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little-mad · 3 years

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“Tiny ears! Remember?!” With Tara and Thomas!

Ok, I really liked writing this one

From this list of prompts here

And for anyone who doesn’t know, more details about these two can be found on my oc masterlist

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After knowing one another for two months, Tara finally agreed to cross into giant territory for her meetings with Thomas. Admittedly, it was kind of awkward standing on opposite sides of the creek. More importantly, being out in the open like that, they ran the risk of getting seen by somebody. Tara definitely did not want to have to explain why she was hanging out with a giant to her family and friends back home.

The spot she and Thomas had decided on wasn’t far into giant territory, in fact Tara could still catch a glimpse of the border through the trees. Meanwhile, Thomas was about as concealed as his giant form would allow in an area with trees shorter than him.

Of course, Tara never would have agreed to the arrangement had she not been confident Thomas harbored no ill will towards her. The guy had saved her life twice, and after getting to know him better and better over time, she could almost call him a friend.

That being said, Tara had been sure to set up clear ground rules. Most important of the rules was that Thomas had to keep his hands to himself unless given express permission otherwise. The giant had pouted extensively about it. He obviously got a kick out of holding and touching her, which was exactly why Tara had forbidden it. Plus, being around hands that could easily snuff out her life made her more than a little anxious, believe it or not.

In order to avoid physical contact while still managing to remain close to Thomas’s eye level, Tara had positioned herself in a high branch of a tree directly in front of where the giant was sitting. Thomas had been fretting like a mother hen as she climbed up, insisting it was too dangerous for someone “so itty bitty.” The comment only served to make Tara climb quicker. She’d been scaling trees since she was little, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Wait, but I thought you said you wanted to study at that university?” Tara inquired as she absentmindedly swayed her dangling legs back and forth.

During their last meeting, Thomas had explained to her his desire to attend some fancy school in a giant city a ways away. They had something sort of similar on the human side of the border, but it was incredibly far away and was very selective with who they allowed as students. No one in Tara’s town ever even considered it as a feasible option.

Thomas gave a humorless laugh. “Well of course I want to, both Lane and I have dreamed of going there for years,” he explained. “But it costs an arm and a leg to even be allowed to study there, not to mention room and board, food, supply costs...we’d never be able to afford it.” He let out a resigned sigh.

A frown formed on Tara’s face. She couldn’t necessarily empathize with Thomas’s situation exactly, but the feeling of being trapped by forces out of her own control was familiar enough after encountering giants. “So what are you going to do then?” she asked. The First Hunt had marked Thomas’s transition from child to adult, meaning he could no longer rely on his parents and needed to seek out a way to make a living.

“I’ll probably start helping out at my uncle’s shop, at least for now,” Thomas said with a shrug. He didn’t look especially pleased with the plan, but before Tara could call him out on it, he spoke up again. “What about you? Are you going to keep gathering supplies for your doctor?” he questioned.

Since even before she had finished school, Tara had been assisting the town’s physician by foraging for medicinal supplies that could be found in nature. At first it had mostly been freelance, but within the past month she had begun receiving a regular wage from the doctor. Tara enjoyed the unrestrictive nature of the work, plus the pay wasn’t half bad either. That being said, she couldn’t see herself doing it for the rest of her life.

“Well actually…” Tara started, “I’ve been thinking I might want to join one of the scouting parties.” The job was mentally and physically demanding, but scouts were well paid and well respected. Plus, after almost being eaten on two separate occasions, Tara felt as though non-giant related dangers were pretty manageable.

“Are you crazy?!” Tara winced at the unexpected volume of Thomas’s voice, her hands instinctively going to cover her ears against the thundering noise.

When her ears stopped ringing, she lowered her hands and shot a scowl up at the giant’s face. “Hey!” she shouted, “Tiny ears! Remember?!” Despite his natural enthusiasm, Thomas was usually pretty good at keeping his voice at a volume that was comfortable to Tara. Over time, his accidental loud outbursts had decreased in frequency. Whatever streak he’d had was now soundly broken of course.

Thomas’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done. “Sorry, sorry!” he exclaimed in an overly hushed tone. His cheeks became tinged with a slight red color and he wore a regretful expression on his face as he looked down at Tara. “I just--I can’t believe you would actually consider doing something so needlessly risky.” When he finished the sentence he began to take on the appearance of a stern father or something.

Tara pressed her lips together. She wasn’t really sure why Thomas seemed so worked up over the idea of her joining a scouting party. In the past, she had described what the scouts did and why they were so important to the wellbeing of her town. She’d mentioned the fact that, aside from ensuring no giants ever crossed into human territory, scouts were also responsible for fending off vicious wild animals, as well as occasionally dealing with bandits that sometimes hung around the woods surrounding the town. Sure, it was probably one of the more dangerous jobs Tara could do, but it wasn’t as if it were a death sentence. It was rare that a scout was ever killed in the line of duty.

“It’s not ‘needlessly risky’, Thomas,” she insisted. “Scouts are vital to the safety of my town. Plus, it’s not as dangerous as you seem to be imagining it to be.”

“The world is a dangerous place, and you’re so small--” Thomas started, but Tara was quick to interrupt him with a raised hand.

“Okay--just because I’m small to you, doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself just fine.”

“But why risk it when you don’t have to?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to live my life in a bubble.” It was becoming increasingly clear to her that while Thomas may view her as a person in some respects, he still thought of her as some kind of weak creature in need of protection. Considering he’d had to save her life on multiple occasions, Tara supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him. But that had been when she’d been in giant territory. Things were different on her side of the border.

At first, Thomas opened his mouth as if he were about to shoot back a retort. However, after a moment’s pause, his expression softened slightly. “I’m--I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

Tara sighed. It was hard to stay too mad at the guy when he sounded so genuine. He seemed to really care about her wellbeing, even if he was being a bit overbearing about it. She allowed her tensed shoulders to relax. “I appreciate your concern,” she began, making sure to choose her words carefully. “But I promise, I’ll be fine.” Tara offered Thomas her most sincere smile. “Besides, I don’t even know for sure if I am actually going to join a scouting party. It’s just a possibility.”

With slow, controlled movements, Thomas leant forward so that his face was hanging about a foot above where Tara sat. She stiffened when one of his hands gently settled down beside her on the branch, close but not quite making contact with her body. “You don’t know how much I wish I could touch you right now,” he stated, a petulant look on his face.

With her cheeks flushing pink, Tara attempted to disguise it by fixing an unperturbed expression on her face. “You--you can keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Grabby,” she declared stubbornly.

Even if she trusted Thomas not to hurt her, willingly allowing a giant to touch her felt like crossing some line. Of course, she’d already crossed all kinds of lines just by agreeing to meet with him in the first place. Maybe Tara wasn’t completely opposed to letting him touch her--but only for practical purposes! Allowing him to fiddle with her now was certainly not practical.

Thomas gave Tara a pouty face, but when she remained resolute, he released a dramatic sigh before pulling away. “You’re killing me here.”

Tara snorted as she shook her head. “You are such a drama queen.”

#g/t prompt #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: Tara #oc: Thomas #vore mention

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thehouseofvs · 3 years

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[RP Journal - 1/20/2021] Valeria Camena: Gifts, Truths, and Consequences

I suppose this is going to become a thing now, isn’t it? The idea of keeping a journal like this still seems rather silly to me, but perhaps my thoughts will change as I continue writing. That said, I guess I should provide an update since my last entry. That’s how these work, right? After Rae-Hann and I boarded our flight out of Kugane, the trip went by relatively quick. At least, quicker than it would have, if we had decided to depart by ship as originally suggested. Though, perhaps that might have been the better option, given how anxious the airship flight seemed to make Rae. It’s actually rather amusing; I thought nothing seemed to phase the Mystel, but heights appear to have accomplished the impossible. Thankfully, we were able to take a small break with a brief lay-over in Limsa Lominsa. At least, enough for Rae to be at bit more at ease before we took off again for Ul’dah. The journey was uneventful, honestly - but we spent the time with brief discussions, moments of quiet, whatever Rae-Hann seemingly wanted to indulge in...not that I minded, honestly. He has been through a lot lately, so I did not want to bother him too much. With our arrival in Ul’dah, we temporarily stopped by the Quicksands to purchase a couple of rooms for the night...though, frankly, neither of us wanted to stay for long. Rae-Hann had to go and take care of the business he had originally come to the city to do, and I...well. The Quicksands is a rather filthy place - by far the dirtiest hub I’ve seen in Eorzea. I do not know how Mistress Momodi stands it. No, I preferred to be on my way.

