Warning for Spoilers for Resident Evil Requiem!!!
Please proceed with caution.
“Are you working late again, Z?” A soft voice comes from the office door. Y/N, draped in a silk nightgown and a sheer robe. Her head leaning on the dark, elegantly stained wood of the doorframe. In the dark office, illuminated only by the blueish glow of a laptop, Zeno leaned against his interlocked hands, eyes squinted at the transcript he was reviewing. His glasses were discarded next to him–folded neatly as per usual. His eyes flit up to Y/N’s form and he let out a tired chuckle.
“Ah, Dove…” He purred softly, rising and beginning to pace by the bookshelves.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long. But… With everything I-” He cut himself off and turned to her like a cat zeroing in on its favourite toy.
“With everything we have worked towards, finally paying off, I’m finding it difficult to… Turn my mind off.” He strides before her and places his gloved hands on her hips with a reverence. Tilting his head, the dangling earring glints.
“You understand.”
Y/N just nods and places her hands on his.
“Of course I do. It’s an exciting time… Power, control, everything The Connection’s has been seeking to bolster… It will keep people safe, proceeding this way…” She murmurs and runs her thumbs over his knuckles. His eyes soften and he smiles down at her, leaning in and pecking her temple.
“That’s my girl.” He whispers into her hair.
“Everything will be fine, Z.” Y/N reassures him as he pulls back to glance at her again.
“You are organized, controlled, and calm. This is your life’s work. Nothing could go wrong.”
He laughs and squeezes her hip.
“Don’t say stuff like that, Dove… It tends to jinx things.” His tone is teasing, and yet domestic. Y/N just hums in response, not quite believing in the superstition.
Zeno steps back and draws close to the desk once more, balancing a hand on the mahogany surface.
“I won’t be too much longer. I promise.” The blond coos and pulls his gaze away to look at the laptop once more.
“I’ll be back in bed before you know it.” He murmurs and rounds the desk to settle into the high backed chair once more.
“Mmmm. I hope you’re back from this mission before I know it…” She says, leaning on the door frame once more.
“I will be.”
“In one piece?” Y/N prods playfully.
“In one piece.”
Fin.
~~~
So, obviously I'm shattered about what they did to my boy, Zeno... And while I will write my own little fanon about a happy life, where Z gets out and Leon lives and everyone is happy, hunky-dory, I must first begin with some angst... Heart hands. Love you all and I'll be back with more for our beautiful blond baby!!!!!!!!!
Also, I've been loving this song, hence the title... Sorry (not sorry)
Rating: Explicit || Word Count: 2.2k
Content Warnings: gn reader, biting, hair-pulling, rough treatment, incorporation of pain into bedroom activities, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, allusions to bleeding/injury, established relationship, unprotected sex
Masterlist || AO3 Link
beta reader: @juniper-sunny <3 <3 <3
This is heaven. It has to be. There are no touches quite so tender to be had in the real world. No breathless gasps are quite so endearing. No wandering hands are quite so curious as they reach for a gentle handful of your backside.
You pull away from the kiss, catching your breath from the passionate whirl you got lost in. Below, Silco is panting with you, his hands idly tugging against the curve of your waist. His eyes drop low to innocently observe the swell of your breasts and the blouse buttons that hide them.
“Eyes are up here,” you pant, and Silco meets your gaze with a crooked smile.
“May I ask you a question?” Despite the almost silly grin on his face, Silco seems rather serious about this. His jaw is set behind the subtle curve of his lips, and the line of his brow is hard with concern.
“Of course!”
“Do you like pain?”
Oh.
You look down at Silco, the same genuine concern etched into his face.
Not the kind of question I had in mind.
“I– um, do you like pain?” Your voice pitches up way too much when you ask that, and you know you look like a fool, but how else are you supposed to answer that question?
Silco shakes his head. “It’s not about me,” he says sternly, “do you like pain?”
“Well…” You don’t know how to answer without embarrassing yourself, not wanting to seem like a newbie in front of a more experienced partner.
You look away from Silco. “...I haven’t ever really tried that kind of stuff.”
You wait for a groan of disappointment, an annoyed sigh, some noise or otherwise pointed reaction that your partner is irked by your inexperience. That he must teach and tolerate you. None of that happens.
