#yes I drew this entire thing because I wanted to do a raptor hand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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When The Music's Not Forgotten PT. 1

Green Lantern!Reader x Lantern Family Story!

Word Count: 5.3K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes, Violence

Author's Note: I legit had a breakdown trying to think about what to label this fic as. Almost put 'Batsis' but then I realized it's not Batsis nor Lantern!Sis so I was like...uh...what do I do? We'll figure it out. Enjoy! -Thorne

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Her first thought when she opened the front door to the Coast City apartment and saw her dad in a headlock by Kyle and Kyle in a headlock by Guy who was in one by John, who was in one by her dad, was: this is totally and completely normal.

The second thought: that nothing involving her father and uncles ever surprised her anymore, occurred to her as said father and said uncles stopped arguing with one another and cocked their heads up, looking at her, each of their faces exhibiting the epitome of “I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar” shock, in which she merely returned with a blank stare before closing the door behind her, marching into the kitchen with the grocery bags.

Of course, that also meant the second she did, they were stumbling in to explain what had brought them to the unfortunate moment of head-locking each other, but also to see what she’d bought and what she was going to cook for dinner. She paid them no mind, ducking under arms and between bodies as she maneuvered around them kitchen, putting things away.

Someone curled an arm around her neck, pressing their lips to her temple. “Hey Raptor.”

She smiled. “Hey dad.” Tossing a beer behind her, she added, “Uncle Guy. Uncle John. Kyle.”

Guy caught his beer, popping the tab, and Kyle looked at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come everyone else is ‘uncle’ and I’m not?” he looked hurt. “Am I somehow different, (Y/N)?”

She paused and threw another beer behind her. “Kyle, were almost the same age. I’m not calling you my uncle because John and Guy are older than both of us.”

“Not that much,” he griped, popping his beer tab. “It still hurts my feelings.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and handed John the final beer. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I considered you to be my favorite cousin?”

Kyle smiled at her. “Yes, it would.”

She nodded then glanced at Hal. “Dad, tacos or burgers?”

“I dunno.” He said, glancing at the others. “You guys?”

“Burgers.”

“Tacos.”

“Burgers.”

She cocked a brow and looked at her father. “Seems like you’ll either make a tie or a win.”

“I have been thinking about good tacos, Raptor,” he replied, and she nodded.

“Tacos it is.” Guy and John groaned, and she shot them a glare. “Hey! Lock that shit up or I’m not cookin’.” Immediately they shut their mouths, listening to Kyle and Hal snicker. “Buncha children.” She griped, dumping the ground beef into a skillet to brown.

“So, (Y/N),” Guy drawled, leaning against the kitchen counter. And honestly, the entire kitchen was way too small for four grown men and a grown woman to be in at one time, but she’d gotten used to it, so why fix what wasn’t broke.

“So, Uncle Guy.” She repeated, shifting the meat around with the spatula.

“Why exactly did you start working at the Wayne Enterprises branch here?”

She could feel the eyes of her family on her back, and she couldn’t help but roll hers. “Maybe because Mister Wayne pays good salaries to his employees and his health insurance coverage is fantastic?” (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “But something tells me you’re asking for another answer.”

He grinned. “Which son of Wayne’s are you dating?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes again. “I love you, but you’re an idiot.” She turned back to the pan. “I’m not dating any of his sons. Dick’s with Koriand’r, Jason’s a douche-bag, and their brothers are way too young.”

“Doesn’t he have a daughter?”

“Cass is dating a girl she goes to college with.” She took an onion from the basket against the kitchen wall atop the counter. “Keep digging though, Uncle Guy. You’ll hit rock bottom soon enough.”

“Does that mean you’re dating the big Bat?”

She almost cried from laughter as Hal choked on his beer and spluttered. “No. I’m not dating Mister Wayne. He’s old enough to be my dad.”

John chuckled. “I don’t know, (Y/N). When you first met Bruce at, what? Ten? You told him you were going to marry him.”

Her cheeks burned and she scowled at them. “I meant Batman because he was kind-hearted, and I was totally awestruck as a little girl. Let it go.” Her eyes fell on Hal. “Dad, tell ‘em to let it go.”

He nodded. “Please let it go.” Kyle started humming ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and while the others snickered, Hal screwed his eyes shut. “Oh God, stop. I don’t want to think about my precious baby anywhere near that anal retentive kitchen scale.”

The other snickered and before she could say anything, their rings started beeping. She looked at them as their faces turned solemn, setting their beers down as their suits flashed to life.

“Trouble on Oa,” John said.

“Gotta fly?” she asked, and Hal nodded, leaning over to kiss her temple.

“Gotta fly, Raptor.” He hugged her quickly and followed John and the others to the balcony. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dad.” (Y/N) waved. “Be careful, Corpsmen.” They all waved at her and took off, leaving her in the apartment alone and she sighed, turning back to the kitchen. “Another dinner…alone.” She couldn’t help but deflate. “Wonderful.”

***

She continued cooking for almost an hour when the balcony doors opened and closed, and she smiled. “Hey guys. You’re back rather early.” When she didn’t hear a response, she immediately fell on guard and she took one of the kitchen knives from its holder, brandishing it.

Carefully, she walked into the dimly lit living room, eyes scanning the expanse for whoever was in the apartment with her. None of the floorboards were creaking, no rustling of fabric or scuffing of shoes. It was completely silent, and that made her nervous.

Stay calm. The worst thing you can do in a situation when you need to be calm is to be panicked. Slow breaths. Keep focused.

She repeated his words in her head and shifted around the hallway wall, eyes peeled for trouble.

Small steps when sweeping buildings. If an enemy rounds a corner and it comes to close combat, you’ll want to be able to hit them and taking big steps causes instability.

(Y/N) crept down the hall and came upon the bathroom just beside her father’s bedroom door. Quickly, she peeked in, seeing it empty, then cross the doorway, pausing beside her father’s door. She inhaled deeply, then turned her head around the corner, seeing it empty and dark. The only room left was hers.

She crossed to the other side of the wall and hurried down to her door, and with another sharp breath, she turned and looked in. Again, it was empty. Confusion bled through her as she returned to the living room, the hand holding the knife lowered beside her thigh.

“That’s strange.” She murmured. “I thought I—”

“Heard something?”

She gasped and spun around, bringing the knife up, but they caught it with ease, squeezing her wrist until she cried in pain and dropped it. (Y/N) heard the clattering in her ears as they grabbed her other hand and shoved her down into the couch.

She started thrashing wildly, about to scream when she heard, “I thought I told you not to turn your back on people.”

(Y/N) stilled and turned her head, catching that stupidly smart smirk. “You fucker.” She cursed at him, torn between laughing hysterically and cursing some more. “I can’t believe you turned this into a lesson.”

He shrugged. “Had to know if you were learning any better.” Smiling at her, he quipped, “Your sweeping is great. Detection skills? Not so much.”

“Let me up, Jason.” she commanded, rolling her eyes and he snorted, letting go of her arms. Immediately, she spun and cocked her elbow into his jaw, smiling as he grunted in pain and grabbed it.

“Damn,” he hissed. “You’ve got elbowing down to an art.”

She grinned. “I’ve had a good teacher.”

They stared on another down for a moment, then all at once, they were yanking at shirts and unbuckling belts, grabbing each other, and tugging closer to one another as their lips met in a searing kiss.

(Y/N) shoved at the jacket on his shoulders, moving her lips to his jaw and he groaned, taking his hands from her hips for just a moment to pull the article off. He shifted out of reach, and she glanced towards the kitchen.

“I turned the oven off,” Jason muttered, yanking his crimson shirt over his head. “Figured we’d be too busy to eat dinner.”

She giggled and shoved him off the couch, watching as he scrambled to his feet; she stood and started pulling off her own clothes, first her shirt, then her bra and Jason almost collapsed at her feet when she tugged her pants to her ankles.

“C’mon, Jay, don’t be shy.” (Y/N) cooed. “Show me what you’ve got.”

He chuckled, and unbuckled his belt, letting it fall to the floor as he back-stepped down the hallway. “Oh, you want a show, Miss Jordan?”

She smirked at him and stuck her thumbs in the sides of her thong. “I’d love a show, Mister Todd.”

“I might made you beg a little for it,” he shot back coolly, toeing off his combat boots and she hummed.

“I will if you will.” (Y/N) said, watching his hands unbutton the charcoal-colored utility pants he wore.

“My eyes are up here.” Jason quipped, though he didn’t seem to stop as he shoved his pants down, leaving him in his boxers, and he hit her doorway.

“True, but my attention is elsewhere.” She drew her eyes up his toned body, internally smirking as he seemed to shiver under her gaze, and she pushed her thong down her legs. (Y/N) stood before him and reached out, placing her hands flat on his chest. He was so hot underneath her palms and she slowly rubbed her hands up to the sides of his neck.

“(Y/N),” he murmured huskily, arms winding around her waist, and she smirked.

“Take me to bed, Jason.”

Immediately, he bent down and grabbed the back of her thighs, digging his fingers in until she lifted and wrapped her arms around his waist. “With pleasure,” he purred.

***

By the time Hal and the other lanterns got back to the apartment, it was well into the morning, and he could tell that everyone just wanted to crash in exhaustion, too tired to even think about flying to their own homes.

He opened the balcony doors and let them inside. “Lemme get some blankets from the hall closet,” he muttered, voice as ragged as his body felt.

“Who the hell played strip poker in here?”

Hal looked up at Guy who was holding up a crimson t-shirt with a baffled expression. “What?”

Guy met his gaze then nodded down the hall. “Someone’s been tangoing.”

When he craned his neck to peek down the hallway, sure enough there was a trail of clothing leading down to her room. His eyes went wide, and he suddenly forgot about his exhaustion as he leaped over the couch and sprinted down the hall, the other Lanterns hot on his heels.

Hal skidded to a stop in her doorway and immediately screeched, “(Y/N) JORDAN WHO THE HELL IS IN YOUR BED?!”

The two young adults in the bed startled up, and she held the sheet to her chest as she gaped at her father. “Dad! You—you’re here!”

He gestured wildly. “OF COURSE, I’M HERE! I FUCKING LIVE HERE! WHO THE FUCK IS IN YOUR BED?!”

“Morning, Hal,” Jason greeted, with a mock salute. “How’s your day so far?”

“MY DAY?!” he bellowed, already starting for the young man, and John was quick to grab Hal around the waist. “LET GO! I’M GOING TO MURDER THIS SON OF A BAT FOR CORRUPTING MY DAUGHTER!”

“Excuse me,” Jason said, rather affronted, then pointed at her. “It’s (Y/N) who’s corrupted me.”

(Y/N) barely had time to hide her snort as she elbowed him in the side. “Shut the hell up.” She cleared her throat and looked at the men in her doorway. “Uh…can you close the door so I can get dressed?”

“CLOSE THE DOOR?! I’M GOING TO TAKE THE DOOR OFF ITS HINGES! YOU ARE GROUNDED, (Y/N) JORDAN DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU ARE—”

Guy and John dragged Hal off and Kyle shut the door but threw a thumbs up at Jason before he left.

