#canopus screams

[cherrypikkins]

Here is my contribution for today's prompt for @fe-oc-week Oct 12 - Tragedy.

With more related Kitt lore!

(cw blood, injury, torture, human experimentation, death, body horror)

note: related artwork and lore inspired by Aesop's story of The Woodman and the Serpent

more below the cut!

The Crest of Gwyn This crest was named for the hero who bore it, and the only person known in Fodlan's history to do so. And yet, there are theories on how it may manifest in the absence of a descendant. When Macuil forged Canopus, the Sacred Axe, he enlisted the aid of Saint Cichol and Saint Cethleann to properly attune it to the Crest of Gwyn. As such, one can posit that if an ordinary person was connected to Gwyn by blood or some other fashion, no matter how distant, then they can be made to bear a Crest. All this required was an infusion of blood from Saint Cichol and Saint Cethleann themselves.

None can say for certain how large of a transfusion is required, nor what the side effects may be - only that the recipient is forever changed. As with all blood rituals, there is always a risk that things can go horribly wrong - or horribly right.

Knowing this, Seteth and Flayn proceeded with the ritual under the permission of Archbishop Rhea, deeming that by saving one person's life, there was a chance that they could yet bring back another - and in killing two birds with one stone, put all past wrongs to rights.

Whether Kitt was informed in full beforehand of what this ritual entailed, and the true motivation behind it, is a different story.

The Capricious One - Part III …Condemning their transgressions as an utter betrayal of the Goddess, the Immaculate One flew into a rage. In one fell stroke, she struck down the Capricious One before Sothis could hear their defense and pass judgment.

The moment this blow was inflicted upon the Capricious One, their tail voluntarily separated from their body, and transformed into a snake-like creature that slithered into the grass and fled in terror, bearing a glowing sigil upon its forehead. This was noticed only by The Hammer of Judgment, who said nothing to anyone of what he had witnessed.

As the Capricious One writhed violently from their injuries, the Goddess immediately reprimanded her daughter for her actions, causing Seiros to be greatly, genuinely repentant.

But no matter what her regret, the damage was done. The wrath of the Immaculate One had been so great that the Capricious One was horrifically wounded beyond anyone's ability to mend, and was reduced to a flailing, feral creature that could not even speak - only scream. Their body became a shifting, seething, unrecognizable mass that was more monster than Nabatean or human. Their blood burned black and became toxic to any who touched it. The Nabateans who once looked upon their troublesome kin with disdain and contempt could only do so now in pity and horror.

Unable to watch them suffer any longer, The Hammer of Judgment petitioned the Goddess to show mercy. Sothis was amenable, but refused to grant mercy in a way that allowed the Capricious One to escape punishment. Instead of ending the Capricious One's misery, she sealed them underground so that they may repent for a time in darkness and isolation, and perhaps even heal on their own away from the prying eyes of their kin. It is said that the writhing of the Capricious One stirred the earth and formed the underground cavern systems that now house the infrastructure of Abyss.

As punishment for denying her kin the right to stand trial, the Progenitor God challenged the Immaculate One with the formidable task of restoring the Capricious One to full health and ensuring that true justice would be delivered, no matter how long it took to do so. Hence did the Immaculate One swore before her mother to fulfill this task and make amends.

Since the Capricious One was bereft of speech and was no longer able to defend or justify their actions, it remained unknown whether the Capricious One truly desired for the downfall of their own family, or if they wished only to protect and fight for humanity.

Several years later, the Goddess Sothis was murdered by Nemesis, who went on to massacre the remaining Nabateans at Zanado. In an effort to gain allies and honor the oath made to the late Sothis, Saint Seiros and Saint Cichol ventured underground in search of the Capricious One. They were accompanied by Saint Cethleann, a healer of mythic power, with the hope that she alone would be able to restore the Capricious One to full health. The Capricious One would be given a chance at redemption and serve in the war to be waged against Nemesis and his Elites. Thus would the Immaculate One fulfill her vow at last, and make amends long overdue.

To their dismay, the Capricious One was nowhere to be found. Upon further investigation, they discovered the remnants of a monstrous form that had been scavenged and picked upon in a manner similar to ants feasting on a dying animal. Scales, flesh, blood and bone all stripped away until barely even a skeleton remained - all while the wretched creature had still been alive. What little traces remained proved that the creature was very likely Nabatean.

Horrified by what they had discovered, Seiros, Cichol, and Cethleann conferred and agreed to never speak of this to anyone. They returned to the surface, distraught by their failure and the gruesome fate of their kin.

What they failed to glean was that those who slithered in the dark had already discovered the writhing form of the Capricious One long before the Saints began their investigation. These vultures repaid the generosity of their former ally and hero with a slow and agonizing death. Trapped, alone, and unable to fight back, the creature could do nothing as those who slithered in the dark harvested the very parts of their body down to the last scale, the last drop of blood, everything, until there was nothing left. With these bodily remains, they crafted the final relic - Carnwennan, the Illusory Knife.

But despite their efforts, they were unable to recover the most valuable prize of all - the Crest Stone of the Mist Dragon - which was nowhere to be found. And so, the final relic remained incomplete and dormant. It is said that the knife itself is cursed, and that those who were unworthy yet still presumed to wield it would have to contend with all the pain and torment and anger suffered by Capricious One. Even those who experimented with mere drops of the Nabatean's blood suffered horrific mutations, transforming into monsters bereft of reason.

The knife was sealed in a cache - which one day mysteriously vanished during an underground battle between dissenting Agarthan factions.

Back on the surface, it was not long until the War of Heroes and Saints engulfed all of Fodlan. Somewhere in the Oghma mountains, unbeknownst to all, a serpentine creature emerged from a lake hidden in the wilderness. Upon its forehead, it bore a glowing red stone.

Transforming into a human, they began to make their way deeper south into the mountain forest, towards a refugee encampment under attack by monsters.

News reached Seiros that a warrior-lord had declared that a refuge at Lake Annwen was now under their rule and protection. Only then did Cichol speak of what he had seen on the day the Capricious One was struck down.

#fe3h #fe3h oc #fe oc week #fe-oc-week #fire emblem three houses #body horror #blood #injury #seteth #flayn

[hanniejji]

prom date kazuha just screams slow dancing outside the school where you can faintly hear the music from where the party is. he has you close to his chest, his head leaning on yours and eyes closed—just indulging in the tranquility under the watchful gaze of the stars, breathing in the cool air and the scent that your presence always brings. he feels like floating on clouds right now, heartbeat so loud he can hear it in his ears because you're here, in his arms, sharing this intimate moment with him rather than anyone else. he pulls you impossibly closer when he felt you shiver from the night breeze.

prom date kazuha humming the lyrics of the song to you, serenading you, a small smile on his face because this song really reminds him of you. he then moves his head to touch your foreheads together, love-glazed eyes staring into yours that speaks of his love for you, pressing kisses on your nose and lips.

prom date kazuha who holds your hand on the way home, his blazer or jacket over your shoulder and points at the starry sky—claiming that out of every star in the universe, he'd still choose you.

"you'd choose me over sirius and canopus?"

"of course," he states the obvious, "the universe have so many bright stars out there, but there's only one you."

#totally not writing this because i hated my prom and definitely not because im listening to taylor swift songs hahaha rhymes man #genshin impact #kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact kazuha x gn reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #genshin kaedehara kazuha #genshin kaedahara kazuha #genshin kazuha #genshin kazuha x reader #genshin kaedehara #kaedahara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kaedahara kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha genshin impact #kaedehara kazuha genshin impact #honey writes

[42-because-why-not]

I have no one to scream about this to, but if you didn’t know, Alpha Centauri has an interesting quality to it:

It has a Binary Star System in it.

Rigil Kentaurus and Toliman orbit each other. They are both Sunlike stars, and to the naked eye, they appear to be one star. They are also together the brightest star in the sky, only outshone by Sirius and Canopus.

#good omens #good omens s2 #s2 #this show got me using this god damn app again #hello Mr gaiman #thank you for this but dear lord I didn’t want it to end like that #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #alpha centauri #look I just really like stars and good omens

[luckhissoul]

❛ company . silently sit with my muse to comfort them / athelstan??

@inprometheanfire // / meme // accepting

a whole group of them were dead. most of them not much younger than he was. but somehow when he thought about them he saw them as kids. just bloody kids, who shouldn't have been out here in the first place. the undefended needed to be defended. and yet here they were, slaughtered for no good reason. for no reason at all other than that they had been there. and he had tried to distract himself. but pacing and trying his bloody hardest to name off the stars in the sky didn't do him any good. there was nothing that he could do about it. the images came and went. he had asked once, not too long ago, what the point of that kind of stuff was. athelstan had given him a bloody answer that had frustrated him and left him thinking for days. funny that comes to mind for one reason or another. something about things like this being out of their control. control, light, the thought of having control over his own life had been something he had fought tooth and nail for. but to hear someone say that the whole bloody balance relied on the opposite. it didn't matter if he knew that it was true. that was beside the bloody point. the illusion of control was a lot more better than sitting around here suffering. light, but he's not suffering. some kids were dead. but how many kids had died before? had he mourned them? lost sleep over it?

and then athelstan comes over. as if he knew that what he had said before had crossed his mind. but light, that was stupid. athelstan couldn't read his mind. he wasn't that strange, right? he turns to look at him. and from the look on his face he's sure he heard. and he prepares himself for it. the long talk even if he hadn't asked any bloody questions. he's not in any mood for that. his side is screaming in pain after the stitches, the night air is biting cold. there's this voice in the back of his head that says that athelstan is probably right. but he won't say that much out loud. why should he? the man probably knows already. that's why he talks in that soft, calm but somehow sure way that he does all the time. something that unsettles mat sometimes. had he ever been that sure of anything in his life? enough to go around convincing people about it? there isn't much that he knows of that would be worth any of that effort. there isn't much worth that effort, he's sure of that. but to his surprise athelstan doesn't say anything outside of asking after the wound in his side. the silence makes his head spin. didn't he want to? weren't there a million different lessons he could learn from this. but he doesn't say anything. he just sits there, taking sips from his drink. he doesn't know what to say to any of that. he just gives a shrug in regards to his injury. he had had worse. it was nothing to talk about. but light, the kids. only there wasn't anything to talk about there either. he might end up saying something bloody ridiculous if he even tried to talk. he attempts to continue his pacing but athelstan's presence might be a bit too much. so with a defeated breath he moves to sit next to him. only then does he notice that he's holding two drinks. one he hands to him absently. he actually doesn't even look at him! and there's some relief to that. some strange bloody relief that he won't have to be dragged through the mud of thinking. he lifts his eyes to the sky then before taking a drink, giving him a brief glance. "canopus is right there..." he says quietly, with only a head of his head to indicate where he meant.

#inprometheanfire #inprometheanfire ; athelstan #idk what this is really but i'm here for it #( answered memes )

[theotherjet-archive]

ngl but I don't like sharing my problems at all because I know there are people who went through a lot more worse and also not as bad as me

#Yes im still a sad motherfucker #canopus screams

[officialleehadan]

Cujam Defendant

There wasn’t time for interpersonal issues. Not with aliens bearing down on them, hive upon hive, all determined to wipe out humanity.

So naturally, Andra and Cygnus were trying to broker peace between two parties that were only working together because something much worse had showed up.

“I don’t particularly care that you have a problem with how the Edge pilots are managing their ships,” Andra said, with the threat of her power granting her the authority to shout down the Core organizer who was causing problems. “You know there’s a chain of command for this sort of thing. You don’t get to sling your authority around and hope that nobody will notice that you’re making problems for the lower ranks.”

The woman, whose name was Agnes according to her name tag, was proud, and not about to give up with a fight. Thankfully, however, the Core respected psionics more than the Edge did, and Andra’s place in the chain of command, by right of her own power, made her a fight nobody wanted to pick.

It probably didn’t hurt that most of them remembered the way she almost tore the ship apart during the early days after her rescue, and some of them remembered the day Asteroid Base 42 was destroyed. A very few know that Cygnus had fought her for control that day, and he hadn’t won. He hadn’t lost either, but when someone who could crack a moon in half didn’t win a psionic fight, people sat up and took serious notice.

Of course, Andra wasn’t the most distinctive person on the base, and she refused to dress the part of the Powerful Psionic the way Cygnus did. There were plenty of people who just didn’t know who she was.

“Who do you think you are?”

Including Agnes, it seemed.

“Andromeda Oct, Asteroid Base 42,” Andra replied shortly, and had the significant pleasure of seeing Agnes’s face go sheet white. Her face might not be widely known, but her name and where she was from certainly were. “Psion, most recently of Blood Star Base. I’m also the most senior Edge pilot here, so if there’s a problem with one of them, it should have come to me.”