Silco’s gentle fingers take hold of your chin, bringing your face back to look at him, his usually intense orange eye now an ember. You feel warm looking at him, watching how he examines you so carefully.
“Would you like to try?” he asks, voice softer than the bedspread beneath you. Of course you had heard of people incorporating pain into their bedroom activities, but you had never thought of doing it yourself.
At your speechlessness, Silco offers a mild suggestion. “I can show you a little bit,” he whispers, “and if you like it, then we can take it further.”
You nod and Silco frowns.
“I will be rough and you will need to use your words if we’re going to do it this way,” he hums, eyes raking over the column of your throat with a quiet hunger that you wish he would act on.
“Yes, I would like that very much,” you say, seeming to nearly trip over your own tongue. Silco only grins before pulling you back to him, his lips meeting your own in a stumbling, unceremonious kiss. His tongue is demanding, licking insistently until you open your mouth enough for him to slip past and taste you.
Just when you get used to him roving inside your mouth, he moves. Teeth nip gently at your chin, tongue leaves a wet trail down your neck, and suddenly his lips are brushing against your skin. It’s a mere suggestion, quickly followed up as his mouth closes over the side of your throat. Fingers tangle into the hair at the base of your skull, tilting your head back to allow him more room as he sucks a flaming mark into your neck.
He pulls away to admire his work, eyeing you down the length of his nose as a finger trails around the sensitive flesh he sucked on.
It didn’t hurt at all, but it’s different, the way your skin tingles under the gentle caress of his fingers.
“I liked that,” you say, and only realize when the words come out that you’re completely breathless.
“Did you, now?” Silco muses, but before you can say another word his lips are on you again, teeth teasing a small bite on your lower lip.
Oh.
Silco’s fingers press into your thighs, reaching up for your hips and encouraging a slow grind against him. His teeth come down harder on your lip at the same time that his pelvis rolls up, a sinful combination of sensations that has you gasping into Silco’s mouth and throbbing at the apex of your thighs.
You feel him smirking into your skin and he trails down once more. His lips are an ember against your already hot skin, every kiss threatening to light you ablaze.
He passes by the hickey on your neck, his mouth soothing the tingling ache as he continues lower to your collarbone. Teeth nip at the skin there, his hands coming up to play at the buttons of your shirt.
It’s a question.
“Please,” you whisper, and Silco wastes no time ridding you of your shirt. His fingers are like lightning strikes upon your skin as your shirt slides down your shoulders, revealing the stiff peaks of your nipples.
Silco’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, a sultry precursor to the kisses and licks he peppers on the surface of your chest. Fingers tangle into his graying hair as a shiver runs through you, relishing the wet warmth that his mouth grants as his tongue slides hot over your nipple.
Teeth come down over your nub in a teasing bite, not very hard but enough to make you gasp. The fingers you have locked into Silco’s hair pull and he tightens his hold on you, hands framing your hips as he bites harder.
“Ah!” You cover your mouth at the sudden outburst and Silco’s teeth leave you only to flash a prideful smirk, like he knows the way he’s turned your core to molten lava by now.
“Let me hear what sounds you make, darling,” he hums, soothing the tingly marks of his teeth with a warm swipe of tongue. “If you won’t verbalize I’ll rely on you vocalizing instead.”
Talented fingers roll your bitten nipple as he takes the other between his chipped teeth and delivers the same treatment. By the time he pulls away from the second, you’re panting and sweaty as you look down at the rough indents his teeth left on you.
“Please, Silco,” you whine, fingers squeezing shoulders and neck as you urge him to fill you. “I want your cock, please.”
Silco chuckles, and it makes the neglected tension in your belly wind tighter. Your needy excitement can’t be contained as Silco kicks off his trousers and you work the buttons of his shirt, stripping both of you down until you’re naked as sin.
“Take it all,” Silco grunts, guiding your hips to hover over his cock. You sink down, taking it slowly but steadily. The girth of him still stretches you, despite how many times you’ve made love to him, and the overwhelming feeling of him has your thighs shaking.
Normally you’d pause. Normally you’d ease him out and back in. Normally you’d take your time, but this is not your normal get-down with Silco. Neither of you could be bothered to be patient, least of all you as your partner shows you this new face of intimacy.