And what was my business in Ul’dah? Well, certainly nothing like Rae-Hann’s. I decided to stop by the Goldsmith’s Guild, to see if I could have a piece of jewelry prepared. Back during Starlight, Rae-Hann had gifted me a crystal infused with his own aether; a source of color that was separate from himself. It is such a beautiful magenta hue...

To my pleasant surprise, the artisans at the Guild were very helpful - albeit for a price. Fair is fair, I suppose. I wanted a swift job, and they wanted swift coin. That’s the nature of things. One of the goldsmiths presented me a necklace design that would suit the crystal, and after approving and paying, all I had left to do was wait. With that business taken care of, I also took the chance to contact my handler, Rikotsu. He was one of the first people I met after fleeing Garlemald, and while I wouldn’t exactly call him a ‘friend’, he has been a reliable contact of mine who had helped me get started as a mercenary. He had been kind enough to watch over Anemo while I was away in the East - I informed him of my return to Eorzea, and that I would swing by to collect Anemo after some initial business. To my utter lack of surprise, Anemo was a good boy...a happy griffin indeed. Other than that, the two days that I had to wait until Rae-Hann was finished with his task were...uneventful, to say the least. I tried to spend a little time in the Quicksands’ bar area, but after the fifth lewd gentleman...and gentlewoman...caller, I decided to leave. The rest of the time was a blur, as I took the time to explore the city. Despite coming here many times, I’d never attempted to really look at Ul’dah. It has quite the beauty of it’s own, though I did find myself wondering how different it’d look if it were any other shade than gray...

At the end of the second day, I had gone to collect my necklace from the Goldsmith’s Guild - and conveniently ran into Rae-Hann on my way out with my new prize. He seemed pleased with the new look to the crystal, so I was happy that the both of us could appreciate it. When I looked him over a bit, he did not seem to have changed, or be hurt, or anything like that. Honestly, I do not know what I was expecting, exactly. Only that when we spoke in Shirogane, he said he might be ‘different’. Whatever it was, he wasn’t willing to share until we were beyond the city’s walls. Which was fair enough, given the nature of his...dealings. So we agreed to head further in-land, towards Drybone in Eastern Thanalan. And, of course, we teleported...Mother, I despite the aetheryte system. Always leaves me feeling queasy. And Rae-Hann knows that, too, and takes pleasure in my discomfort as a tease. Well, we’ll see how much he’s laughing when he’s forced to fly on Anemo’s back...

When we arrived in Drybone, the first thing we agreed to do was find a spot where we could talk without being interrupted, so we settled on the local tavern. Most of the folks here tend to mind their own business, due to the number of travelers that pass through. So we went inside, found a place to sit, and Rae began his retelling of the last couple of days’ events. And of course, as he typically does, Rae-Hann started by dropping a shrapnel charge; apparently, Siannault had come to visit him last night, but he was not certain if it was real, or some sort of vivid hallucination brought on by consuming Una’to’s blood. Needless to say, all that strung together gave me considerable worry, but I allowed him to continue his tale. Thankfully, he explained that beyond a decent dosage of Void-tainted aether, he had not undergone any other changes to his being. And when I examined him, he was right...mostly. The aether certainly did not appear to be reacting negatively to his own, but the once-vibrant magenta that I knew to be his own aether had become murky with that ill, sickly purple hue that I knew all too well. For him to willingly do this to himself...it hurt, thinking what would bring him to take such lengths. So I asked why.

According to Rae, recent events had made him reconsider his position in the world. He did not see himself as normal, like the other people in his life, so in some strange logic, he thought that by consuming the rest of Una’to’s offered blood, he’d change in a way that would make people recognize his differences from them. And he mentioned a name, ‘Skadi’. A necromancer...the one that had his soul. In his usual fashion, he tried to deflect from the conversation by having us go and see what jobs lay in store for us here in Drybone. But I wasn’t having it. I wanted him to talk to me, to open up...and I wanted to know more about this Skadi. Yet another damned monster who took advantage of a man through his suffering, and knowing that Rae-Hann was a victim of it made my blood practically boil. In the past, Rae had tried to convince me that not all Void-related entities were ‘evil’, but if this is what his associates were prone to do...well, maybe I’d have to make a visits when our journey has concluded. At the very least, the intervention of several parties over the last few days had apparently inspired Rae-Hann with the will and desire to live - to prolong his existence, and avoid the inevitable prison that waited for him after his death. We discussed of ways to prevent that from happening, but beyond convincing Skadi of revoking the contract, or simply killing her, our options were limited - not to mention we would have to wait until she contacted him again, anyway. I hate necromancers.

We didn’t have much more to talk about after that, so we decided to take out our mutual frustrations on some of the local creatures in Thanalan. Fortunately for us, the locals here had a never-ending list of problems - and we ultimately settled on clipping a few imps of their wings, and clubbing a few of the walking dead near the Invisible City. With our destination in mind, we had set out. But, of course, things couldn’t be as simple as that. It never is. When Rae-Hann tried to summon forth his aetheric pegasus, Kurda, it instead transformed into a gnarled beast neither of us had seen before. It lashed out at both of us, and we were forced to put it down. After we decided that it would be best to keep such summonings to a minimum until further notice, we headed for the ruins, and handily disposed of the roaming ashkin that had made it their abode. It wasn’t a particularly difficult task, honestly, but it helped us relief some pent-up stress, and filled our pockets with a bit of gil. So, a win-win.

With our work finished, a heavy rain started to pour down onto us. Without a doubt, we were soaked by the time we got to the Golden Bazaar, but at least the man who put out the job notice also owned the local inn, so we were given a free night on top of the pay. Once in our room, we discussed where we would head off to next. Given our current location, the South Shroud seemed like the best choice, considering that Quarrymill was a prime destination for adventurers looking to catch their stride. Not that either of us were fresh to this sort of work...but dealing with a few bandit gangs might be fun, I think. As for sharing a room with Rae-Hann, well...I can’t say that the idea isn’t nerve-inducing. But I know he is not the type to do anything. I will just wait until morning to change, I guess...I still want to talk with Rae about some things. Particularly, some of these new memories that have begun to resurface in recent nights, with the usual nightmares that come with them...but am I ready to share these memories? Aurelian...if you were in my position, what would you do? You’d probably be handling things far better than me. You were always the stronger of the two of us. I guess that’s why- -No. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. @yokasaris

#AThousandMalms #RaeHann #ValeriaCamena #SiannaultTavard #VoidThings #IHateNecromancers #I'llCutABitchISwear #UnrequitedAffection

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

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The First Move - Eraqus x Fem!Reader