She had fought for that. Cygnus wanted her focused on more important things, like surviving the aliens and leading the charge, but Andra pointed out that with hours or days between fights, she was at loose ends.

And a lot of the Edge pilots were people who, like her, had nobody else. Their homes had been some of the first to burn. The lucky ones were able to evacuate their families, but most of them, like Andra, lost everything.

So she wasn’t about to back down and let someone push them around. Not on her watch.

“Commander Oct,” Agnes said, abruptly more polite than she had been a moment ago. Andra wasn’t in her mind, took mental privacy more seriously than most in fact, but she could feel the sudden fear that radiated off of Agnes’s mind. “Excuse me. This mater should never have escalated this far.”

“You’re right. It should have gone through the chain. You’re not part of the Edge folk, so you shouldn’t be giving them orders unless you have a serious reason. Do you have a decent reason?”

She didn’t. Andra knew that already, because Pyx, her best friend and one of only thirty Asteroid Base 42 survivors besides Andra, had come running when the problem started to go from argument to fight. Given, Pyx was kind of weird about psionics in general, but they had been friends for a long time, and he trusted her. Apparently, the argument stared because the Core pilots didn’t see any reason to keep their ships shiny-clean. Paint was expensive on the Edge, and if a pilot had the money for paint, they were probably spending it on a faster drive instead.

But then, looks versus substance was part of why the Edge and the Core were at war in the first place, back before everything went sideways.

“We must present a unified front,” Agnes said with all the outraged authority that Andra had come to expect when a Core officer knew they were wrong and didn’t want to admit it. “This rag-tag bunch are a disgrace to the fleet. What sort of impression are we making on the enemy?”

“Very little,” Andra said, the memories of crystal-scream in her mind. Agnes stuttered something like an apology when she realized that Andra was perhaps the only living human to know, without a shred of doubt, what the aliens thought of them. “They’re a hive-mind. Their only thought is for the orders of their queen, and their queens don’t see the way they do. Believe me, the only thing the queens care about is wiping out every single human being in this galaxy.”

“I… I see,” Agnes said, still pale, and even more afraid now. The fear in her mind was echoed in the pilots around them, who were shamelessly eavesdropping on the disagreement. Their fear wasn’t of Andra, at least, but they knew she knew what they were up against, and they knew she was afraid of it. That was enough to tell them how bad the threat really was. “I didn’t… nobody told us that.”

“Nobody knew,” Andra said, and took a deliberate, nonthreatening step back to give Agnes some space. “Nobody but me. Now you do too, so you can pass the word. Next time there’s a problem with one of my people, you come to me and I’ll handle it.”

She didn’t wait for a reply as she turned on her heel and made for the main hanger where the Edge pilots had their little setup. They fell in behind her in a way that probably looked practiced from the outside, but was really just Edge folk backing each other up.

“If anyone causes you problems, come to me,” she told them, grateful for the immense hangers that were as much a home as her quarters on Blood Star Base. “But remember, we have a fight coming, and it’s going to take every single human we still have to win.”

+++ Guiding Stars:

Andra was a mechanic and a pilot with nothing but an old, battered ship to call her own. Cygnus Volans is the most powerful psion to ever live. They were on opposite sides of a messy revolution, until a shared vision of the future brings their two warring sides together against a much greater threat.

Procyon Moon

Altair Chariot

Vega Dignity

Cappella Besieged

Canopus Emergent

Nihal Collision

Spica Interlude

Polaris Eclipsed

Sirius Empowered

Mizar Orbit (Free on Patreon)

Dabih Risen

Ankaa Igniting (Free on Patreon!)

Leporis Crush (Subscriber Only!)

Porrima Chain

Menkent Ripple

Atrea Rest (Free on Patreon!)

Arcturus Rally (Free on Patreon!)

Acrux Resonance

Adhara Leap (Subscriber Only!)

+++

More Stories!

+++

#psionic #psionics #telepathy #telekinesis #teleportation #empathy #precognition #space #spaceships #space travel #starship #Write #writer #written #writing prompt #prompt #prompts #story #novel #fantastic #romance #romantic #love #spilled ink #spilled writing #spilled romance #spilled feelings #supernatural #writeblr #lee hadan

[hnngworthyart]

welcome to the splatlands, we have:

✓ nonbinary steampunk fanatic feat. screaming fish nugget (Ikiru "Kura" Kuratani & Banshee)

✓ genshin impact addict who has never touched grass in months (Canopus Carina)

✓ totally a legit vampire and yes the fangs are real (Cassius "Cassiel" du Mont)

✓ some famous utaite/vtuber on the internet (Komori)

✓ NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE NIGHTMARE (Wahoo Wally)

we hope you enjoy your stay! (๑>ᴗ<๑)

#inkura #my oc #splatoon #splatoon oc #kura #banshee #canopus #cassiel #komori #wahoo wally

[goatbi]

The Riverbank Chapter Seventeen

Tommy knew that the fight was still raging on, that Capella could not sit here frozen in it’s anguish forever. Still, he let it cry for a moment more, let it break apart as the realization that the one person it though that it could trust in life had betrayed it before they were even close enough, had orchestrated it’s pain. 

But the moment had to end. The fight had to go on, and Tommy knew this well. So he pulled away from the clinging hug, holding it’s face carefully. 

“Listen. I need you to know that we can help, but right now, we have to take him down. He will do this to others if we don’t, you understand? More will die for his idea of justice, and it’s not worth it.” 

Capella nodded, shaking, but holding onto Tommy’s wrists, steadying itself, calming as quickly as it could manage. Tommy stood, carefully pulling it up with him. 

“And I promise. We have quite the capacity for forgiveness. Benrey tried to kill us, and we killed daem, now look at us.” Tommy grinned, and it got a surprised laugh out of Capella, just enough for Tommy to feel comfortable letting down the light. 

And what a sight to return to. 

Canopus was collapsed in the corner, blood leaking from a rather serious head wound, though, if Tommy had to guess, it was less them being incapacitated by it, and more them trying to heal it quickly in order to get back in the fight, based on the brightly glowing blood, rather than the normal just slightly glowing blood. G-Man and Arcturus were locked in what seemed to be a stalemate, though both looked rougher for wear. Arcturus’s nose was bleeding heavily, dripping bright gold against the concrete, one arm hanging limply by his side, a snarl painted across his lips. G-Man, on the other hand, had black blood smeared up G-Man’s face, one eye half closed against the sting of it, though Tommy couldn’t see a source, as G-Man leaned more against one leg than the other, eyes laser focused on Arcturus. 

Capella broke the stalemate in a second. Upon seeing Arcturus, Tommy could almost see the despair turn to rage, and with a scream that nearly hurt, it launched itself at Arcturus, landing a punch across his face, tears streaking down it’s face. Tommy took the chance to move over to G-Man, slipping under one of G-Man’s arms, dragging the two of them over to Canopus, whose skin was still stitching itself back together across their skull, one eye tracking Tommy and G-Man, the other lying still in it’s socket. 

Tommy got G-Man down, watching as G-Man’s ankle popped back into place with a sickening snap, eyes snapping back to Canopus’s face. “What happened?” 

“He’s pretty fucking strong is what happened.” Canopus muttered, pressing against their eye, and Tommy realized that it had been nearly out of the socket, which is why it hadn’t tracked them like the other hand. “What happened with Capella?” 

“Arcturus helped kill it’s entire constellation, with the help of a black hole, which Capella saw, and then Arcturus framed himself as the hero of the story. I managed to get that through to it, and uh...” Tommy glanced over, relishing, for a moment, the fear in Arcturus’s eyes. “That happened.” 

“Go help it. I have no doubts that you- that Arcturus could beat it in a fight like this. You can, you need to help.” G-Man’s head fell back for a moment, and Tommy nodded, watching skin knit back together for a moment, before standing and moving back over to the fight. 

There was something to be said of a star raised by a black hole. Stars are not often ruthless on their own, and this is still shown in Tommy, as he was always prone to seeing the positive in everyone, while black holes tended to see the negative, tended to watch themselves a bit closer. A black hole raising a star meant one thing: The star in question tended towards the positive as one would expect, but never be blinded to the truth, and Tommy was all the more powerful for it. Warmth radiated off of him, as Capella’s screaming began to form words around him, though he didn’t pay attention to them, fire burning through his body. 

If he could get a clear shot, Tommy could end this entire time in one hit. Destroy Arcturus completely, past the atomatic level, leave him no chance of ever coming back. He didn’t even need to do it completely, just a clear shot to the heart, and Arcturus would be no more, they could get out of here with no casualties except him. 

That was the only death that needed to happen. 

Still, Tommy had no clear shot, as Capella screamed, burning hands tearing through Arcturus’s flesh, and Tommy saw the truth behind Arcturus. 

He ruled over fear, not power. As long as he was feared, he was strong. As long as he had control over someone with more power than him, like Capella, Arcturus could steal their power and make himself seem more than them in comparison. With Capella no longer scared of him, with Capella full of rage against him, Arcturus lost a chunk of his abilities to it, and thus... he was scared. 

In a split second, there was a clear shot, and Tommy didn’t hesitate before taking it, burning flesh pulled back, no longer a fist, but instead just pure energy, pure power, sinking through to Arcturus’s heart, closing around it. 

Perhaps, however, he should have hesitated on that shot, as his molten flesh passed through two bodies. 

#hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #tommy coolatta #gman coolatta #capella #canopus #arcturus #Feelings In Various Ways #im... sorry? #body horror

[qt-caity]

Star Trek Secret Santa 2020

A fic for @saritaadam for @startreksecretsanta for the prompt of “TOS Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura on their own adventures.” Thanks to @that-one-curly-haired-chick and @wreckx for looking it over for me.

“I’m still not sure I get it, “Chekov whispered under the latest round of applause and laughter.

Sulu was already prying the Russian’s communicator out of his hand and sliding it towards the middle of the table. “Not much to ‘get’ here, pal. Just hope you aren’t unlucky.”

Moments ago, when Chekov had been hovering in the doorway of the recreation room to see a group of senior officers huddled around a ring of communicators on a table, his first impressions were those of a cult. The deck officer who glanced up and immediately asked “You in?” did little to assuage that. Yet Chekov was smart enough to know that you could hardly afford to alienate other crewmembers in the early days of your first assignment. If the four hundred something people on this ship were all members of some secret cult, well, it was time for him to learn its laws.

Luckily, Lieutenant Sulu had recognized him and immediately waved him over to sit by him, persuading the others to let him have one round to watch before joining in the fun.

Unfortunately, Chekov was still confused as to what this fun was.

“Is this something for all in Starfleet? A game everyone plays?”

Sulu smiled and shook his head. “Only we’ve got Uhura. It’s basically a free show, Pavel. The price is just—” His words faded as the bosun whistle on the wall panel sounded.

“Kirk to Sulu.”

“Shit.” Sulu groaned.

Uhura rose gracefully to a chorus of cheers and groans, which quieted as she reached the panel.

“Kirk to Sulu.”

“Nyota, be kind,” Sulu begged before he was promptly shushed by the rest of the table.

Uhura gave a wink before extending a graceful finger to the comm. “Sulu here.”

Chekov blinked. The last round that he’d witnessed, he’d assumed Uhura was just answering comms in silly voices for fun. Knowing that her voice was now a perfect impersonation of Sulu’s. . . well, apparently that was the price of the show.

“Sulu, regarding our course to Agaron PrimeI. If we were to make a stop at the Canopus  first, how much would that delay our arrival?”

The table exploded into a muted explosion of giggles as every eye turned expectantly towards Sulu, who had sprung into action. Two fingers, then six, then four. A jabbing finger. Eight fingers. His hands held close together, then spread far apart.

Chekov looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Uhura kept her cool gaze. “Did you say Canopus, Captain?”

Two, six, then four fingers. Three jabbing motions. Eight fingers, A decidedly frustrated and sarcastic spreading of the arms.

“Yes, Canopus. How long, Sulu?”

A pause. “I’m sorry sir…I’ll need time to work that out.”

“Hmmm. I see. See that it doesn’t take you too long to find a calculator, Lieutenant. Kirk out.”

“TWENTY SIX SOLAR DAYS,” Sulu burst out as soon as the red light on the wall dimmed. “IT’S FOUR POINT 8 LIGHTYEARS, AVERAGING 5.4 WARP, CALCULATED IN THEIR LOCAL TIME, THAT’S TWENTY SIX SOLAR—”

“Don’t tell her, laddie,” chuckled Scotty as the rest of the table burst into laughter. “Sounds to me like you’ve got a call to make.”

Sulu slumped in his chair and dejectedly sipped his drink. “One more round. The captain already thinks I can’t do warp equations at the ready. Five more minutes won’t damage my reputation any further.”

