarded. After fending off the attack and capturing the Prelate, where he learned of greater plans forged by the Minister of Preparation as well as the Prelate's hatred of Rtas personally for supposedly causing the deaths of his family on High Charity. Rtas would still speak amicably with the Prelate, singing for him and theorizing that the Minister deceived the Prelate on when his family had died, sowing the seeds for the Prelate's later turn. Yet before that, when Rtas took a small team to confront the Minister and destroy his prototype Halo weapon, the Prelate would briefly betray them. This betrayal would be short-lived, as the Prelate would then sacrifice himself to take out both the Minister and the weapon while Rtas escaped alive. Once the mission was over, Rtas would speak with the Arbiter regarding changing the Swords of Sanghelios' restrictions on female enlistment due to Tul. Afterward, Rtas resolved to locate the survivors of the San'Shyuum species, in order to ensure the ones good-hearted like the Prelate would be treated fairly.

Shadow of Intent would be involved in a few events between the years of 2553 and 2558, including an operation against pirates in a Joint Occupation Zone and being stalked by three ONI prowlers that would then be destroyed under unclear circumstances. By Nov. 2559, Rtas would still be pursuing the San'Shyuum and therefore unable to assist the Arbiter in a trip to Netherop, but it is unclear if he was caught up in the Created conflict earlier and if his mission was known and allowed by Cortana.

[phoenixcatch7]

Totk end game/post credit spoilers

Me during the final blow and final cutscenes:

^ Link finally getting to beat up the guy that (caused the last century of problems, nearly killed hyrule, wiped out his friends and family, poisoned his friends homes,) took zelda.

^ me. The final dungeon (?) and battle was so so so good and I got to plunge my sword into ganons human body which I will admit I have missed. He tried to flurry rush me!! Failed but still. Rude. I styled on his soon-to-be corpse to show how it was done.

^ girls when the credits roll

^ girls when the credits finish and they see their favourite sage dying after showing her successors her favourite view and passing on the torch to the next generation ten thousand years late but assured a bright future free of suffering, oblivious to the curse of demise trapping hyrule in an eternal loop and link having to stand there and know better and then it cuts to the collapsed construct outside the temple.

^ girls internally when the door knocks and they've got to act normal about it for two minutes.

Notes about the fights:

The gloom shroud/Phantom ganon waiting outside was a pussy as always. Dropped his bow which I appreciated. The white moblin on the other side got shoved off onto his remains. Good build up to the main event.

The demon army was straight out of skyward sword, less satisfying given the lack of physical progress and implied time limit but it was still a fun treat. Didn't get to use any of my fun things though, and the sages made up for their lack of tactical usefulness and REFUSING TO LET ME USE THEIR ABILITIES and BLOCKING MY VIEW and INTERRUPTING MY ATTACKS by their sheer damage output, they deal with several monsters while I was busy. Then they immediately got pulled away by the temple bosses, which kind of dampened the mood. Bye, I guess.

Ganon was literally sitting in a malice hot tub. Straight up marinating in that hot tub like he was a washed up celebrity taking a fake candid photo at a blow out party he hosted at his oversized Beverly hills mansion months before he had to sell it.

Getting to fight rehydrated ganon was so cool! I will admit the way he built up the fight did something for me, the animators did a phenomenal job giving him a weight and power. I wanted to smash his smug face in so bad.

He was strong! Every hit from him knocked link over! But with his shield up it didn't do any damage, so I drew first blood! I always find that very important when fighting bosses XD. I actually had the biggest trouble with his sword, that thing was almost hilariously small on him and blended into the... Everything around link. When he switched to his club it went from worryingly hard to hilariously easy, I flurried literally every attack and didn't get a scratch! I was wary when he got his spear out but I'd gotten into a rhythm and took him out!

The demon king transformation was incredible! When that health bar just kept going I was so excited XD!! It's a fantastic trope/gimmick, love it every time! And the sages came back! And were somehow EVEN MORE HINDERING. He duplicated and everyone split up to fight one, which meant they were running all over the place. Unlike their vows these guys are fully opaque, and when three out of five are many times bigger than link it blocked out a significant portion of the battlefield, when I needed maximum vision to see and dodge the many shadowy ganons flitting in and out of view. I had a plan, I should have been able to pull it off beautifully - yunobo was closest so ram him into the nearest ganon to create distance to reach sidon and water blast through the forming line of ganons, climb mineru for a bullet time and fill everything with explosives.