It’s a little on the long side for my normal stuff, but meh. Eraqus brings out the lighter side of my writing at least.

~~~~~

Groaning, I kick at the alarm orb to shut it up. Dragging myself into the bathroom, I wash up and get ready for the day. I find Bragi and Hermod, both also groggy, in line for the bathroom when I step out.

“Have you seen Eraqus?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Hermod shakes his head sleepily and Bragi replies with a tired smirk, “Nah. He’s probably waiting for his babysitter to wake him up.”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, I prepare myself for the first challenge of the day. I approach the door next to my room and bang on the door. “Era. Eraqus, wake up!”

“Just let him sleep in and deal with the consequences himself,” Urd yawns, coming upon us along with Vor and Xehanort.

“I can’t,” I grumble. “Even if Eraqus gets punished, we’ll still get a lecture about looking after each other from the Master.”

“So you’re a push over,” Xehanort yawns to which I scowl. “You wouldn’t have this problem if you stopped babying Eraqus.”

“I don’t know if you can call it babying when she can literally throw him out of his room,” hums Urd. Vor giggles.

Ignoring the rest of their jeers, I push my way into Eraqus’s room. The boy is sprawled across his bed, still fast asleep. Reaching down, I shake him. “Hey, it’s time to get up.” He’s resilient today. Huffing, I rip the pillow from beneath his head and beat him with it. “Wake up, you lazy bum!”

He snaps awake, trying to cover his head. “I’m up! I’m up!”

I throw the pillow on top of him. “You better be. Now go get ready.”

Pushing himself off the bed, he stretches. “Alright, I’m going.”

Eraqus and I have been friends for a long time. I’ve known him since before our training days. So we’ve been stuck together for years. There’s not much that I don’t know about him, down to his ridiculous habit of chewing on the strings of his robe. And I’m sure he knows all my little quirks. We know each other so well, I could probably pick him out of a line up by his bare ass. He’s been there for me for so long; I’ve probably grown mildly dependant on him, even if it looks the other way around.

With other students and staff, I collect my breakfast in the cafeteria. I do my usual and gather breakfast for him as well, knowing that the slacker will get here when the food’s all gone. Before long, the others begin to gather at our usual table.

An arm reaches over my shoulder for the spare plate. Out of reaction, I move the plate further away and look back, but I didn’t expect him to be so close. My eyes catch on his, mesmerized by the flecks of silver scattered throughout his magical gray irises. I feel the warmth climbing up my spine. I’ve considered having feelings for him before, only to push them aside in favor of not ruining a friendship or distracting ourselves. So I’ve tried to ignore the fluttering in my chest and push aside the fantasies that intrude on my mind, but he makes it so difficult when he’s stupidly adorable and charming and I’m digging a hole.

“Excuse you,” I grumble and turn away; hoping that he didn’t see the working blush across my face.

He sits beside me and the sad puppy look comes up. “B-But!”

“Nu-uh. I got this,” I tell him, trying to maintain my cool, especially in front of the others. “I got up, got ready, came down, and picked this out myself. This is mine.”

“But!”

I push my now empty bowl towards him. Eraqus gets the hint and scurries away with the bowl to dump it in the dirty dish bin. Returning, he sits attentively, hoping I’ve been appeased. I let my eyes roll, but relinquish the plate to which he happily digs in. I notice the snickers and glances from the others but elect to ignore them. Only a few short moments later, I drag Eraqus and his half-eaten bagel to class.

~~~~~

My knees give and I end up on my ass, sighing in relief. Master Odin chuckles and tells us that training is done for the day. My partner in training flops down beside me, leaning against my back.

“You were great today,” he huffs. “That blizzard spell was strong.”

I huff between gasps, “Didn’t stop you from breaking out of it.”

His head tilts back to rest on my shoulder, his wavy hair brushing my cheek. “Thank goodness. The last thing I want to be is a popsicle.”

“Might make studying in peace a bit easier,” I say, poking at his face.

“Oh come on. You’d get bored if I weren’t here.”

“I do have hobbies outside of being bothered by you.”

“You enjoy it.”

I glance away in an attempt to hide my grin. “Whatever. Now get off me. You’re all sweaty.” Standing up, I leave him to flop onto his back from where he gives me a goofy grin. I raise a brow at him, hands on my hips. “I’m gonna go shower.”

Throwing his feet over his head, Eraqus is back on his feet. “’Kay. Then you’ll do my homework after right?” I throw a glare at him and he puts his hands up with that cheeky grin. “Sorry! I mean help; you’ll help me with my homework, yeah?”

Ignoring the lazy boy’s mischief, I amble off with Urd and Vor to clean up.

“You know he’s using you, right?” Urd comments on our walk. I glance at her. “Everyone, including Eraqus, knows you won’t let him fall behind.”

I sigh, “Considering I seem to be the class leader, I don’t know what else you expect me to do.”

“Part of being a leader is encouraging people to stand on their own,” Vor sings, dancing a few steps ahead. But she suddenly turns back with a Cheshire grin. “But there are other reasons you dote over him, aren’t there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