“I’d spend that time practicing your charades,” Uhura added lightly as she came behind Sulu’s chair. “No sun? No days? I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

“Just a life ruiner,” Sulu muttered darkly, but his mouth twitched as he brought his glass to his lips again.

“I do think that I’ve only one more round left in me, so before you all—" Uhura frowned as one of the communicators on the table buzzed with its whistle. “Is that…Pavel’s?”

Chekov’s heart sunk. “Da.” His shiny communicator stood out in the ring of dingy dull devices. “Yes, it’s mine.”

Everyone else reached out to pocket their device, murmuring in surprise as Uhura stayed put behind Sulu.

“That’s not fair to me, he’s only just got here!”

“You’ve had seven days, Nyota! You mastered Klingon barroom slang in half that time.”

“We do tell everyone you’re the best at this, you know.”

Uhura crossed her arms. “I’ll have you know Klingon barroom slang is quite easy to pick up once you’ve mastered one particular expletive. I’ve hardly gotten to spend any time with Pavel so far!”

“Yes, give the lady a break, please. It’s not like I have any noticeable accent to copy,” Chekov added helpfully, wondering why so many people broke out into snickers again.

“Sorry, Nyota. Your own rules, after all,” said Sulu firmly, gracefully reaching across and holding the communicator over his head towards Uhura.

“Sore loser,” Uhura muttered, but opened the communicator anyway and took a deep breath. “Chekov here.”

A mutter of approval circled the table at the reveal of Uhura’s first Russian accent. Not half bad, Chekov admitted to himself. She did sound like she came from St. Petersburg instead of Moscow, but he could take that up with her later.

“Ensign Chekov, this is Mister Spock.”

Whispers of excitement now. Sulu glanced over in time to see Chekov’s mouth beginning to open, and quickly slapped his hand across it. “Rules, Pavel.”

“Yes, Mister Spock.”

“Ensign, I am calling regarding our latest discussion that we had about the—”

Uhura’s eyes met Chekov’s, which were widened in shock. Hurriedly, she cut Spock off. “Da.”

“You know to what I’m referring?”

“Yes.”

“And you are prepared?

“…Da.”

A muffled scream came from behind Sulu’s hand, and other officers had to lean forward to keep Chekov from thrashing out of his chair. Uhura grimaced. “Vell, actually…”

“All can be arranged in more detail the next time we meet, Ensign. I look forward to seeing you at 1900 hours. Spock out.”

Sulu quickly withdrew his hand before it could be bitten off as the Russian threw himself out of his chair and gestured wildly towards the whole table. “CRAZY, ALL OF YOU. INSANE!”

“I tried to keep it neutral! I said ‘Da!” Uhura offered defensively.

“A WERY IMPORTANT ‘DA.’” Chekov broke down into a string of Russian which, if Uhura’s face was any clue, followed a drastic line of thought.

“Pavel, Pavel…” Sulu awkwardly stood next to the frantic ensign and grabbed his shoulder. “I know you just got here, and Mister Spock can seem…well, he’s a lot at first. But whatever you promised, Uhura can help you with it.” He looked up to meet Nyota’s glare. “Uhura and I can help you with it.”

********************************************************************************************************

    Sulu broke into what he hoped looked like a nonchalant jog as he followed Chekov down the hall. Uhura was keeping a much more leisurely pace behind, taking the time to greet every crewmember they passed. 

    “Pavel,” Sulu hissed after having to apologize to the fourth redshirt that Chekov nearly plowed into. “You said that you--Uhura--agreed to present your research to Mr. Spock tonight. We can help you finish, you’ve got plenty of time!”

    Chekov slowed in front of a laboratory door, nervously looking up and down the corridor, and even taking a peek into an adjacent Jeffries Tube. Uhura gracefully ducked her head to hide her smile. “Research is done, only....too much.”

    “Pavel, I don’t--” the door whooshed open and behind him, Sulu heard a particular Klingon expletive.

    “Pavel, you’ve only been here a few days!” Uhura cried in dismay, looking at the parts spread across the floor. “This looks like you spent months dismantling this!”

    “Well, I guess I can’t make fun of Riley for his lab accident anymore,” Sulu said lazily, picking up a piece of circuitry to inspect. “Remind me to never introduce you to him.”

    “This is serious!” Chekov was practically vibrating between the different corners of the room. “I was finishing my research and the machine was slow, so I try to improve it, but then it jammed, and I thought if I took it apart I could find problem--”

    “You know who would be best equipped to fix this?” Sulu murmured to Uhura. “One Mister Spock.”

    “Oh, hush,” Uhura scolded over Chekov’s wounded cry. “There’s always Mr. Scott. He was just with us, I can go--”

    “No, no, no!” Chekov pleaded, his eyes wide. “No senior officers. Nobody important. I cannot risk having the first thing on my record be a demerit!”

    “Or an invoice,” Uhura added lightly.

    “Thanks for the compliment, Pavel. But neither of us are engineers.”

    “Speak for yourself.” Uhura plucked the circuit out of Sulu’s hands. “I’ve done emergency surgery on my array to at least hide most of the damage here.”

    “Fix it enough so that some other poor soul will come and break it next. Sneaky.”

    Chekov looked as though he were about to faint. “It’s not my intention to--”

    “We’re just kidding, Pavel. Grab a hyperspanner. If we’re going to let Mr. Spock in here in time, we’d better hustle.”

********************************************************************************************************

    When Mr. Spock entered the environmental sciences lab at 18:58, he found a more sociable scene than he was anticipating. 

    “Lieutenant Uhura. Mr. Sulu,” he nodded. “What brings you to this part of the ship?”

    “Just getting to know the new Ensign, sir. We’ll be out of your way now. Uhura, would you like to join me for dinner?”

    “Of course, Hikaru.” Uhura grasped Chekov’s hand for a moment, before placing it firmly on the center of the console plate, giving it an extra press before leaving to follow Sulu. “STAY confident, Pavel, and good luck.”

    Sulu waited until they were a whole corridor away before letting his head roll back with a sigh. “He’s going to be trouble.”

    “All the good ones are.” Uhura and Sulu reentered the same rec room as before just as a bosun whistle sounded from the wall panel. 

    “Uhura! I’ll wager my Enolian spice wine that you can’t fool whoever’s on the other end of that one!”

    Uhura only paused for a moment before shrugging and making her way over. Sulu shook his head, dumbfounded. “You never learn, do you?”

    “Be a dear and fetch my dinner and I’ll share some of the wine with you.”

    “Yes, ma’am” Sulu saluted and made his way over to the replicators. He was about to punch in his order when he saw a figure duck behind a receptacle. Curious, he peeked around.

    Captain Kirk was hunched over his communicator. “Ensign, you sound unwell. Should I call Sickbay?” 

    Kirk looked up to glance across the room and immediately met Sulu’s gaze. He smirked, put a finger to his lips, and winked before speaking again. “You really sound congested, Ensign. Don’t make me make this an order.” He then leaned away from the communicator to whisper to Sulu, “Keep quiet about this and I’ll keep quiet about the spice wine.”

    “Aye, sir,” Sulu whispered back and turned back to the replicator. The new Ensign might be a handful, but he would fit right in on this captain’s ship.

#star trek #tos #uhura #chekov #sulu #star trek secret santa #star trek secret santa 2020 #fanfiction #fic #my stuff #personal post

[yanara126-writing]

The First Rays of Dawn - Canopus (2/3)

Both gods and kith are fickle creatures, even when they try.

Or: Waidwen and Eothas' first hours together.

Read here or on Ao3

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

When Waidwen woke, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been out in the first place. There was no slow progress of waking up or even a sudden start. One second he wasn’t aware, the next he was, and found himself laying face first in the dirt. He blinked confusedly and carefully flexed his fingers and then his feet, and when he found everything still where it belonged, started to get up.

Only to immediately keel over again, when the world split into so many layers and dimensions that he didn’t know which way was up or down anymore. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, pressing his hands into his face for good measure. Everything was pulling at him from all sides and every cell in his body screamed for it stop, whatever it was. Even with his eyes closed, he couldn’t escape it. He could feel every living thing around him tear at his very essence, every worm, every insect, even the half dead plants seemed to claw at him.

When something else entered his awareness, it was a relief, until he noticed where it came from. The strange thrum of energy that had hesitantly brushed along his senses was situated somewhere within himself, on a plane of existence he hadn’t even been consciously aware of until then.

Waidwen did the only thing he could in that moment. He screamed.

The entity started flickering wildly, causing Waidwen to panic even more. Suddenly the presence flinched further into his perception and flooding him with emotions that weren’t his. He choked on them, blindly flailing about, until his senses were enveloped in a strange warmth, that forcibly pushed away his terror. He was left gasping and weirdly empty, not afraid anymore, but feeling like he should be. The emptiness however left him open to those other feelings. Concern and alarm blanketed his own thoughts, pushing him to answer.

“What... the fuck... is that?” he choked out, the world still spinning around him with the force of hundreds of small lives and he desperately clawed the ground in search any kind of stability.

That is my perception of the world. I shared it with you. An all encompassing voice rang through Waidwen’s head, causing another quickly suppressed spike of fear, which in turn made Waidwen cringe at the uncomfortable hollowness. It felt like he forgot something he desperately needed to remember, only a hundred times worse.

“Yeah well... stop! And get your hands out of my head!” he growled through the pain, the lack of fear leaving space for a desperate anger, that was strangely left untouched. A small part of him, that sounded suspiciously like his father, told him, he probably shouldn’t be talking to a god like that, but at this point Waidwen couldn’t give a damn anymore about what he should and shouldn’t do.

I do not want you to be afraid. That answer made Waidwen’s blood boil even more and he completely forgot who he was talking to.

How dare he! How dare he think that would be his choice!

“That’s not your decision to make!” The energy in his head tightened and for a second Waidwen thought he’d gone too far. But then the weight lifted and the presence retreated back to the limits of his consciousness. Briefly the panic seeped back in, but with his wishes acquiesced Waidwen found himself calmer than before.

As the being receded so did the tug on his essence and the world slowly righted itself. Taking a deep breath, Waidwen blinked and for once took comfort from the feeling of dirt under his cheek. When he was sure everything was normal again, he carefully got up to his knees.

Waidwen winced as a light, but stabbing pain shot through his knees and sat down to pluck out the gravel. He took another breath and let the situation sink in. He’d really met Eothas. More than met. Not quite ready to face his own feelings on the matter, he decided to deal with the obvious first.

“Are you still there?”

I am. The voice was quieter than before, not as oppressive. Like the speaker was standing in front of him, instead of sitting on him and screaming in his face. It also had a strange quality to it. Was that... shame?

Waidwen shook his head. No, surely that wasn’t it. He licked over lips and swallowed, stalling for time while he tried to call back the courage he vaguely remembered having before.

“Okay then... First rule if we do this: No getting into my head uninvited.” The silence that followed tore on Waidwen’s nerves, even if it was only a few seconds long.

I am sorry. The apology caught Waidwen by surprise, it’s sincerity even more so. It left him floundering for an answer, as he wasn’t used to granting someone else forgiveness. That realization caused him more guilt than any other misdeed he’d ever regretted. He supposed the god of redemption was as good a place as any to start trying.

“Well, as long as we’re clear on that.” The presence flared up lightly and warmly, in what Waidwen could only assume was agreement. The foreign feeling still unnerved him, but the god kept his promise and remained as far to the edge of his consciousness as he could.

Uncomfortable with the silence and after having cleaned his bloodied knees as much as he could out in the field, Waidwen climbed to his feet and took a look around. He picked up his sickle and winced, when he saw the upturned basket. So much for that batch.

Apparently he’d been the lying in the field the whole night, as the dawn was already breaking, painting the horizon a soft red. Everything was glazed with a golden glow so vibrant even the withered vorlas seemed alive. If he hadn’t just reassured himself that his sight was his own again, he’d have thought it another one of Eothas’s effects. How it was, he could only question if the dawn had always been this beautiful and he’d just been too busy sulking to see it.

When he turned his back to the light this time, it was it wasn’t bitterness, but determination that filled him.

#Pillars of Eternity #Eothas #Waidwen #fanfiction #writing #dawn #miscommunication #divine powers can't be good for your health #they're both doing their best #(2/3) #drama #the first rays of dawn

[satendou]

Canopus, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix! I love your writing btw!! 🖤💕

thank you anon! i appreciate you, you little grey blob (￣▽￣*)ゞ

Canopus: Have you ever broken a bone?

bruh someone kicked my hand in the fifth grade and snapped my pinky out sideways and the fools at school gave me an icepack and sent me home on the bus skfdsjljfs i hated them sm. then at the hospital my hand wouldn’t go numb so they had to stick me six times with novacaine UGH.