***Part Two***

She tried to look anywhere but her father’s face as he continued to berate her and Jason. And honestly, he’d stopped making sense about thirty minutes ago and while she couldn’t look at her uncles for fear of bursting into laughter, Jason had no problems cracking a smirk at everything Hal was yelling about.

“—AND I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU HAD A BOY IN THE HOUSE!” he paused, horror drawing across his face, then it immediately turned into anger. “THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME HE’S COME OVER IS IT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN GOING ON?!”

Her face pinched and she inquired, “Which question do you want answered first? The one you asked when you first started yelling or the last one just now?”

“I am in no mood for games, (Y/N) Jordan. You brought a boy into the house without permission.”

“I am a man.” Jason interrupted.

She elbowed him in the ribs. “I didn’t realize I needed permission to bring my boyfriend into the house.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Hal screeched.

(Y/N) blinked. “I’m confused. Are you angry at me calling him my boyfriend? Do you want me to call him my fuckbuddy or something?”

“HEY!” both Jason and Hal in unison and her father glared at him. “SHUT UP!”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dad…I’m twenty-one. Having a boyfriend is a completely normal thing. Having a consensual sexual relationship with someone is a normal thing.”

Hal spluttered for a moment then pointed at Jason. “NOT WITH HIM!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jason question, rather offendedly, then he held up a hand. “I mean, besides the obvious things that are wrong with me.”

“YOU’RE YOU! THE SON OF BATMAN!”

“I mean…” Jason drawled. “That’s technically debatable most days.”

(Y/N) looked at him. “You’re not exactly helping the case, Jay.”

“I’m not trying to.” He grinned at her. “I’m seeing if I can make your dad go red.”

She tutted at him. “Jason Todd trying to corrupt a Green Lantern into a Red Lantern. Shame.”

“QUIT DOING THAT!” Hal howled as they started snickering, seeming to get lost in their own little world. Suddenly, he was marching down the hallway and coming back with a cellphone.

They watched in confusion for a moment, then Jason’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

“What?” (Y/N) worried.

“He’s calling B.”

“What.”

Hal put the phone to his ear and glowered at the two of them until the line clicked and he immediately yelled, “DO YOU KNOW YOUR DELINQUENT SON IS DATING MY DAUGHTER?...WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ALREADY KNOW?!...EXCUSE ME?! WHAT?!”

He hung up the phone and set it on the table, then proceeded to turn around and grab a pillow from the couch, bringing it to his face. Hal bellowed into the pillow and Jason nudged her. “How long is he gonna be like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably another minute or two. He’ll start up again in about an hour though.”

Jason hummed and stood from the table. “Well, I’d love to stay and get yelled at some more but if I’m being honest, I only need one father yelling at me and not two.”

“Where are you going?” she questioned.

“Roy and I have a mission in Costa Rica tomorrow evening.” He bent down and kissed her lips. “I’ll call you when I land.”

(Y/N) smiled and before he pulled away, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for another searing kiss, one that erupted wolf-whistles from the other Lanterns around them—which also had Hal pulling his head up at the sound, immediately shouting again.

“Love you,” she murmured, and he winked.

“Love you more, doll.” He tossed a mock salute to Hal and the others before leaving and she sat back in her seat, readying herself for another round of bellowing.

***

Surprisingly, Hal had relaxed after a few hours. That being said, (Y/N) really had to work on him to do so but being an only child and her dad’s pride and joy played a big part—she knew the man could never stay mad at her. Of course, he’d immediately put rules into place over the whole relationship thing. No boys in the house without permission, no closing the door when a boy was over, no more Bat-sons in the Jordan apartment…he was overreacting, but it wasn’t anything new in (Y/N)’s opinion.

But he did ease up after a few months, mainly because as anti-social as Jason was most days, he was damn good at working people over when he wanted to. And in her boyfriend’s opinion, the easiest way to work her dad over was to tell him all the ways to screw with Bruce—which Hal took in like a sponge with water. As annoying as it was to see the two men so giddy over a plan, she was glad they were just getting along.

However, when Hal learned that (Y/N) was being trained by Jason, and on the rare occasions, Bruce, his meltdown the first night seemed like a walk in the park compared to the storm blowing in.

***

So…what are you wearing?

She snorted, crossing at the formula of the equation, rewriting a new one beside it. “Jason, I’m not having phone-sex with you.”

Hmm…I bet you’re wearing red panties.

“Cold.” (Y/N) retorted with a grin. “They’re blue actually. You know, like Nightwing’s suit?”

Why do you hate me?

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you mean, Jay.”

You’re evil, you know that? Like you portray innocence but in reality, you’re evil.

She snorted again when a tapping came at her bedroom window and she frowned, leaning over; Jason saw it from the camera.

Everything alright?

(Y/N)’s eyes drifted to his face then to the window and she stood. “Yeah, someone’s at the window.”

(Y/N). He warned and she leaned over, seeing Kyle floating there.

“It’s Kyle.”

What’s Kyle doing there? I thought he was on Oa.

She nodded, brows furrowing as she murmured, “I did too.” Opening the window, she greeted, “Hey, what’s up?”

Kyle seemed nervous. No, he seemed concerned. “I need you to come with me.”

“Is my dad okay?” she asked outright, and he nodded.

“Yeah, Hal’s good…but he needs to talk to you.” Kyle waved a hand over her phone, and it shut off. “It’s important.”

(Y/N) felt her heart thump in her chest at how serious her friend was, and she nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

***

She’d only ever been to the Watchtower once. And the only thing she remembered from the trip was getting lost in one of the hallways only to be found by Batman who merely picked her sobbing frame up and hummed to her until she fell asleep.

So really, it was like a first time visit all over again, and when she came face to face with not only the Justice League, well Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman, and her uncles, she wasn’t exactly excited. It felt like she’d been called to the principal’s office for expulsion.

Hal pointed to a seat, which she took, not wanting to open her mouth when she had no idea what was going on.

Wonder Woman, surprisingly, was the first to speak. “What is your daughter doing here, Hal?”

Her father merely looked at (Y/N) then to Bruce, questioning, “How long?” They stared one another down and she felt as lost as last year’s Easter eggs. “How long, Bruce?” Hal asked again.

Batman didn’t even blink. “A full year. When she started working at the branch in Coast City, I had Jason start it.”

“Motherfucker.” Hal cursed, chuckling humorlessly. “I do all I can to keep her out of this bullshit and you drag her into it.”

“(Y/N) wanted to train. She emailed me through a private channel about it.”

All eyes turned onto her and then she knew what was happening. “He’s…right, dad. I wanted to be trained to fight.”

Hal gaped at her. “Why? You’re going to school? You’re working? Why do you want to train?”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “To be like you guys. You know, useful?” she stood from the table. “Look, I know you’re worried, but even Batman’s noted major improvements. He says I’m almost ready to start patrolling on my own.” She looked to him for help.

“She’s smart, Hal. And I’m not saying that to float the Jordan ego. Jason’s not one to give commendation where it shouldn’t be.” Batman nodded at her. “(Y/N)’s not my kids, but she’s right behind them on how good she is.”

Hal’s brown eyes turned onto him in a fierce glare. “Yeah, well, unlike you, I don’t make a habit out of putting my kid in danger. I know you have a thing for going through sons.”

“HEY!” (Y/N) shouted, getting his attention as she stood to her feet. “I’m old enough to make this decision for myself and if Batman says I’m good enough to do this, I’m gonna do it.”

“Nope. Not happening.” Hal rejected. “End of discussion.”

“No.”

His eyes went wide first with shock, then with the audacity of her language. “Excuse me?”

(Y/N) momentarily wanted to cave, but she held strong and tightened her jaw. “I said no.” she declared. “I’m gonna do this.”

Hal rounded the table, stomping up to her. “No, you’re not.”

“What’re you gonna do, dad? Lock me in the house for the rest of my life?” she suggested. “I have rights you know.”

“Not to do shit like this. I don’t want you being a hero.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and suddenly, everyone felt the mood shift as she murmured, “It’s because I’m not a Lantern, isn’t it, dad?”

Hal’s jaw went slack. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She shot back coolly, then tipped her head to the other league members. “See, they get to brag about their kids. Superboy, the Robins, the Wonder-Girls...everyone on this team has a trainee but you.” (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed. “And you hate that I’m not like you, don’t you? That I can’t seem to figure out what it takes to wear that ring.”

She glanced at her uncles who were gaping at her. “See, you look at them like they’re the greatest people in the universe. And then when you look at me? It’s easy to see the devotion shift. Deep down it makes you disappointed that I’m not a Green Lantern.”

“You are absolutely out of line.” He growled.

“Am I, dad?” (Y/N) challenged. “Everyone here gets to brag about their superhero trainees but when it comes you, what can you say? ‘My daughter isn’t a Green Lantern like me, sorry!’?” she looked at him. “I’m not a Green Lantern, but I am something else. I can be something else. Let me prove it to you.”

Hal gazed at her for along moment. “…No.”

(Y/N) snapped. “Why the fuck not! What is it about me that just makes you so antagonistic at the idea of me being something like you!”

“Watch your language, young lady. I’m still your father.” He demanded.

“Oh please, as far as I’m concerned, you were just a failed pilot on leave who fucked my mom and got her pregnant.”

It happened before anyone realized it. The sharpest crack any of them had ever heard in their lives and (Y/N) turned her face back to him, a hand coming up to press against her stinging cheek. And Hal? Hal was staring at his hand as if it didn’t belong to him.

She wasn’t mad. Shocked, sure, but not mad. If anything, it’d proved her point and she merely regarded him with an assured gaze. “Bogey down, huh dad?” she remarked, and his eyes shot to hers.

Hal’s mouth opened but nothing would come out except, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she whispered, taking a step back from him when he reached for her.

His face crumpled and he brokenly called, “(Y/N), wait!”

But she was already running for the door, Batman on her heels.

***

“Do you want me to call Jason?” he asked quietly, watching her open the balcony doors.

Her hands stilled for a moment, then she resumed twisting the key. “No…and don’t tell him this happened either.”

“Why not?”

(Y/N) looked back at him. “Because you and I both know that Jason would beat my dad senseless.”

“…Do you want to come back to Gotham for a while?”

She opened the doors and sighed. “I don’t know, Batman.” Glancing back, she added, “I don’t really know what I want right now.”

“Do you want to be away from Hal?” he questioned seriously, and she looked at her feet.

“I know what you’re thinking. But he’s not abusive.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up. “My dad’s never laid his hands on me before now.”

“He ever physically discipline you?”

“Swatting your eight-year-old kid’s butt in the middle of a store when they’re having a meltdown over not buying an expensive toy is a lot different from beating them bloody and bruised with a beer bottle or a belt.’ (Y/N)’s eyes darkened, but not at her father’s face in her head, but at Batman. “My dad’s a lot of things. A jackass, a skirt chaser, a self-righteous arrogant prick…but he is not an abuser.”

Batman placed a hand on her shoulder. “He hit you.”

“Yeah? And? I insulted him and my mom straight to his face. Sure, slapping me wasn’t the answer, but I understand the reaction. Does is make is right? No. But neither is what I said. We both fucked up.” She shrugged his hand off. “We’ll talk about it and move on.”