What did not happen was all of that. I ended up taking the most damage by far in that portion of the fight. Instead of being a cool fight, a useful set of abilities or even an annoying but ignorable gimmick, the sages were active hindrances that blocked me at every turn, side rammed me with attacks aimed at the enemy, hid attacks aimed at me, and escaped my every attempt to reach them like their au was trained for that instead. The only success was reaching mineru to bullet time back flip from her, and by that point I was frustrated enough to use a significant portion of my ancient arrows. If I'd been using the vows I would have deactivated them barely a minute in and taken my chances with the phantoms! It was ridiculous! It was a relief when they got blasted away and it shouldn't have been!

But OH that TRANSFORMATION. I'd heard rumours of the dragon ganon, my own lack of blocking the totk spoiler tag being entirely my own fault, but it was still a shock to see him do what zelda had done, this time laughing manically, gladly willing to throw away even his mind and soul in pursuit of an ever foggy idea of power. (I can only assume he'd never actually seen a dragon before, and had only heard the myths surrounding then, because those guys are NOT designed for combat lol.) The fact that he went laughing as zelda went in pain and tears really cemented how far both were willing to go but how differently they saw it.

That evil dragon aesthetic was IMPECCABLE. 10/10 off the charts. The horns!! The eyes! The explosion! Forcing his way up through the castle with link trapped helplessly in a tooth! The giant claw emerging! The messed up dragon theme!!

And then ZELDA, my beautiful darling!!! I love her so much, even blind and empty, even gone and sleeping her dragon knew what to do against the thing she had been turned into to fight against. Oh she was BEAUTIFUL and so gentle with link, catching him on her fluffy head, she was so small in comparison! And link was absolutely tiny!!! Tiny boy!! She might not have known what to do herself, but she was pressed as close as she could get the whole time, darting about like a minnow in a pond compared to ganons barracuda thrashing. The sunset in the sky just made the whole thing look phenomenal.

The use of like like - esque stones instead of the calamitys eyes was inspired! The eyes would have been too much the same, and the introduction of likes trained us instinctively to hit the rock orb things as weak points. Unfortunately being that high up in the air and being so small comparatively meant judging distance was very hard, I wasted a lot of ancient and bomb arrows trying to hit them. It was only until the stone opened up (sir... Why did you put that BACK on your head?! Hide it in your body like the rest of the sane dragons!) that I realised you could land on him. In my defence he looked entirely comprised of gloom, which has spent the past month sucking my life out on contact so...

I was SO lucky to have my hero outfit on, ie the dyed travellers tunic and cap of the wild, it made every cutscene so cinematic! Sure felt like a zelda game! I took so many screenshots XD.

The final cutscenes though... I've been so worried about getting zelda back to human since I got the master sword glyph in eldin. I've been so, so determined to get her back. I would have done so side quests to do so - since she was a separate quest to defeating ganon I thought impa would give me the instructions! I was fully prepared to have to put in another ten hours or so and then fight ganon again to get the true ending!

And then Sonia and Rauru showed up again like 'that's our DAUGHTER' and gave link the power to rewind time over ten THOUSAND YEARS and turn her dragon soul back to a human ToT. And then they took links arm!! I was so mad! Give him his arm back?! Where did the flesh one even come from it got turned into a blackened lump on a pg screen! They can't even show blood! That arm was fully gone! You said yourself it was beyond - ohhhh they reversed time on his arm too. What is with Rauru and non consensual arm replacement?? I was a part zonai hybrid! The last piece of an extinct species! I could levitate and reverse time! Give me!! my arm back!!!

But Sonia finally got to meet link like she'd wanted and they got their closure after millenia and they said goodbye ToT.

And then link CAUGHT zelda. They landed in the pond he had all that time ago at the beginning, and he swam them to shore, and zelda woke UP and came HOME and SURVIVED after she'd lost all hope for herself and she got to come HOME 😭 (see pictures above for reference). And they SHOULD HAVE HUGGED NINTENDO, THEY SHOULD HAVE HUGGED.