Betelgeuse: What’s something you can never forget about?

funnily enough i’m drawing a blank. oh ik it’s a bit traumatic but my stepmother came into my room at like 2am once screaming at me to call the cops bc her partner supposedly hit her. i went back to sleep thinking i was dreaming til she came back in and asked if i’d done it lmao.

Bellatrix: Have you ever been forced to lie/keep a secret?

loaded question for someone like me. i kept my abuse secret for...8 years? it’s easy to talk about now but that is definitely the biggest secret i ever kept. my whole childhood was built on lies lmao it wasn’t great.

#tw: abuse mention #i can't think of anything else when asked questions like that tbh so #sorry #spencer. talks #the unknown

[simping-for-fives]

Aries: Favourite movie?  + hercules whats your favorite instrument

Aries and Hercules

Fave movie is probably LOTR: Return of the King. Revenge of the Sith is a close second though!!

I don't really have a fave instrument. I'm not musically inclined enough lool. Drums?? Something I can bop to

Aldebran and Canopus

Answered aldebran here

I've never broken a bone but I have had some damage to it (I had to wear a bandage?). When I was 6 I was standing in my mams car, top half of me out the sunroof, and my sister slammed the car door shut not realising that my fingers were on the frame. Yeaaaaa it wasn't nice. I was screaming and my sister thought I was laughing so she started laughing bruhhh

Denab

The country being the UK - technically yes. I was born in Pakistan but I've lived in the UK since I was a baby. And I haven't left the UK since. (I'm poor 😔✌🏽)

#000ayfh #fatima chats too much #ask

[hyojoonf]

Maybe now I'm too obsessed with this theory (The Star Lords Are Characters The We Already Know) but since Yana loves to drop hints everywhere and in these days I saw many people thinking the same, I want to do a fast recall for the one that gave me many thing to think about AKA Joker and add a little new funny thing.

1) Snake cares for all the circus members BUT he always puts Joker before the others, it can be a method to do not repeat always the same thing ("the circus crew" x33, for example) but in fact, he ALWAYS says that as in chap 50.

2) That REALLY ODD thing that O!Ciel said in the very same chapter. As I already said if this is a foreshadowing of some type it surely wasn't intentional BUT this is Yana's work at the end of the day so U KNOW. If he wanted to give an explanation for the lie that he told at Snake he could have said many different things. But Yana wanted to put this other excuse, and everything about it screams SPOILER.

3) The thing that if Joker is one of the Stars, it can affect deeply O!Ciel. Joker is one of the ghosts that hunt O!Ciel the most, and this was well showed in chap.95

4) Joker died in a very horrible way but the cause of death was simply blood loss, so in fact, apart for the lost arms (and well if they can keep him "alive" i guess they can also give him two prosthesis) his body, if saved, could have been pretty "good" to use.

5) Another interesting thing is that he can be not one but TWO different stars. He can be Canopus (we will see it later) and also Polaris. Now, Polaris is the most difficult but is still a chance.

PROS:

He can be REALLY mad if we think at what happened to him and the people he loved the most.

He was some sort of butler and also we can see him portaited as one* in the cover of Raibow Butler 2 when in fact we have many "official" butlers. He can easily work as one too, in case.

He can use knives.

If was really Polaris the one who killed Agni, we can explain his strenght with the prosthesis thing. Like, maybe he was not only, well, strengthen but also his arms can be something developed as well.

*Here he goes

CONS:

The butler thing is a little bit difficult.

Polaris seems really violent, for me even if he has gone mad Joker is the type to remain calm. We already saw him waiting the very last to intervene so this can be stated as canon, maybe?

Now! For Canopus.

CONS:

His room is rather simple, in line with how he is used to (from the street until the Noah's Ark)

The bandages remind me that his arms are gONE so maybe okay with the prosthesis but he maybe needs madications pretty often.

Again for the prosthesis, this can explain why he isn't collecting blood for R!Ciel: he is still unstable or without them.

Maybe i'm seeing too many things but look at these TWO pretty little stars.

CONS:

In fact the only one is that he isn't one of the Stars.

6) Yana said that in this art the background has many meanings. Now, the thing i see the most are stars. Like. ONLY STARS.

And we see many stars also in the panel before, when O!Ciel dreamed about Joker, Doll, Madame Red, R!Ciel and their parents. Now, the people who talked with him in that dream in a cold way were R!Ciel, Madame Red and him. Doll didn't said anything to O!Ciel.

7) On a "serious" note the most interesting thing is that if he is in fact one of the Stars, this can bring many plot developements, from Snake's loyalty to O!Ciel's regrets. He is one of the very few people O!Ciel feels guilty about, like one of the five??? And beside his parents we have only him and two other people who can be one of the Stars (Madame Red and Doll). And UT had the chances to take the bodies of them all, if we have to be honest.

What do you think? ((sorry for my english, it's late and it isn't my first language 🤡🤡🤡))

Here the first post about everything, thanks to the amazing OP who said many interesting things! Thanks to you i was able to post this even if i'm really embarassed to showy theories 💜

#kuroshitsuji theories #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji spoilers #joker kuroshitsuji #black butler

[wisepuma23]

The Butterfly’s Shelter Chapter 3

First Chapter - Previous Chapter

Notes: 

puma - okay okay this is late! I know >.< But gosh darn it I made it longer so it’s worth the wait!! And a big round of applause for Tashi to draw two wonderful illustrations for this chapter. And her writing helped <33 So much!! Also, shout out to @my-happy-little-bean and @sher-soc-the-famder for being my betas for this chapter!! Love them. Also, I’m not going to make promises for the next chapter, but I do think it’s gonna be around the end of November. Hopefully! Also, I’m trying out a taglist so let me know if you want to be on it! 

Tashi - I had so much fun working on this chapter and doing the illustrations for it! Thank you to the betas and for you followers who have been so patient! Also shout out to Puma cause they're always reminding me when my illustrations are inconsistent to what's in the fic so I can fix them! I appreciate it so much!

Warnings: Language, Minor Injury

Read on AO3

Logan opened his eyes to a wide blue sky. Grass waved in his vision as blurry confusion took hold of him. Where was he? Logan groaned as he sat up, clutching his head. Any knowledge he had slipped through his fingers. He rubbed his eyes as the wind whistled through the yellow grass in all directions.

He was in the middle of nowhere.

Fear clutched his heart as he stood up. Grass stretched to the horizon, no matter how much he spun around, the sight of fields in all directions. This...this wasn’t right! Logan’s mind raced as he took in the idyllic scenery. It was something straight out of one of Roman’s storybooks. But there were no houses. No cars. Nothing but the faint buzz of insects and the flowers.

‘Where...where was home?’

I want to go home.

Logan stumbled from the wave of homesickness that almost overtook him. This wasn’t home, but where was home? He...he didn’t remember.

God, I can’t be lost.

Logan patted his pockets but he had no phone, no compass, and certainly no money. The sun! Yes, the sun was important.

Logan blinked up at the wide open blue skies again. Birds flew up so high that they were nothing more than black dots. His world tilted as he saw himself from a bird’s eye. Small, unassuming, and a black dot in a yellow field that stretched to infinity. Nausea made his legs weak and with a thud, he fell down to the grass. The wind whipped through his hair as existential dread crawled up his spine and whispered in his ear.

You’re inconsequential.

Tiny in the grand design.

How can you ever be a good parent to--

Logan blinked. To who? He racked his brain. A name on the tip of his tongue. A knot of anger twisted in his chest as the name slipped through his fingers. Failed memory retrieval.

Logan pulled on his hair, an old habit from his formative years; pain pain pain. Who?! He almost yanked a fistful out when--

The sky shook.

Logan looked up to see a bright light streaking across the sky. Distant rumbling disturbed the quiet peace of the fields. A star! Logan walked forward as he followed the trails of dust scattered in the atmosphere. In one blink to the next, the sky went dark. Then, thousands of stars lit up the sky; but Logan only had eyes for one.

A star was falling.

Logan broke out into a run. Leaves and twigs broke under his shoes as the wind’s whistling grew louder. The rumbling in his ears marched like a heartbeat. He had to catch it! Logan held out his arms as he chased the star streaking far overhead. Questions wracked his brain as his breaths grew short.

All stars had names.

Logan looked up at the glittering constellations, vainly hoping to see an empty spot; was it Sirius? A or B? Canopus, Vega, Rigel?

‘No’, his gut answered, ‘that isn’t his name’. Polaris, Pollux, or even Alpha Centauri?

No, no, what was his name?! Think, think, think!! Remember.

The tip of his tongue burned with the word! If only he could find the empty space it left behind. Yet all the stars in Orion’s Belt, both Ursas, and in the Zodiacs were still there, offering him no clues to the star’s identity.

A wolf’s cry split the night. Invisible teeth nipped at his heels as the grass rustled with more wolves. The star grew brighter until it outshone all the others as it careened down further to the horizon in front of him. A hill rose up in the distance. Logan ran but he couldn’t outrun the wolves. They licked their chops as they stared up at the falling star.

No, no, he’s mine.

Logan snarled as he pushed ahead. Run, run, run! His thoughts were racing faster than him; if he jumped from the hill, he could catch him. Before wolves could ensnare the little celestial in their wide smiles and bury him in a place where no star could shine.

The hill rose up before him; so close! He outstretched his hands upwards.

Suddenly, he felt teeth tearing into his shins. He let out a scream as he crumpled to the ground. Jagged rocks bit into his arms as his shins burned with sparks.

Logan craned his head upwards towards the glittering star, the light refracting in his broken glasses. A heavy breath panted down the back of his neck. A stench of animal permeated the air as saliva dripped down his collar.

Logan raised a shaking hand up to the star as three wolves rushed past him. There was no time. Run, run, run away!

“Virgil!” Logan screamed before sharp teeth clamped around his throat.

.

.

.

His eyes snapped open as he clutched his throat. Confusion roiled through his mind as he felt smooth skin under his fingers instead.

A nightmare…

Logan drew in a shuddering breath as he leaned forward on the couch as he rubbed his temple. He’d never had one so vivid before. Logan didn’t take much stock in dreams; they were nothing more than hogwash and subconscious mutterings.

Logan took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He breathed in through his nose until his chest loosened.

The sound of the floorboards creaking echoed in his ears, and his head snapped up at the sound.

Standing in front of him was his sheepish best friend, frozen in place. His sunglasses almost slipping off his nose.

Logan glanced up at the clock; was it really Thursday already? Logan shook his head as Nate came closer and handed him a piping hot cup of green tea.

“How long have you been waiting?” Logan said as he took the cup. “I didn’t mean to sleep in so late.”

“.....Ten minutes,” Nate said, looking over his sunglasses with soulful brown eyes. “And you look like hell for a guy who slept till noon.”

“Five hours,” Logan murmured to himself. “A new record…”

Nate’s eyes narrowed as he pushed his sunglasses over his head.

“Please tell me you aren’t sleeping less than the recommended six to eight hours of sleep. Insomnia can be fatal.”

Logan quirked a smile.

“Perhaps in your shows, but you know I don’t have a history of chronic insomnia. It’s a rare disorder after all,” Logan took a sip of his tea, his shoulders relaxing as it settled in his stomach. “Virgil is the cause, and the only treatment is time. I’ll be fine.”

Nate raised an eyebrow at him.

Logan let out an exhausted exhale as he held his teacup tighter. Scrutiny always made his skin itch and led to him feeling a few sizes too small.

He pushed the memory of his father’s disappointed glare out of his mind. Nate wasn’t his father. Even if his observance skills were off the charts, his eyes held more kindness than his parents ever did. They weren’t awful by any stretch of the imagination, but they weren’t paradigms of greatness either.

“So, Daddio–” Logan snapped out of his thoughts as Nate sat next to him with a soft smile– “when will I see my godson, huh?”

Logan coughed on his gulp of scalding tea. “Oh, excuse me. Yes, we can go see him. His name is Virgil.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nate said as he helped Logan up from the couch. “You don’t shut up about him. His name was the first thing you said to me two days ago and it took you five minutes to stop gushing to tell me who Virgil was. Also you send blurry pictures of your son at 3 AM. And at 9 am. And at--”

Logan adjusted his half-made tie. “I may have gone overboard. Apologies.”

Nate threw off his leather coat onto a table to reveal a loose muscle shirt with dog tags clinking around his perpetually tanned neck. He waved away Logan’s apology like he never minded it at all in the first place. Logan pushed opened Virgil’s bedroom door a crack and then held up a finger to Nate. Quiet.

Logan padded over to Virgil’s bassinet and the exhaustion in his bones ebbed at the peaceful expression on Virgil’s face. His hair stuck up in all directions like a dark halo. His little fingers twitching in his sleep and the tiny little puffs from his tiny lungs paff paff paff in perfect rhythm...

Logan gently picked him up and almost sighed in relief that he hadn’t woken up. Nate watched him with wide eyes as Logan walked over to him.