The tops of his thighs brush against your ass, a gentle reminder that you’re almost there, just an inch or so to go. Throwing caution to the wind, you let yourself drop onto him, letting loose a loud moan at how prominently he sits inside of you. All of your weight pressing down on him, nestling the head of his cock deep inside. You can feel every throb, every twitch. Part of you swears the vein on the underside is pressing just perfectly against you, but it could be just your fuckdrunk imagination.
“I’ve never…” you gasp out, unable to finish your sentence for the feeling of Silco prodding so deeply.
“You’ve never been on top before?” Silco muses, grinning at your limp nodding. With a quick jerk of his hips, Silco sends his cock somehow deeper inside, and you can’t help the way you lurch forward. A string of mixed curses tumbles from your gaping mouth and more follow as Silco thrusts up into you over and over.
“Oh, my– hnnnfuckinghell, Sil.” You gasp at every movement he makes, breathless and aching for more, more, more.
“Gods you’re so tight,” Silco grits out, rutting up into you steadily now. “Can you feel me, darling?” His fingers threaten to bruise with how tightly he holds you, nails digging into the plush of your thighs.
Can I feel him?!
“Yes–Janna almighty–yes I feel it.” You choke out the words between gasps for air, as if the very pressure of him were nudging at your lungs. It might as well be with how breathless you are.
Silco moves harder and faster, the force of his cock sliding in and out becoming relentless. You feel the knot in your belly tightening already, that coil winding and winding with every shift of Silco’s hips. He must feel it, letting out quick grunts and hisses at your tightening hold on him.
Just when you think you’ll be able to cum, Silco pulls out and you whine pathetically at the loss, your walls clenching around nothing as you try to pull him back.
“Turn around for me,” Silco rasps, his hands on your hips guiding you to all fours. He’s behind you now and you have a lovely view of the headboard, but then his cock is pushing into you again and filling you in one relentless thrust, sending you tumbling into the pillows below you.
“Oh, gods!”
Immediately, Silco's fingers tangle into your hair and yank, pulling you up out of the pillow where there's now a wet spot. Spit dribbles out of your mouth as Silco holds you up by your hair, fucking you mindless from behind. Each sharp thrust threatens to be too much, to hurt too badly, to make you cry, but it just barely toes the line. There’s a perfect, measured balance to everything he does to you, and that’s what’s about to send you over the edge.
“Are you going to cum, sweetheart?” Silco asks, grunting out words between each breath of air. You can barely nod with the way he’s holding your head up, but he must get the message because he laughs at you.
“I know it, you’re so tight around me.” He leans forward, leaving a sloppy, wet kiss on your shoulder as he does. “I knew you would like this, getting off just from me biting you, marking you, treating you like an animal.” You whimper, the coil in your belly pulling tauter than ever as Silco grunts filth into your ear, threatening to make you cum.
“Cum on my cock,” he pants, “cum and I’ll give you what you need, I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking onto the sheets.” His mouth at your shoulder closes around your skin and he bites, the hot flare of pain proving to be the last thing you need to come undone around him.
A hard shiver wracks your body, threatening to paralyze you as Silco fucks you hard through your orgasm, dirty verses upon his tongue that you can’t even hear. You’re too lost in the rapture that he’s brought you to, tears streaming down your cheeks as he holds you by the hair.
“Beautiful little thing you are,” Silco grunts, dropping your hair to grab your hips with both hands, pulling you into his every thrust until your name punches from his chest in a harsh groan, and his teeth come down on your shoulder again.
Where he would normally press deep through his orgasm or rest against you with a low moan, his hips are rocking hard against your backside and he bites through his pleasure. His teeth light your skin on fire, stinging and burning and making your eyes roll back as his cock pulses within you.
When he finally releases you, softening against your walls, the pull of his teeth against your skin aches horribly. You haven’t the energy to complain about it though, as you collapse forward into the pillows below.
“Are you okay?” Silco asks, falling onto the bed next to you. His arms wrap around you, a warmth that comforts you even in the sticky, sweaty state of both your bodies.
“Yeah, just sore.”
Silco hums in acknowledgement, the sharp line of his nose pressed against your temple. “You did so well, I’m so proud of you.”