“Because it’s what Jordan’s do?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh but it was anything but mirthful. “Yeah. It’s what Jordan’s do.” She stepped inside and looked back at him. “Thanks for bringing me home, Batman. I appreciate it.”

He nodded, pulling out his grapple. “Call me if you need anything.” Batman gazed at her. “And think about calling Jason.”

“…I will.”

Batman gazed at her a moment longer then fired the grapple, taking off into the night sky towards the Batplane, then she was watching as it disappeared faster than it came.

With a heavy sigh, she turned and put her hands on the back of the loveseat, shutting her eyes as she thought about the events of the night. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel. Angry? Hurt? Responsible? It had to be all the above, especially when she pictured his face in her head after it happened. Shocked, ashamed, horrified, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

(Y/N) didn’t want to think about it, and when she heard a ring flashing in her ears, she turned. “Guys, I don’t wanna talk about—” she fell into a deep silence when she saw the man before her, the yellow suit glowing vividly against the dark sky.

“Hello (Y/N) Jordan. I am Sinestro.”

***Part Three***

Hal had taken her flying more times than she could’ve counted—perks of being a pilots daughter, and while she had faith in aircraft and Green Lantern constructs, she wasn’t sure how to feel about Yellow Lanterns and their tendency to drop people.

Coast City looked so small below her, and she swallowed thickly, trying greatly to keep her fear under control, keeping her eyes on the moon. She knew if Sinestro dropped her at this height, she’d die. There were no chances of survival at all—she’d hit the ground and pancake with the best of ‘em.

“I am rather surprised that you accepted my invitation so easily,” he remarked, not looking at her as they rose through the night sky.

“Yeah, well…I’ve heard enough stories about you to know that you’ll kill me if you want to.” Her eyes followed his frame. “I’d like to extend my life as long as possible.”

“A wise decision, (Y/N).” He noted rather humorously, finally taking the time to look back at her. “I’ve watched you for some time now.”

Ignoring the implications and total creepiness of the statement, she instead asked, “How long?”

“Long enough to see the potential you have in greater things.” Sinestro replied and reached a hand out, a horde of golden glowing constructs appearing before her eyes. Her training with Batman, with Jason, even with Hal and the others—most importantly, the fight just before. “It hurts that he doesn’t trust you to be like him, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t respond, merely watching the moment of his hand coming back across her face over and over again as the feelings welled in her chest.

“You try so hard to be of use to Hal. To be a Green Lantern like him, but nothing you do makes him proud.” He gazed at her with something akin to pity, but it felt like a manipulation. “I understand your fear of failure…of shame.” Holding out his hand, he made her own raise beside her body and a yellow ring floated from his palm. “I can feel the anger inside you. Your fear fights to quell it.” Sinestro smiled. “I almost want to call Atrocitus and have him recruit you into the Red Corps.”

(Y/N)’s eyes fell to the ring, and she clenched her hand into a fist to keep it from sliding onto her finger. “I—I can’t be a Yellow Lantern.”

“Why not?”

“Why n—because you’re the enemy of the Green Lanterns!” she shouted. “I’d be betraying my father and my friends and my family!”

He gave her a knowing look. “The same family that looked upon you with shame every time you tried to wield the green power ring, but couldn’t?”

She felt like she’d been shot, and her jaw dropped. “I…”

Sinestro nodded. “I understand. But you don’t, (Y/N). Willpower must be had since birth. Fear however—” he reached out, uncurling her fingers. “Can be taught. And you have potential to be trained with terror.” He met her gaze. “You can’t be a Green Lantern like Hal wants…but you can become something he has to recognize. Something powerful. Something fearsome.”

(Y/N) stared at him, and this time, she didn’t fight as the ring slipped onto her finger. (Y/N) Jordan of Earth. You possess the ability to instill great fear. Welcome to the Sinestro Corps.

The world started swirling around her, golden flashes of light bound her body and she screamed in terror as her nightmares came alive before her. The chains coiled, almost like snakes creeping up her body, tighter and tighter around her throat and up around her skull. The last thing she saw through her fearful gaze was Sinestro laughing darkly and the world before her went dark and she was subjected to her minds torment, brought upon by the forged ring.

For a moment, the world was calm, then the chains fell away, and (Y/N) stood before Sinestro, clothed in an exo-suit, similar to her father’s, but instead of the bright, awe-inspiring green, it was a golden, fear-inducing yellow.

And when she opened her eyes, they narrowed onto Sinestro, and all she said was, “I’m ready to receive my orders.”

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Retaliation Invasion.”

Alright guys, hope you are excited about the continuation. Just a warning on this one,

WARNING Adam’s part requires him to cause physical injury to himself for certain purposes. If you have an issue with that sort of thing, don’t read that part. I don’t think it’s too bad, but I still wanted to warn you.

Sunny stood at the helm of her little ship, just behind the captain’s chair, one hand resting on it’s back. Her new pilot Lt. McCaster sat solemnly in the chair, hands tight around the controls of the ship. McCaster was an alright pilot, but he wasn’t Adam. She tried to shake that thought off watching the young man’s hands go white around the controls.

She could imagine Adam now, relaxed, his hands light on the controls, his body relaxed. Even before a mission like this, Adam had always been relaxed when at the helm of a ship, but now he was gone, and she had to force herself to remember that. In partial anger she turned away from the helm and stalked back into the depths of the ship.

She could hear whispering, not like that wasn’t commonplace. The ship was rather small, and there was always an echo.

It was almost time, but she couldn’t stand just waiting around, she had to do something with her hands to make her forget how she was feeling, forget all of this nonsense.

“So were the two of them, together?”

Sunny drew to a halt in the center of the hallway tilting her head slightly to one side. The inner depth of the ship were mostly shadow,, and the steel doors to the crew quarters and the tiny kitchen were closed, but still she could hear voices. At first she felt her heart raise in her chest, as the voice that came to her sounded familiar, only to be reminded that, Adam’s brother Thomas sounded a lot like him from a distance.

She paused in the shadows knowing she shouldn’t listen in, but not caring enough to actually pull back and give them privacy in their conversation.

“We…. think?” The voice belonged to Ramirez this time, and she frowned leaning in a little closer to listen.

“I would wager to say yes, though if they were, they didn’t advertise it.” Cannon now

She pressed her ear against the door, listening with an ever increasing frown as she heard them talking.

“Sounds like Adam, he was always sort of weird about that kind of stuff.”

There was a sigh, “Yeah, he was, wasn’t he. Do you know what that was all about…. Or….?”

“Not really mom always said he was just shy about that sort of thing, but I think it had something to do with what happened to him at school.”

“Something happened?”

“Yeah, you know how kids are. When you’re the weird kid, they like to come in and make fun of you. There was a group of girls that did that hey pst my friend has a crush on you thing. Of course, Adam fell for it he was always a little gullible, and when he showed up there was a whole group of people there who made mercilus fun of him.” He paused, “Now that I think about it, Adam doesn’t exactly have a track record of good experiences with women. The guys usually just ignored him mostly, sort of just dealt with him, but the girls were pretty brutal. I wonder if that’s what made him the way he is.”

There was a quiet pause, “I’m sorry to hear that, he, never said anything.”

“Of course he wouldn’t, what do you expect him to walk up and say, hello everyone my name is Adam and I have a crippling fear of women and intimacy because all of my prior experiences have been painful and humiliating?”

“Alright alright, I get your point.”

Another pause before-

“Either way, I am glad he had someone before he….”

Thomas’s voice trailed off lamely. In anger, Sunny bared her teeth and turned away from the door stalking back into the darkness of the ship. Why did everyone have to keep talking about him, it was over, and done with. He was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. When she stepped into her little room she tried distracting herself with something but ended up pacing around in anger and hopeless frustration.

Thomas was wrong.

He hadn’t had anyone before he died, not really, and that was the worst part.

And the fact that he had never told her about that meant they weren’t nearly as close as she thought they were.

The very idea of it had her practically spinning in a rage and grief stricken circle.

“All personnel to their stations, we warp in five.”

Relieved Sunny jogged from the back room and back onto the bridge where McCaster was preparing the ship for its journey. IN the space around them, above the human homeworld, hundreds of GA and UNSC ships were gathering for the final push winking and glittering in the diffused light of space, light reflecting up from the glassy planet below.

There was a clattering behind her as the rest of the crew filtered onto the bridge.

“Everyone to your stations.” Sunny ordered quietly, and without a word they moved to do as she asked.

Sunny turned her head back to the open window hand gripping tightly around her spear.

This was it.

***

IT wasn’t the entire GA fleet that showed up above the burg planet, but it was enough to look like it. The burg didn’t bother answering their call to surrender, and deployed their entire fleet in response to the sudden arrival of the GA armada.

IT was their panic that allowed for that crucial mistake, and that is when the second half of the GA appeared behind them, heming the burg in a large circle just in firing range for the Celex command ship. It only took a single blast of energy to turn most of their ships to dust, though many of their more clever commanders managed to survive by outmaneuvering the blast.

In the first few minutes of the conflict, 12 burg ships had been destroyed along with three GA ships.

The battle continued, the large portion of the GA fleet keeping the burg occupied as the RUndi Imperial cruiser and it’s deadly cargo dropped into low orbit above the planet. When they did pods detached from either side of the ship and dropped quickly into atmosphere.

Inside the pods careening towards the ground thousands of human shock troopers were cheering, praying, or mentally preparing themselves for battle. They had only one mission, to take down the burg capital city. Each of them had four weapons at their disposal trained on them by their commanders long before this conflict arrived, and one technically trained on them since childhood. They had a compact carbine for working in the caves of the planet and electronic hearing protection from the blast. They each had a sidearm, they each had a large knife, and --as their commanders had reminded them -- the burg don’t do well with human spit, so there is always another close rang option: spit in their faces.

The attack happened so quickly, that the burg were still scrambling to respond as the shock troopers were ejected from the pods at low altitude parachutes opening just long enough to catch their fall before hitting the ground.

Some weren’t so lucky and broke their legs on impact, but the vast majority of them landed safely and threw their gear off, some turning to tend to the few wounded while the others pushed on, concealing themselves quickly behind rocks and patches of low hanging vines.

The burg themselves watched in hopeless surprise, some only alerted by the sound of the descending engines and the thundering voices of the shock troopers as they landed overhead. They had no time to react as flash grenades were tossed downwards into their caves to devastating effect.

Humans filtered in from above clambering down the walls like spiders, or, sometimes, dropping in only to catch and roll on the ground coming up with just enough time to take out anyone who dared cause problems.

Delta units were deployed along their flanks, the mobile machine guns mowing down any heavy attempt for the burg to dig in. Smaller mobile units -- humans carrying a Celzex. Slipped through tight opening in the rocks and into the Burg breeding nests. Those that had been left to guard the bulbus saccules that contained their larvae were ordered to surrender or were taken out with great prejudice.

One Burg had a shock trooper pinned to the floor with its many legs, but the shock trooper didn’t waste a moment and spat violently into the creature’’s face. It wheeled away screaming and clawing at its eyes the human scrambled to their feet and continued the push forward.