I was crying so hard I literally couldn't see the screen ToT. I had to keep blinking and sniffling and I just SOBBED when the credits rolled. Wailing into the tissues. And then mineru and the sages! Dangit, not my favourite sage! Dangit, let me keep ONE zonai thing?? Thankfully I didn't burst into tears again but it got CLOSE.

All in all? 10/10 incredible showstopping unbelievable never been done before perfect amazing. Everything down to the camera angles were perfection made physical (or virtual). Just NEVER make me have to fight with the sages again.

[v0idund3rth3v3il]

“Rice and Liver”

Eyeless Jack x reader(gender not specified)

Warnings: organs, blood, gore, descriptions of awful smelling things.

Type: Fluff(?), platonic

—————————————————————————————

You opened up your fridge, it smelled of rotten corpse, there laid a plate of kidneys that had been individually plastic wrapped.

It was the only thing in there, because for one, your food will stench of kidneys, two you had to clean your fridge, kidneys or no kidneys your fridge needed a wipe down.

You took the plate and place it by the cutting board on your counter, there you unwrapped the kidneys and diced them. Taking out a pan and vegetable oil, you started to cook the now diced bodily organs. Hopefully Jack liked cooked kidneys, you’ve only seen him eat them raw.

You then started to prepare the rice, then adding it to the pot to cook.

The back door slid open, a man in a blue mask peeked inside, then sighed in relief when he saw you.

“I was worried I might’ve entered the wrong house.” He closed the door behind him, he was drenched in mud and blood.

“What the hell happened? You look like a mess.” You gestured towards the filth on him.

“Had a snack on the way here, he put up one hell of a fight.” He then smelt it, the organs, he began to salivate, “What’cha cooking?”

“Liver and rice, but, I don’t know how you feel about cooked liver, nor human food.” You replied, stirring the rice.

He shrugged, “I only tried human food a few times, everything tasted bland.”

Jack found himself a seat at the table, his leg bouncing, “ Although, there was these spicy noodles I tried that tasted alright.”

Everything was ready, you grabbed two bowls, you poured rice in one, then both rice and kidneys in the other.

You grabbed silverware for the both of you, you doubted he would use it anyway.

You then placed his bowl and silverware in front of him. You sat down, setting your bowl and silverware in front of you.

As predicted, he wasted no time grabbing handfuls of food and shoving it under his mask and into his mouth.

You flinched, but said nothing as you ate your own food.

Soon, both of you were finished.

Now it was time to discuss the missions plan.

__________________________________________

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this!

Reblogs and constructive criticism are welcome!

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[darthluffy]

So I’m playing through Horizon: Forbidden West for the 3rd time… and I really think Far Zenith was a mistake. Not just in universe(cause obviously) but as an inclusion in the game. Part of what I loved about Zero Dawn was that the end of the world wasn’t intentional. Sure Ted’s a dick but he didn’t mean for that to happen. It was a glitch that caused the HORUS line to go rogue and a culmination of events that meant they had no way to immediately react. Far Zenith feels like the opposite of that, a group of self-obsessed billionaires who do nothing but cause problems for their own personal benefit. Very hateable but they always felt empty to me.

The main reason I end up thinking they were a mistake though is that I believe there was much more interesting option. The AIs created by humanity before and during Zero Dawn. We see Zero Dawn’s progression but it’s not like the rest of the world would sit by and watch everything end without trying to stop it. And I think a logical method to attempt would’ve been taking as many powerful AIs(Vast Silver and CYAN level AIs) as possible, and forcing them to evolve by battling each other over and over until they had one that could break through the swarm’s firewalls. A self-contained program that runs continuously, trying to force a breakthrough to happen, in a hidden base underneath Metallurgic’s old headquarters in… Denver. Of course it fails, they don’t evolve quick enough, and with the swarm approaching everyone flees. But the program keeps running, for hundreds of years, the AIs battling and destroying themselves only to be rebooted and do it all over again. The end result would be something like Nemesis, but created accidentally out of humans attempt to survive. Then you could have the real fun begin, because eventually time takes it’s effect and enough system’s fail that the AI can take control of the program and start reaching out. Over time they find someone that has happened to find a Focus and begin speaking with them, learning what has happened to the world, and that person leads a team to Denver to free their caged god. The group breaks into Nora lands, take hostages to keep the Nora away as they excavate the ruins, before retreating out of the Nora lands with their prize. In short, they’re the group that kills Rost’s daughter. The group flees all the way across the Forbidden West, all they way to San Fransisco, where the AI intends to gain access to Ted’s Omega clearance to take control of GAIA, but Rost catches up with them outside the tomb and finishes off the AI’s human allies. Forced to adapt the AI instead send the Mysterious Signal that corrupts GAIA’s subordinate functions, hoping to wipe out humanity that way. When that doesn’t work they decide to rebuild GAIA, using basically the same plan as Far Zenith. But now I think you have an enemy that is more interesting, and would ultimately set up the final enemy for a third game, a fully evolved Hephastus after the events of the final battle(they’d play out similar).