“Here,” Logan whispered, and held back a laugh of dark amusement at Nate’s sudden anxiety. “Support his head with the crook of your arm and hold him close.”

“Okay, oKAY!” Nate said as he held Virgil in the crook of his defined arms. “Shit, I didn’t mean to be loud. Sorry, I should stop cursing around a baby. He’s just so fudging cute.”

Logan smirked. “Fuck.”

He muffled his laugh at Nate’s face.

“He won’t talk so soon,” he added, almost reassuringly.

“I don’t know,” Nate whispered as he ran a finger over Virgil’s face. “He’ll be as smart as his daddy. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he talks early.”

The tips of Logan’s ears burned at the praise, "We aren't biologically related."

Nate turned around with a smirk. "Like biological parents make any sort of difference. How they raise you– that makes a difference."

Logan held out his arms to take Virgil again, and Nate readily set Virgil back into Logan's waiting arms once more. Virgil sniffled in his sleep. Logan let out a breath, thankful that Virgil hadn't woken up. Logan set Virgil back onto his bassinet and pushed aside his wispy hair to kiss his head.

"Sweet dreams, son."

Virgil gurgled out a sleepy giggle.

These two minutes of pure bliss made up for the rest of the day's hard work of cleaning, changing, and feeding Virgil. Having a baby was no easy task. There were no allocated break times and sleep was inconsistent at best. Logan ran a hand through his greasy hair as he gestured to Nate to leave. Logan left the bedroom door open a crack in case Virgil cried. Even if he had the baby monitor, Logan preferred to be cautious.

Logan crossed his arms as they came to a stop. Nate rested a hand on Logan's arm, gentle and heartfelt. He looked away from Nate's all too piercing eyes. His best friend's remarkable intellect is how they became friends in the first place. However, it made him too perceptive when it came to things like this.

Nate knew Logan was in love before he even knew himself.

"Something is bothering you," Nate said, not even phrased as a question in the slightest of ways. "Spit it out."

Logan shifted in place and then craned upwards to meet Nate's eyes. He rubbed his neck as he sighed. No use dragging it out.

"I had a nightmare," Logan explained. "But it was nothing. Dreams are nonsensical mutterings and it would bore you and--"

"Logan."

Logan huffed out a breath, "Fine."

Nate guided Logan to the couch as Logan told him everything. Nate winced as his dear friend described the teeth at the end. Logan rubbed his arms; he didn't believe in hidden messages in dreams, but Nate had a way of interpreting them into meaningful advice. But it always started with…

"Did you drink water today?" Nate asked with one arm on the back of the couch.

"...No."

"And you haven't been sleeping right," Nate tsked. "Babe, you need to eat and sleep right. Wait, when was the last time you ate?"

"...I can’t remember."

"Sonova--" Nate clasped his hands in front of his face and then dropped it. "LOGAN!" He pulled out a lollipop from a pocket and popped it into Logan's mouth.

"Suck on this. It's cherry, your favorite, and I'll whip up some breakfast."

Logan's eyes widened then took the lollipop out to say. "It's noon."

Nate pushed his wrist to put the lollipop back in. "Time isn't real. But your bad eating habits are."

The sweet flavor of chemical cherry burst on his tongue. Logan sucked on it and immediately his hunger pangs ebbed away. It wouldn't be enough, but judging by Nate's march to the kitchen, he knew that he wouldn't need to wait much longer for real food.

A soft smile grew despite his own attempt to stamp it down. No one told him a side effect of having a son would be smiling much more.

His own mother certainly didn't exhibit the same symptoms.

Logan's smile disappeared. So much for smiling more.

Nate came back with a platter of buttered toast and milk. Logan took the tray with a grateful nod.

"Stress," Nate said as he took a bite from Logan's toast. "That's what your dream meant."

"But what about--"

"It's stress, baby!"

"The wolves---"

Nate shook his head with a cocky grin. "Stress wolves. Come on, when I ever been wrong?"

Logan shook his head, "You need to work on your cockiness."

"And you with your pride."

"Touche." Logan conceded with a nod. He took a bite of his toast, slathered with a heavy helping of Crofters jam, and the taste possessed him. Logan dug into his breakfast like a madman. One bite after another until nothing left but crumbs littered his plate. Nate laughed at the sticky jam around Logan’s face. He raised a napkin and wiped the jam off as Logan grumbled at his manhandling.

“Mmmph!” Logan glared at him, “You need to know the definition of boundaries. I am not an infant.”

Nate laughed a hearty sound from the depths of his stomach, and pulled Logan in for a hug, despite Logan’s incessant squirming. Logan giggled out protests as Nate’s strong arms encircled him; unfortunately, there was nothing to stop Nate’s affections. Logan laid breathless on Nate’s chest as he let a fuzzy feeling overtake him.

He’s never felt happier with a son sleeping in another room, his best friend hugging the daylights out of him, and as he snuggled deeper, the dread of Playdate Saturday faded away.

Logan sat in the driveway, fiddling with the keys, unable to turn them in the ignition. Virgil gurgled around a blue pacifier as he kicked in his car seat. Logan wondered what dreams went through his son's head. No, incorrect, dreams were illogical and nonsensical. However, he did wonder if Virgil had nightmares. Logan's insides froze, what if he had nightmares from the fire?

Logan shook his head, no; he spent every waking moment with him and he would've noticed if Virgil had distressing dreams. And he couldn't escape the feeling that his worry over this simple detail was nothing more than a distraction from what truly ate him up.

Patton's bakery was only a ten-minute drive at the edges of the market district. Yet Logan sat in his car and waited for any burst of courage to go face his best friend.

He watched his fingers glide along the wheel of the car, hyper-focused on the grounding texture. Logan bit back a sigh of frustration at his own cowardice. He knew Patton; he knew his kind smile, his eagerness, his excitability, and his deeply soulful eyes. He knew Patton like his own mind. Perhaps it was those very eyes he feared. Seeing his deep and bright blue eyes staring at him with, what? Shock? Confusion? Anger?

Patton’s kindness swelled from him with no end and tended to be very open-minded. He never hurt a soul in his life. So why did Logan’s palms sweat at the idea of telling him about Virgil? He could just get them both back into the house and call him first but what would he even say?

Why did this have to be so hard?

Then again, Logan did miss seeing Roman and his toothy grin. The kid was adorable too. However, the cardboard sword Roman made himself less so. He carried it everywhere, even to kindergarten, and Logan suffered many 'defeats' at the end of it. Five years of existence had done nothing to extinguish his bundle of energy. Perhaps in ten years, Roman would be less... dramatic.

The click of his seatbelt surprised him; he hadn't even realized that while lost in thoughts, the ice in his bones disappeared.

Logan looked up in the rearview mirror one last time to see Virgil properly strapped in. He looked far too tiny in the red car seat. The belts were fine but were they? Logan's fingers thrummed the wheel and with an exasperated sigh he clicked off his seatbelt again. He turned around and leaned into the backseat to check Virgil's straps for what must have been the umpteenth time. Luck favored the cautious after all.

Logan smiled at the outfit he had picked out for Virgil. It was a striped white and green onesie with a hoodie with two horns sewn on it. Daddy's Little Monster was written across it in a dark cursive script. There weren't many choices in the clearance aisle, but most were for upcoming holidays such as Halloween. Objectively, Logan had to say it looked cute on him. Positively adorable.

Logan pulled on the straps and breathed out as it didn't give. Good. That was good… Logan kissed Virgil's forehead and then settled himself back in the front. He clicked his belt back on. Now to turn the ignition on.

Now, to turn it on.

His thoughts drifted back to the memory of Roman's bright grin as he made grabby hands for Logan to pick him up.

The engine growled to life. Logan winced at the sound and resisted the urge to turn it back off. It would damage the ignition over time if he frivolously turned it off and on to his every nervous whim. Logan changed gears and reversed out of his parking spot. He pulled out of the parking lot and well on his way to Patton’s bakery.

Ten minutes later, Logan pulled into the parking lot of Patton’s bakery. Bright pink and blue umbrellas glowed against the backdrop of the grey sky. Logan turned the knob down to quiet the weather report on how it’d rain tomorrow. And the day after that. Logan turned the ignition off and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding at the sudden silence.

Logan looked up at the neon shine of a pink cupcake with rainbow sprinkles adorned over the bakery. Milena’s Treats, it read in purple cursive below. Pink light spilled onto the dash of his car from the sign, soft rays catching on the bumps of his knuckles. A corner of his lip curled at the sight, if it were any brighter, Logan wouldn’t be surprised if the ungodly glow could be seen from space.

Logan craned his head over his shoulder to glance at Virgil one last time. He hadn’t woken up yet. He looked down at the car clock, three in the afternoon, a time when Virgil commonly fell asleep. His old routine had gone up in flames, and died screaming, so it stood to reason to create a new one around Virgil’s. He found that he didn’t mind the thought at all.

“We’re going to go see your...uncle,” Logan said as he unclicked his belt, “I’m sure you’ll love him. All the kids do, or at least, more than me.”

Logan stepped out of his car with a brown tote bag on one shoulder full of the usual supplies. He shut the door with a gentle click. Then opened the door to the back and picked up Virgil gingerly from his car seat and into his arms. Virgil’s little hands twitched against his dark purple sweater vest and his pacifier cool against his collarbone. Unable to resist, he pulled the hoodie up over Virgil’s head against the slight chill of the fall day.

Logan locked the door with a jingle of his keys. Once. Twice. Then three times to ensure the memory of his car being locked secured in his head. Logan rubbed Virgil’s back in circles as he walked toward the bakery doors. He stopped dead as he saw himself reflected in the windows. God, what even was his hair?

Logan wore a rumpled white dress shirt under his vest and he had rolled up his sleeves. Better to test milk bottles that way. Dark bags under his eyes was a new permanent fixation, no matter how many times Nate texted him the past week about better sleeping habits. Logan looked down and let out a sigh at the new spot of drool as Virgil slept against his chest. Another shirt to throw in the wash when he got home.

Logan didn’t look his best. A vast understatement on his part, no doubt. It mattered not, Logan needed to introduce Patton to his new son, Virgil Crofters.

A burst of giddiness bloomed at the back of his mind, far more subdued than the first time he held Virgil, but no doubt the shock will settle in eventually.

Surely so.

Logan took in a breath and opened the door. A bell ringed his arrival and the sound was enough for Virgil to grumble in his sleep. He knew babies slept deeply but he hadn’t realized they slept like the dead. He certainly didn’t get that impression when Roman at this age woke at every jolt and jingle and certainly had trouble believing it when Virgil spent half the night crying for Logan to feed him, change him and fetch his dropped pacifier. Logan shook his head, better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he should count himself lucky he slept for four hours straight today.

The chatter of customers were quiet. Logan came after the lunch rush so he didn’t distract Patton from his job more than necessary. His eyes scanned around the bakery: more empty tables than taken, but no sight of his best friend. Kitchen, then.

Logan drifted to the counter as he rang the bell, “Patton?”

The back of his neck burned with the weight of heavy stares. Babies often garnered attention but he couldn’t help but shift in place. The chatter slipped into furtive whispers.

“Patton?” Logan called out again, “Are you there?”

The kitchen doors whooshed open as Patton walked backward out with his hands full of a fresh batch of sugar cookies. The frosting was an eye-searing orange that Logan squinted at. Patton had a sweet tooth even if it killed him someday. Patton opened the glass counter with his hips and pushed it in under the soft golden lights.

“One second Lolo!” Patton said, his pink tongue sticking out in concentration, “I didn’t realize the Spooky Sugar cookies would sell out so fast.”

“It’s September.”

Patton stood up, his smile wide.

“It’s never too early for Hallowe--whOA!” Patton paused in what he was doing and took off his oven mitts, placing them on the counter. His lips curled into a smile and he leaned over the display case, reaching his hand forward.

“Babysitting today?” Patton cooed. Logan took an instinctive step back from him. Patton glanced up at him, crestfallen, but moved back down to finish the display of cookies in the case. He wiped a few bat-shaped sprinkles off the plate to make it neater and popped them into his mouth, but he turned to pop one of the leftover cookies into a cute little bag and handed it to a woman who had been standing nearby waiting patiently for her order.

“Have a wonderfully spooky day!” Patton called after her and then wiped his hands on his apron and looked back at Logan. His crestfallen expression gone like it was never there. Patton turned to Logan with a smile bright enough that Logan almost believed it was real.

“Sorry about that,” he chuckled lightly, “so Logan, who’s this little fellow here?”

Logan faltered, “Uh, uhm. This is…”

Patton’s smile faded a little as he looked between Virgil and up at Logan, and it struck Logan that he might be perplexed at his continuing hesitation. He reached out a hand over the counter again; Logan leaned back on his heels. Hurt crossed Patton’s features before a new smile stretched over it, not quite reaching his eyes. Guilt and shame twisted Logan's stomach at knots. Here it comes.