“Oh nothing.” She continues skipping down the hall and even Urd won’t stop smiling. They quickly change the subject despite my insistence.

~~~~~

“For the love of-Eraqus!” I tear the book from beneath his face, which subsequently collides with the table.

“Ow!” He sits up, frantically turning in his seat. “Fire! Daybreak Town! C! What subject is this?!” Regaining his senses, his silver eyes turn on me. Even though I’m standing over him with my arms folded, he sighs in relief and lets out a chuckle.

“For someone who sleeps in on a regular basis, you sure take a lot of naps,” I growl. “Honestly, if we hadn’t been friends since we started walking, I would’ve left you two grades behind.”

Propping an elbow on the table and resting a cheek against his palm, he answers, “I dunno. Just because you have ambition doesn’t make you mean. You’d probably drag me along by my feet even if we’d never met before.”

I shake my head. “Gods, they were right.” He raises a brow. “You’re just using me because you’re lazy.”

“Oh I dunno about thaaat,” he replies nonchalantly.

I close my book and reach for another. “I really should just let you fall behind. Even if the Master lectures the rest of us, you might actually-”

The second book slides away from me. “Woah woah. Okay, hold on. I’ll take it seriously.”

“Oh really?” I scoff.

“Yes. I swear.”

I glance over him briefly. He genuinely seems to mean it, but I can’t be sure it’s not just my soft spot for him. “Prove it.”

The boy glances around in search of a way to prove he’s serious. When it appears he’s got nothing, Eraqus looks to me, a look of uncertainty on his face. Before I can brush off his failed attempt to convince me to stay, surprise jolts through me like a thunder spell when he takes my wrist and pulls me into his lap.

“E-Eraqus!” My skin is on fire and the rate of my heart is climbing.

“Wait! Just-!” He taps at the book in my hands. “Explain the whole worlds-separating thing to me again!” Strong arms around my waist, he hugs me to him. “Please! I’ll pay attention this time!”

Seeing as I’m not going to get free of Eraqus’s stronger grasp without some force and he’s practically begging me, I relent. This is so incredibly awkward, yet I find it notably comfortable. Even as I read aloud and explain the text to him, my thoughts keep trying to draw me to the closeness of the situation: his body against my side, the arms that never release me, his chin against my shoulder—my insides are a complete wreck. However, Eraqus is true to his words, focusing on our studying and participating in the conversation. It’s only after maybe an hour that his attention lulls.

“And that’s how your ancestors settled Scala Ad Caelum,” I say, closing the book. “And that should be everything on our history homework.” His eyes blankly continue to stare at the book. “Eraqus?” Reaching up, I tap a finger against his nose. The boy flinches, his grip tightening on me. “You promised to pay attention.”

“I am,” he grumbles, rubbing his face against my arm. “Uh, you said my ancestors settled Scala Ad Caelum.”

“How?”

“Uh…” He’s got no answer. “Okay, I started zoning out a bit near the end. I’m sorry.”

It’s impossible for me to stay angry at that sheepish smile and I return it. “At least you made some progress.” I don’t know what possesses me to do so, but I let my fingers slide into his hair, pushing his bangs from his face. He emits an expression of serenity and I feel my temperature leap. My hand recoils and I pray that flush I feel isn’t visible on my face. “We should start our magic homework.”

He peers up at me and my brain goes on high alert. His eyes are burning; the steel color almost molten. “I think we should take a break.”

His voice is far more serious than usual and I’m sure he can see my fluster now. Still, I let my instincts react to his words rather than his tone. “Eraqus, we can’t keep-”

“Just ten minutes.” I’m not going to be able to resist if he keeps talking like that. “There’s something else I want to focus on for a bit.” Before I can object, a hand behind my head pulls me closer. My heart might just explode and I’m terrified he can hear it as clearly as I can. “You know, I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting, for you to break. But you’re far more persistent than I thought.” My words catch in my throat, making me unable to respond. “And I just can’t take it anymore.”

I can barely get his name out. “Eraqus?”

I never would’ve come close to imagining just how soft and warm his lips are. Even if they are soft, there’s still form behind them which he uses to lead the kiss. My insides are turned to absolute mush and, had my mouth not been occupied, I’d be begging him for more.

The kiss breaks with a soft click but no one backs away.

“I really like you,” he whispers as if speaking any louder will ruin everything. “And I really, really want to be more than friends. And I know you do too. So please just admit it already.”

I take a deep breath. For so long, I doused all budding emotions for this boy the moment they came up. I went about life as normal while convincing myself that he was just a close friend. But I guess there was a seedling that I’d missed, one that’s been growing in the background and hiding in plain sight, because I can’t find a reason to say no.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” I admit.

In the privacy of this moment, in the intimacy between us, that’s the brightest smile I’ve ever seen Eraqus wear. “Good.”

He pulls me in again and I let myself indulge in the weightless feeling of bliss. And Eraqus is happy to let me lead, to let me satiate the hunger that’s bloomed within me. I never knew just how much I wanted this until he handed it to me and now I may never let him go.

“I told you he was gonna make a move today.”

With my entire body on fire, I tear away from Eraqus to see our classmates entering the study room. There’s the utmost look of smug victory on Xehanort’s face.

“Hey guys,” Eraqus greets as if we weren’t just caught making out and I’m not still on his lap.

Bragi walks past Xehanort. “Please. It was obvious she was in control.”

“What are you guys…” I trail off because I’m not sure I want to know.

Hermod leans against the wall, smiling. “They had a bet on who was going to confess first.”

Vor pipes up, “Bragi was betting you’d make the first move.”

Eraqus’s chuckle resets the fire crawling across my skin and he nuzzles up against my shoulder. “Then I guess Xehanort wins,” he hums.

Xehanort looks all the more smug and Bragi’s jaw drops. “No way!”

My face burns even more and I try to hide some of it behind a hand while the victor replies, “Boom. I win. There was no way she was gonna cave before Eraqus. Now pay up.”

Bragi glowers as he digs through his pockets. “For years, you’ve taken the lead on almost everything but the one time I need you to be assertive, you let the class clown beat you to the punch.”

I open my mouth to retort, but Eraqus just laughs. “He’s right, you know.”

In retaliation, I pinch at his cheeks. “Oh yeah? How about I make you do the rest of your homework by yourself?”

He turns it around on me with a sly smirk. “If I do, can I have another kiss?”

“Looks like the class clown’s got our fearless leader on the ropes,” hums Urd, pointing out my returning blush.

“I think it’s cute.” Vor earns a glare.

Hermod finally kicks off the wall. “Okay guys, I think that’s enough. Let’s leave the love birds alone.” With that, he ushers the class out of the room, leaving me alone with Eraqus once again.

“About that kiss…” Eraqus says suggestively.

I turn on him, slowly drawing my tongue along his bottom lip. This time, it’s his turn to appear flustered. “Shut up.”

“Yes ma’am.”

#kh3 eraqus #eraqus #young eraqus #young master eraqus #eraqus x reader #young eraqus x reader #khdr #khdr eraqus #yme #yme x reader #kingdom hearts dark road #fem!reader

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lost-in-time-marie · 4 years

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Into the Shadows: Chapter One

I stared idly at the flat, gray skies waiting for Natasha by our favorite weeping willow in the courtyard, its green sweeping leaves the only splash of color in a sea of grays and browns. Whole school years had come and gone, but the two of us still met every morning in the same spot, at the same time, before the bell rang; I liked the tradition. Thick fog wound around the students filling the small, square dirt field, the grass trampled long ago. I loved the fog and the wind and the overcast, gray skies. If I breathed in just a little deeper, I swear I could smell the fall; the decaying leaves, the hint of chill forming in the air, signaling for the winter to follow close at its heels. The wind picked up my wavy, brown hair then, swirling it around my shoulders, as if to thank me for acknowledging it. I neatly tucked it back behind my ears and instinctively hugged my soft, red jacket closer to my body. It was far too early for the September sun to break through the grey yet, but I knew in a few hours the leaves would be alight with my favorite green-gold.

“Hey,” Natasha called, her freckled face cracking into a huge grin. My smile answered automatically.

“Hey,” I replied, switching my thoughts to the first day of school.

“I’m so excited! Especially for Advanced Placement Psychology,” Natasha chimed happily, her brown eyes lighting with excitement. I always teased her because her brown eyes were the exact shade of brown as the freckles that speckled her face and body. She did not particularly like such facts being pointed out to her, and I could picture the exact dark scowl she would pull her face down into at the mere mention of such subjects. Something was off about her appearance; it took me a moment to place it. Her usual long locks had been sheared off to above her shoulders, in what I knew was a last-minute decision to start off this school year different than all the others. Despite her tireless attempts at straightening the ridiculous curls every morning, the wind seemed to take great delight in ruining it her first step out the door.

