𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝑒

Also Bruce and Hulk are really gay for Tony and that’s obvious in how Bruce keeps sticking his ass out... Valid.

♞—-» Sebastian’s world changed so rapidly over the course of several years. He fell in love with his partner, had to go through getting a new partner because he wanted to pursue a relationship with his original partner, got married, and had a daughter. All massive life changes, true, but ordinary things, right? Most 30-something year old men settled down and had a family, right? Perhaps not, but it seemed like the normal thing for an average person to go through.

And while balancing family life and a professional life with the KCPD was a stress all on its own, Sebastian was happy. He would have sworn that up and down for years.

At least, he had been until the accident. The fire that killed his daughter and ripped apart his entire life. He developed a drinking problem to cope. His wife became so obsessed with the idea that Lily’s death wasn’t an accident that she simply wouldn’t let the wound settle and heal. Then her obsession turned into a belief that Lily was alive, but she just sounded... insane. Sebastian tried to reason with her, tried to listen to her, but she was just making the healing process so much more difficult.

Myra disappeared. Everyone blamed him, saying he either drove her away with his drinking, or suspecting him of actually doing something to her himself. His world spiraled out of control, he’d hit rock bottom and he somehow managed to push through that hard rock and spiral even lower.

Then Mobius took him and inject him into STEM.

STEM was sort of a blessing disguised as a curse. For all the trauma he suffered within that devil contraption, he found a lot of blessings in it as well. A newfound strength and desire to not only survive but live again. Yes, he’d lost so much of himself in the last few years, but after coming so close to deaths too horrific to put to paper, he realized just how much he wanted to cling to life, how much he still wanted to be alive and thrive... It gave him a new respect for not throwing his life away, made him reevaluate a lot of his self-destructive decisions, and even gave him new purpose.

Perhaps, above all else, though, he found Johnny.

Their story wasn’t exactly the most romantic of stories. Johnny and Sebastian met in one of the worst places imaginable and ended up relying on one another when they had no one else to rely on or turn to. Desperation and spite brought and kept them together inside STEM, but what bloomed outside, in the real world, was beautiful. Not always easy, not by a long shot, especially when Seb still questioned what was real and what wasn’t, and had to come to some pretty terrifying realizations that monsters and demons were real and his boyfriend was one such monster hunting down even worse creatures. The types of things Sebastian would have believed nothing but stories or fantasies were now very real. Things he faced inside of STEM, nightmares that couldn’t possibly exist outside of someone’s head, were very much real.

But Sebastian processed this new information, and with Johnny’s help, he learned to cope and accept what could not be changed and adapt to survive in this new world that was still the same as it always was.

Turning, though...

Fuck, that’d been the hardest thing of all, hadn’t it? Learning of the existence of the supernatural was one thing, accepting it and living with it and even joining his boyfriend on hunts was another thing, but actually becoming part of it? In a way that he had no actual control over? In a way that tore out his humanity and left him with a memory of who and what he had been, but changed him into something so different... He’d never expected that to happen, never expected it to be possible, and sometimes, when looking in the mirror, it was hard to believe. As long as he was well-fed, he looked more or less the same, able to blend in with those around him just as he always had. Even his own mother couldn’t really tell the difference, though she did expect something was off about him.

Staying well-fed, though, was the tricky part. He could eat as much food as he wanted and never feel full. No sustenance or nutrition came from it. Eating souls took some getting used to and Sebastian had some really difficult times convincing himself to do so. There was a certain air of injustice or immorality that made such an act feel impossible, even when he purposefully went out of his way to find the worst people he really could, people he was probably doing a service to the rest of humanity for taking them out of the realm of existence.

Johnny spent a lot of time coaxing Sebastian into doing what he needed to in order to survive and not wither away under the influence of this transformation and Sebastian still didn’t like it, but at least he wasn’t starving himself.

With his insatiable hunger for the unimaginable, though, Sebastian did develop quite a few abilities that he couldn’t really control, didn’t entirely understand, and allowed him to do some pretty extraordinary things. While fearful of his newfound powers, he also found himself eager to learn and develop them. Look at all of the good he could do with what most would view as a curse! That’s how Sebastian had to look at it, anyway, to keep himself sane. Weaker men than him would have gone mad with power or crazy with the monstrosity they became.

The worst of it, though, was watching just how guilty Johnny was over Seb’s transformation. He blamed himself, it was very obvious. Every time Seb showed signs of struggling with adapting to this new life, Johnny’s guilt only amplified, and none of Sebastian’s reassurances seemed to have much impact on the Rider. Johnny knew he shouldn’t have pulled Sebastian into the lifestyle that he lived, that it was too dangerous for a common human, even one as determined, stubborn, and skilled as Sebastian.

Nothing Sebastian could say would ever alleviate Johnny’s guilt completely, but that just made Sebastian more determined to adjust to his new self, so he didn’t have to struggle in front of his fiancé anymore.

One such developing ability, however, left Sebastian feeling particularly unsettled. He first noticed it with Johnny and his mother, this... inherent ability to feel them even when they were not around him. It was like a personal tracker of sorts, allowing him to sense their general location, if they were in danger, and even, to a certain extent, what they were feeling at the time. It seemed to be the strongest with Johnny, which made sense since they lived together and spent the most time with one another, but as the weeks turned to months, more and more people started popping up on his radar.

Even people like Abraham, for the love of whatever higher power actually existed... Not that he’d tell Johnny about that, he was already salty for how often Abraham tried to steal Sebastian away and spend “quality time” with him.

Someone he never expected to feel eventually found her way to him, though. At first, he thought that it might have been Myra. Wherever she was, she was trapped, confused, and afraid. Sebastian couldn’t make out many details, in truth. Everything around her was dark, foggy, and as if she wasn’t entirely aware of her own surroundings. Why would he be thinking about Myra, though? There was no reason for Myra to hold any real place in his heart anymore, not after all the turmoil she’d put him through, not after finding a better partner in Johnny.

Then it dawned on him. Well, more like infected his dreams, really. Sitting bolt upright, Sebastian had broken out into a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Gwen moved from the end of the bed to crawl up into his lap and greet him, a tiny, concerned ‘mew’ leaving her as one paw came up to bat at his bare, damp chest.