He… he never meant to hurt him. Especially for a lie that had lasted for the past two years. Logan swallowed past the thickness in his throat.

“Patton, this….” It was now or never. Logan had to face this reality and Patton deserved to know. If he held back now they'd never truly be friends. He had to do this.

“This–” He let out a steadying breath– “is Virgil Crofters.” Logan didn’t even attempt to hide his smile as he said the words. “I adopted him last Sunday. He’s my son.”

Patton's face grew ashen as his jaw dropped. A strange sort of croaking fell out from his lips. It was a good thing he'd set the trays down already because he looked like he would have dropped them flat on the floor.

Patton shook his head as if he didn't believe it. He came around the counter and sat onto a stool and ran flour-covered hands through his brown curls. Logan grimaced at the action, no doubt he had to wash his hair later after that….

"What?" Patton whispered, and the sound broke Logan's heart with how much hurt there seemed to be beneath it. "Logan, what?"

Logan opened his mouth to try and speak when a loud sniffle broke his train of thought. Awake and sniffling, Virgil dug his face into his collarbone. He seemed to detect the tense atmosphere. Another thing that Logan had observed over their first week together: when frightened, Virgil clung onto him for dear life. Logan bounced him gently and rubbed his back.

"Shush, it's okay," Logan said, his voice neutral and serious in his low drawl, "Daddy is here. I got you."

Virgil blinked up at him with those grey eyes. Logan smiled as Virgil's hoodie fell down from the action. His cheeks looked rosier than the sickly color he first saw. Perhaps Virgil was recovering from Colic faster than he thought? He had read papers, articles, and even doctors’ case files on the illness and it was rare but not impossible. He rather hoped Virgil had a faster recovery than most because he wouldn’t be in constant pain anymore.

"Oh my goodness gracious." Patton had his hands over his mouth. "You aren't pulling my leg."

"Uh, no…?" Logan said, "And why would I pull your leg? What goal does that achieve? Would that not hurt?"

Logan covered Virgil's ears in time to shield Patton's high pitch squeal that made every dog bark in a ten block radius. Patton bounced in place as he threw around a million questions too quick for Logan to process. Virgil looked up at him and Logan rolled his eyes in return. Truly, why did he love this man?

Virgil giggled, a sort of laugh that tinkled like bells and was as light as a feather. He couldn't look away from the sight. His son's first laugh; among the thousands of the words in the English language, only one was enough. Wow...

"Oh my gosh!"

The two of them flinched. "Inside voices, Patton."

Logan looked up and he froze at the expression on Patton's face. His eyes sparkled alight as his hands were held up in his patented too cute, I'm going to die pose. If Patton sparkled any brighter, he would outshine his garish sign outside. Logan never felt so much like an exposed wire and wished he wore a tie or even a binder labeled "Taxes". He floundered as he gathered up Virgil closer as a shield.

"CUTE CUTE CUTE!!!" Patton hopped around Logan; he already had his phone out and the shutter went off every second. "God, Virgil is such a cutie pie!! Aren't you?" Patton cooed as he snapped another. "Yes you areeee, yes you are!! So handsome like his father."

Patton looked down at his phone, "Oh wow, you sure he's adopted?"

"What do you mean?"

Patton held up his phone to show him, "Both of you got the same look of utter contempt. Boy, he doesn't like the camera either. Like father like son!" His grinning was terribly insufferable.

Virgil squinted in the photo, his grey eyes held a piercing glare. While Logan squinted in much the same way. He never did like candid photos. Much more stressful than a scheduled photo like for his driver's license. Patton tapped at his phone and within a few moments later, Logan heard a buzz from his back pocket.

He mentally noted to save it as his new lock screen later.

Patton came closer and held out a finger to Virgil, "Awww, he's such a cute little bean!"

Virgil burst into tears and wailed. The customers flinched and some Logan could see were covering their ears. Patton winced and gestured for Logan to come behind the counter and into the kitchens. Logan bounced Virgil and shushed him quietly as they followed Patton inside.

Patton brushed his fingers against the small of Logan's back as he led them to a soft chair at the far back next to a spiral staircase upstairs. The touch burned in its wake. His face heated up as he took the seat with a grateful nod. Patton had a habit of giving Logan heart palpitations without him ever realizing he did so. Curse him.

Virgil wept against Logan's shoulder. "It will be alright, little starlight. Daddy's here," Logan rubbed his back in the hopes he relieved some of his boy's pain, "It's just Patton."

Logan squinted into Virgil's shiny eyes for any cloudiness of pain. Perhaps it was his Colic acting up, even if he's been recovering steadily. Logan bounced him on his knee as he talked to him. Patton went upstairs for a few minutes then came back down with something hidden behind his back.

"Hey there, Virgil." Patton cooed as he kneeled in between Logan's legs, Logan refused to acknowledge it even as he seared the image in his brain for later, "Look what I got you!"

Patton waved a stuffed lion in front of Virgil. The surprise was enough to startle Virgil out of crying. Logan pulled out a tissue from his pocket and wiped Virgil of snot and tears. His son scrunched his face up at the action. He would have to deal with it; cleanliness and hygiene were paramount to healthy living.

Virgil cooed as he reached out to grab the lion. His little fingers outstretched and had total faith in his dad's strong grip to hold him steady. Patton held it out to him as Virgil grabbed an ear of the lion. It promptly fell to the floor and out of his frankly uncoordinated handhold. He glared down at the lion as he pouted at his failure and made audible whimpering noises. If they weren’t careful he might burst into tears again.

"You'll figure it out, kiddo!" Patton beamed as he picked it up again, then looked up at Logan, "Yeah, Cow here used to be Roman's favorite until he learned about dragons and white horses." Patton slipped into one of his more fond smiles, "But you can have him."

"Cow?" Logan said as he took the lion, Virgil's eyes brightened as he grasped for it, "Are you quite sure, Patton? I quite remember Roman throwing a tantrum about him when he was three when it went 'missing'."

"He dragged the poor thing through the mud! I had to wash it!" Patton said, then blushed at his outburst, "All I'm saying is that I know you well enough to know that you might need some toys–" Logan opened his mouth but Patton pushed on– "that are not puzzles."

"It's never too early..." Logan mumbled.

Virgil giggled around his pacifier as Logan shook the lion in front of him. Fascinating. Patton held out his finger again but much more slowly than last time. Logan looked between them and hoped Virgil didn't hate him. Well, hate was a strong word, or if babies were even capable of hatred. Most likely they did but Logan didn't want to test that hypothesis out.

Virgil unsteadily reached out his hand and then gripped Patton's finger. He clung onto Logan's sweater for dear life with the other. Patton's face at that exact moment of acceptance went through several expressions that Logan couldn't describe. His wonderfully blue eyes went wide with surprise then grew shiny with stars. And tears, definitely tears. Logan now didn't feel so ashamed about crying profusely for the past week anymore.

Virgil simply had that effect on people it seemed.

Patton stood up and took off his glasses to look up at the ceiling. He blinked and Logan froze at the quiet sniffle. Patton easily cried, but unfortunately, when he cried, Logan soon followed. This cause and effect phenomenon made it hard for them to watch even remotely sad movies together.

Patton set his glasses back on with a rare expression of fragility. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He couldn’t seem to look up just then and that gnawed at Logan’s heartstrings but it was only fair as Logan couldn't meet his eyes. "I...I had expressed my desires in the past about fatherhood. But you told me to wait for a partner, romantic or not, to raise a child with."

The leaden weight of Patton's gaze shifting to look pointedly at him made his skin burn at the contact. Not in the pleasant yet stomach-flop kind of way. The sort that made him want to fling himself into the sun to repent for his sins. If Logan didn’t know embarrassed guilt before he sure knew it now. Love was funny like that.

Virgil's cooing echoed in his ears but it wasn't enough to drown out his own insecurities.

"Logan, I--"

"I couldn't find a partner, Patton." Logan said as his shoulders slumped, "Haven't you said it yourself once? Love has failed me." Patton flinched. "I don't need to fulfill societal milestones to the letter. I can’t simply wait for the one–" For you – "anymore! I...I need to do whatever in my control to live a happy and fulfilled life. And I simply thought you didn't support me in that endeavor..."

"I'm so sorry!!" Patton cried, and here came the waterworks; damn it all. "I was thinking about myself and how hard it was to raise Roman on my own. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you! Because it was hard Logan, it was really hard and it’s going to be really hard!"

Logan twisted his nose in his best attempt to stem the tears at the back of his throat, "But....you made it seem so easy."

Patton barked out a laugh, "It's not. It's really not..."

Logan huffed out a laugh. "I suppose you were right. I'm sorry too. I should've called you earlier." Logan looked up and finally met Patton's eyes head on as his voice wobbled. "I was a mess. I have no idea what I'm doing, I puked. Several times. Oh god, I never puked before and--"

Patton bent over at the waist and engulfed Logan into a hug, careful so he wouldn’t crush Virgil. Logan dropped Cow in shock. A few moments passed then Logan sank into the touch with a sigh and brought a free hand to grasp at the space between Patton's shoulder blades. His fingers shook like pool noodles in a storm. Patton shushed and rocked them gently. Virgil grumbled below the hug. Logan let out a wet giggle and couldn’t fight a smile off his face at imagining Virgil’s little pout.

The tangled mess of his thoughts and anxieties smoothed out as Patton hummed a lullaby in his ear. Every inch of contact they shared made Logan experience what he called "Heart Pat-pilations" and symptoms he had noted over time often included extensive blushing, processing errors, and a reluctance to let go. Such as now. He clutched Patton's shirt, hoping against hope it would never end.

Just for a few seconds longer. Please.

Patton pulled away, with a cheeky smile, "Hey, you can make it up to me by letting me see this goofball more often, huh?"

Logan released his white-knuckled grip of Patton’s shirt as he raised an eyebrow, "Consider it done."

The emptiness between his fingers from the lack of contact wailed. Logan picked up Cow off the floor again and hoped the stuffed lion would abate the feeling. However, nothing could replace the burning of Patton’s touch. That delectable taste of madness at the edge of his awareness. Tortured love life aside, Virgil seemed to enjoy the appearance of Cow again as his giggles filled the air.

Patton held out his arms with a shy smile. Logan hesitated then let Patton take Virgil from his arms at last. Patton beamed as he rubbed an absent thumb against Virgil's cheek. Logan stood up and clutched the stuffed lion in a death grip against his chest. Virgil tried to grab Patton's glasses but the baker saw it coming a mile already and leaned out of his reach.

Patton moved Virgil to rest in the crook of his arms despite his squirming, "Golly, I've missed Roman when he was this age. Full of wiggles and loud as can be. It's been so long."

"If I recall, both you and your ex-wife–" Patton winced as Logan cleared his throat– "didn't get a wink of sleep and went through living hell for the first year of Roman's life."

Patton leaned down to press his forehead against Virgil, "God, I missed that smell. You don't forget it."

"Patton?"

Patton wrenched his head up, his face beet red with embarrassment. Virgil's pacifier threatened to fall out from how much he giggled. Logan resisted the urge to palm Patton's cheek to feel the heat from his blush as he walked closer.  Such a gorgeous flush against his unrequited love's freckles.

"Sorry," Patton said, his blush fading, "It's weird. I know it's weird. You can't just sniff people's babies without permission. No wait, I meant like--"

"Patton." Logan smiled as Patton's babbling came to a stop. "There isn't much I don't understand, and if or when there comes a day where I do, I'm sure I will respect it."

Patton broke out into a sunny smile, "Oh golly, you say the sweetest things! I'm the luckiest man alive to have you as my best friend!"

Logan's smile grew a little sadder. "I feel the same way."

A few beats of silence passed as the two of them shuffled in place. Logan squeezed Cow tighter; the stuffed lion was the same size as his son, but smelled too much like old pizza and spilled hot chocolate stains to be an exact replica of Virgil. Logan buried his face into Cow's head and hoped the ground would swallow him whole. Just end his suffering already.

Logan peeked over Cow to glance at Patton and Virgil. Logan couldn't decipher Patton's expression as he baby-talked down at Virgil. A mix of thoughtfulness and sadness, Logan could tell from the slight pinch at the corner of his eyes.  

"What's his story?" Patton said, at last, his voice quiet. "He's so tiny, but why choose him? I don't understand how could anyone could give this little treasure up."

Logan squeezed Cow even tighter as he snarled, "No one did. His family-" He swallowed past the anger at the back of his throat.

"His family died in a fire. But his extended family believed Virgil to be a bad omen and–” He couldn’t help but let out a bitter huff at the word– “ abandoned him at the hospital." Logan took a breath as his voice grew more unsteady. "They...they didn't visit him even once when he could've been dying from the smoke. He could've passed away among strangers, all alone in a room with beeping machinery, scared and crying....”