“I know,” I replied with a groan, “You’ve said so at least every minute since school let out last year.”

“I know, I know, but still it’s going to be great!” she enthused, practically bouncing in place. I rolled my eyes.

“I like your haircut by the way,” I smiled. If I responded more than a few sentences before acknowledging such a crucial change, I certainly would suffer for it later.

She smiled, knowing my thoughts without me having to say them. “Thank you,” she said, touching the curls self-consciously. Shortly after catching up with our other friends in the courtyard, the bell rang. All of us seasoned citizens of this school, no one jumped, we merely begrudgingly separated off toward class, roused by the unseen compulsion.

I pulled a folded piece of paper from my jeans pocket and remembered my first period to be Acting 1 with Mrs. Robertson. Acting wasn’t particularly interesting or my cup of tea, but I couldn’t get Ceramics 1 with my schedule so I was forced to have Acting as my fine art credit. Mrs. Robertson was one of my teachers freshmen year, she loved me; this class would be a breeze.

I weaved easily through the crowd of students filing into the school and made my way up the stairs to Mrs. Robertson’s room; being petite and short had its advantages at times. Bright, sentimental posters plastering the walls and desks paired in twos greeted me upon entering Mrs. Robertson’s room. It was like something out of kindergarten. I barely concealed my cringe. Mrs. Robertson stood at the front of the classroom in a blinding yellow sundress writing “Welcome Students!” on the whiteboard in careful cursive. The few students who milled around the room I recognized, this was not surprising, our high school being small and suburban.

“Hello, Kristin, it’s nice to see you again this year,” Mrs. Robertson greeted me cheerily. She hadn’t changed at all in the three years since I last had her class last. Her blonde hair lay neatly in short layers tucked behind her ears, bright blue eyes still holding a smile for everyone, and a stature almost impossibly smaller than even mine somehow. It always bothered me how eerily happy and cheerful she was. I tried not to stare directly at her, it kind of felt like looking at the sun with her exuberant attitude and too bright dress.

“You too, Mrs. Robertson,” I replied with a smile, portraying none of my true feelings. I walked over to a desk and took a seat.

“Oh, I’m giving you seats in alphabetical order when the bell rings. Just stand at the back wall until we are ready,” Mrs. Robertson ordered me brightly. I did as she said, stifling a sigh. I watched the other students pour into the classroom and line up beside me after much prodding from Mrs. Robertson. She had almost no authority with the other students because she didn’t like to be stern, it was a rare event when a student actually listened to her.

“Alright class, please line up against the wall. I’m giving you assigned seats in alphabetical order,” Mrs. Robertson called, her cheerful voice never faltering. I leaned against the back wall, waiting for her to control the class and call my name.

“Ryder Grim, Kristin Hart,” She called several minutes later, having finally made some progress towards conducting a classroom. I walked to the pair of desks she stood beside and took the one she pointed to. The intense stares of my classmates weighed on me, heavy and palpable. I resisted the urge to bury myself right then and there. A guy sat in the other desk beside me. I didn’t recognize the name. Strange, thanks to Natasha’s insufferable curiosity I thought I knew all the seniors at this school. I peered at Ryder from the corner of my eye, using a thin veil of wavy brown hair to hide my gaze. His jet-black hair was gelled and stylishly tousled, almost long enough to hang in his eyes, which were the brightest green I had ever seen. Coupled with snow white, flawless skin and wiry muscles, he was quite a sight, even more so because I realized I really didn’t recognize him at all.

“Kristin, this is Ryder, he’s new to our school this year, please be a dear and help him out,” Mrs. Robertson instructed, standing over my desk. I nodded obediently, and with a merry smile she returned to calling out names and assigning desks. Relief swallowed me as attention gradually shifted away from us again. I guess that explained things at least. A pang of pity sliced through me unexpectedly. All my awkward, lonely past first days of school as the new kid in town suddenly flashed behind my eyes. I turned to Ryder, determined to be welcoming, despite my usual shyness.

“I’m Kristin, it’s nice to meet you,” I introduced politely.

“Ryder, pleasure,” He said curtly, his words harsh and clipped as if meeting me was absolutely the worst ordeal in the world. A flicker of surprise skipped through me, followed by an unwanted wave of rejection. I didn’t often go out of my way to reach out to others, and I certainly wasn’t expecting such a vehement response to a usually harmless gesture. He kept his stony, bright green eyes forward without even a glance in my direction. I worked to bite my sharp tongue and resist the urge to say something that would force him to turn to look at me, my instinct being to lash out with the hurt.

“Well you seem nice,” I retorted sarcastically, half to myself. Well, at least I tried.

“I do my best,” He sneered coldly. I rolled my eyes and focused on class until the bell chimed again, refusing to engage him further. Now I could have a whole new reason to dread this class every morning.

The class passed quicker than I expected; much to my delight. Most of the class period was wasted assigning seats and getting students to behave, the rest was spent just going over the syllabus, rules, and future class assignments; generic first day business. Ryder’s presence nagged at me through the entirety of the period, like a fly relishing in buzzing specifically in my ear. The bell rang. I jumped from my seat and fled to the hall, eager to retreat from my icy partner, the tangible tension between us was beginning to suffocate me towards the end.

“Your partner seems super friendly,” A breathy voice called from behind me. I turned to see a short, plump girl with short black hair and a sweet smile.

“Oh hey, Katy, I didn’t even see you, we have Acting together?” I asked, slowing my stride to wait up for her. Katy’s smiled beamed at me from her round face, as always. She was the sweetest girl, kind to everyone, it was easy to quickly become her friend.

“Yes,” She replied happily, almost childlike.

“I’m so glad we have classes together this year too. I feel like I didn’t see you nearly enough this summer,” I commented with genuine pleasure. Katy wasn’t my best friend like Natasha or anything, but she had always been kind to me when Natasha and I got in a riff or when we shared classes in past school years. She let her layered black hair fall in her face as she asked to see my schedule. I pulled my schedule from my pocket again to compare, discovering Katy and I shared only one other class.

“So who was that guy?” asked Katy, round cheeks turning bright red.

“Ryder? I don’t know, he only said two words to me the whole class. He was pretty rude, actually,” I answered with a shrug.

“That’s so weird, but he was seriously hot,” She admitted, grinning wildly and nudging my arm.

I gave her a wry smile before replying, “Do not even think about it.”

“Oh, come on! It’s been forever since you dated anyone! Eighth grade to be exact.” Katy prodded, wagging her eyebrows at me.

I laughed, “Yes and I plan to keep it that way for a while longer. Ryder is a rude jerk and I’d consider myself lucky if I never had anything to do with him again! Besides, I’m headed off to college after this year, why would I want to start a relationship now?”

“You’re so critical, maybe he’s just...shy? He is new this year” She replied, always coming to the defense of others.

“Yeah, I sincerely doubt it. If it makes you feel better, I’ll see what Natasha knows about him,” I supplied, sneakily negotiating an escape. Katy’s grin collapsed and her full, pink lips pulled down. I sighed.

“I really wish you and Natasha would just get along,” I said, shaking my head, but secretly happy for the redirection of conversation.

Katy snorted, “Unlikely.”

I rounded the corner approaching my class and Katy waved goodbye as she headed in the opposite direction to her next period. Just as I reached my next class, I noticed Ryder standing in the hall with his schedule in one hand and a map in the other. He twisted the map around and furrowed his brows; if he stared at the paper any more intently it would just spontaneously combust.

I sighed and approached him, silently cursing my better nature. “What class are you going to?” I asked, just barely attempting civility. I was a sucker for people in need, even for rude jerks that made bad first impressions. Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

He jumped and turned to me. He was even more handsome when I stared at him directly. The paleness of his skin was striking against such dark black hair and his green eyes were practically luminescent. I quickly pushed that thought from my mind, not even wanting to admit it’d skidded through.

“Look, I don’t need your help, I can get around on my own,” He replied stonily.

“What is your problem? I’m trying to help you! Why do you have to be so stubborn?!” I practically yelled, my temper flaring sharply. I snatched the schedule and map from his hand. I angled the map the right way and shoved it back at him.

“Your next class is down the hall, third door on the right,” I fumed, relinquishing the schedule to him before turning sharply on my heel and stalking angrily to class. I should have just let him wonder lost, maybe he would have left, I half wished silently.