Lily...

He dreamt about Lily, holed up somewhere dark, where she couldn’t see anything. Fuck, it felt like she wasn’t even processing what was going on around her at all, but she’d been right there, in front of him. He reached out for her, only to be stopped by some sort of invisible forcefield that existed between them, something that kept him from being able to touch her, to wrap his arms around her, and hug her like a father who never thought he’d see his baby again ought to.

Normally, he would have just written that off as a bad dream. He had plenty of them after losing Lily, after Myra abandoned him, and especially after STEM, but the feeling lingered, and for a moment, he swore he could picture her in real time, not just as a memory, but as someone who was alive and breathing and lost.

Nudging Gwen off of him, Sebastian pushed himself out of bed, as quietly as possible so as not to rustle the man beside him, though Johnny was likely already coming too from Seb violently sitting upright. Still, he made his way into the bathroom attached to their bedroom and closed the door behind him. Standing in the dark, he splashed a bit of cold water from the sink onto his face and gently patted a damp cloth across his neck and shoulders in an attempt to ground himself.

Could it be true, though? Could Lily be alive?

“That’s crazy,” Seb murmured to himself, staring at himself in the mirror. The lights were off, but his eyes easily adjusted to the dark, so he could see perfectly well. Making out every single detail of himself proved a simple task and he looked... Well, not nearly as tired as he should have been considering he hadn’t slept for very long and was woken in such a violent fashion.

After a few minutes to calm down and process what he’d been dealing with, Seb finally came back into the bedroom. Johnny was awake, sitting upright in his bed, a worried expression painting his features.

“Something odd’s happened,” Sebastian admitted before Johnny could even ask. “I can’t explain it, but I think...” Okay, he could explain it. Even though he had a hard time understanding these new and developing skills, he could talk to Johnny or Abraham or someone of a like mind who understood what it meant to be something other than human and they would likely understand what he meant, what he was talking about, what he was experiencing, and how to figure it out. “I think Lily might be alive, Johnny,” he murmured, and even as the words left him, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The Gist--

Because of what’s going on in the world and personal issues, I’m slow and I’m having a hard time keeping track of time at the moment.

I’m working on coming back because I do want to get back into my craft, but it’s going to be a process and I will still be slow.

I’m easier to get ahold of on Discord. If you’d like to add me there, feel free to shoot me a message here! I’ll give you my discord.

I’m still very much in the plotting headspace, so if you’d like to plot, I’d love to! It’d really help me get back into things. Please just read my rules ahead of time.

I am also going to try to get back onto my Loki-and-family blog as well, so you can also find me at @storiesofwildfire​

More Info--

So, as most of you can tell, I haven’t been around much. I’ve made a couple of posts earlier in the year about losing both of my cats. On top of COVID and everything else that’s going on in the world, I’ve been stuck in quarantine and self-isolation for months and life has been? Difficult. I’m okay. I’m healthy, I’m safe, and I’m doing what I can for my mental health.

Right now, I’m just having a very hard time sitting down and focusing on anything that forces me to concentrate and be alone in the quiet. For that reason, I’ve taken to a lot of other, more social things, like online gaming and binge-watching stuff with my roommates. I need the noise to keep me distracted and get me through the day and, unfortunately, that does impact my writing. I’m also having a really difficult time keeping track of time. It feels like I blink and another week has gone by. All the days are blurring together, which has me not realizing just how much time has passed since I’ve been active or since I’ve replied to messages. My sleep schedule is also more broken than ever, so I’m sleeping at odder hours than usual.

For these reasons, I am going to keep my semi-hiatus status up. I am so full of muse and I want to get back to writing, but I am going to acknowledge that I will be slow. I’m not gonna be on every day. There may even be times where I disappear for a week or more again, but I’m going to do what I can to slowly get back into what I love doing. I just need to find a healthy balance because taking care of myself and my mental health has become so incredibly important. More important, honestly.

STARTER FOR @grimoireweavers​ | CAYDE & ULDREN

< I would like to remind you before we continue that I told you this was a bad idea. >

Ah good old Sundance, always worrying, always doin’ it anyway. Cayde can almost see her little puffed up light show alongside the lecture but if she really wanted to stop him she’d just say it. Instead the Ghost is all pouts and show tucked in the back of his head like a hidden card. 

She kinda is, in a way. She’s his lucky charm, keeps him alive, keeps him goin’ which is definitely appreciated since the crate he’s lugging about is starting to kill his back. It was worth it, it would all be so worth it and she’d see it too when they got there.

They were almost there right? Damn it, quick scan of the area, yeah - yeah they’re almost there. Just have to get past the gate and three roots without attracting Vex or Guardian eyes and he’s scott free. Hah! And Ikora said he’d die first day. He’s Cayde-7 now, maybe Cayde-6 would have but if he knows himself, he’s better than that. Look at him now, it’s day six and he’s still kickin’. 

< That would be thanks to me. You’re welcome. >

Cayde can feel his mouth light up in a snickers when she huffs again. Shifting against the pillar he’s tucked around before makin’ his move. It wasn’t the easiest place to get too, definitely more out of the way than where they first met but he approved. Hunter’s hide, hunters track, hunters shouldn’t have to be sleepin’ in container crates on fuckin’ Nessus afraid of other guardians. 

< About that. Remind me again how you met? >

Right, story time! The crate rattles a little as he drops from the ledge and hefts it over his shoulder, blue flickering to follow a small patrol before he takes off, sprinting the open area, cloak keepin’ him covered from the harsh lights hiding way too many creeps in the tree.

“So there I was, Guardians on one side, Fallen on the other. Ghostless, gun cocked, a lone ranger in the wind, beautifully lit by the full moon.” 

< Less theatrics more points. >

Sundance loved his theatrics and when he makes a shh sound she whirrs and settles, letting him carry on, scootin’ his ass a little to close to a Vex mind for comfort before slipping into the crack in the wall. 

< So you made a daring escape and won right? Tell me you didn’t get shot. >

Called it.