The thought made Logan’s gut twist like he’d been stabbed and the knife twisted in circles. “But he didn't."

Logan looked up and balked at the sheer fire alit behind Patton's eyes. He wondered whether Patton still kept his shotgun hidden under the counter. He never had bullets since he never actually wanted to hurt anyone, but at this moment, Logan wouldn't be surprised if he did. Patton looked ready to march out and punch Virgil's old family's lights out.

Logan cleared his throat.

"As for why I chose him? Because he needed me. As simple as that." He brushed a hand over Virgil's head, "He was so small and he was the only one in that room that was going to be looked over because he was sick." His heart squeezed with a sting of pain. "How could I say no to eyes this big?”

Patton’s fire softened into embers. “...You’re a good man, Lo. And I think you made the right choice.”

Logan looked up into Patton’s eyes, that wonderful shade of blue that haunted his dreams. He...he said he made the right choice. Logan preened at the praise as the top of his ears burned. Logan’s palms grew sweaty against Cow’s knotted fur. Patton’s approval made his heart soar. His worries were for naught.

“Ah, that is ki-kind of you to say.” Logan started to say, his voice faltering in this rare moment between them, Patton’s soft look tangling his tongue. Then a loud slam echoed from the bakery. Patton looked away, their tender moment lost to life’s innumerable surprises, and his heart shriveled a little more.

“Daaaadd!!!” a voice shrieked, “You were late! I had to walk home!”

Patton glanced up at the clock. “Oh, shoot! I had to be there to walk Roman home five minutes ago. I better go see him.”

Logan gestured to the door, after you; Patton stuck out his tongue. Virgil’s little grey eyes shone with ire as they made their way back out to the front. Logan held the door open for Patton and they were greeted by the sight of Roman pressing his face against the glass of Patton’s display counter. Patton cleared his throat. Roman shot up and leveled a glare at his father as he crossed his arms petulantly. Logan set Cow aside on the counter.

“Where were you?!” Roman stomped his foot, his little Mickey Mouse backpack jingled on his back, “I can’t believe you forgot me!”

Logan pushed past Patton and kneeled down to Roman’s level and put his hands on Roman’s shoulder. “Did you walk home, Roman? You’re far too young to be doing that.”

Patton adjusted Virgil to lay against his chest to put a hand on his hip. “Who let you walk away? You should’ve waited for me.”

Roman glared up at Patton with tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. “You should’ve been there!”

“Roman,” Logan said sharply. “It’s far too dangerous for a child your age to be walking alone in the city. Next time wait patiently until your father picks you up.” Roman pouted and kicked his feet. “Even if he’s only a block away.”

A hand landed on Logan’s shoulder, “I’m his dad, but thank you.”

Logan jolted and then stood up.

“Excuse me, you’re right: it isn’t my place, I am sorry.” He let Patton walk past him as he rubbed his arms. Patton was more of a father than he could ever be, no matter how many books he read.

“Roman, it’s okay,” --It’s not, “Tell me who was the teacher on watch? You’re not in trouble.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but kept silent.

Roman rolled his eyes, “Mr. Trumpbull was. He sucked on a weird lollipop that glowed and smelled funny. Like winter. But bitter and gross.” Roman scrunched up his nose, “Didn’t like it so I walked home.”

Patton bounced Virgil gently as he ran a hand through Roman’s curls. “Well, I’m glad you made it home safely. I’ll call the school and see what I can do about it.”

Roman’s eyes sparkled. “You’re glad I walked home?!”

“Uh, no,” Logan said, his voice cold as ice. “You need to move schools, that teacher is incompetent and exposing children to secondhand smoke. Not only that–” Logan adjusted his glasses– “no one should’ve let you walk away at all. You could’ve been kidnapped or worse.” He squinted down at Roman over his glasses, “So incorrect, I personally am not glad you walked alone home.”

Roman let out a frustrated yell, “What! Dad, tell him he’s wrong!”

Patton coughed uncomfortably.

“Well, he’s right, kiddo. Even if I could have phrased it better.” Logan’s fuzzy feeling of pride drained away, Patton didn’t approve of his methods or his words. “But it was dangerous what you did. Go grab a cookie, okay?”

“A cookie?” Logan said aghast at Patton’s coddling, but then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Very well.”

It wasn’t Logan’s place to do or say anything more. Patton’s glare over his glasses shut him up on the matter anyhow. Just because Logan was a father now too didn’t give him the right to chide Roman. Logan knew that. He shouldn’t have spoken up at all, but he couldn’t help speaking up on an important matter such as Roman’s safety.

However, Patton did spoil Roman far too much. It made the boy grow up into bit of a brat if he said so himself. Roman’s face lit up and opened up the counter to pluck up a Spooky Surprise cookie and bit into it. Black crumbs fell to the floor unceremoniously as Roman groaned at the sheer amount of sugar. Logan’s mouth twitched with a smile while Patton looked at his son with open fondness at Roman’s unabashed love for his dad’s cookies.

Roman turned around and finally zeroed in on Virgil. “What is that?"

“Oh! This is Virgil,” Patton said as Virgil gurgled, “He’s Logan’s son, so say hello to him! He’s just the cutest little thing ever.”

“Ew.” Roman wrinkled his nose as he looked up at Virgil in Patton’s arms, “Why do you have it?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking why I have Virgil? I adopted him.”

“Oh…” Roman took a bite out of his cookie thoughtfully, “When do you give him back? I know Ms. Applebee gave her hamster back after a few weeks.”

Patton giggled, “No, kiddo. This kind of adoption is forever I think.”

“It is forever.” Logan said firmly, no hint of hesitance in his voice.

“Do you want to hold him, Roman?” Patton said, “Oh, I almost forgot to ask, Logan, how old is he?”

“Three and a half months old,” Logan said, then picked up Roman as he squealed. “Up you go.” Logan set Roman on top of a stool and fought back a smile at the resulting giggles from the kindergartner, “Be very careful when holding Virgil, okay?”

Roman crossed his arms, “Okay, okay. I will, Lo! Geez, I’m not a baby.”

Patton walked over and bounced Virgil to soothe him. Logan’s hands twitched to take him back, but Patton was the more experienced father here. He had to concede to him. Logan instead focused on coaching Roman on how to hold Virgil properly. Within a few heartstopping moments, Virgil settled into Roman’s arms.

Virgil squirmed as he sniffled, Roman stuck out his tongue at him. “Are all babies this gross? Why is he crying?”

“He has Colic,” Logan said, both adults kneeling close to Roman in case anything were to go wrong, “It means his tummy is sensitive and he can be in great pain sometimes.”

“Aw, poor little guy.” Patton frowned.

Roman’s fingers were sticky with crumbs and frosting, staining his cute little onesie. Logan wished he had the foresight to wipe Roman’s fingers ahead of time. Then grimaced as he remembered how infectious playgrounds could be, he hoped Roman didn’t catch anything. Roman looked between the two of them, wheels turning behind his beautiful green eyes, then shouted, “Are you even looking at me?”

“What? Of course, sweetheart.” Patton said, but he kept glancing down at the squirming baby, “Virgil is just so small. Gah, he’s so adorable…”

"He is," Logan said, brushing a finger down his cheek. "I can hardly look away."

Roman huffed, "Is this why you haven't seen me in like fifty years?"

Patton and Logan glanced at each other. Virgil kicked his feet and squirmed in Roman's arms but Roman held him steadfast and true. Patton raised an eyebrow, Logan's shoulders dropped in response, fine, he needed to tell the truth.

"It’s only been two weeks. And yes, I had to baby proof my apartment. I wanted it to be a surprise," Logan said, "Which meant I had to decline our usual game nights at my place and visit county offices in my free time instead of coming here."

"Well, it was certainly a surprise," Patton muttered under his breath, "Hold his head a little higher, yes, that's it."

Logan couldn't read Roman's expression as he whispered, "So...you picked him over me?"

"Kiddo!"

"Preparing for an arrival of a baby takes extensive work and perhaps I should've warned ahead of time." Logan cleared his throat while Roman stared down at the baby in his arms. "Virgil will require a lot of my attention to make sure he's happy and cared for. And he'll come to our game nights too, regardless."

"What?!" Roman shouted, "But that's our thing! Not Vergil's!"

"Virgil."

"Whatever!" Roman's eyes shone, Logan bit back a sigh, children's emotions were so incredibly volatile and unpredictable that Logan didn't know what to say in response, "What about my happiness?! Do you even care?! You love this ugly little thing more than me!!" Then quieter, "Am I not good enough?"

"Roman," Patton cut in, "We talked about this. Sometimes Uncle Lolo might be busy but it's not because of you. Okay?"

"Yes, your father is right," Logan said, "Virgil is harmless. He doesn't have any teeth nor any capacity to replace you. I love him and I love you. Very much."

Roman glared down at Virgil, his jade eyes full of fire. Virgil kicked his feet and squealed in Roman’s arms. Then his cute little blue pacifier fell out his mouth. Oh no, that wouldn’t do! Logan dropped his eyes down to the floor and looked for it. It rolled under the chair. He reached a hand to grab it when Patton’s hand bumped against his.

“Oh--”

“Apologies--”

Patton pulled his hand back like it been burned. Logan ignored the slight sting of hurt at the action, his friend was simply being courteous. Logan picked up the pacifier gently and looked up at Patton’s soft smile. See? He was just being polite, he told his anxieties. Logan met Patton’s eyes and let a smile escape. Not for the first time he wondered if they could be together in another and more kinder life.

Roman screamed, “Ow! You little jerk!”

Patton’s eyes widened as the two of them realized they hadn’t looked at their sons in all this time. A whole minute unsupervised. They whipped up their heads back up to witness Roman’s index finger in Virgil’s mouth, and it looked like Virgil wasn’t letting go any time soon. Tears sprung at the edge of Roman’s eyes. Meanwhile, Virgil practically glowered.

Ah, it appeared like Logan was right after all. Like always. Babies were capable of hatred then. Logan grimaced, but he hadn’t expected it to be at the expense of Roman. In different circumstances, Logan would’ve laughed.

“Virgil!”--”Roman!!” the fathers said in unison.

Virgil let go of Roman’s finger with a slimy pop. Logan reached out to pick Virgil out of Roman’s arms. Patton brought Roman’s fingers closer to inspect. Both of them knew Virgil was far too young to have any teeth to bite but babies’ jaws were quite strong. Patton let out a sigh at the lack of blood on the tip of Roman’s finger. However, before Logan could carefully extract Virgil away from the unruly kindergartner--

“I’ll show you a real bite!” Roman shouted, then bit down on Virgil’s squirming arm, Virgil shrieked.

“ROMAN ALEXANDER MILENA!” Patton and Logan screeched in horror, then Roman released Virgil’s arm in shock. Virgil sobbed as blood welled up from two dark lines of teeth marks on his pink arm. He wailed, pain clouding his grey eyes, and his two small fists hit Roman’s stomach in his flailing. Roman held him tighter to stop him from falling onto the tiles below but it only made Virgil scream to such unholy pitches that the windows rattled.

“Roman, you are in so much trouble!” Patton said sternly, “Give him back to Logan,” Roman hesitated, “Now!”

Logan’s ears rang as he picked up his screaming son from Roman’s uncouth hold. 

Blood. Roman bit down hard enough to make his son bleed. Virgil’s red face of total anger and fright already filed away for nightmare fuel for the next few weeks. Logan shushed him as Virgil clung to his sweater for dear life. Logan rubbed Virgil’s back and hoped against hope that his son’s Colic wouldn’t act up at the same time. Stomach pain and a laceration for a baby must be like absolute torture for him.

“What were you thinking?” Patton said aghast, “You can’t just bite a baby!”

Roman broke out into sobs; he never dealt with scoldings well. Patton never did it often enough since he preferred to give him cookies and make him feel all better. He wanted to see his son smile more often than cry. Logan picked up some tissues from the counter and cleaned up Virgil’s wound of Roman’s spit. Meanwhile, his own shoulder grew wet with snot and tears so much so that Logan considered just throwing the sweater out when he got home.

Patton turned around on his heel to face Logan, his eyes wide.

“Oh my god, Logan I’m so sorry!” Patton said, his voice high and frantic. “Roman, go find the medkit upstairs. It’s under the cabinet, you know where.”

Roman ran away with his jingling backpack growing distant with him. The customers in the bakery whispered among themselves even more. His son’s shrieks and cries made them uncomfortable. Logan abruptly stood up and walked into the back room. Away from the attention and from their stares.

Logan sat back down in the chair next to the stairs. Patton stayed up front to check up customers and to pretend everything was under control. Or more likely, to give Virgil some space to calm down with his Dad. Red and blotchy, his son’s face looked like a tomato, and his shrieks made Logan’s ears ring. Logan couldn’t help but feel like an absolute failure.