WIthin all of this commotion, a small ship managed to slip unnoticed through the chaos, landing further into the burg city than any of the other shock troopers had dared. There, in a shallow gully behind a pile of rock and a coating of vines, a quiet group of Drev/human insurgents slipped into a nearby hole leading them down into the burg nest, their weapons out and ready.

Death was coming, and today she wore blue.

***

I sat at the center of the enclosure, legs folded under myself, hands resting on knees. I was waiting. The clear glass opening in front of me shimmered in the morning sun, and I cracked my neck and knuckles lightly as I stared back at my warped reflection.

I wasn’t looking so bad.

Probably a little like I had on Anin. My beard was growing back and my hair was beginning to tickle at the tops of my ears. My feet had grown hard from not wearing shoes, and the wounds on my chest from the blue space raptor had healed over mostly, leaving me with three livid red scars across the left side of my chest.

IT would be a pretty badass battle scar when all was said and done.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been here, at least a month since the crash maybe, and that meant thirty days of people assuming that I was dead. They would be wrong, however, as I was now a prisoner to the masses, nothing more than an animal in a zoo to be stared at and ogled at all hours of the day.

I shifted slightly, watching as a family of these strange aliens paused in front of the window, pressing their eyes up against the glass to get a better look at me. Once this was all over, and I got back to earth, I was never going to a zoo ever again. I glanced up towards the top of the cage watching as other aliens walked past on the high walkways, looking down at me from above and pointing.

What did I know about this place?

Not as little as you would think.

Judging from the amount of people I saw every day, and form the little bit I could see out the small viewing window, there were quite a few people, making me assume that the zoo was a relatively big one. Off in the distance I could often hera the call of large animals, their voices so deep that it rocked the sand underneath my feet. THere was no way something could make a noise like that without being absolutely massive.

Wherever they were they were also very advanced and well funded.

Mechanical drones came in every three or so days to clean up after me.

However when it came to feeding time, I was fed mostly by hand through the back bars on my enclosure. Every day they would move the food closer and closer to themselves as if to get me used to them, as if they were trying to socialize me.

I played along with their game knowing that it would only help me in the end. They hadn’t bothered to try and remove the Iron eye suit, and I was counting on it being my one saving grace.

The iron eye suit could increase my strength by a factor of five, and it was going to be what got me out of here if anything did.

For the last few days, I had been working on determining just how much of an eye they kept on me.

It tested them at all hours of the day and night, deciding when their reaction time was the slowest, and when the cameras were not trained on me. I didn’t cause all that much of a problem, nothing that they oculdn’t handle, and I certainly didn’t keep the behavior up for very long.

I just wanted their response time.

At first it had been hard to come up with a situation in where I wouldn’t seem threatening, but would also call in a response from them. Sometimes, I had to make difficult decisions. Running around and acting insane just pleased the guests, and trying to climb the outer cage would just have given away my true intentions, no, I kept it all on the ground.

How did I get their attention?

Well, that was easy.

I ruined their property. Unfortunately, that meant me.

It had been hard the first time, to hurt myself in order to get them to come running, but I knew that this was going to be my only way out. The first few times, I really went for it, probably giving myself some of the worst scars I was ever going to have. The stone tip of my made up arrow heads were pretty useful, and surprisingly sharp that the first time I tried it, I sliced myself open pretty horrifically.

You know how there are some wounds where you just look at them and then shrug and move on, but there are others where you look at them and you begin to shake because you realize that this may be more serious than you intended. Well yeah,the first time it happened, I watched as blood began spilling down my arm and dripping off my elbow.

IT was pretty gruesome, staining the sand below my feet red.

A part of me wondered if they would even notice, and in a half panic I walked to the viewing window and put my hands to the glass. Someone was bound to notice.

And I was right.

Their response time on that first go round was probably three minutes, though I had difficulty counting.

The worst part of all that was getting tranquilized and waking up later in my little leaf nest stitched back together.

I would have to do that several more times, though my first time had spooked someone enough that, I didn’t have to get nearly so drastic the second or third time around. I just had to pretend, and they would usually come running.

I switched it up most days, trying to make the self destructive behavior look bad enough to get them calling.

I had learned that their best response time was during open hours, middle of the day around noon.

They responded very well at what I would have guessed were eleven in the morning and three in the evening. Following that was nine and seven. Their worst response time so far had been late at night around two in the morning.

It had taken them almost ten minutes to notice and get around to me.

Ever since my behavior had started up, I had come to notice new things appearing in my enclosure. It was mostly puzzles of some sort, fun ways to get food. They probably thought my self-destructive behavior had to do with boredom like a Border Collie or a German Shepherd left alone for too long.

I didn’t give them the satisfaction of playing their games.

Just one or two more times, and I could be done with this.

I stood slowly and walked forward towards the viewing window. The aliens behind it shifted and pointed and pressed themselves up against the glass as I moved forward. I pressed my hands to the cold material, looking in at the strange figure behind the glass.

I rested my forehead against the window and closed my eyes.

I sighed.

I missed Sunny. If I imagined hard enough, I could almost imagine the gold glass against my face was the cold blue of her carapace, but even my imagination only goes so far, and after a minute I opened my eyes and stepped back from the window.

I looked down at my hand, where the skin on my knuckles had peeled back to leave a weeping pink soar from where I had punch the walls so many times to get the attention of the zoo staff.

I was going to do it again. The skin around those soars were blue and black and fading yellow with the bruises.

I drew my fist back, making sure not to engage the Iron eye armor for fear of actually breaking something.

An escape wouldn't do here if it was in broad daylight.

I knew I would only have one shot.

I slammed my knuckles against the glass sending a jarring pain up through my arm.

IT hurt so bad as my already sore hand throbbed, but I kept going. I knew from experience it wouldn’t take much to reopen the wound, and I was right, one or two punches, and blood was already trickling down my hand and staining the glass.

I began my countdown begging that they would hurry up.

IT was around 1 in the afternoon, and they came at about four minutes.

I heard the drone before I saw it, turning on a dime just as the small dart shot into my chest.

Here we go again.

My vision went immediately sideways.

MY legs went weak like jelly, and I hit the ground, collapsing as the paralytic took effect.

It didn’t completely knock me out but it stopped me from moving, and it must have had some sort of calming agent in there, because the paralysis didn’t bother me as much as it honestly should have.

I lay on the ground as the keepers hurried into the pen.

A drone was already cleaning the window as I was picked up and moved back towards the nest.

My uninjured hand trailed in the sand before they lay me down on the pile of leaves, gently taking my other hand to fix it. I was numbed from the fingers down to my elbow.

I closed my eyes as they worked imagining that it might be krill there instead of these strange alien species.

I imagined the voices of my friends.

My family.

My dog.

They left me there alone to recover from the drugging.

Phase one was complete, tomorrow would mark the beginning of phase two, and I was ready.

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zaph1337 · 3 years

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Monster Hunter Rating 12: Velociprey, the Cunning Raiders

Well, it was nice enjoying things while it lasted. Let’s see how the Velociprey disappoints me by being like the other two raptors I’ve talked about.

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 1)

(How it appears in Monster Hunter 4)

Appearance: Well, this is interesting. The Velociprey is, if you couldn’t guess, based on the velociraptor, which is the raptor that I feel most people associate with feathered dinosaurs. This might have been reflected in the Velociprey’s birdlike beak--something no other Gen-1 raptor has--but that makes no sense, because velociraptors were confirmed to have feathers in 2007, way after MH1 was released, so it’s likely a coincidence. They also have a head crest and...seven fingers on each hand? What’s even the point of that? It can’t hold anything, not with the way those fingers are set up. Speaking of which, the developers literally gave Velocipreys hands that look like they belong on a stick figure a child drew; a shape vaguely resembling a circle/oval with lines coming out for the fingers. It’s stupid. I will give them credit for the color scheme, though; that shade of blue with those black stripes looks really good. Overall, these guys definitely have my favorite design out of the raptors (mostly because of the colors), but by God, those hands ruin it. 6/10.

Behavior: We all know that these guys are gonna be pack hunters with a Velocidrome, so the question is “how good are they at hunting?” well, it turns out that Velocipreys have highly developed brains that are designed for formulating hunting strategies in a short amount of time. The previous raptors used plans, too, but the thing that sets the Velocipreys apart is that they don’t need the Velocidrome to make them. Yes, the Velocidrome does give orders when its around (I’ll elaborate on that when I talk about them), but the Velocipreys are perfectly capable of coordinating attacks on their own thanks to their wide range of calls and, again, their intellect. They’re still low on the food chain, but together they can kill monsters as big as an Aptonoth, even without a Velocidrome’s help. These guys may be very similar to the other raptors in terms of behavior, but the fact that they just do it better makes it a little more interesting. 6/10.

Abilities: This is where the Velociprey starts to fall short; the Genprey had neurotoxins and the Ioprey had a chem-lab’s worth of poison, but the Velociprey has...nothing like that at all. It relies entirely on smarts, sharp claws and teeth, and sheer speed (which, to be fair, is likely greater than that of the other raptors) to take down its enemies. The Velociprey’s fangs are interesting, though: despite how thin they are, they’re stupid tough; even a bomb to the face won’t break them. Other than that, the Velociprey has nothing that really makes it more interesting than its cousins in this department. 4/10.

Equipment: Aaaaaand now we’ve hit Rock *pbbbt* Bottom *pbbbt*. Just like the Ioprey, most of the Velociprey’s equipment is the same as the Genprey’s, but recolored. Here’s the Serpent Bite, a Sword and Shield:

Okay, I do like this better than the Viper and Hydra Bites, but that’s just because it’s blue. I’m still obligated to show off a Velociprey weapon with a unique design, so here’s the Velociprey Balloon, a Hunting Horn:

...the Genprey had a Hunting Horn that looked like an electric guitar. They could have made the Velociprey one an electric guitar, too. We could have had an awesome black and blue electric guitar, but nope! We got an abomination that looks like it wants to die, even though it’s made from monster parts and isn’t even alive to begin with. Sure! That’s fair! NO I’M NOT BITTER WHY DO YOU ASK

Okay, to be fair, the electric guitar’s from Monster Hunter Frontier G; the Gendrome has a Hunting Horn that looks just like this one in Monster Hunter Online (I’m still considering the Balloon a unique weapon for the Velociprey because the Genprey doesn’t have one like it and Monster Hunter Online came out years after the first game the Velociprey Balloon appeared in).

Stepping away from...that, remember how the raptors all had suits, but the wiki didn’t have images of the Ioprey’s? Well, good news (or bad, depending on how you look at it)! The Velociprey Suit’s here for your viewing pleasure (or discomfort, depending on how you look at it):

This is just a recolor of the Genprey Suit with minor edits, which, to be honest, I should have seen coming since these things were compared to the ones used by Power Rangers. They even kept the girl’s unnecessary heart-window in the chest, how lovely! And what’s behind door number 2?