“Yep. Bam, bam, bam I took down ten - no - fifteen of them, escaped one really handsy titan Zav sent to drag me back to hell and in a daring leap of faith threw myself from the top of Spiders hideout, past his guards. I had to hide, lay low, play it cool. Before I could uh, continue my victory spree I mean.”

Where was the jump again? Right. He’s got his gun, got his crate, almost there. Nessus is still as creepy as he remembers. Or, past Cayde remembers. Though nothing mentioned how far the Vex had spread, they’re even at the beaches, fighting rebelling Cabal… did Ikora know that?  

< Cayde! So then what happened? Did he save you? Oh my Light did you shoot him? You would totally shoot someone by accident! I should’ve never let you out. >

“Yee of little faith! Kinda. Damn this is a steep hill, fuck - okay so I duck into his crate right? Just as a captain spots me. He’s got me in sights, all those adorable fluffy little paws pointed at me. I’m thinkin’ this is it, Sundance was totally right, no one tell Ikora.” 

< I told you I was - >

“And then! BOOM, pow! Out of nowhere, two gun shots across my shoulder, hands on my hips. I was dragged right in, snatched from the jaws of a very epic and beautifully tragic defeat. Ah ‘dance, you shoulda been there, it was perfect. He was… wow.” 

< You’re going to drop the box. >

He didn’t drop the box. But! Cayde pauses for a moment to look around, gathering bearings as he let’s sundance swallow the true theatric pause in his story. Let her simmer, she takes it better. He’s almost at the right part, looking for where the sun hits metal, the faintest glint… 

This container is a little bigger than the last, some old shipment of Vex parts converted into a hideout, covered in moss and whatever nasty Nessus business was crawlin’ all up on there. From the outside it’s just trash, nothing notable. Little does the outside world know his best treasure is tucked away inside.

He’s going to love this. 

< So some random guardian who doesn’t live in the tower saved you from a fallen because you were dumb enough to leave base without me, annoying both Ikora and Zavala and instead of realising you should stay and heal you’re taking me to meet him? >

Pretty much. 

< Good! I need someone with hands to hit you for me. >

Well that’s rude. But she doesn’t mean it, his girls all talk and all lovin’. His chest warm when she sighs but burrows deeper. He’s right there now, Uldren so close he can touch that pretty face the only snag is how to get the loot up there without knocking the entire crate down. 

Shit. 

“Honey I’m home!” 

< He’s going to shoot you and I’m going to let him. >

“Uldren? Pork? Hello ~ You know you’re really workin’ the stereotypes being high up there open up!”

< I’m starting to think you imagined this majestic purple man with the sparkle ghost who saved your dumbass from death. >

He really does have a snarky come back that would obliterate such a clearly false claim but just as Cayde opens his mouth the container makes a subtle shift, a faint grind that sounds like Pork encouraging the door open. He can’t hear too well out here, it turns out thse containers are weirdly sound proof! But he reaches up anyway to check the connector behind his ear, nothing out of place this time. This time they looked good! 

< Speak for yourself I’m still half shot. >

“You always look good baby girl, oi! I brought snaaaacks!” 

That does it. Cayde can only flicker a delighted orange light before snagging the sides of the box and throwing it up onto the small door opening, a heady wince leaving him when the container thuds loudly and sways. Crap, no one noticed? His fingers skirt the ace at his hip, going still as he waits for the bush to answer but no one comes and it’s a blessed thing that he makes the best out of by following before the food can be accepted and not him. Hopping the ledge with a small peace sign just to assuage any idea’s on following Sundance’s trigger finger. 

Settling on one knee by the box Cayde peers into the dim lit room, head tilted as he tries to figure out where that crafty beautiful son’va bitch even hides himself. He’s small, maybe there’s a secret shelf. That would be… awesome, he won’t lie. 

“Uldren?” 

✷—- Becoming a Guardian seemed like it was the worst possible thing for Uldren. When he first woke up in the Dreaming City, laying atop a cold slab with little more than a decorative sheet over his body, he woke in a fit of confusion, fear, and anger, though the anger seemed to fizzle quickly in favor of the actual horror that gripped at his heart. In truth, he didn’t really understand why he felt so uncomfortable, so unable to breathe, so...

So desperate to get up, run, and get as far away from the Dreaming City as he possibly could.

If it weren’t for his sweet little Ghost, a sparkling purple-shelled ball of light that was so absolutely ecstatic to finally have his own Guardian, Uldren probably wouldn’t have had any sort of grounding in order to relax and clear his mind long enough to actually get himself up and moving. Pulled Pork—a name Uldren questioned as soon as he was calm enough to do so, because what kind of name was Pulled Pork?

Most Guardians got to name their own Ghosts, but Uldren didn’t get that chance because another Guardian stumbled into Pulled Pork’s life while he was searching for his Guardian and offered him the name. Apparently, Pork was widely known by many Guardians and their Ghosts. Pork was one of the last Ghosts to find their Guardian. He’d been looking longer than most with mediocre results until Uldren came along.

Uldren still took to calling his Ghost Porkchop or just Pork, something that the little Ghost seemed to adore. His Guardian giving him a nickname, giving him any sort of love at all...

It made Uldren’s heart hurt. While he could not remember much about his life before being revived. Well, in truth, he couldn’t remember anything aside from the intense emotions he experienced in his lifetime. Those sorts of things didn’t seem to go away, but what caused them? He didn’t know.

The months to come were difficult, though. Pork told him all about the Guardians and the Tower that watched over the Last City on Earth, but Uldren’s one and only attempt to make it to the city had been met with hostile Guardians who took one look at him and attacked on sight. It was as if they knew him, recognized him, and always held a vendetta against them for something he didn’t do or couldn’t remember. Punished for the sins of another and the worst part was? He could never even get close enough to a civil conversation to attempt to reason with the angered Guardians.

The only time he wasn’t attacked on spot was when he had his helmet on and securely kept it on. Even then, he didn’t linger around long enough to try to mingle or make friends. After all, a few of the more volatile Guardians actually had succeeded in killing him on more than one occasion. It was usually quick and violent and in a vibrant display of arc lightening, void light, or burning, blistering flames. He rarely even got the decency of a gun, probably because shooting Uldren directly proved to be a difficult feat in and of itself, but when he felt the rage of Guardian wrath, it felt personal.