If only he wasn’t a lovesick fool and paid more attention! Why couldn’t he just be more attentive like an actual father should be?

“I’m sorry,” Logan said as he shushed Virgil’s cries and rocked him, “It was my fault. One week in and I already failed you.”

Virgil’s cries softened, not so shrill anymore, but he didn’t look like the giggly carefree baby from earlier either. Logan bounced him on his lap and talked to him. He was halfway through his rant about Galileo’s unfair treatment by the Church when Patton came to check on them. Virgil sniffled and his little lungs shuddered but his eyes fluttered with exhaustion. Almost lulled to sleep by Logan’s passionate lecture.

“I found it!” Roman shouted in triumph as he tettertottered down the spiral stairs with a medkit in hand, “I thought it was in the other cabinets but I found it!”

Patton tousled Roman’s hair and then opened it up. Logan held out Virgil’s arm and Patton bandaged and cleaned it up as gently he could. Best to protect it from any infections and germs. Virgil actively fought sleepiness against Logan’s chest at this point. Logan sighed, he needed to call Dr. Picani when he got home for an emergency appointment tomorrow. Or today. Maybe even a hospital. He didn't know.

“Roman…” Patton said as he pushed his son closer to them, “Now what do you say?”

“I’m sorry.” Roman kicked his feet, “That was really mean of me to do. But Virgil bit me first!” Patton glared, “But I’m still really sorry.”

Logan let out a pained sigh, “You’re forgiven, Roman. But don’t do it again. You understand? He’s incredibly delicate.”

“Sorry.” Roman pouted.

Logan stood up and held his sleeping son against his chest, “I have to get going. I’ll call you later, Patton.”

“Oh, of course!” Patton said, his smile a tad too wide, “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what got into him.” Roman huffed. “But you bet I’m going to have a very long talk with Roman.”

Logan adjusted his tote bag as he walked back out into the bakery. “I’ll see you both next time. It’s just...been a long week.”

He glanced at the forgotten stuffed lion, Cow, left on the counter. Logan slowed to a stop, Patton did offer it to him, but did he really mean it? Patton made the decision for him as he grabbed the lion and stuffed it into Logan’s bag for him. Logan’s bone-deep exhaustion dropped a little bit off his shoulders at the action.

“Hey!” Roman protested, “That’s mine!”

“It’s Virgil’s now,” Patton said, “He needs it, and you hardly ever play with Cow anymore. You have more than enough dragons in your room.”

“But-”

“No buts, Roman. That’s when you get older and you want him to be able to have something nice to play with right?”

“No…” Roman crossed his little arms and huffed but his shoulders sagged as a guilty expression crossed his soft features, “Yeah…. Okay…”

Logan tousled Roman’s curls, “Thank you. And I’ll see you next week, little minotaur.”

“HEY!”

Patton giggled, “Drive home safe!”

Logan waved goodbye and left the bakery without glancing back. He drove through the busy city streets as he went through various scenarios on how that first meeting could’ve gone better, or more commonly, much worse. At a stoplight, Logan dropped his head down to the wheel, his heart nearly stopped in his chest when he heard Virgil’s shriek of pain and fear.

He hoped to never hear it again in his life.

taglist! lemme know if you want to be added or taken off

@poisonedapples @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2  @k9cat  @my-happy-little-bean  @sher-soc-the-famder  @confinesofpersonalknowledge  @mariniacipher @finger-gunsss @peanut0303 @ilylogan @princeanxious @khadij-al-kubra @smokeyrutilequartz @pipapatton @ironwoman359 @celestial-firestorm @virge-of-a-breakdown @jadekitten1 @bunny222 @rosesisupposes @wildhorsewolf @sander-fander-sides @polaroid-pumpkins @teacupfulofstarshine @romanussy @ashrain5 @deafgirl-and-hercoven @moonfang03  

#sanders sides #sanders sides fluff #logicality #platonic prinxiety #sanders sides fanfic #tbs #the butterfly's shelter #tashi #myfics

[cfmanymuses]

Mun: Rigel, Deneb, Aldebaran, Canopus, Centaurus, Pegasus, Cygnus, Milky Way, Comet Galaxy, Asteroid, Pulsar.

Space Asks || Accepting!

Rigel: Have you ever gone on a rollercoaster? Not unless you count the dragon one that used to be at the A&P Show? Or the Scream Machine? That’s not exactly a roller coaster, but I don’t like clinging on to things for dear life and being too scared to let go.

Deneb: Have you ever been out of your home country?Nope! I’ve only left the North Island once or twice, but I was too young to remember it.

Aldebaran: What’s something you care desperately about?My friends? (I’m kinda tired so my brain just died here.)

Canopus: Have you ever broken a bone?Nope. Mum did, though. Saw her x-rays yesterday, it’s pretty nasty.

Centaurus: Favourite holiday?I don’t really have one? Any day that I don’t have to go to work is appreciated, though. (I seriously hate my job.)

Pegasus: Favourite place to be?I have several, but right now, it’s at home, with a big bottle of cold water. I’d like it more if Mum was able to come home, but I’ll settle for visiting her at Granddad’s. At least she’s closer.

Cygnus: Favourite weather? I actually like rainy weather! Rainy and cool, because then I don’t feel like I’m dying. Also storms. I like watching those.

Milky Way: Who’s your oldest friend? A couple of girls from primary school (have I told you about them? Jenna and Cim?), and Stuart. I’ve known that guy for well over 20 years. Probably something like 23 years now? Holy shit we’re old.

Comet Galaxy: Have you ever had to leave a relationship because someone changed too much? I don’t think so? The only ones I’ve had to leave are the ones where the other person moved away. In one case, it was a friendship that ended up broken, and we never got to reconnect. Never will.

Asteroid: What does your dream life look like? I don’t know, happy? Hopefully I don’t work in retail and I’m doing something I love?

Pulsar: What do you hope to do in the next 10 years? Get out of retail, maybe move out of Mum’s house? (I said that nearly ten years ago, and I’m still here.) Maybe learn to sew? It would make things easier for when I want to cosplay.

#krazy-rp-hatter #Speak: We Will Listen; #(I've been working on this on and off today!)

[officialleehadan]

Menkent Ripple

“Ursa.”

Senator Stal Ursa was not accustomed to his name being spoken, quietly and without formality. The surprise of it immediately took his attention form the reports he was studying, and when he looked up, he froze.

Everyone knew of the Edge girl from Asteroid Base 42. How could they not, when she had fallen into orbit with Cygnus Volans as if she was made to be there. How could Ursa fail to take note of the woman whose disappearance, presumed death, turned his most powerful psion into a near-mindless weapon. And who, upon her return, somehow got more powerful. Somehow, during her imprisonment, she discovered a way to destroy the ships that were tearing apart their own attempts at defense. The tie was turning. Slowly, but surely. Because of her.

So yes, Ursa knew about Andromeda Oct. He knew where she came from, and that she was an orphan, with no family, and nothing interesting in her future until she came mind-to-mind with Cygnus.

He also knew that she was still fragile. That her talents, apparently as varied and powerful as Cygnus’ own, were unstable at the best of times.

She could probably hear every thought that passed his mind.

He hated working with psionics.

“Come in,” he said, and nodded a dismissal to his aid as Andra walked in with Cygnus’ arm over her shoulders. He was ashy and looked ill, and Ursa wondered what kind of trouble they possibly could have found in the few short hours since he saw them at the last briefing. “What can I do for you?”

Andra shared a long look with Cygnus, no doubt sharing thoughts, before she nodded once.

“Cyg had a vision,” she said without preamble, and didn’t blink when Ursa muttered a curse. Precognition. It was so unreliable that he tried not to rely on it, but when it came, it could make a difference. “About the war. The ships we’re facing are scout ships. The real force hasn’t even made it here yet, but they’re coming.”

That warranted a stronger curse, and Ursa dropped into his chair as fear threatened to steal his reason.

“We’ve been fighting the vanguard?” he rasped through a throat that suddenly felt dry as desert sand. His head swam at the very thought. How could they possibly face a force greater than the one that already threatened to ruin them? What hope was there, if the great, sleek destroyers that were ripping apart whole planets were nothing but the frontrunners? “This whole time?”

(Not even that.) Ursa jumped, but there was no doubt of the ‘voice’ in his mind. Cygnus shrugged faintly, a little shamefaced behind his mop of dark curls. (Sorry. My voice is too shot for vocal speech. Can we show you what we saw? You should… you should know what we’re up against.)

There was very little that Ursa wanted less, but he nodded anyway. He had never been one to shy away from the unpleasant duties of his station, and that now included trying to save his race from obliteration. If this vision would help, he could do nothing more than try to use it to the fullest.

Of course, he also remembered the last two visions he saw Cygnus have, realized why the psion was speaking telepathically, and profoundly hoped that he would not scream himself raw.

“You won’t,” Andra said softly, and tried to offer a smile. It came out as more of a grimace, but Ursa appreciated the effort. “We’ll buffer you from the… the worst of it. You’ll ‘see’ the vision, but you won’t experience it like Cyg does.”

That did help, although Ursa still didn’t like the idea any.

Oh well.

“Once more into the breech,” he said with a half-shrug. “We need information. Will you be able to share this vision with the rest of our command?”

(If they’re willing. I won’t force it on anyone,) Cygnus assured him. He reached out, and Ursa noted with alarm that Cygnus’ fingers trembled slightly, barely noticeable, but distinctly there. (Take a deep breath in, and release it slowly.)

Before Ursa could do more than breathe, blackness, the dark of open space, engulphed him like falling backwards into shadowy water filled with stars.

(You’re safe.)

That was Andra. Ursa scrambled for his sense of self amid the whirling stars, disoriented and struggling, until bright, brassy-green glimmers appeared out of the darkness and wrapped around him. A moment later, they were followed by more, this time haloed in orange-yellow that somehow felt like amusement.

(Take a minute to get yourself together,) Cygnus, the orange-yellow glimmers, told him calmly. (We’re not going to let you ‘drown’. You’re in my mind. Specifically, on the leading edge of the vision-memory.)

(We didn’t realize how disorienting this would be for you,) Andra agreed, her green glimmers fading to apologetic blue. (It’s easy to forget that what we do isn’t normal for most people.)

(How do you function like this?!) Ursa said incredulously, and didn’t realize he had responded telepathically until the words came out as vivid orange alarm, shot through with pink ribbons of curiosity. (No, don’t explain it. I don’t want to know.)

He took a breath, now vaguely aware of his own body responding, somewhere far away, and braced himself. (I’m ready. Show me.)

(Remember, this is a memory of a vision,) Andra told him when the stars rippled, like the reflection of a night sky on glassy water, disturbed by a single jumping fish. (Nothing here can hurt you.)

Ursa wanted to ask what she meant, and then his eyes fell on the ships.

Thousands of them. Immense, towering vessels. The kind that were specially designed for deep space travel, but much, much bigger. Immense beyond understanding, until he realized that they were asteroids, and moons, and farther back, so far that it was almost lost in the black of space, a ship carved of what could only be a planet.

It wasn’t until his mind shuddered, and he looked closer, that he realized what he thought were little one-man fighters, hovering in swarms around the bigger ships, were actually the same titanic destroyers that were shredding apert his fleet without the slightest effort.

And there were millions of them.

Before he could do anything more than take a single, panicked breath, the stars rippled again and were gone all at once.

He made it to his waste basket just in time to lose everything in his stomach. Icy terror stole the strength from his legs and left him heaving into the little plastic container until he could barely breath and black spots danced around the edges of his vision.

Small hands steadied him and helped him sit back, supported by the wall. Andra offered him a tiny smile even as Cygnus poured a glass of water and knelt to press it into his hand.

(Now you see,) Cygnus told him as he drank, panicked again, and discovered more of the brassy-green glimmers in his mind, soothing away the terror. Andra gave him a tiny, comforting nod, and Ursa couldn’t find it in himself to be anything except grateful for her intervention. (I don’t know how much time we have, but some is more than none. We need to call all our forces together. Because they’re coming, and when they get here, we have to be ready.)

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Guiding Stars:

Andra was a mechanic and a pilot with nothing but an old, battered ship to call her own. Cygnus Volans is the most powerful psion to ever live. They were on opposite sides of a messy revolution, until a shared vision of the future brings their two warring sides together against a much greater threat.

Procyon Moon

Altair Chariot

Vega Dignity

Cappella Besieged

Canopus Emergent

Nihal Collision

Spica Interlude

Polaris Eclipsed

Sirius Empowered

Mizar Orbit (Free on Patreon)

Dabih Risen

Ankaa Igniting (Free on Patreon!)

Leporis Crush (Subscriber Only!)

Porrima Chain

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MORE STORIES!

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