I didn’t understand quite why I hated Ryder Grim so much already, especially when it was quite a feat to even make me angry, let alone produce hate. Perhaps it was the stubborn way he refused help or the insolent way he directed his every word in the direction of others. I liked to think I was above being hurt by his rejection at my attempt to be friendly to the new kid. It might even be jealousy at his utter perfection compared to my awkward, clumsy mannerisms. Regardless, he made my skin heat, my muscles itch to hit him, and more than anything, he made me not want to be within a ten-mile radius of him. I tried to simmer down and feign indifference, but I knew myself better.

Besides that incident, I refused to allow my mind to recollect the boiling irritation of earlier, the rest of the day passed rather easily. We did all the usual first day of school nonsense. AP Government followed into Calculus which turned into AP Literature then Lunch trailed by Teacher Assisting to AP Chemistry, and finally my long-awaited AP Psychology. A teacher named Sinclair taught AP Psychology, I had had a class of his every year since I started high school, as had Natasha; he was the best teacher on campus and everyone’s favorite.

I barely saw Ryder after first period, I let out a silent thank you to whoever was listening for that small stroke of luck. He was in my Chemistry class, but I sat as far away from him as the classroom would allow. Every time I saw him, I just got more and more steamed until even his name made me want to spit fire.

I rushed for Sinclair’s class just in time to see Natasha practically dance through the door. I had only really seen Natasha in between classes. Natasha was in my AP Government class and this class, but that was it, not including lunch. Most teachers knew well enough now to separate us, or she would talk all through class. I followed her inside and we took our usual seats beside each other. Sinclair was different, there was an unspoken expectation in his classroom that not even Natasha dared challenge. We caught up with each other and asked about how school had gone so far, both of us had good things to report and I had all but forgotten my early morning encounter with Ryder. Unfortunately, the next time I glanced up he was walking briskly across the classroom and took a seat at the very back.

I was careful to compose myself around Natasha, lest I give away my true displeasure, but she was too quick and knew me too well.

“I see you’ve met the newest addition to our campus already,” Natasha mused, seeing right through me.

“Ugh! Not him again,” I groaned, not hesitating to unleash the true force of my annoyance from this morning now that I was discovered. I hastily recapped the events of the morning for her benefit.

Natasha laughed. “Wow, you hate someone already and it’s just the first day of school, you’ve learned so well from me,” she beamed with pride.

I shook my head, “Please, he’s just another stupid, immature boy to add to the already overly healthy collection at this school,” I muttered, stealing a glance in his direction at the back of the room. He sat perfectly straight and barely moving, looking very much like a statue.

The late bell rang then, and Sinclair swept into the classroom with a brain in his hand. A fake brain, of course. Sinclair always rolled into class just as the late bell rang with some mysterious prop which our lesson for the day would focus on. It’s why everyone loved his class, he kept things interesting and didn’t waste time on stupid things like a syllabus or rules. That, and, in a lot of ways, he was kind of like a kid himself.

“My name is Sinclair. Not Mr. Sinclair, that was my father’s name, just Sinclair or sir. The rules are: no cell phones, don’t talk while I’m talking, and do as I tell you. Follow the rules and we’ll have lots of fun, break the rules and your life in this class will be hell,” Sinclair explained in a stern, booming voice. New kids would be fooled by this strict façade, although Sinclair knew how to control a classroom, he loved all his students and made everything very fun. He gave the same introduction at the beginning of every year. “I gave you all a syllabus at orientation, I’m not going to waste time going over it with you, you can all read by now I hope,” he continued, several repeat students of his, like Natasha and I, laughed, “Today, we’re going to talk about the brain.” The rest of the class he showed us diagrams and models of the brain explaining each part and its role, it was all very fascinating. Natasha ate up every word and took notes. I’d never seen her so motivated. Sinclair had that strange effect on his students, no one wanted to disappoint him because no one could be disappointed in quite the same way Sinclair could be disappointed in you. Class passed quicker than I would have liked, at the last ten minutes he had us break off into groups to become more familiar with the brain models.

“You know that guy you were talking about earlier? Ryder Grim? I heard about him earlier,” Natasha whispered to me as we broke apart models of the brain to peer inside. Natasha dealt in information. Every school had a rumor mill, but half of the information was false or misconceived. Natasha knew just about everything about everyone and all of it was one hundred percent true. I’m not particularly unpopular or popular, but Natasha hated about seventy-five percent of our school population and the other 24.5% was acquaintances, that last .5% was her real friends, like me. How she got all her information with that kind of social order astounded me, but I never asked, somehow, with Natasha, I was almost afraid to find out. Don’t be fooled though, she did spread a lot of information around school, but if I or anyone else told her a secret they didn’t want to get out, she would take it to her grave.

I sighed and chuckled, “Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know me too well,” She answered with a devious smile, “Anyways, I heard he just moved here to live with his uncle, not too far from you actually. A lot of girls are already swooning over him, too. He’s in one of my classes.”

“How do you ever actually get work done with all this gossiping?” I joked, shaking my head.

“Work? What is this work you speak of?” Natasha asked in mock confusion, tilting her head so short, brown ringlets fell over her face.

I laughed, “I don’t even really care anymore, he’s just a jerk, and I’m not going to let him or anyone else bother me this year,” I vowed. The bell rang making us all jump, this time with eagerness to follow its prompting, as this bell released us home. I hoisted on my loaded down backpack and walked with Natasha to her white Prius.

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ryder-s-block · 4 years

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Jaig Eyes (Ch 52)

Jaig Eyes (52/?)

Summary:

Kida, a former slave who now thrives as a bounty hunter, finds herself sucked into the war she advised Jango Fett against. Now that she’s involved, she has to finally mourn the loss of Jango, seeing his face in the clones that man the GAR. What happens when she allows herself to get attached to one, not for his resemblance to her former mentor, but for his heart?

————————-

Chapter Fifty-Two: The Lightsaber

“Ah, welcome,” Bendu’s voice echoed as I made my way across the coral-like plains of Atollon. My ship’s engines were barely even cooling and he already sensed my presence, greeting me as I descended into his pit. “A new person approaches me this day,” he commented, sitting back on his haunches to regard me. “You are far less loud.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at my friend. “I’ve spent some time thinking about what you said. And had some experiences that better helped me understand.”

Bendu smiled gently. “You’ve listened to your crystal. I hear it now. It no longer screams as it once did.”

“No, but it’s still broken.”

He regarded me with his deep gaze. “Are you? Still broken, I mean.”

I breathed slowly, considering. “I have my scars, I’ll admit. And I’m sure I’ll get more. But no. I’m not broken. Not anymore.”

“Then it’s time your kyber was the same way. Are you ready?” He leaned back, gesturing to the cave I’d already entered once before.

I closed my eyes, drawing out my pistols and putting them on the ground. Pulling forth my ancestor’s lightsaber and the new kyber hilt, I clipped them both to my belt. “Yes. I’ve reassembled this countless times,” I breathed, touching the saber at my hip. “I can do it with my eyes closed.”

“Forget all you’ve read,” my friend suggested, shocking me. “Forget all you’ve studied. Your saber must be your own. You will be tested. Trust only in the Force.”

“I will,” I assured gently, walking into the tunnels with as much confidence as I could muster.

The air was stale. Potent with the scent of decay I knew came from the spiders. They were ancient. Maybe even as old as Bendu, who I knew had watched empires rise and fall. I couldn’t sense them, but I felt their eyes on me. Heard their pinchers clacking with curiosity. I walked on, letting the Force guide me into the tunnels.

Aware of Bendu’s thoughts following me through my journey, I focused on keeping myself centered. Now understanding the creatures that lurked here, I knew they would react as I did. Fear wasn’t an option.

I walked for likely half an hour beneath the surface of the deserted planet before I felt drawn to a particular junction. It was parted five ways, with a long wall on one side. It was almost...reflective.

I stepped up to it, feeling it calling for me to sit before it. Kneeling and ignoring the hiss of the curious spiders that were blocking my exits, I drew out my lightsaber and new hilt, placing them on the ground before me. Closing my eyes, I let the Force take over, feeling the pieces lift and separate in the air, revealing the broken kyber crystal.

It hummed with pain. Loss. And hope.

I felt a whisper of the Force, opening my eyes to see my crystal floating before me. Further, in the reflection of the wall, I saw a shadow that looked nothing like me. The shoulders were wider, but the stature shorter. I looked boyish.

I was drawn to this unknown shadow, both by blatant curiosity and the gentle nudging of the Force. My fingers reached past my suspended crystal, the shadow mimicking me. As the pads of my bare hands touched the reflection, the other hand met it, the reflection clearing from a shadow to an image.