They hated him, and he didn’t know why.

It led to a lot of cold nights holed up in crooks, crannies, and caves. He took to high perches whenever he could, staying out of sight from enemies that might be patrolling nearby, Guardian or otherwise.

Pulled Pork attempted to sway him towards the city a few times, but with each new Guardian they faced, Uldren only grew more and more resistant to the idea of trying to fit in with them. They would never accept him, and if he slipped up, even once, they might do something drastic enough to attack Pulled Pork before finishing Uldren off so he couldn’t come back. Guardians seemed to love Pork on his own, but did their love for the sweet little Ghost mean enough in the face of their hatred for Uldren?

He didn’t know and he couldn’t risk it. Pulled Pork was all he had now.

At least until he met one Guardian who didn’t approach him with animosity in their eyes and a gun cocked and aimed at him. Cayde-7, an Exo, and a very flashy one at that. He certainly wasn’t the kind of Hunter to take any backseats or sit on the sidelines. He wanted all eyes on him and as Uldren noted upon their first meeting, that sort of got him into a lot of trouble. He’d taken on a hoard of Fallen alone and had nearly been gunned down by their Captain in the process.

“We’re not just going to leave him there, are we?” Pork asked, and even the little light in his shell dimmed a bit because if anyone had reason to ignore the pain and suffering of other Guardians, it was Uldren. If Uldren said no, Pork wouldn’t have blamed him in the slightest, but he would be disappointed if all the ill will that had been passed onto him tainted his heart. Whenever someone would show sympathy for Pork’s position of still not having a Guardian, he’s just spin around in a fluttering motion and say it was all right that his Guardian was taking his time, because when he finally got them, they were going to be the best Guardian to ever die and live again.

He believed Uldren would be, if given half a chance, but no one wanted to offer him that...

But Pork’s question fell on deaf ears because Uldren had already moved out of his hiding spot in the overhead tree, a perch from which he observed but was rarely seen by wayward Guardians or passing patrols of Fallen alike.

Landing behind the cornered Exo, it took a little bit of fancy footwork to leap up long enough to get two good shots right over the Exo’s shoulder, both hitting their mark right between the Captain’s eyes. The first shot took down the shield that every Captain has, the second put a swift end to him. The rest of his gear might had been shoddy at best, but at least he managed to scrap together some decent weaponry. That, at the very least, helped keep him alive.

He wasted little time grabbing Cayde by the hips and tugging him backwards, down into a little bunker that appeared to be vacant so they could at least get some cover.

Uldren hadn’t been wearing his helmet, didn’t have time to divert to grab it either, so he fully expected the stranger to round on him and open fire the moment he worked out who it was that saved him. That would have just been adding insult to injury, wouldn’t it? Being saved by the one Guardian that the rest seemed to collectively agree didn’t deserve to be one.

Cayde... hadn’t had that response. Cayde’s response was so violently opposite of what Uldren expected, the new Hunter was a little baffled. Pork joked that he thought Cayde might have fallen in love with Uldren right then and there, a claim that Uldren quickly denounced and insisted was absolutely foolish. He must have been stunned from the near-death experience.

“Uldren, Guardians don’t experience those sorts of things. Death is only temporary for them,” Pork insisted during their later discussions once Cayde had finally left to go home—to go to the Tower.

“I’m afraid every time I die.”

“You’re still new.” Pork hovered over to press himself against Uldren’s chest. It was the closest thing to a hug the little Ghost could manage. Uldren sighed and wrapped his arms around the tiny ball of light. Really, he wrapped his whole body around Pork, as if he could shield his beautiful little Ghost from the harsh realities of the world. “There will come a time when death does not scare you and a time when other Guardians are not the cause of it. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Uldren murmured, swallowing down the anger and the despair that bubbled up. Cayde’s reaction to him had given him hope and he was... surprisingly angry about that. He didn’t want to believe things could get better if and when they couldn’t. One Guardian didn’t change anything. “They all hate me. Cayde doesn’t change that.”

Even saying his name felt off. Something about Cayde’s presence brought up a lot of inner turmoil for Uldren. For some reason he wouldn’t explain, he wanted to be around Cayde, because it brought him a great deal of comfort, as if he could ground himself by holding onto the Exo, but there was also an underlying feeling of horror and... what was that, exactly? Guilt? That clung to his chest when looking at the man.

Whatever it was, he felt some sort of connection to Cayde.

But Cayde did leave, in the end, and it was probably for the best. At least he hadn’t shot Uldren on his way out. He even promised he’d be back to see him again, though that seemed like a far stretch.

“I like him,” Pork murmured.

“No, you don’t,” Uldren warned. “We can’t trust him. He might be going back to bring even more Guardians with him right now.”

The offended turn-and-look that Pulled Pork fixed Uldren with spoke volumes. “Then we should be moving again, yeah? He knows where we’re hiding out. We shouldn’t be here when we get back.”

He was right, of course, if they actually believed Cayde to be a threat, but even in voicing such, Uldren hesitated. “No. No... we just got settled. I don’t want to uproot again so quickly.”

A small twinge of hope that they would run into one another again and it would actually be a happy encounter. A silly whim, Uldren knew, and a dangerous one at that, but a decision that he surprisingly didn’t lose much sleep over. Deep down, he believed Cayde wouldn’t hurt him or betray his trust. Why? He wasn’t quite sure, but he believed it anyway.

Days passed. Maybe weeks? Truthfully, it was difficult to keep track of time these days. Uldren found himself losing track of days so easily when he was all alone with Pork and basically lived the life of fighting to survive. Cayde hadn’t returned. Uldren found himself looking down into the overgrowth of Nessus from his precariously placed containment unit.

Something Pork loved to tease him about. “Waiting for you boyfriend?” he’d say, only to be quickly swatted away by a particularly annoyed Guardian.

“Uldren!” Pork whizzed over towards the sleeping Guardian. Deep within the makeshift home, Uldren created a little canopy that he could climb up into, burrow beneath a few blankets he managed to fashion in addition to the sheet he’d woken up in and disappear completely. It was the only way to safely rest, knowing if someone did come poking in the container, they’d likely never find him. “Uldren, hey, wake up.”