I don’t...I can’t...WHY IS THE MALE ARMOR SO DULL!? The female armor is as bright as the scales it’s made from, why did they make the male armor look like the sky during a rainstorm when it uses the same scales!? Ugh, this is so frustrating. This easily would have been my favorite armor set of the raptors’ if they didn’t screw the color up on the male armor so bad. I also have to dock the Velociprey’s equipment a point for being recolored from the Genprey’s...but it’s still my favorite color-wise and perfect objectivity is a sham so I’m giving in to bias and giving it a 5/10 anyways.

Final Thoughts and Tally: It’s funny: the Velociprey is my favorite raptor just going off of design, but score-wise, it ranks the same as its cousins. I didn’t even do that on purpose, that’s just what the scores kept averaging out to. I guess it makes sense that monsters which were made to be so similar to each other would end up being about as interesting as each other in the end. But the next monster’s definitely gonna be more interesting, so stay tuned for that! But for the Velociprey, 5/10.

#monster hunter #monster hunter rating #zaph1337

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shadowphoenixrider · 4 years

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Seeds

(Okay, I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for ages, and this prompt was the best chance to actually put it down! Because it’s canon to Draggka/Khadgar, it’s being treated like a Proper Fic(tm). So people get tagged. YEA: @walkingdisasterofamage, @sigurdjarlson, @galleywinter, @fer8girl, @elfgirl931 and @wingslovesfiction)

(Set in early Warlords of Draenor)

16 - Feeding birds

The weather was particularly mild on the day Khadgar strolled through Frostwall, stepping out of the way of peons hurriedly ferrying crates to and fro. They paid the human mage little mind - even the Darkspear guards merely nodded at him as he passed, and he felt a little swell of pride as he wondered if this was the beginning of some sort of peace between the two factions. Surely if they could tolerate him, maybe they could tolerate each other...?

That wasn’t the main issue on his mind this time, however - it was to find Frostwall’s commander, who he hoped might be in the garrison’s central Town Hall. He had asked a few of the patrolling guards, but all they could offer was that she might be out adventuring. Khadgar hoped not - adventurers could be notoriously difficult to track down, and hunters more so. Only rogues could compete with how completely a hunter could melt away into the background.

The archmage was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the wheezy grunts and coughs that came from behind him. It was only when his robes were tugged with some force did he snap back to reality, and turned around to see the culprit.

Said culprit was a scarred red raptor that Khadgar recognised as Draggka’s companion Spike, peering up at him with bright blue eyes. His mood buoyed - a hunter was never too far from their pet.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling down at the raptor. “I’m looking for your companion Draggka. Could you perhaps take me to her?”

Spike tilted his head, then bobbed it in what looked like a nod, uttering a raptor-bark and jerking his head in a ‘follow me’ gesture.

“Lead on. I’ll be right behind you.” Khadgar said, following in the beast’s wake.

He led the mage out of Frostwall and into the sparse woodland clinging to the rocky hill the fortress was nestled into. He did briefly wonder if the raptor was leading him into a trap, but dismissed the thought with a shake of his head - he was fairly confident that the troll wouldn’t do such a thing.

Spike brought him to a large rock jutting out of the snowy ground, and stopped next to it, looking from it to the mage.

“What? Where is-?” As Khadgar spoke, the raptor snapped at him, shaking his head. To the archmage’s surprise, Spike dipped his head, placing a claw to his mouth in an unmistakable ‘shush’ gesture, before he nodded to the rock again.

Impressed (and slightly unsettled) by the raptor’s intelligence, Khadgar silently hauled himself up onto the rock to see what was on the other side. What he saw made him freeze.

Down below him was Draggka, kneeling in the snow by a tree, her hands cupped together and full of what appeared to be seeds. Movement in the tree drew his eyes to a plump orange and white bird, hopping down to the lowest branch and peering down at the troll and the food in her hands.

Khadgar inched himself a little more onto the boulder, unwilling to move further in case he disturbed the scene in front him.

Draggka didn’t move from her position; aside from the steam lifting from her nose and the occasional blink she could have been mistaken for a statue. The bird edged closer along the branch, clearly warring with itself whether it should take the food that was possibly being held by a predator. It tilted its head, uttering small twittering noises. Khadgar could have sworn he saw the troll’s ears twitch.

The little bird reached the end of its branch, and leaned down towards her. If it stretched any further, it would have to take wing or fall. The mage barely dared to even breathe.

A chirrup, and the bird fluttered to land on Draggka’s hands. After a pensive stare at the hunter, it began to peck at the seeds, at first tentatively, then more hungrily as it felt safer. Khadgar slowly released the breath he’d been holding, smiling broadly.

What a beautiful scene to witness. Had he wanted to tear his eyes away from the sight, he would have thanked Spike for allowing him to see the raptor’s companion so unguarded and tender. The archmage was briefly reminded of all the text books, tomes and lectures about trolls - described as savage, bloodthirsty creatures, who enjoyed death, torture and other horrible things. And yet here was one feeding a bird out of what seemed to be the kindness of her heart. She hadn’t moved an inch as her feathery friend pecked away, but he could see her smile from his perch. Despite the chill, the sight warmed him.

For reasons known only to itself, the bird decided enough was enough, and after a friendly chirrup at the troll, it flew off into the trees. Finally able to move again, Draggka’s smile broke into a grin, looking rightfully proud of herself, and wondrously happy.

Khadgar decided that was the perfect time to leave, and not intrude on her privacy any longer. He’d head back to the garrison and meet her there; he could send his servant out to let her know he awaited her.

Before he could shuffle back and off the rock, however, Khadgar was suddenly pushed forcefully from behind. Balanced as awkwardly as he was, with no grip to speak off and taken by surprise, the mage tumbled off the boulder with a cry, landing in a completely ungainly heap in the snow.

A loud Zandali expletive sounded out from the startled hunter, whilst Khadgar groaned, slowly moving to sit upright and cursing the new aches and bruises that would greet him the next morning. And the snow that had managed to get down the back of his neck.

“Archmage?! What are ya doin’ here?” Draggka demanded, one fist hidden awkwardly behind her back as she strode over to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Commander. I, I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He stuttered, grabbing Atiesh and using it to get to his feet in a hopefully more dignified manner than his entrance had been. “I’ve been looking for you, to speak to you in regards to my plan to find Kairos.” He flashed her a weak smile. “I, um, saw your raptor, and followed him to this area.” His eyes darted around, searching for Spike and finding him completely absent. Despite the fact the raptor was bright red amongst white snow. “And, I, well, stumbled upon you. Quite literally, it seems!” He grinned widely, feeling the awkwardness crawl down his neck and a blush rise into his face. “I-I’m sorry if, if I interrupted anything...private.”

She did not look convinced by his pathetic explanation, one eyebrow arching up her forehead. Thankfully, she politely humoured him.

“I see. Well, if ya be wanting to talk ‘bout what we be doing next, we best be headin’ back to da garrison.” She tilted her head, her eyes taking him in with a critical edge. “Ya be needin’ to get somewhere warm before dat snow chills ya.”

“Snow?” Khadgar blinked stupidly. “Oh, yes!” He chuckled, brushing off the bits that hadn’t yet melted into his robes. “O-Of course. A very good idea, Commander. Please, lead on. Perhaps your friend will rejoin us when he’s finished...doing whatever it is he does.”

“He will. He never be far from me.” Draggka smiled, genuinely now as they began their walk. “Be good of him to be leading ya to me. He must like ya.”

“Oh, really?” He was surprised, both at the information and how strangely proud he felt about it. Yet he couldn’t help but feel the raptor’s intentions hadn’t been entirely pure. Especially since he had mysteriously disappeared after the wizard’s fall.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Usually he just be ignoring people.”

“I see. So he wouldn’t deliberately mislead someone following him, like for instance, leading them into a trap?” Or to make a complete fool of themselves in front of someone?

“Oh no, he can be misleading people, but only enemies.” She replied, giving him a look. “Dat be an odd ting to say.”

“O-Oh well,” Khadgar laughed nervously, face burning up. “I-I’d heard that it’s a tactic some, some hunters use. I was wondering if, if it was perhaps one you used yourself?”

The troll giggled, and the sounds was so pure and benign it made him smile.

“Ah, but dat be a secret, Archmage! I can’t be telling ya my battle tactics. Den ya be using dem against me!”

“Oh no no, not all!” Khadgar hurriedly assured her, despite her mirth. “You are my ally, a-and a trusted one too. Anything you say to me is in trusted confidence. I will not breathe a word to anyone.” He brought a finger to his lips.

“Uh huh.” Draggka didn’t sound convinced, but her smile was still there, which Khadgar found reassuring.

Elsewhere, just out of sight, Spike watched them as they walked back. He sighed, blowing a breath out of his nose.

This was going to take some work.

(Link to challenge)

#world of warcraft #khadgar #draggka #oc/khadgar #draggka/khadgar #otp: walk on the wild side #sprs writing #feeding birds #spike is a troll #world of ocxcanon-craft #oc x canon #fluff #awkwardness #very early romance

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canid-slashclaw · 5 years

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Pocket Raptor Surprise

The heat from the midday sun beat down relentlessly upon the parched soil of the Dry Step Mesas. Off in the distance, massive vines snaked their way up from a ravine that looked as if the surface of Tyria itself had cracked open releasing some ancient and malevolent force. For a certain pair of intrepid (and over fashionably-dressed) bounty hunters, such trivial things were the least of their concern.

Amalthia tilted her head back as she raised a metal canteen to her gaping maw then shook the container a few times before giving her human husband an apprehensive gaze.

“Kal?”

“Yeah, babe?” Kaleb replied as he noticed a decidedly scolding look on her face.

“Did you, like, happen to forget to bring some extra water rations after knowing full-well that we’d be trouncing around in a godsforsaken freakin’ desert?!”

“Um, no,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, wasn’t that your responsibility? You know-- taking care of provisions and all?” He, then, gestured to her with a pistol finger and wink.

His action only enabled his wife in unleashing both her inner, as well as outer, charr. “My responsibility? Are you freaking kidding me!? You damn know good and well that it is my job to maintain all the weaponry and your job to handle the other logistics… like keeping us fed and hydrated. After all, you are the chef de partie of our little outfit, right?”

“Woah, woah. Stop right there, miss pissykitty! Just ‘cause you have fangs, horns and a furry tail doesn’t automatically make you the only master-at-arms here. We’re a team, remember? It’s both our jobs to watch each others’ backs.” He stepped closer towards her offering his hand.

She looked away, bowed her head, sighed for a moment before looking back into his eyes then letting out a subdued growl. “Gah! You’ve got a point. Sorry, love. It’s just this heat is really putting me in a pissy mood.”

He gently clasped hold of her paw then gave her a kiss on her lower right ear. “I’m sorry too, babe. For being an idiot and all. Yeah. The forgetting the water thing? That’s totally on me.” Amalthia leaned her head into his, gave him a gentle nuzzle under his chin then licked him on the face. “Why yes it is. But I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you... this time. But piss me off again and you’ll find yourself greasing your own piston for at least the next six months.”

“Well that’s comforting to know. At least we can cling to each other until we succumb to dehydration and someone eventually finds our mummified remains lovingly wrapped in each others’ deathly embrace,” Kaleb said with a smile as he began to massage the back of her thickly muscled neck.