You try to say something back, but you’re not sure what, and it doesn’t sound out very well at all. Silco only shushes you, pulling you closer.
“Just take a moment, let’s lie here for a little bit.” His voice slowly winds down to a low whisper. “When you’re feeling better we’ll get that wound cleaned up.”
“Make no mistake,” you mumble, “I feel great right now.”
Silco entertains you with a light chuckle, hands carding through your hair and scratching gently at your sore scalp. “Happy to hear that, now get some rest.”
Ugh, I haven't written in a minute, but I kinda want to write brat-tamer!corbeau. Jumping off the building & intentionally pissing him off in that quest was *chefs kiss*.
He wouldn't even wait for things to settle down after everything that happened. No. You'd be in his office that same night, getting disciplined & subsequently railed multiple times.
Because how dare you make a fool out of him, in front of his men no less. You didn't slip off the roof, no, he watched your bratty ass jump down THREE times. Simply because annoying him was funny.
Yeah well, you're paying for it now. He may be a short king, but he packs one hell of a punch (er, slap) when it comes to spanking. He's not one to hold back when it comes to putting his brat in their place.
megumi could catch a glimpse of you in each and every reflection, and not just the ones he casted upon cold stretches of water or in pieces of glass laying across asphalt – and that if you looked closely, were smeared in blood – but also in patches of light scattered like a mosaic, the mosaic of your face, and he would hate them the most, because he was slowly forgetting how to assemble the jigsaw.
in his memory, you were made of single puzzle pieces of whom he could not find the right interlock. he could still remember the exact number of your moles, but not where they dotted your skin as marbles dispersed on dry sand. the smell of your hair still lingered in his memory, but not the hidden nuances that revealed themselves only when sunlight reflected on it. and some pieces were missing altogether. for instance, he never would have believed that, someday, he would have been unable to recall the sound that your laugh made when it echoed in hollow spaces; strangely, the peculiar sighs you made when you could not inhale deeply was engraved in his brain, and it came flooding back when he caught himself doing the same.
you lived in the gestures he had observed for years and that he unconsciously made his own. the idioms that you used to say, which he adopted and naturally found their way in his discourses. the facial expressions you used to make that he mirrored, and he would pretend to be annoyed when someone pointed it out.
he grew accustomed to the dark. reflections waning as the sun sat and a new piece missing by the time it rose again. he knew the pillow would not smell like you anymore the following day. that the clothes you left on the floor lacked the warmth your body once gave them. your plants did not die, only because he watered them just to try and catch that glimpse of you doing the same.
and megumi knew that trying to grasp them would be useless. he had to come to terms with the fact that, slowly but surely, your reflection was going to slip through his fingers entirely. the puzzle was never meant to be solved. all that was going to remain was megumi, a mosaic of the people he once loved.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
[Credits to the wonderful @fandommisc for the wonderful for this beautiful drawing of the dance scene in this story. I dedicate this story to you, my friend <3]
Summary:
During a party at the palace of Domino, the sorcerer Valtor casts a horrible curse that leads to the partial destruction of Domino and the disappearance of its royal family.
Ten years later, the youngest daughter reappears as Varanda, a young woman with no memories and a single clue into her past: a pendant with the words “Together in Magix” engraved on it. With the help of three eccentric sisters calling themselves the Trix, she sets off to Magix in the hope that she will find whoever had given her the pendant and, with it, a home where she can belong to at last.
more below the cut like socials, tone tags I use, photos of me, navigational tags etcetc
Other socials/blogs
Spotify
Spacehey
Youtube
Pronouns page
Letterboxd
Archive of our own
@liliths-music-archives
@liliths-writing-archives
(dm for TikTok, discord, and insta)
Tag key:
#lilith yaps || og posts or posts i yap in
#lilith needs professional help || vents, might be triggering so you can block this tag if you dont want to see that (TW: SH ED SUI)
#liliths answered asks || my asks
#violently making out with my moots || interacting w my moots
#lilith can art? || art and such
#lilith writes || my writing/poetry (might also be under the vent tag)
#lilith is a music nerd || music stuff
#lilith poses || any posts with photos of me in them (or pertaining to me ig?)