A low grumble came from the pile of shoddy blankets. “Has something found us?”

“Yes!” Pork didn’t sound particularly frightened, though, more excited, but in his half-conscious state, Uldren sat bolt upright, already reaching for the handcanon beside his pillow. “I mean... no! No, we’re not in danger, but that handsome cowboy came back.”

“Huh?” Uldren was not awake enough to even begin to understand what Pork was talking about. “Porkchop, if we’re not in danger, then let me sleep. I need to be at least somewhat coherent to keep us safe, which means some semblance of proper rest.”

“No, no, no! Cayde-7! Come look!” Pork bumped Uldren lightly on the shoulder as he floated back towards the door.

“I told you not to go out without me! What if someone saw you?” Pork was very used to Guardians taking kindly to him. He didn’t believe anyone would actually hurt him, and maybe they wouldn’t, but their hatred for Uldren might outway their love for Pork. If killing Pork was the only way to ensure Uldren’s newfound immortality was lost forever, then what was he meant to do? All he could do was protect his little Ghost because Pork was the only thing keeping him alive at this point.

“No one saw me! We’re way too far up, you worry wart, now come on! I hope you’re wearing pants!”

Uldren stumbled rather graceless out of his perch. “Why wouldn’t I be wearing pants?”

“Some people don’t like sleeping with their pants on.” If Pork could shrug, he absolutely would.

Uldren made his way to the entrance of the shipping container, which was still cracked open thanks to Pork’s meddling. Fingers pushed through inky lock to smooth down his mild bedhead as he roamed over to eye over the edge of the little ledge that extended from the entrance to the makeshift nest.

And indeed, there was Cayde-7, bouncing around from cliffside to tree, to rickety platform that Uldren strategically placed to look like fallen debris but would help him actually get up to his little shipping container with no more than three jumps per leap. Cayde had a massive crate over his shoulder, though, and Uldren watched as he attempted to leap from place to place as gracefully as possible without the weight of the crate tipping him over the ledge or dropping the poor box entirely.

“Wow... he’s... he’s an idiot,” Pork murmured, trying his best not to sound as harsh and that claim sounded. He did snicker a little, though. “An idiot who really wants to impress you.”

“Why would he want to impress me?”

“Because you’re pretty, Uldren, and you saved his life the last time you met? It’s cute. Look at him go. Oh no! I think he’s going to fall.”

Uldren snickered, watching as Cayde teetered forward and nearly lost control of the massive crate, but there was something soft in his intensely glowing eyes as he watched Cayde so desperately try to get up to the container. A warmth blossomed into his chest, that even moved up to his cheeks, deepening them to a lovely violet shade as the warmth developed into a little flush. “What do you think he’s lugging around in that crate anyway?” Uldren asked.

Pork paused when he caught sight of Uldren blushing. Blushing! Of all things! “Something for you, I’d bet.” That made the blush go just a little darker, but Uldren didn’t get to say anything because the massive package Cayde was hauling suddenly landed on the platform in front of the makeshift home, rattling the entire container as it thudded down with all its might. For a second, Uldren thought the entire thing might fall out of its perch, but thankfully, that didn’t happen.

“He’s coming! Quick, quick, don’t let him know we were watching!” Pork whispered, but in a hushed and hurried tone. Uldren slipped back into the nest and scrambled up to his little perch so he could pretend to be asleep. He barely settled beneath the white sheet he’d kept with him since his revival when he heard his name roll off the Exo’s lips—tongue? They didn’t have lips, did they? Which was strange considering they had mouths. He hadn’t heard Cayde’s earlier calls, in truth. He’d been so far down and the containers were oddly soundproofed enough that he couldn’t make heads or tails of what Cayde might have been saying.

“Cayde?” Pork asked, peaking over the edge of the little sleeping canopy. “You actually came back?”

< ‘You’re laying it on a little thick, Pork,’ > Uldren thought. His Ghost could hear his thoughts... right? Truthfully, he’s still a little unclear about that.

“Uldren!” Pork nudged his shoulder, forcing his entire shell into the back of his shoulder. “Uldren, wake up! We have company!”

< ‘Real thick there, Porkchop...’ > he thought. Apparently, his ghost was not a master of subtly, and embarrassing him in front of this absolutely ridiculous Mess of a Guardian was on the agenda for today.

Oh he knew he’d get the man. There was a pun or turn of phrase for everyone; a truth he held deep in his heart. And despite initial protests - which, to be fair, he’d witnessed the other’s humor stylings for a few weeks now and knew just where they differed - the laugh he got felt all the more precious for the effort that went into it.

And there had been some effort; something he wasn’t about to admit. A long while spent searching for inspiration and, when something hit, another wikipedia article - that turned into eight - to ensure the accuracy would ring true. For while he normally thrived under the assumption he was dumber than he looked (which was, he knew, already fairly down there on the scale), there was an odd sort of pride that came this time around. A sense of wanting, just perhaps, to be seen as something a little more than just the ringer they sent in on jobs that required a set of eyes without the brain to go with.

That was, after all, he was realizing fast, Tony Stark’s thing. Inspiring those around him to be better, to do better, to see in themselves their own capacity to make their own future - and other’s - brighter.  It’s infectious. Annoyingly so. (Particularly when he knows it’s a philosophy at odds with the practicalities of his own life.) And it’s why hours of research have led to this three minute pay off. In the moment? He’s not sorry.

His eyes glittered as he smirked over the rim of his coffee mug. “Don’t you worry, Short Circuit, by the time I’m done here you’ll be tellin’ me to quit my day job and go for broke at the Comedy Cellar.” He’d pretend the other was shaking his head in semi-annoyance. They both knew better. And next time? He’d get a full laugh.

The wink has him raising a brow. “Careful there, you keep fallin’ for my amazing puns like that you’ll be leavin’ the night sky real empty there.” A smug smirk and he moved then to go refill his mug.

⁕—-» It took all of his energy not to roll his eyes so far back into his head, he’d be doing a solid impersonation of Pazuzu in The Exorcist. It was a natural reaction to bad humor, especially when it came to dad jokes and horrible puns. Maybe it was his issues with his own father that made him never appreciate the art of good Dad Joke Telling, but somehow... Barney made it almost charming. Almost.