She looked lovingly into his brown eyes as a fangy smile flashed across her face. “Mister Grimwald – you have got to be the most wonderful bundle of human weirdness that I’ve ever come across. Okay… I think the heat is really getting to me now.”

“Why’d you say that?” Kaleb looked at her puzzled.

Her ears began to twitch. “Don’t you hear it? Oh wait… your hearing isn’t as sensitive as mine.”

“No. I do hear it. Oh wait… look!” He swung his head around suddenly then pointed towards what appeared to be a chicken-sized velociraptor. She turned and saw it as well.

“Hey little guy.” Kaleb reached into his coat pocket then pulled out a roll of dried meat as he began waving it at the small creature. The raptor cautiously backed away from him while making a high-pitched chirping noise. “I’ve got some jerky. Wanna try?”

Amalthia shook her head. “Um. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kal.”

“Aww. C’mon, Ama. How bad can a little fella like this be?” Kaleb said as he pointed towards what appeared to be the creature’s nest. “Hey look. Eggs. If we take one each to nourish ourselves and save the rest, then maybe we can hatch them. Katie always wanted an unusual pet.”

His charr wife let out a more forceful growl this time. “No! We are not hatching anything that comes from this awful place. Remember why we came here -- for the bounties, right?”

Her husband huffed. “For the bounties. I got it. But, dammit Ama, we could raise a clutch of these and sell ‘em in Lion’s Arch for a fair amount of coin. I mean what kid wouldn’t want one of these for a pet?”

Shaking her head, Amalthia promptly reached into her husband’s rucksack then pulled out a field guide titled, Tyria’s Field Guide to Native Flora and Fauna Vol. IX. Using her long clawed index finger, she quickly thumbed through the pages until found what she was looking for.

“Let’s see. Raptors… raptors… Big, mean teethy, poison clawed… Oh. Here it is!” She looked up only to find that her husband had suddenly darted off towards one of the nests. As she watched him snatch up the eggs then put them into his rucksack, she began to read aloud what was in the guide. “Pauxillum fiken talus admorsus – or more commonly known as the Pocket Raptor, is a diminutive subspecies of the common featherbeak raptor and is almost exclusively found in the Heart of the Magumma Jungle and is… oh for Scorchgazer’s sake... are you even paying attention to me, Kal!?”

Her husband gave her a thumbs up even though he was still engrossed in gathering up more eggs from the nest.

“It says pocket raptors are vicious creatures that will bite your face off if half given the chance. So you’d better put those eggs back now before mamma comes back.” She angrily snapped the book closed then shoved it down into her pants pocket.

The mesa suddenly became alive with dozens of high-pitched chirping noises. As Kaleb stowed away the last of the eggs, he was immediately greeted by three more of the tiny raptors. Each of them tilted their heads trying to get him into their field of vision as they began moving towards him at an alarmingly brisk pace.

“Back away from them, Kal. Now!” Amalthia yelled just seconds before the trio lunged at her husband.

With reflexes rivaling those of a cat, Kaleb dodged the assault as the three little beasts leaped just inches above his face. Whirling around as fast as he could he pulled forth his revolvers, Sweet Pea and Lulu, then leveled the barrels at his attackers making sure that his wife was not in the line of fire. The bore of each pistol erupted in a plume of red-hot gas as two of the critters exploded into grizzly globs of flesh and guts; the demise of the third followed a split second later.

Amalthia drew a holosmithing sword from her waistband as her entire body became aglow in a brightly lit shroud of charged energy. Scores more of the creatures appeared from practically every nearby nook and cranny as they began swarming the couple from all angles. A series of deft swishes from her alighted blade reduced several of the vicious attackers to piles of dust as more of the ravenous critters quickly emerged to take the place of their fallen littermates.

“We’ve got to get the hell out of here!” His wife said as her energy shroud began to take on a faint red glow. “Either this asuratech, or my temper is gonna blow at any moment. And when it does, I promise it isn’t going to be pretty.”

Kaleb holstered his pistols then drew forth the greatsword that he had slung on his back. “Bob – time for some action!”

With a series of lightning fast strokes, Kaleb and ‘Bob’ managed to cleave dozens of the little beasts in two as he re-positioned himself in a back-to-back stance with his wife. Moving with an unspoken synchronicity, the husband and wife bounty hunter team hacked and slashed their way through the onslaught until they reached the relative safety of a nearby natural bridge.

Amalthia pointed towards a bluff in the distance. “Hey, look. A downed airship. I’m willing to bet there are some supplies up there, including water.”

Kaleb shook his head. “An airship? Damn, we must have overlooked it the first time around. How could we have missed seeing something that obvious?”

Amalthia laughed. “Because you, dear husband, were too damn busy picking up raptor eggs for your little pet menagerie.”

As the couple wandered closer, several figures began to emerged from atop the bluff. Clad in black and silver armor, the pair quickly realized the individuals were Pact soldiers who were most likely survivors of the airship crash.

“Ho there, stranger,” yelled the tallest Pact member who obviously looked to be a norn and, was in all probability, the leader of the group.

After they met up with the surviving Pact members, Kaleb and Amalthia pitched in to help set up a makeshift camp complete with a mess hall and cooking station. As Kaleb sat down and began guzzling down a huge stein of fresh water, the Pact leader sat down beside him and chuckled. “Word has reached my ears that your cooking skills are the stuff of legends. Thanks to you and your amazing, and also most unusual wife, my troops will enjoy the first good meal they’ve had in a good long time.” Kaleb smiled at the compliment. “Your ears wouldn’t be wrong. But the misses? She’s one helluva cook too, yanno. Not that I had anything to do with it, mind you.” The Pact leader let out a boisterous laugh as he gave Kaleb a hearty slap on the back. “By the spirits, you must be part norn. At least in heart anyway.”

“Chow had better be ready soon. Moog has been staring at me for the last hour. It is not that his staring alone that has me concerned so much as when he starts staring at the salad condiments then back at me that gives me some pause for concern. Not that I think he would actually do anything, mind you, but...” a sylvari Pact member said as he casually pointed towards his asura comrade.

“Oh please. Just looking at you gives me indigestion. Where is our sustenance?”

“Say please.” Amalthia’s voice chimed throughout the tent as she walked towards the table carrying a pan of what appeared to be full of some type of fluffy yellow substance. “Be careful. It’s very hot.” Kaleb looked at his wife and beamed. “Damn, babe! I can’t wait to try it.” She smiled back, her fangs showing. “And I can’t wait for you to try it, my love.”

Once the portions were doled out, everyone in the camp ate heartily then thanked Amalthia for the delicious meal. She sat down beside her husband and nestled her chin atop his head.

The norn Pact leader looked at the unusual couple and commented, “that whatever it was, was absolutely amazing! What did you call it, again?”

Both Kaleb and Amalthia said in union, a frittata.

The norn looked dumbfounded. “Oh. It tasted just like eggs.”

“That’s ‘cause frittatas are made with eggs,” Kaleb pointed out. Amalthia just nodded with a smiling closed-eyed grin.

“Oh. I see. That meal must have been truly magical because during the crash, our only container of poultry products was smashed against the rocks.”

Then it suddenly dawned on Kaleb. He turned around then looked his charr wife in her eyes then asked, “Ama?”

“Yes, Kal?”

“What did you use to make that frittata?”

She rolled her amber eyes, put a clawed index finger to her pursed lips then looked up for a moment before looking back at Kaleb. “Just what was on-hand. Why?”

“Eggs. Where did you get the eggs?” Kaleb demanded. The norn butted in. “Yes. Such a meal is deserving of a special name. Something memorable, something legendary!”

Amalthia scratched her chin for a moment before responding. “Something memorable... something legendary. Hmm. Let’s see -- I suppose the only thing one could possibly call it is...

...Pocket Raptor Surprise!”

#gw2 #gw2 fanfic #gw2 writing #guildwars 2 fanfic #guildwars 2 writing #the outliers #kaleb grimwald #amalthia steelblade #gw2 humor #gw2 fanfiction #tyriaslibrary

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 7 years

Text

Modern Animorphs AU (part 2)

@jollysunflora : The second half of my complete list of modern AU Animorphs headcanons, approximately one per book.

28. “Ax,” Marco says, “How come you can roll out ‘venti dulce de leche dark-chocolate frappuchino extra whip’ without batting an eye, but you giggle every time you have to say the word ‘soy’?”

“It has so many vowel—owl?—sounds, in so little space,” Ax says. “That long sssssssssss, so pleasant on the tongue, but then that odd oooyyy ooy-yah? All in the back of the mouth. Very strange. Sssoooy. Ssususs-oooyaaa.”

“Also, he’s moved on from the frappuchinos,” Tobias adds. “Now he keeps spending all our hard-stolen bitcoins on espresso mack... mach...”

“Espresso macchiato con panna,” Ax explains. “Doppio.”

29. Cassie feels herself sweating as she props the laptop across the room from her, tools laid out and Ax unconscious on the table. She never expected to find a YouTube video on how to perform brain surgery—and to be honest, it’s actually about “how neurosurgeons perform an orbitozygomatic craniotomy,” not intended to be a how-to manual—but it’s the best she can do under the circumstances, and so she’ll follow along for now.

MM3. “That’s the kind of strong leadership we need.” Jake gestures to the full-color television (this year’s latest model) where a program of their current leader plays on a loop. “Keeping the wrong kind of people out of this country, saving America for the right kind of Americans.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rachel says. She and Tobias and Jake are the only three Animorphs, except when Melissa joins them sometimes, and listening to their “Supreme Leader” blather on gets old sometimes. “All I want to know is whether it’s true that within a few years people will really have phones that plug into their cars. That’d be cool.”

Tobias rubs his eyes against the silk of his wing feathers. They itch constantly, since he doesn’t have a gas mask to wear every time he goes out into the pollution-opaque air outside the way that his human friends do. Jake and Rachel take bets sometimes, idly, brutally, about whether he’s the last raptor left on the face of the planet.

“Magnificent!” Drode appears in their midst, and both the Berensons immediately point guns at his head.

30. Marco is lying on his bed the day after watching Eva fall, staring at a patch of wall above his dresser, when he registers that his phone has been buzzing for a while now. It goes off so many times he assumes he has to be getting a call, but when he checks his notifications he just discovers he’s gotten seventeen text messages in the last hour.

The first is from “Smurfette,” and says “Did you know that there is a type of food that involves baking a cinnamon bun inside of a donut? We must secure as many of these as it is possible for a human to consume, as soon as possible!”

The next one, from “Hawkgirl,” reads: “found out recently that apparently ax still thinks you invented flea powder. i told him that if youd invented flea powder wed all be a lot richer right now.”

“Team Dad” (not to be confused with “Real Dad,” which is how Marco lists Peter) sent along several invitations to team missions on League of Legends this afternoon, along with a threat to have Cassie play Marco’s avatar if Marco doesn’t join in. “we both know that by the time you get back you’ll have only healing attacks and she’ll have trained it to apologize automatically for stabbing people,” Jake adds.