#lilith watches || posts made about films I'm watching or have watched
tags for ppl (I will without a doubt forget to tag these):
#lilichy || interactions with @crunchyaps
#roller coaster enjoyer || interactions with @frogz-r-gay
Other stuff
Photos of me :3
Dms open<3 (cant promise a response if ur a creep)
Taken anon emojis: 🌼 🌲 👻 📺
pls send asks :)
I don’t do tag games, you can still tag me tho, I understand the pain of only having like two people to tag 😭 just know that I won’t do it
No written DNI bc I just block freely :3
Some things I've done a lot of research on:
Francisco de goya
Francis bacon
Adrianne lenker
Jeff buckley
Film/Movies
idk
He clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, the picture of earned arrogance. An image he had earned in his younger years; A time when his hair wasn’t flecked with locks of salt-and-pepper, and any sweeping motions were taken at a quicker pace.
“I still got it, Sugar.” He attempts to mask his wounded pride with a sharp jut of his jaw and slow blink. Y/N just chuckled and patted his shoulder carefully.
“Sure ya do…” She mused with a roll of her eyes.
“Heatin’ pad ’s in the back office, on the first aid kit. Go get yerself started, I gotta clean up here, an’ I’ll be back to help in a sec.” Y/N ordered and patted him off.
Now (mostly) recovered, Leon lazily strolls off behind the bartop and behind the wall separating the main floor from the office and storage space. Using a little silver key with a heart scratched in the bow of the key, he unlocks the office door that reads “Authorized Personnel Only” and shoves it open enough for his aching form to slink in, in order to lick his wounds in private.
By the time the door opens again, Leon’s flannel is draped over the back of one of the two office chairs, his knuckles are wrapped and he’s sprawled out, thighs open wide. He sandwiches the heading pad between his tense body and the pleather of the chair–his chair.
Leon opens one, weary blue eye. The light from the hallway makes it hard to adjust, but he knows who it is. With a crooked smirk, he pats his thigh.
“C’mere, Sugar.” He croons, voice gravely and sweet. Y/N just stands with her arms crossed and her hip jutted out to the side. With a scoff, she shakes her head and meanders closer, kicking the door shut behind her.
“Y’smell like a bar mat.” The woman complains in a hushed tone. He just flashes her a smile that is pulled crooked on his lips. His teeth are straight as headstones and pure white. Mirth dances in his eyes as he tilts his head up to face her advancing figure.
“I smell like fuckin’ victory.” He reaches out, placing his bandaged palms on her hips. Through the gause-dressed hands, through the denim of her jeans, Y/N can feel the heat of his hands-And fuck, if that doesn’t make her pulse spike…
Y/N lets out a deep sigh, as if she’s disappointed, but Leon knows better–He knows his girl better.
“You’re such a damn handful,” she mutters, eyes dragging slowly across the stretch of his thighs, the expanse of his abs, the sharp ‘v’ of his hips.
“Startin’ fights you knowin’ it’ll end with you limpin’.”
Leon grins, tilting his head just enough to watch her pace closer. “Didn’t hear you complainin’ when I put that little shit on the floor.”
“You threw your back out again, Leon.”
“And yet—” he drags the word out low and slow, voice rough like sandpaper and honey, “—I still managed to win.” He pats his thigh again, more insistently. “Now, get over here. You said you were gonna help me.”
Y/N sighs and shakes her head, arms still crossed.
“Said I would help. Not make it worse. I ain’t ridin’ you, cowboy.” She rebuffed. His lips draw into a pout, like that of a petulant child; But the expression doesn’t last long, shifting to something more shit-eating and pleased as she sinks to her knees between his thighs. Leon groans low in his throat, his hands gripping both sides of her jaw like he’s been aching for this all day—like the pain doesn’t matter anymore.
“Help me forget how fuckin’ old I feel,” he mutters into the air, his voice airy and pleading but still rough and worn.
“Make me feel like I used to, Sugar. Please, I am beggin’ ya!”
The clink of Leon’s belt unfastening echoes in the cramped office like a starting bell. He hisses through his teeth—not from pain this time, but anticipation—watching her every move like a man possessed. Y/N works efficiently, dragging the zipper down and pulling his work jeans to his knees with care.