He was clearly pleased with himself for getting a laugh and a positive reaction out of Tony for once, though. It wasn’t exactly difficult to get Tony to smile, to get a happy, laughing, seems-to-enjoy-himself-too-much Tony, but it was a lot harder to get anything that even resembled genuine out of him. In fairness, most people didn’t actually know the difference between the front and face Tony put on for the public, and what was real. He spent his whole life developing a severe distinction because only those who earned a place to get close to him ever got to see anything close to real. 

Too many people who were meant to love him ended up hurting him in the end, so of course he didn’t let his walls down easily.

But he found that he enjoyed his time with Barney. There was something oddly familiar about him and the more time they spent together, the easier it was for Tony to drop his guard and laugh at absolutely horrible science jokes.

rey & obi-wan ;; @soresuandsnark​

Rey’s awestruck expression made him smile. He should have thought about this- of course she wouldn’t have seen so much greenery before. This must be incredible for her.

ObiWan paused at her query, flicking his wingtips thoughtfully. “That… is a very good question, Rey,” he said. “That depends. I don’t really know what happened here after the Battle of Endor.” 

Truth be told, he’d been a bit distant from the mortal plane for a time after the Death Star’s destruction. He’d withdrawn some, his primary duty with Luke completed and- well, in all honesty, he’d been happy to welcome Anakin back to the Light. He’d missed his brother dearly. And then it had been occasional visits to Luke, until the Force drew him to Jakku and he’d spent the majority of time watching over his daughter and trying not to drift away into the ether. But he could make a few educated guesses.

“It depends on how much activity there was after the battle,” he said. “Imperial and Rebel forces would have been interested in combing the wreckage and making off with anything that might provide valuable information, and Imperial sympathizers may have wanted souvenirs, trying to make martyrs out of Palpatine and Vader. Imperial Intelligence probably wanted some for their propaganda efforts. But- the Death Star was the size of a small moon. It seems unlikely they could have hauled everything away.” He smiled wryly at his daughter. “I admit I don’t know how much that would go for, you’re more of an expert in salvage efforts than I am. If you think we can make off with enough to keep us in funds, then we should make the attempt.”

Another flick of his wingtips. He’d thought to acquire the necessary funds through other avenues, but if they could make enough money selling scrap to keep them operating, then he certainly wasn’t going to protest the notion. “Alright. We look for the kyber crystals first. Then you identify what’s best for us to take.” They weren’t on a tight time schedule, after all. They could probably make off with a fair bit. Rey’d done enough salvaging from Imperial wreckage that she would certainly be able to identify what was the most valuable for its weight. “It’ll be nice to have a financial cushion. We will need fuel, parts for the Falcon, funds to get ourselves some ident-chips, basic supplies… new clothes wouldn’t hurt. Nor would real food.” He’d like to get his hands on a couple of blasters. He desperately wanted a lightsaber to hand, but they did draw attention. Blasters would be less conspicuous.

And tea. Force, he wanted to lay in a supply of decent tea.

Should he get armor? He was accustomed to wearing it at need, and they were going into a potentially dangerous situation. If he were alone, he’d get himself some armor and pass himself off as a bounty hunter. Mandalorian, maybe, he still knew the language, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d pulled a stunt like that. People didn’t harass Mandalorians. 

He could almost hear Cody again, muttering about jetiise and their refusal to wear sensible gear into combat.

Hmm. Something to consider.

And if they were going to make some salvaging trips, maybe he’d get that chance to stretch his wings after all. 

He half-closed his eyes, reaching out with his senses to try and see if he could find any signs of the kyber crystals they sought. The Force lay heavy and dark over this entire moon, feeling cold and slippery and more than a little fetid. But there was a sense, a little bright spark that beckoned to him. He smiled and rested a hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Open yourself to the Force,” he murmured. “Like we practiced. You feel that little spark, about a kilometer northeast from here?”

Was it his imagination, or did he feel something else, something dark, shifting out there?

✧—- She all but beamed at her father. Of course, she knew that at least looking at what salvage might be lying about was a good idea. She’d managed to keep herself alive for most of her life by salvaging, after all, but the praise from a parent and even the agreement to go along with her plan...

Sue her, she was absolutely giddy to actually have a parent to pull that sort of reaction from. The last time she had a dynamic where anyone praised her or reassured her or validated her decisions was Asmund, and he’d been gone for such a long time. Rey hadn’t been anything more than a little girl when the First Order took him away. Having that reassurance back... It was everything to her. Even more so than the incredible views of Endor and how breathtaking the non-desert was.

She still found herself a little awestruck while actually taking in their surroundings, though. It was easy to just stand there and get lost in the sight of something she’d never experienced before. Jakku was always more of the same. There were some spots you needed to be mindful of because of sinking sand pits or wreckage that would draw a lot of attention from other scavengers, but otherwise, it was just miles upon miles of desert sand with hardly anything to break it up. This, though?

Force, the massive trees alone were enough to steal her breath away.

She found her fingers itching to reach for something to sketch with. Asmund left her a journal that belonged to her mother. Inside that journal were journal entries ranging from anything that had to do with their life prior to Obi-Wan, to ramblings about magic and how it worked, to random studies on subjects Rey couldn’t even begin to understand. It was also filled with drawings and doodles, though, and Rey always responded most vividly to those. They allowed her to see into her mother’s world, and while she wasn’t nearly the artist that Loki was, she’d picked up the habit herself. She’d never agree, but she’d actually grown quite good, too, and she so badly wanted to plop herself down and just... draw the foliage that stretched out in front of her.

Odd, considering she also wanted to go running through the trees, uncaring if Obi-Wan could keep up with her or not. 

The hand on her shoulder brought her back from her mind racing out into this strange new moon, though, and she looked up at him. Sort of. He wasn’t really... taller than her by more than an inch or two. “Do you really want to trust my abilities to find the crystals?” she asked. “It seems safer if you do it, considering you’re both familiar with what we’re looking for and not so much of a mess that when you hear ‘reach out into the Force,’ you immediately stick your hand out in front of you.” Obi-Wan wasn’t going to let her live that down, but she wasn’t going to let herself live that down either. How did she come from a powerful Force User and a person literally worshipped for their skills in sorcery? 