One of the many texts from “Julia Butterfly Hill” suggests that Jake has underestimated Cassie’s diabolical streak, because it’s a screenshot of a clone of his account which has had its name changed to HarambeWasFramed.

The real surprise, however, is the single text from “Xena: Warrior Princess.” It’s a link to an article about a disaster in the local national park and the efforts to clean up the wreckage of an as-yet-unidentified craft which went down in the canyon. Marco has to read it a few times to understand the point she’s making, because it’s all about what’s not there: the article makes no mention of any human bodies being found among the wreckage.

Marco gets halfway through typing a reply to them all which informs them in no uncertain terms that he sees through their transparent attempts to cheer him up and doesn’t appreciate it, but he deletes without sending. He can practically hear his mom’s voice saying it: he can focus on the fact that he’s still surrounded by people who love him, or he can focus on the negative side of everything. And being constantly negative is no way to live.

31. “Sharing this again, because its been 3 months,” Jake’s cousin Brooke posts on Facebook. “Anyone who has any news at all about Saddler, no matter what it is, PLEASE contact my family. Big brother, I dont know if youre still out there, but I miss you. I miss you like crazy.”

Jake turns up his Spotify’s Offspring channel a little louder to drown out the sounds of Tom and his dad shouting at each other downstairs. His eyes flinch past Brooke’s post, but they can’t move fast enough to prevent the thought that flashes across the surface of his mind: Is this going to be me a year from now?

32. Tobias texts Rachel and Jake an article from Audubon.Org, where several birdwatchers are going into ecstasies of scientific fascination at the bald eagle and peregrine falcon seen flying in close formation in a cell-phone video taken near a highway overpass downtown. His only comment is, “Told you so.”

33. In the aftermath, Rachel does a Google search: “PTSD treatment symptoms outcomes.” She reads through the WebMD site, the NIMH page, the Wikipedia link to a DSM-5 entry. She thinks of Tobias’s withdrawn silences, his antipathy toward so much they used to enjoy, but she thinks of other things as well. How exhausted Jake seems any time they’re not on-mission. How badly Cassie flinches when the school bell rings and doors slam. How Ax seems to be gradually losing interest in the things—cooking shows, new condiments, human history trivia, These Messages—that once drew his fascination. How last week Marco flicked an ant off the back of his hand and then went white like he’d just kicked a puppy. How good it had felt when she’d hurt David, spreading the pain around, giving it back.

She catches an Uber to the clinic downtown, filling out forms in the waiting room based on the checklist written on her phone for “how to get tobias an ssri”: Yes, she often feels tense and worried. Yes, her heart often races for no reason. No, she hasn’t thought of ending her life. No, she doesn’t feel out of control when she eats.

She gets as far as developing a cover story—it’s about how she’s never felt the same since her parents’ divorce—but in the hallway to the office she panics and calls Cassie. “Am I doing the right thing?” she asks, after she’s explained.

Cassie is silent for a long time, never a good sign. “I’m not sure an SSRI would work on a bird,” she says at last, “and that’s even if we could figure out a dose that would work without killing him. I know you want to help, and I think you should, but...”

Rachel hears what she’s not saying: but what if her mom asks too many questions? But is this risk really worth it? But what if the psychiatrist (the receptionist, the pharmacist) is a controller? But isn’t it them, and only them, against the world, and isn’t that just how it has to be?

“The war won’t last forever,” Cassie says weakly, and Rachel hates her a little for it. “When it’s over, when we get to tell everyone what’s happening...”

Rachel hangs up. She goes home, morphs, and flies out to the woods.

«You know I love you, right?» she asks Tobias later that evening.

«Of course I do.» He sounds exhausted. She’s never felt more helpless in her life.

34. The Yeerk Peace Movement, as it comes out, has a Twitter feed. It is rather painfully obvious that it has been set up and run entirely by aliens who are doing their very best to communicate with humans, and not quite succeeding. Most of the posts are couplets, for some reason that none of the Animorphs can fathom.

“Want to be On Fleek? When you see someone’s rights threatened, speak!”

“Don’t be a Belieber anymore - end slavery and even the score.”

“#tbt: Remember when we were symbiotes? Give taxxon freedom your sympathy votes!”

“Nickelback is super lame, and keeping involuntary hosts is just the same.”

“Respect your host’s rights today, and make your human into your bae!”

35. It’s Marco who comes up with the idea for how to take down William Roger Tennant. This is a guy, after all, whose cockatiels have their own Instagram account: he runs his fame on the internet.

“It's simple,” Marco explains. “We start a hashtag—#notsonicetennant—and we make it go viral. All we have to do is film this guy everywhere he goes, and eventually the yeerk will slip up.”

It proves not to be simple after all. Their gif of Tennant twitching madly mid-EPA speech gets overshadowed by the news story about One Direction nearly getting poisoned with spiders at the same banquet. Ax does not understand the concept of hashtag, and keeps adding #notsonicetennant to his retweets of what Marco calls “food porn.” They train one of Tobias’s repurposed GoPros to follow poodle-Marco, but that becomes a meme mocking the world's most obnoxious stray dog rather than Tennant himself.

The plan finally, finally comes off when they pull out all the stops and just confront him in morph. The smartphones that Rachel rigged up in the surrounding buildings don't pick up the thought speak, but the audio of Tennant screaming at the aliens to leave him alone comes through just fine.

When the scandal breaks, the internet (in truly predictable fashion) drops #notsonicetennant and starts using #tennantgate instead.

Ax reposts an old photo of Tennant eating a quinoa salad—zoomed in on the salad—and tags it #tennantgate. All of his teammates assure him they appreciate the attempt.

36. “All right, that’s just weird,” Marco says, looking at the final entry in the underwater creepshow they’ve been walking through for the past hour. “All the other ships have been getting more modern as we’ve gone, but this one? Looks like it was made in the sixties, at the latest.”

«The world’s creepiest museum curators are getting sloppy with the placement of bodies as well,» Tobias points out. «There’s no way that many people could fit on a boat that small. They’re practically falling over the sides.»

Jake and Cassie look at each other, seeing the same realization reflected in each other’s eyes. Neither one of them wants to say it out loud.

Jake becomes the one to bite the bullet. “Don’t you get it?” He points to the ragged clothes, the emaciated bodies, the modern smartphone tucked in among the antiquated radio equipment. “They were refugees.”

37. Rachel shuts the window on the library computer as soon as she hears someone walk into the room, but she can tell she was too late by the look on Jake’s face when she turns around.

“Roy Ludvig, huh?” Jake says. “Heck of a name.”

“He was at the T.V. studio when we attacked.” Rachel looks down, picking at her nail polish. “No civilians were supposed to be in danger.”

Jake’s expression softens, as much as it ever does. “And now you’re scrolling through his Facebook, looking for something that’ll let you sleep at night.”

“He’s got a grandson,” Rachel blurts. “Jordan’s age. He...” She shrugs. He’s dead, and it’s more or less her fault.

“Shouldn’t be looking on Facebook.” Jake sets his phone on the library table next to her, taps the screen to bring up an official-looking report. “You should be, say, borrowing my dad’s computer. Sending an email from his account to ask for the guy’s medical records. If you had, you’d know that Mr. Roy Ludvig had a heart condition. That he had maybe a year to live, at most, and doctors said he might die at any old time.”

Rachel looks down at the report for a long time, and eventually looks up at Jake. “Doesn’t make it okay, what I did,” she says. “He’s still dead.”

Jake shrugs. “You don’t have to forget it ever happened, but you do have to live with it. Live, and fight another day.”

38. In the aftermath of Estrid's visit, Tobias is flying over the boardwalk when he sees a henna artist who clearly smokes way too much pot to be a Yeerk. He gets Ax, they morph human, and both get henna tattoos of Elfangor's name. (Ax had previously expressed an admiration for the human tradition of commemorating a lost loved one by making markings on one's body.) They know the tats will disappear when they demorph, but they're both glad they did it. The artist asks how long they've been together, and Tobias says in a scandalized voice, “he's my UNCLE!” Thus, Tobias succeeds in both of his goals: making Ax laugh, and reminding him he has family here on Earth. Honestly, the reminder doesn't hurt Tobias either.

39. “You know, not all squirrels are like that,” Marco is fond of saying after a morph goes wrong. “Not all termites are horrifying worker drones.” Sometimes it’s, “You know, some of my best friends are fleas.”

It’s Cassie, however, who gets the last laugh out of that one. «You know, Marco,» she says as they swim away from the wreckage of the helicopter, «Not all ants are like that, right? I shouldn’t say that all ants are killers, right?»

Marco stares at her in silence while the others snicker, watching him war between the two impulses: to keep the joke going forever, and to express his honest hatred of ants.

«Come on.» And now Rachel has joined in on the teasing. «You’re just going to let that kind of besmirching of the ant community stand?»

«Okay, okay!» Marco gives in. «Ants suck. Yes, all ants!»

40. “Our experts have examined the video extensively, and near as we can conclude, this footage is genuine and unedited,” the newscaster says. “Given how viral this video has proven to be, with over two million views since it was posted to YouTube on Wednesday, everyone wants to know: is this footage proof that aliens exist? Is this a publicity stunt for the upcoming Fantastic Beasts sequel? Or, as one YouTube commenter asks, did a Smurf just have sex with a centaur?”

«Potential new ally?» Tobias suggests. He’s already tapping out a search for the original video in his modified tablet.

Ax laughs. «Of course not. He’s crippled. A vecol. Useless. We must respect the privacy of his isolation.»

“You know what? Fuck that,” Marco snaps. He shoves to his feet, posture tight with anger. “Just... Fuck that,” he tells Ax. “I have ADHD. Attention Deficit whateverthefuck. I take a pill every morning to help me function because my brain isn’t good enough to filter stimuli all by itself. I got a fucking 135 on the world’s most boring IQ test and I’m still failing half my classes. I’m a vecol. You think I’m useless, huh? You gonna start refusing to talk to me because of some bullshit about ‘respecting’ my ‘privacy’? Huh?”

«That’s different,» Ax says. «You’re not...» He doesn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence.

«If he’s an exception, I hope I am too,» Tobias says more gently. «I got screened for anxiety disorders as a kid, and I guess we’ll never know if I qualify or not, ‘cause my aunt decided that doctors cost money and if the test said I needed one then she didn’t want to know about it.»

Ax doesn’t answer for a long time. He doesn’t seem to know where to look.

«Let’s go tell the others what we found.» Tobias taps a button to send the video to himself. «We can talk more about this later.»

MM4. Tobias flinches when his phone makes the small ping sound that means he has an alert. The new kid is the easy target in every school on the planet. He wonders what it’ll be this time: another Facebook post where the semi-anonymous account Toby IsALoser tags him in another meme about how he has to pay people for sex because the sight of his body would make any normal girl run away screaming, another unnamed Instagram ping telling him he should kill himself so that no one has to look at his stupid fat face anymore, another Snapchat image of a puddle of vomit with the caption “me when I think of you,” an email with the most disgusting gif anyone could find after a quick search...