“Goddamn, darlin’…” he breathes, his drawl deeper now, sticky with want. Y/N smirks but doesn’t answer. Instead, she palms him through his briefs—testing, teasing. He twitches in her hand, hips bucking just a little, and his head drops back against the chair with a dull thud.
“Still cocky for a man who’s groanin’ like he’s pushin’ eighty,” she teases, voice low and warm. Leon chuckles breathlessly.
“Ain’t the years, Sugar… It's the mileage.” She rolls her eyes at the remark, but her hands don’t stop. She’s quick to tug his underwear down just far enough to free his searing, leaky-with-precum, cock. He’s already half-hard, the rosy flush creeping up his shaft like its been waiting for her touch all night.
She leans in, lips brushing the swollen, red head of his cock.
“You sure you don’t want the heatin’ pad instead?” Leon groans, low and pleading.
“Christ, woman, if you don’t put that mouth on me, I will die right here in this goddamn chair.”
“Well then,” she murmurs, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock, “guess I better do my civic duty.”
The first stroke of her tongue has him swearing like a sailor. One bandaged hand flies to the back of her head, the other gripping the arm of the chair like it’s all that’s tethering him to the earth.
Y/N takes her time, slow and steady, dragging her mouth over him like she’s mapping out every ridge, every vein, every twitch he gives her. Leon’s hips flex involuntarily, a choked sound escaping his throat. “Fuck—Sugar…!”
She hums around him, sending vibrations up his spine. He’s panting now, his body taut with tension, hips lifting with every stroke of her mouth, his voice wrecked and desperate.
Breathy, wanton gasps and shuddering, broken cries leave his lips as he stares down at her with half lidded eyes–eyes that were once a beautiful cerulean, now black with lust-blown pupils. Leon sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and thrashes.
Leon lets out a shaky breath. “You’re killin’ me, darlin’. I’m a patient man, but…”
“You ain’t been patient since you threw the first punch tonight,” Y/N shoots back with a smirk, but her voice has dropped, smoky and thick with arousal. Her hands curl around his thighs for leverage, thumbs stroking the creases where his hips meet muscle. “Now hush.”
He does.
She leans in, mouth soft and wet as she runs her tongue along the underside of him—slow, savoring the way his thighs tense under her hands, the way his breath stutters out like a prayer. He tastes like salt and skin and musk, the barest bite of whiskey still lingering in his pores.
His head falls back against the chair again, the tension in his back forgotten as every nerve in him centers on her mouth, her hands, her tongue. His hips roll with shallow need, and he mutters, “Goddamn, you’re good at that,” like it’s a confession.
“What, y’ain’t gonna last much longer?” She snickers and lets his heavy, engorged cock settle against her open lips as she drags her tongue up and down his shaft. He glances down at her, eyebrows pinched and pink lips parted. Y/N chuckles as he shakes his head wordlessly. With a renewed fervor, she closes her lips around his throbbing erection. Her cheeks hollow, tongue curls and caresses, and lips constrict as she bobs her head.
It’s so much—too much, even; the wet heat of her lips, the glide of her tongue, the burn behind his eyes as his spine tries to curl up with the need to cum. Leon’s fists clench in her hair as he pants raggedly, words starting to slur and crumble while the world spins.
“Shit, Sugar, I’m not gonna—” He doesn’t get to finish. Y/N moans around him, and the vibration wrecks him. He cums with a strangled sound, hips jerking despite himself, thrusting the head of his cock down her throat. Her nose is crammed into his pelvis, unintentionally pushing her to inhale the scent of him; Salt, musk, whisky–and something ultimately Leon.
Y/N pulls off his softening cock and touches the pads of her fingertips to her lips as she swallows the remnants of his hot, sticky seed. A giggle leaves her when she’s determined it safe.
“You’re not as good as you once were,” she teases, referencing the Toby Keith song playing through the walls of the bar, hall, and office.
“But I’m as good once,” Leon pants, “as I ever was.” He closes his eyes and runs a trembling hand over her hair, posture boneless in the plush seat.
Outside, the bar’s quieter. The world shrinks down to the heat between them, the cozy atmosphere of the office, and the scent of sweat and leather and musk.