Despite her self-doubt, she did as her father asked and closed her eyes so she could drop her guard and hopefully open herself up to the Force. The call of the crystals doesn’t immediately make itself clear to her. She’s too overwhelmed by... She doesn’t even know how to describe it, but it makes her sick to her stomach. Rot comes to mind, like something sour and corrupting taking root of such a beautiful place and spreading. On the surface, Endor was beautiful and alluring, but underneath, it was tainted. She supposed that made sense, given what they were searching for. Remains of the Death Star, a massive super weapon designed to destroy literal planets. So much evil lingered here and the shiver that ran up her spine made her question how much she wanted the ability to feel that.

A soft hum broke through all of the mucky haze, though, like a little comforting song that hushed the cries of a small child. She focused on that. Was that the song of the crystals they were looking for? 

          { plotted starter for Seb and Illya ;; @ataash }

♞—-» STEM was...

Fuck, Sebastian didn’t even know how to describe STEM at all. During his time in this impossible world, he’d come across documents, journal entries, and taped recordings that offered some insight on what was going on in this nightmare and why the nightmare even existed in the first place. It helped Sebastian understand that this was some sort of experiment that took its subjects to a different plain of existence, almost like a reality within a reality.

In truth, it sort of reminded him of the movie Inception. A silly thing to compare real life to, but a comparison that he couldn’t really overlook either, because the further he moved through the ever-changing and contorting environments that seemed to make no logical sense, Sebastian very much felt as if he were moving from one dream to another, further and further down until the possibility arouse that he would never be able to come back.

Letting such thoughts grab hold of him in such a way, though, brought about feelings of hopelessness. What was the point in fighting if he didn’t understand what was going on in the first place and had no real way out of the dark at all? It would be much easier to give himself over to the corruption that seemed to infect anyone who dared to brave the false-reality. He’d even watched as the corruption appeared and took root in his best friend and partner, Joseph Oda.

Yes, his relationship with Joseph had been strained as of late. Ever since Lily’s death and Myra’s disappearance after numerous attempts to convince Sebastian that Lily was alive, Sebastian’s reliance on alcohol as a means to cope grew worse and worse. Sebastian wasn’t oblivious to his problems, as many people who spoke about why Myra ran off and disappeared wrote off Sebastian’s worries and suspicions around her disappearance as her having enough of his shit. They often blamed him for chasing her off, since they both dealt with the grief of Lily’s death in their own ways and Sebastian “couldn’t be there for Myra because he was too worried about drowning his own sorrows in a liquor glass.”

The opposite, in fact, was true. Myra kept spouting off insane conspiracy theories over Lily’s death, even going as far as to claim she was still alive. She never provided Sebastian with proof and instead of sounding able-minded, she sounded crazy. Sebastian believed in the only thing they could do. Accept Lily’s death. Grieve. Deal with their loss together. Move forward. They had to accept reality before they could ever even begin to heal and as much as it pained him to say such, it’s what Myra needed to hear. Myra never listened and the further she pushed into her crazy ramblings about Lily still being alive, it drove a wedge between them. How could it not? She wouldn’t listen to him. She was picking at the wound and letting it fester and he could do nothing to stop her.

Myra ran off without him, likely to follow these leads about their daughter that she never actually shared with him, and no one would listen to him. Because it was his fault, his drinking, and his attempts to cope with the most horrific thing that could happen to a parent. Everyone thought so. He suspected that even Joseph thought so, despite how many times he reassured Sebastian that he was on his side.

Joseph worried for his friend, Sebastian knew that.

But Joseph went too far when he actually got their chief involved in Sebastian’s developing drinking problem. Seb never pretended not to have the issue, but it never interfered with work. He didn’t show up to the precinct drunk. He didn’t go on cases and investigations intoxicated. His addiction never stopped him from being efficient and effective, it was only a way to fill the silence of his loneliness when no one else was around to ground him. And Joseph had to go and run his mouth, thinking it would help the detective get better.

How, exactly? That was Sebastian’s question.

The turmoil in their relationship made watching Joseph slowly turn into a monster, reverting first to multiple suicide attempts to keep himself from losing his humanity, to actually turning on him no less horrific, though. Joseph was the one friend Sebastian still had in the world, the one person that would always have his back, and Joseph was just... gone. Boils and protruding veins spread across his flesh and the burning, red hot rage that pulsated in his eyes as he finally turned on Sebastian were not Joseph. Fuck, Seb wasn’t even sure there was anything left of Joseph in there.

And he could feel that same evil bubbling through for him as well... It was inside of him, trying desperately to claw its way out and take control. The longer people stayed inside STEM, the more they became part of STEM, and once they were part of the machine, they would have a roll to fill. Every cog had to spin, and every piece had a part to play. Once you lost yourself, you were nothing more than a cog, nothing more than a tool to keep this plain of reality as real and as authentic as possible.

So, what, again, was the point? Sebastian didn’t know how to navigate this place. The world was always changing. The second he thought he knew where he was going, he would plummet through the ground or be hurled at full force through the sky and land somewhere unrecognizable and foreign. He barely had enough time to navigate that new section before he was tossed somewhere else. A never-ending cycle that always brought about new and dangerous terrains as well as mindless creatures that only registered him as a threat.

The Haunted, as some of the notes he’d found, were the most common. That’s what he assumed happened to Joseph. They seemed to be the most normal form of corruption STEM had over a person who’d been trapped here too long. They were almost zombie-like in the way they moved and rushed people with ravenous hunger, though they didn’t actually appear to have any interest in devouring their victims and their condition didn’t spread by bite ( thank whatever God there might be, honestly ). There were other beings, though, larger, more volatile and hostile. The Keeper, with a safe for a head and the ability to kill itself and respawn from another safe elsewhere, always carrying that awful-smelling sac full of who knew what and a massive meat mallet that could crush the head of a human with one swing. The Sadist, a Haunted that was larger, stronger, and always seemed to be wielding a chainsaw as it’s weapon of choice. The Shiyo, a water monster that Sebastian never really got a good look at because it was always submerged in murky masses, unable to be seen by the naked eye. Laura, Ruvik’s mutated woman with six long, spidery limbs that moved just like a spider would. She was quick and her hands ended in curved talons that could carve flesh from bone.