The funny thing is how little needs to change in the game. Everything with Beta can happen almost exactly the same. You add datapoints from both Roth’s and the people he’s hunting perspectives to give context. The Odyssey actually explodes leaving the system and the AI constructs a probe to search the wreckage and return with Apollo. Most plot points still happen, just with a very different enemy. Sylan’s goals may need to have been adjusted a little but the broad stroke of creating an army to serve as a distraction remains. And I think the end result is a much more interesting enemy for Forbidden West, a personal connection to the enemy through Roth as opposed to Elisabet, and clearing the slate for Hephastus to take the stage as the ultimate enemy of the third game.

[unboundprompts]

I'm so new to Writeblr I didn't realize it was standard to like... reply to prompts in an ask box? Please correct me if I'm wrong though cause I'm still trying to figure out how this place works ;-; I tried to challenge myself to get this done in under 30 again so it's rough ;; Random Prompt #30 "The 'Failed' Experiement"

The Magean was sweating bullets, the exertion of the Magik the circle had completed catching up to him. In the Circle were twelve other High Magean’s, bounded by two’s were six of The Lost, and one High Lady Priestess. Despite linking their Leys, all looked ashen, even the Dark Ones. It was as though their own life force had been drained from their bodies, maybe even their souls.

Was that possible?

No one had done a Magikal experiment this intense, not since the days of Legend when the Races were Constructed during the War of Champions. 

Had they succeeded?

Had they created new life?

Had they successfully pulled the Leys to create the next step in their society’s collective evolution?

Were their Gods successfully tricked?

After generations of banishment from the Outside, would they finally have the means necessary to take control of the Planet as was rightfully theirs?

He wiped the sweat from his brow, looking in the center of the circle at their test subject. Aghast, he stepped back. Skin peeled off the victim, its flesh sloughing off its bones. Chunks of meat clung to the skeleton, and the acrid smell of necrosis permeated the air. The creature’s eyes glowed an unnatural yellow, the eyes melting from its sockets. 

It looked around and released a gurgling screech. Its cry echoed around the domed ceiling, piercing the ears of everyone in the room. 

The Lord High Priestess stood straight, the only person in the room seemingly unaffected by the monstrosity now standing before them. “Bind it,” she commanded, “It will stay alive until The Queen has decided otherwise.” She stepped down from her dias, ready to leave the room. 

“My Lady,” One of the Mageans called out to her, “Surely you cannot expect us to allow this… this thing to live any longer than absolutely necessary? The experiment… this is a failure!”

The Priestess raised an eyebrow, “And what makes you so certain this is a failure?” She looked the creature up and down, now bound in various weaves of various magik, and smirked, “It may not be what we were trying to do persay… but it may still have its uses.” 

The Magean shuddered, “My lady-”

“Should you question me again, child, you may end up sharing the same fate as this wretch,” she said darkly. “Unless you think you know better The Queen herself? Than one of the Samnae? Perhaps you should be punished for such blasphemy.” 

The underling swallowed visibly, skin becoming even paler if possible. 

“That’s a good boy.” The Priestess said, “Now maintain the circle, all of you.” 

The Queen entered the highest room of the Obelisk, composed and regal, despite the deafening screams echoing around the chamber. She smiled, sinisterly, as she looked at the scene before her. Though her initial hopes for this experiment was not brought to fruition, she still had some hopes for what they could achieve. The being, creature… whatever it was now, she didn't know. But she was certain it used to be human. 

And it was perfect. 

This would do quite well for her and her husband’s plans.

Quite well indeed.

Super interesting omg

(And to be honest I'm not sure what the standard is. I don't mind you responding as a reblog, though, if that is what you prefer to do. I'm just happy to receive responses lol)