“Told you I still got it, darlin’.” Y/N just hums noncommittally and settles against his chest, kissing his cheek and nuzzling her cheek against his collarbone.
After a few beats of silence, he opens one blue eye once more. As he does so, his cock kicks up.
“... Sure y’won’t ride me?” He asks coyly. Y/N gives him a look of disbelief and barks out a laugh as she shakes her head.
“Ya can’t be serious! Leon, you are not winnin’ that fight!”
“I won that fight out there!” The dirty blond protests.
*deep inhale* Ok yall, Let's get to the lore of the wanderlust universe!
**note** This is not a hard sci-fi, and I won't pretend it is. If something is so egregiously wrong that its making you go insane, you may politely inform me, and I shall do my best to fix it.
The Universe:
We start off on a distant world, known lovingly to its inhabitants as "Catszama".
Due to its unstable and volatile weather and climate changes, the species that evolve there tend to have a common trait: the incredible ability to evolve on the spot.
Now, we aren't talking Pokémon, I promise. This ability manifested in the people who called this planet home (the Exovi) like a second puberty, if you will.
Their evolution from child to adult takes place in a chrysalis, much like a butterfly's. The secondary event isn't tied to the primary event at all. It can take place before puberty, after, or even never. What it IS tied to is a similar sense that birds have for weather, but on a much larger scale. Their bodies can sense when a shift is coming, and as it arrives, they pull a butterfly and become soup.
This allows their very DNA to reconstruct itself in accordance to the environment on the outside of the cocoon. When they emerge they are much more likely to survive. (This means they are also RIDICULOUSLY susceptible to cancer) :(
Because of this, The Exovi became very adapted to space travel, and eventually made points of communication, and occasionally trade, between two other planets with sentient species, on either solar system from them. This formed the Ivaswi So Banitu, or, Unity of Exploration.
Their nearest neighbor, known to them as Detra, (but to the people as Idune, the name Detra will come up later)
Idune was a desert world, on the surface. It's slow rotation allowed for days over two earth years long, and at the peak of its day, its star, Nas, blasted the sand into glass, transforming its surface into a sea of glass.
Dispite it's volatile and deadly surface during the day, its night actually supports life. Life originally evolved beneath the surface of the world, in a vast and complex system of massive caves. Some plant life eventually evolved in cave entrances, and then made its way into the night. It was followed by small mammals, and their predators. Currently the night side of the planet hosts less then a hundred species of animals, all highly migratory. This includes a large herd species, known as Ic'gratu. They are about the size of small elephants, converted in coarse black or brown hair, with large horns and pig like snouts. Their predators, called Riad va'en, or, Dune Hunters, are slick black beasts like the mix between a scorpion and a massive panther.
The cave system hosts a much more beautiful and diverse ecosystem, including the hardy Idunians.
(Little fun fact. My friend and I were makibg various worlds around the same time, and happened to make complimentary races! The Idunians are the result of his lore, so this is his picrew and race.^^^This is his character, Zuri)
These humanoids celebrate a culture of music and the conquering of their own rough world. It is common practice to emerge from the cave system and hunt the Riad va'en, right up until they started exploring with space communications.
Their other newly minted partner, was V’etchetsvoli.
This much, much larger superearth is home to its people, the Ambwi. Often above seven feet tall, the Abwi lack their own immune systems.
This results in one of their most distinctive features, other than their height and bright coloration.
Mushrooms! Colorful fungal growths sprout from crevices in their bodies. (that used to be vestigial gills!) The spores flow throughout their veins, poisoning external bodies and securing when coming into contact with the air through wounds. (This means they are very susceptible to blockages, blood clots, and heart attacks.)
Once an individual has perished, the fungi will slowly absorb the body, growing larger and larger until it forms a massive tree-like plant. These are absolutely sacred to the ambwi, and while generally a peace loving people, harming one is an act of war. They generally have a open court in the center of their houses in which a 'graveyard' of sorts allows the passed family member to live on with the family.
The Story:
A few decades after the UE was established, the Exovic scientists began to recieve very worrying data. Catszama was set to experience a massive change, one that could spell the end of the Exovi. It was too extreme for their systems to handle, and to the terror of the scientists, only about 4% of their race could handle it, leaving the planet nearly deserted, and billions dead.