The boy before me was likely eight or nine, his skin tan and hair cropped short. He was wearing Jedi robes, some frost sticking to the edges.

I pulled my hand away sharply, the boy I recognized as a young Remulus Dreypa doing the same. We stared at each other, our shared crystal floating between us. I shoved down my fear and emotions, feeling the spiders behind me reacting.

Stilling myself and my whirlwind of a mind, I reached back out, prodding Remulus to do the same. Pressing my hand firmly against the wall, I could almost feel the heat of his hand against mine. And then his fingers curled, growing longer and stronger, emerging from the wall to link with my hand roughly.

I tried to pull away again, on instinct, as his face warped to grow older, his eyes turning a menacing yellow. Gritting my teeth, I felt the spiders hiss in anxiety, edging closer as I pushed down my panic. I closed my eyes, feeling the pull of the mirrored wall as it tried to drag me into what I feared most.

I steadied myself, turning my free hand to be palm up, resting easily on my lap. I stopped pulling from Dreypa’s grasp, letting him hold me and glare through the wall. I looked him in the eyes, steeling myself.

“I do not fear where I come from. Nor do I fear the past. My gaze lies ahead now,” I announced to the room, the spiders stilling as I spoke calmly. Clenching my jaw, I dared him, “Do your worst.”

He only smiled at me, his grip becoming less severe as image faded to a slightly lighter complexion, his eyes turning a warm golden color.

“Rex,” I whispered, earning another silent smile. Behind him, I saw the image of Qui-Gon. Yilria. Jango. Boba. Fives. Echo. Obi-wan. Anakin. Padme. Ahsoka. Merl. Rouva. Cody. Hardcase. Jesse. Kix.

My family.

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth they brought me, even though they weren’t here. And when I opened them, they were gone, the wall a dark stone, rather than reflective. And my crystal was glowing. Fractures ran through it like veins, but it wasn’t cracked anymore. It was healed.

Scarred, like me. But no longer broken.

Concentrating in my meditation, I let the Force guide the pieces, ignoring how I’d once put it together when I practiced. Lifting my hands to better guide myself, I turned the mechanism over as it came together, watching the kyber slide into its place eagerly. The sleeve slid over the finished version, sweat beading on my brow as I allowed the Force to guide everything into its perfect position.

I felt the click in the Force more so than I heard it.

Standing slowly, I reached out to take the hilt from where it floated, feeling eyes on me in the darkness. The saber felt...right...in my hands. Strong. Powerful. But peaceful. Hopeful.

I thumbed the activator, the blade igniting to life. It shined a brilliant white--a symptom of a healed crystal, Bendu had told me--illuminating the cavern.

As I held my blade high in the air, I was shocked to find there were no spiders near me at all. It had been my worries. My fear.

When I let it all go in the reflection of the mirror...I let them go, too. And now I could get to work.

------------------------------------------

The blade came to my hand easily when I called for it through the Force, igniting in its blinding white brilliance. I spun it in my grasp, slicing my cuffs, before holding it at the ready.

Dooku glared at me through the holoprojector. “Kill her.” I thrust out my hand, throwing Sobeck backwards and into the projector, cutting off the count. The special units leapt into action, but I deflected their bolts easily, rolling sideways to slice two of them in half before deflecting the last two back at the final ones.

I would’ve stuck around to finish off Sobeck and take down the Citadel from the inside, but the command droid was already calling squads our way. I could even hear the destroyers rolling down the halls.

So I bolted, hurrying from the room and sprinting down the halls, saber in hand. I made my way to an elevator, calling the button to bring me back up towards the holding cells, where I assumed Obi-wan and the others were being taken again.

Break-out...take two.

The lift doors hissed open, revealing a squad of unsuspecting battle droids. “Hey!” one of them yelled as I smirked before them, lifting my lightsaber for them to see. “Blast her!” They didn’t get the chance as I surged into the lift, slicing them down easily.

In reality, Piell was right. A lightsaber really was so much more effective.

The lift brought me up quickly, opening to reveal even more droids. Oh boy...this wasn’t going to be very easy.

Still, the bounty hunter that still resided in me revelled in the chance to finally use this weapon in the open. I recalled what the armorer had said. “Swear to wield this weapon with the honor of a Mandalorian...Use this weapon wisely, young Fett.

I gave the blade a little flourish with an easy smile. “Hi guys,” I said, earning the attention of the dozen droids there. They all turned with fright, but had little time to react as I leapt forward, dodging through them easily.

The longer I wielded the blade, the more at ease I became. I felt myself connect with the Force...flow with it. I knew where to put my blade. To deflect a shot. To sweep through a droid. I knew where to step. To dodge. To deflect a shot. To get in close.

It wasn’t until all the droids had fallen that I became aware of my knelt form, lightsaber thrust behind me. I panted, finally feeling fatigue from the use of both my body and my mind. Disengaging the saber, I hooked it to the front of my belt easily to assess the room. The droids were scattered in pieces--something I’d achieved with ease with my use of the Force. Maybe I should consider implementing the lightsaber and the Force when I worked my usual jobs. It certainly made things easier.

Then again, maybe it made things more dangerous, too. Higher stakes. Higher prices. Higher threats.

A comm beeped from one of the droids, drawing my attention. “To the hangar! To the hangar!” a droid cried through it. “The prisoners have escaped!”

Ah. So they didn’t make it to the cells after all. I glanced around, grinning when I spotted a window at the far end of the hall. Conveniently, it was in the direction of the hangar.

Just what I needed.

I raced towards it, leaving the droid parts behind. The sound of destroyers echoed down the far hall, moving to cut off my escape. Well, I wouldn’t allow that, especially considering I could hear the beginnings of a battle outside. As they rolled into my way, I grounded my stance, pushing my hands towards them.

And with my hands, the Force shoved forwards, launching the destroyers backwards and through the window. Yay. No glass shards in my face this time. I followed them shortly, leaping down onto a platform above the landing pad. Turrets were firing endlessly into the hangar below--likely at my fellow escapees.

Without even thinking, I rushed forward to the blinding shine of the spotlights. Igniting my lightsaber, I slashed through the base of the turret closest to me, spinning away as it sparked and slid forwards to crash into the hangar.

As much as taking out a turret helped the plight of my friends, it only drew attention to me. The next turret turned in its base, aiming at me. “Uh oh,” I muttered before leaping backwards, barely dodging the twin green blasts it shot at me.

With the closest turrets turning to aim at me, I knew there was no more I could do up here but be killed. I turned and left the death trap behind, leaping into the hangar to join the others. Droid squadrons began to enter the area, emerging from the hallways of the Citadel, as I raced around the corner of the shipping containers.

The clones in 212th yellow nearly shot me as I came around, all seeming shocked at my escape. My lightsaber wasn’t ignited anymore, but it was still easily seen hanging from my belt.

Piell eyed me as I joined them, giving me a small grin. “Nice to see you didn’t need a rescue.”

“Never,” I smiled back, peering around the corner to see our situation only getting worse as more droids joined the fray. “Though you seem to always need one.” I received some looks from the Kenobi and the clones alike, but Piell only chuckled at my teasing.

Shots sounded from behind us, a familiar tremor rippling in the Force. We turned, seeing Anakin’s group racing over the rocky surface of Lola Sayu. I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw Echo and Fives, as well as Rex and Ahsoka, all doing well and fine.

Perhaps the sense of dread I’d felt while saying goodbye to Echo and Fives had only been my paranoia, rather than the Force.

“Sorry I’m late,” Anakin joked as he joined us at our cover.

“How nice of you to join us,” Obi-wan responded easily with equal sass, earning a smile from his former padawan. Ahsoka moved beside me where I was looking out at the hangar, Tarkin kneeling as well.

“The ship is surrounded,” she announced, clearly getting tired herself.

“We need to launch a full scale assault and take that vessel!” I turned slowly, already knowing which worm was talking. Tarkin.

“I thought you were a renowned military leader, Captain,” I bit, earning some looks from the others present. Notably...Rex. “Take a second to take in your battlefield. Rushing out there will get us all killed with those turrets up there.”

“She’s right,” Obi-wan allowed, though I could sense his distaste at my bitterness. “If we don’t take them out, they will use them to destroy the shuttle and prevent our escape.”

Tarkin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Which is precisely why we should get aboard that shuttle and use the weapons systems to decimate those droids!”

I was going to say something back in a snarl, but stopped when Anakin rose to his feet. “Whatever we’re going to do,” he said, sounding as annoyed as I was. “We better do it fast.” He lifted his hand, pointing in the direction his squad had come from. I followed his line of sight, seeing a squadron of droids on STAPs, heading our way. They open fired on us, everyone diving out of the way. I rolled to the next container, joining Fives and Echo as they worked to take down the droids storming the hangar floor.