It’s not, though. It’s an invite to join a private Facebook group, called The Sharing, with several hundred local members. Most of the names Tobias recognizes are cool older kids from the high school. Intrigued, willing to trust for the moment that this isn’t some ridiculously elaborate prank, Tobias clicks “join.”

41. Jake looks around at the enormous open field, concrete pitted with openings and low hovels of corrugated steel and rebar. He can see for nearly half a mile in every direction before the smog makes it impossible, and the tallest things around are the hunched hork-bajir. “Where are we?” he asks.

Cassie frowns. “This? Jake, this is downtown Manhattan.”

He gapes at her. “What happened to it?”

“Tall buildings are targets for drone strikes,” she says casually, turning away. “The only way to be safe was to go underground.”

42. Marco doesn’t bother going to the house of the guy who photographed them, nor does he try to catch the kid before he uploads the video anywhere. Instead he waits for the image to appear on YouTube, then becomes the first commenter. “Sweet manip!” he says. “Is that Photoshop, or can you do that in free programs like Gimp?”

43. “EarthIsOurs-dot-tumblr-dot-com?” Marco says incredulously. “What does Taylor do there, post pictures of her pet taxxon? Reblog plans for planetary domination?”

«Judging from her archive history, she’s had this blog for many years,» Ax says. «She recently changed the domain name, but some of the content on here is from as early as 2008.»

Jake and Marco get caught up in debating with Cassie about what exactly to send to her, but Tobias just scrolls quietly through Taylor’s old posts. She didn’t lie about being beautiful, he realizes, or about being popular. There’s a long blank period in her tumblr account in mid-2014. And then she posted one selfie—just one—after the fire.

He can’t bring himself to read the names that the trolls call her, or the discussions about how much money they’d have to be paid to have sex with her. But there’s no overlooking the suggestions that she kill herself. The posts are too numerous, too vitriolic.

“Every chick ever to wander onto the internet has gotten that crap,” Rachel says; clearly she’s been reading over his shoulder. “She should’ve developed thick skin, not joined the Sharing.”

Tobias thinks of the Facebook page made at his old school just to discuss the fact that he’s a chubby zit-face, of the posts which eventually overwhelmed his Instagram with death threats. «Yeah, I guess,» he says.

44. It takes a long time for Cassie to get home from Australia, but at least they’re not too worried for most of that time; she texts them her location and a brief description of the insanity that landed her in the Outback as soon as she gets in contact with Yami’s family.

45. “None of this makes any sense,” Peter says. “I’m hallucinating, or you’re delusional, or else—”

Marco sets his phone in Peter’s lap. “Check the timestamp, Dad. I took that six months ago.”

Peter stares at the phone for a long minute, and then slowly looks up at Marco. At a clear loss for words, he tilts his head back toward the screen.

“I know.” Marco laughs, the sound wet with tears. “That blond wig looks terrible on her. But it’s really her, Dad. I swear.”

46. “So they’re going to get the U.S. embroiled in another war,” Marco says. “And this one with a country that can actually fight back.”

«Seems like,» Tobias says. «Only why bother with all the secrecy and political wrangling? Why not just send a couple mean tweets to Donald Trump and Kim Jong-Un? That’d probably do the job just as well.»

“No, it wouldn’t.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, looking around at them all. “The yeerks need a total war. Everything the U.S. and its allies can pull out, against everything China and its allies can muster. Our military has gotten too used to sending drones to fight its wars, to ‘tactical strikes’ against insurgents. If the yeerks want half the species annihilated, they have to do a lot more than poke a couple of egos.”

47. “News flash,” Marco says. “Your average suburbanite ain’t gonna accept a seven-foot-tall alien for a neighbor. You know the number of times my mom’s been asked for proof of citizenship before she was allowed to vote or cash a paycheck or buy a car? How many times she’s been pulled over by cops while driving the speed limit with her seatbelt on? And she’s a regular old human being. Toby’s right—the hork-bajir have a whole other fight coming if we ever win the war.”

48. Rachel feels the blood drain from her face when she opens the Facebook message and sees the name attached. David’s Facebook account has been defunct for almost two years now; there’s no one left who would want or even be able to access it from the outside. Should be no one.

Miss me? the message from David’s account says.

Who are you? she types with shaking fingers. What do you want?

I know what you did. I’m coming for you. I’ve got friends all over the place and they’ll find you. They’ll kill you. Amazing the allies you can get, when you know where the bodies are kept. On the internet, no one knows you’re a—

Rachel hits “block.” She tells herself that the screaming nightmares she has all that night and into the next are the product of having a stressful life, she’s an Animorph for pete’s sake.

She doesn’t stop shuddering every time she gets a message for the next two weeks, but she never hears from whoever (It wasn’t David. It couldn’t have been.) it was ever again.

49. They stagger away from yet another hopeless fight, all of them injured, half of them missing limbs or bleeding to death. Dragging their damaged bodies behind the first dumpster they find, they demorph, remorph, and force their minds to focus long enough for the long flight home. It’s only when Rachel is in owl morph, staring around the dimly lit alleyway, that she sees the security camera pointed directly at their location.

«They must not check it that often,» Marco says without much hope. «Or else they’d be out here already to come looking for us.»

«Doesn’t matter,» Tobias says harshly. «It had a perfectly clear view of all your human faces. And that building is owned by the yeerks.»

They all stare at each other in dull shock as the realization sinks in. They always knew this moment was coming—they could only be so careful for so long—and yet, on some level each of them hoped it never would.

«Take one more night to be with your families,» Jake says at last. «We evacuate everyone in the morning.»

Jake loses his phone, again, somewhere amidst all the chaos. This time around he doesn’t bother to replace it. It’s not like his mom is going to be wondering where he is, not anymore.

50. “So,” Jake says, “this is going to sound crazy, but—”

“Aliens are invading the planet, and you’re the only kid terrorist who can stop them?” James suggests. “We do have wifi up here, you know. You’re Jake Berenson, right? You’re all over the conspiracy theorists’ forums right now.”

“Um.” Jake runs a hand through his hair, starts again. “Yeah, pretty much.”

James nods. “In that case, you’ve got thirty seconds to convince me your story’s not a load of crap before I call security.”

51. Ax secures their wifi in something a billion times better-hidden than Tor. With that reassurance, they all end up starting blogs.

Marco’s is a rambling string of wry comments about everything from the invasion to his parents’ science projects. Sample post: “Insider source (aka my mom): Visser Three has morphed human and eaten AN ENTIRE BAG OF MARSHMALLOWS in one sitting, ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION. Pass it on!”

Jake’s is the place that people go to find out how they can help, and to get his reassurance that the help means something. Sample post: “As Barack Obama says, ‘We the people recognize that we have responsibilities as well as rights; that our destinies are bound together; that a freedom without a commitment to others is unworthy of our founding ideals, and those who died in their defense.’ This fight will never be over just as long as we keep supporting each other. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you all for the KickStarter donations.”

Rachel’s has beauty tips for the American girl on the run, light and self-deprecating enough that you often don’t notice the undercurrent of desperation. Sample post: “If you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror, try fixing your hair using reflective surfaces such as pots, ponds, or pieces of Bug fighter wreckage. Alternately, just say ‘fuck it’ and never look at yourself again.”

Cassie’s tells people how to stay safe, and how to keep their environments safe as well. Sample post: “Everyone please remember, it’s important to stock enough food and water for family pets as well as humans when retreating to an apocalypse bunker!”

Tobias’s has a lot of good-natured grumbling about everyday life in the valley. Sample post: “In other news, my girlfriend’s mom is currently arguing with the smartest being on the face of the planet about where to put the new latrine facilities. Sorry Naomi, but my money’s on Toby.”

Ax’s has a lot of food reviews, of course, but again there’s that undercurrent of desperation, almost like he’s trying to convince someone else (or maybe even himself) that humans are worth saving. Sample post: “Marco assures me that there are no less than 23 distinct flavors contained within every sip of Dr. Pepper. Just think of the years of experimentation and innovation it must have required to produce a drink which can inspire 23 different reactions from human taste buds, all at the same time. Truly inspired genius.”

52. They run drills upon drills for what to do in case of a drone strike. Using any morphs they have that can dig or build—mole, taxxon, elephant, beaver—the Animorphs create an extensive network of tunnels and shelters, posting guards at all times to keep their eyes on the sky. The hork-bajir valley doesn’t show up on satellite imagery, which they only know thanks to Peter’s definitely-illegal fact-gathering missions on the darkweb, but they don’t know for sure whether an overhead camera would be subject to the same strange perceptual distortions they all experience when flying there as birds. They nearly lose their precious secrecy when Naomi sends several emails from her work account, claiming she’s being held hostage and asking anyone who will listen to come rescue her. Eva generates a hasty follow-up from the same account asking people to ignore “the prank that I now realize was in poor taste,” but none of them are sure it worked for the next several days.

53. Rachel makes one last post on her nearly-extinct Instagram account. This time the scrap of paper she uses appears to be torn from the back of a food label, but the penciled script is as intricate as ever. It reads “Who wants to live forever? —Freddie Mercury, 1986”

54. After it’s all over, Tobias retreats, he hides, but he keeps a thread of communication open. Cassie shoots him an email with the subject line “Hawk patient with intermittent aggression and lethargy—any idea what could be causing it?” Marco sends him idiotic memes that now feature the Animorphs’ names and faces. Ax asks for constant updates on the new wing of Taco Bell being built downtown, and repays the favor by leaking confidential information about the search for the Blade ship.

And then he gets one of the stranger emails he’s ever received. It’s an offer of a full legacy scholarship to Harvard University (which has just found the means to explain some inconsistencies in the records of one “Alan Fangor,” who graduated in the ‘80s) in exchange for Tobias teaching one class per semester on any subject of his choice. He agrees, with the stipulation that all his classes be online.

The resultant course (Ornithology 442: An Insider’s Perspective) is like nothing the students who participate have ever seen before. Tobias will write out rambling treatises on Why Blue Jays Suck or All the Ways Hawks Are Superior to Eagles with a thought-speak-to-text recorder. He’ll deliver online lectures from a shaky webcam pointed into a nonspecific tree, occasionally wandering off for hours at a time to go hunting. Students who ask him personal questions about Rachel get regurgitated mouse skeletons Fed-Exed to their campus mailboxes. Essays that don’t demonstrate much effort get feedback such as “even I can tell this sucks and I have a seventh-grade education” or “my grandmother could make better sentences than this AND SHE’S AN ANDALITE WHO DOESN’T SPEAK ENGLISH.” Assignments include “find one bird fact in a textbook and explain why it’s a load of crap” or “go film a Boston pigeon until it does something interesting, I dare you.”

Nevertheless, enrollment is so popular that Harvard has a three-year waiting list and charges students an extra $500 just to sign up. When Tobias finds out about the extra fee, he promptly video-calls the Intrepid, gives Ax remote access to his computer, and explains why he needs Ax to convert the course illegally to a MOOC. Harvard University fires him for breach of contract; Yale hires him on that very same afternoon.

part 1 here

#animorphs #modern au #long post #ableism #mental health stigma #food #racism #cyberbullying #fatphobia #ptsd

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