They searched for an answer to save their people, but experiment after experiment failed, from domed cities, to satellites. They just couldn't beat nature.
So they turned their effort to one last hope, the UoE. They sent diplomats to Idune and V’etchetsvoli, pleading with them to adopt a portion of their race, to save them from extinction.
With the evolutionary powers, and the technology they had developed, they could redesign their next generations to live comfortably on each world, and those that had already changed could live in designed habitats.
To their eternal relief, the respective races agreed, and they began to build massive transport ships, to carry their people to a new world.
Though a few stayed behind, either too afraid, too attached, or too distrusting to come, the majority made it safe to V’etchetsvoli.
Idune was another story all together, and the Exovi were once again struck by immeasurable tragedy.
Of the sixteen ships that were sent, five survived. They approached cautiously, hanging back from the intense sun by hiding in the planet's shadow. Due to a miscalculation, they drifted into the light, and the engines over heated. Eight ships burned up, falling into the atmosphere. Three more landed in the night, but they were attacked and killed by Dunehunters. Two landed near the dawn, far enough into the light that the Dunehunters would not venture near, and close enough to the night that they would not be vaporized by the sun.
The other two landed in the dusk, with a similar story. These two became the roots for two peoples, the Taedomi, and the Edomi. The Idunians searched for them, but after finding the twisted ruins, they believed there was no saving them, and mourned.
The Edomi had none of the technology they once possessed, and after a few generations, what was science and fact turned into opinion, legend, and myth. They became a nomadic people, full of rich mythology and highly spiritual.
The taedomi still possessed some of the technology and was able to retain their purpose, and scientific knowledge. As a result, they found the Idunians first.
Avoneen, the daughter of the Edomi leaders, and Cyrad, her betrothed eventually found the Idunians, and are celebrated historical figures to this day.
After the reunion of peoples, they reconnected with their sisters on V’etchetsvoli. They lived in harmony until the fire nation attacked until they began to seek more. Adventurers found they were still called to the stars, just like their ancestors on Catszama, and they loaded ships, built them bigger, faster, and with more endurance.
They spread out, discovering more worlds, inhabiting the ones with life, but no intelligent peoples. They had yet to find any, until they came across a planet, a little rocky world about the size of mars called Ansta.
It was the home of the Sol-li, a Cybertronic race, and refuges from the planet Noska.
They were created by the Noskans, long ago, as simple AI's. After evolving into their own race, capable of real thought and reproduction. They had warred with the Noskans, eventually taking flight to find their own world.
The Exovi traveled with a portion of Sol-li to Noska, imploring the Noskan people ro reconsider. When they refused, hostility quickly bloomed, and The Exovi were banned from Noska. That ban still stands as of Wanderlust. It's what Ambassador Sotr had spent his whole life trying to change.
The three races over came much of their hostility in the following centuries, and both the Noskans, and the Sol-li joined the UoE.
After Noska and Ansta, they simply explored for decades. They colonized moons and planets, terraforming them, introducing them to the UoE.
They believed that was all. Every last pearl of civilization the universe had created.
That was until they found Oron.
Its people, even taller and sturdier than the Ambwi were much less developed then most of the races in the UoE. They were very, very far out of the way, the last inhabited planet on the outskirts of the UoE. In the end, they did not pay much attention to the Oroni, but perhaps they should have. They were, after all, the ones to find the final members of the UoE, not the Exovi.
Humanity. Terrans. Further than any other world, lost in a sea of stars.
The Oroni found them first. Inspired by the Exovi, but without their evolutionary powers, they created ships, operated by ai, to explore. To find worlds with life. And they found one. However, they did not account for inteligence. They thought they were the last, they were alone in their outskirts of the neighborhood.
So their bots gathered a sample of the most prolific creatures, bringing them back to Oron. It was not until later it was discovered they had accidentally kidnapped a group of sentient people's. When the Exovi caught wind of this they were horrified, and transported the Terrans back to Earth. A deal was struck for forgiveness, and eventually (after a couple of decades and some EXTREMELY suspicious humans) Exovi came to live on earth as well.
Several years pass, before they build a ship of with the best of both technologies, to introduce humanity to the UoE. So they send the Intrepid.