Ruvik himself, a rather average looking specter who suffered severe burns all over his body. He seemed to linger in the background, pulling the strings, rather than confronting Sebastian himself. He always had an eye on the detective, but he rarely engaged firsthand.

And those were just to name a few of the many opponents Sebastian had to avoid or put down with his small arsenal of collected and modified weaponry. Thank fuck he actually knew how to use most basic firearms. Had a person less skilled than him in survival come into this world, they wouldn’t have lasted long. Which was probably why there were so many Haunted running amuck seemingly everywhere.

He finally found himself in a decrepit city. It looked like Krimson City, the place Sebastian had been born and raised and still lived to this day, but it was difficult to tell with the way the entire city seemed to float over nothing, the ground cracking apart so that anything unfortunate enough to fall into the fissures would cascade into nothingness. Buildings crumbled and sat at odd, unnatural angles, some even leaning so heavily on the building beside them, it was a wonder they didn’t send one another tumbling over like dominos.

Supplies were his top concern. After Joseph’s turning, he’d been completely alone to fend for himself, save for a boy named Leslie that wandered in and out of the picture. Leslie was... not all there. He was almost always accompanied by his doctor, who seemed to act as a carer for him in this world, though why either of them was here, he couldn’t quite discern. He’d run into them both together and separately a few times, and Sebastian had taken Leslie under his wing to protect him twice now, only to have the boy wander off again. Every time Sebastian attempted to follow him, the world would shift, and he would be dumped out into a completely new place. Alone.

Despite his worry, he knew he needed to keep moving, restock, and keep himself alive. He wouldn’t be any good to anyone if he was dead or worse, if he allowed himself to become Haunted. Why he still had the drive to fight and push through when it all seemed to hopeless, he didn’t know. Even if he did make it out of here, what did he have to go back to?

Every time those thoughts crept up, he stubbornly pushed them down and forced himself to take another step. That’s all he could do. Take another step. Step again. And again. Do the next thing, and then the next. It was the only way to navigate and survive a place like STEM, a place that didn’t make sense.

Part of him, a very little part all the way in the back of his mind, had already accepted that he must have snapped, that he’d finally lost it, and that none of this was real. Maybe a really elaborate fever dream? Maybe he was in a coma? Or maybe he’d died and gone to Hell. Sebastian always tried to be the best man that he could be, but he’d sinned enough and hurt enough in his life that if he’d woken up dead in Hell, he wouldn’t even be surprised.

‘Sorry, Mom,’ he kept finding himself thinking.

Finally, he managed to take shelter in a mostly intact office building. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay there long. The Living always had a way of attracting the creatures of STEM, no matter how well they hid, but he’d at least be able to stop, rest for a breather, and hopefully find some supplies that would prove to be useful.

Making his way inside, he rummaged through a few mailboxes and desks in the entryway, finding a couple of spare bullets, a questionable looking syringe filled with a liquid that was so bright, he wondered if it’d glow under blacklight, and a journal entry ripped from its spine. The handwriting was smudged and it was difficult to make out, but it said something about Ruvik working with the doctor that was always with Leslie. Strange...

There was also a missing persons poster hanging on the front bulletin board. He found a lot of those during his time here. Were they the people who had lost themselves in STEM, he wondered?

He made his way up a few more floors, checking drawers, closets, and cabinets as he went for anything that might be useful, though the building showed signs of already being searched. Drawers left open and doors hanging on their hinges suggested that someone had already looted this place. Not exactly surprising, seeing how many people had apparently been here, but Sebastian wondered if this building was not quite as safe as he first expected. Was the person still here? Was it even a person?

Footsteps from above him caught his attention and he quickly lowered himself down into a crouch, slowly moving along the wall for cover as he made his way to the stairwell at the end of the hall. If someone or something else was here, he needed to know, and he needed to put it down before it found him if it turned out to be a threat. He found himself hopeful that might have been Joseph or, for Fuck sake, even Kidman might have been a blessing at this point. Even if the Junior Detective working under him and Joseph had proven to be rather sketchy, she was at least still alive and herself as far as he knew.

Sneaking his way up the stairs, he emerged on the floor above him, and he slowly pulled the revolver hanging in his shoulder holster from its protective pocket. Cocking it, Sebastian moved towards the source of the sound, only to find a rather normal-looking man in one of the cubicle office rooms. Well, normal wasn’t the right word. Tall—far taller than Sebastian—and well built, he definitely wasn’t your average, run of the mill human. If Sebastian’s mind had been allowed to wander, he even would have gone as far as to say handsome. But he looked human, a human not infected with the curses of this terrible place. No signs of turning and no signs of hostility. Yet.

Was he even real? That was an important question in these parts. And if he was, who the Hell was he, and what was he doing here?

Hey all! 

So, with the state of the world, self-isolating and quarantine, and both of my cats passing away, I’ve been having a really hard time focusing on anything serious. My brain has pretty much just hyper focused on gaming and that’s about all I’ve been able to do to keep myself sane.

I do, however, really want to get back to writing both here and on my main blog, @storiesofwildfire. I don’t know that I can be here every single day, but I’m slowly moving back into getting things set up for continuing my ongoing threads and starting new stuff as well. I’ll likely be slow and I’m not going to force myself to be on if I’m not feeling up to it, but I’m making moves to coming back.

That said, I have completely overhauled my theme. With the help of @ataash, I’ve got whole new graphics for everything. Thank you, bb, you’re the best <3

I’m also making a couple of updates to my muse list. First off, I’ve decided to take off Yennefer. As much as I love her, I haven’t done much with her and my muse for her has wavered. If she comes back, I’ll definitely bring her back, but for now, I’m going to set her to the side.

To take Yennefer’s spot, I’ll be adding two new muses. Uldren Sov from Destiny the game and Eric Northman from True Blood. I’m working on the missing biographies now. I have no idea exactly how long it’s gonna take me to finish everything. As I’ve said, my focus is kind of waning in and out, but I’m going to do my best to kick my butt into gear and get back into writing.