Aiming my wrist gauntlet skyward, I fired the fibercord at one of the oncoming STAPs, watching it wrap around the battledroid’s leg. I pulled hard, putting my whole body into it, before smirking as the droid was pulled from its mount and sent hurtling to the ground.

While the Jedi took care of the rest, I drew my lightsaber, getting in front of the brothers to help defend them. “Nice to see you again,” Fives joked while he joined my side and fired his blaster at the oncoming droids. Echo moved out from cover right after him, throwing a detonator under one of the approaching spider droids.

I grinned at them both as the droids went down, only for the hangar doors to hiss open again. Sobeck’s special units, equipped with shields, emerged from the interior hallways, heading right for us. “Stay behind me,” I ordered, crossing my saber in front of my body, creating a ready guard.

As I deflected the incoming fire, Echo through another detonator. Unfortunately, while they did well against battle droids, these commandos were sturdy. They were flown backwards, but quickly found their feet again.

We ducked behind the crate again, my energy beginning to sap with all the Force use I’d been putting in that day...not to mention all the running.

“As helpful as that thing is,” Fives muttered to me as we pressed our backs to the metal container. “I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured him, breathing heavily as I examined the landing pad. Our odds were pretty grim. Especially since I spotted a commando droid climbing up to one of the turrets they’d shot a droid out of earlier.

“General Skywalker,” I heard Echo say into his wrist comm behind me. “A droid is manning one of those turrets. They’re gonna blow up the shuttle, sir.”

We looked up as the turret’s hydraulics hissed and groaned, aiming skyward. That didn’t make sense… the shuttle was--

Anakin and Piell were both on a STAP together, zooming at top speed towards the turret. “Get ‘em, General,” Fives whispered as he and his brother peered around the corner with me. It was said almost like a prayer, rather than an encouragement.

Whatever deity he was praying to wasn’t listening.

The turret caught the STAP in its front, sending both Jedi tumbling to the ground, their ride destroyed. We ducked behind cover again as the commandos began to advance on us again, Anakin and Piell racing for cover as the turret’s blasts followed them across the hangar.

“This is our only chance,” Echo said beside me, taking my place at the corner. “We’ve got to stop him.”

I steadied myself as Fives nodded, stepping out after his brother, who was scooping up one of the shields a commando had dropped. As I turned to stop them, connecting myself with the Force, I was struck with a vision.

I didn’t see much, but I was struck with the same sense of dread I’d felt when I’d said goodbye to the brothers. When I’d feared I wouldn’t be there to protect them. My body turned cold, my breath hitching in my chest.

I saw a scorched clone helmet.

“Echo, look out!” I heard Fives call from only a few feet in front of me. Echo was rushing forward with the shield, making his way onto the gangway.

“Fives,” I said urgently, grabbing shoulder pauldron and turning him away. “Move!” We dove backwards as the turret’s blasts struck the shuttle, blowing it….and my friend...to pieces. I was nearly blinded by the amount of brutal grief I felt from the clones. And Skywalker and his padawan.

“Echo!” Fives screamed beside me as he found his feet. I looked over my shoulder, lightsaber hilt in hand. Echo’s helmet laid on the hangar floor before us. Scorched and destroyed. Just as I had seen in my vision.

“We have to go now,” Obi-wan commanded from behind us, lightsaber still up to deflect oncoming shots.

I swallowed past the emotion I felt not only from those around me, but from within myself. I touched Fives’ shoulder, glancing at him. He didn’t look at me for a second, before his head finally turned. I saw my own teary eyes reflected in the black visor.

He pivoted with me, shoving down his grief as I did, before running to catch up with the others as they raced towards somewhere to hide within Lola Sayu’s deadly landscape.

----------------------------------

Author’s Note:

I know a lot of you wanted me to save Echo. However, I chose against doing that, not only because Echo’s death plays an important role in Fives’ arc, but also will tie into the next season coming out.

I don’t want to lock myself out of potentially having Kida in the new season one day, if I mess with canon TOO much.

As always, likes/comments/reviews/shares are always appreciated.

-Ryder

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contrivedcoincidences6 · 5 years

Text

The Invisible Cord (reboot) - Chapter 4

Previously

November 2011 Somewhere in rural Virginia

My office is plastered with articles, news reports, and various pictures of mythological creatures. I run my eyes over the now-familiar makeshift wallpaper and begin to hate the lack of personal touches. What I see before me is an empty life.

I have a few pictures on my desk though. There’s one of Scully and me on the beach during our Mexican vacation a few years back. Her skin is freckled, sun-kissed, and makeup-free. Her toothy smile helps ease the ache that threatens to overwhelm me most days.

Then there is the first Christmas we had with her mother after I was no longer considered a fugitive. Bill had been there and I got to meet Scully’s younger brother Charlie. Charlie and I got on right away. Bill, however, was the same as ever, maybe worse. But Maggie was just happy to see us again. When Scully and I wound up under the mistletoe Charlie started chanting for us to kiss and Maggie happened to have her camera ready. It’s a sweet photo, colored lights cast the photo in festive lighting as we kiss.

The third and final photo is one that’s been on my desk for as long as I’ve had one. One of Samantha and I when we were kids.

Hidden inside the top drawer are two photos that are too painful to have in plain sight.

The first is of Scully, William, and I on the last day we were together as a family. We are looking at William like he was the first baby ever born. Maggie took it when she came into the apartment to see us just sitting on the bed admiring the baby. Scully is sitting between my legs and I’m wrapped around her. The photo rips open the wound every time I see it.

The other is a shot of Emily that Scully was able to get her hands on. She is sitting on a swing with a big smile on her face. That photo does other things to me. Along with the pain of loss is bloodlust for the people who’d killed her. The smiling little girl just reminds me that she was never truly mine while she lived.

These pictures rarely leave the drawer. They sit under a pile of papers hidden away until the moments when the pain becomes too much. When the tide of memories overcomes me I lay the pictures out side-by-side and wallow in the pain. And then I wait. Wait until Scully comes home.

These days all that I live for is Scully’s comings and goings. In the mornings I go on a three-mile run before lifting weights in the basement. After that, I shower, shave, and then sit in my office. I do some work on the book I’ve been writing for the past eight years. Or maybe I’ll just lose myself in some pornography.

The days go by slowly and after making dinner, I practically count the minutes till Scully walks in the door and I can kiss her, hold her, wrap myself in her warmth or offer some up to her on the cold nights. We eat and do the dishes and curl up in front of the news or a movie. Sometimes we play games or get drunk, or sometimes we just talk.

Today I’ve been restless though. I think about calling a cab and going into the city but I have no idea what I’d do once I got down there.

The clock tells me it’s 4:40, too late for Scully’s lunch. That’s usually my excuse for going downtown. I know she’d be happy to see me but I don’t want to show up while she’s in surgery and be forced to deal with another one of her coworkers. I’m even less social these days.

My fingers twitch over the keyboard and I search the one thing Scully tells me never to look up: 2002 adoption records.

A year ago I found the record of a baby who matches William exactly. He was listed under the name ‘Van De Kamp’. It didn’t take Scully long to realize that I’d been looking for him and she begged me to stop, knowing if I did end up finding him we’d be desperate to go to him, undoing the future she sought for him when she’d given him up.

Today the urge to find his record is too strong and I silently apologize to Scully before I type in the name. Before I can press the enter button though, an email notification pops up in the bottom right corner. It’s from a blocked address which intrigues me.

I get the occasional email from old sources about paranormal activity. When it seems important or interesting enough I’ll travel to wherever they are and check it out. Since I was exonerated, the biggest change is how free I am to travel. This email though is something else.

Mr. Mulder,

We know there are many mysteries in your life that have never been solved, as well as many wounds that have never been healed. We have the answer to one of those mysteries. If you are willing we can reveal some of the workings of the sub-government. One that we both know runs everything. We must warn you this information will be dangerous for both you and Dr. Scully, but I can promise you both that it will be worth it. Both of you must make the decision to take part. If you are interested in what we have to say respond to this email with a simple ‘Yes’ and you will be sent further instructions.

Kurt Crawford

My brows furrow- ‘Kurt Crawford’- Where do I know that? Then I remember the bland face of the clone that had helped me find Scully’s ova all those years ago. The clones called Scully one of their mothers and wanted to help me find a cure for her cancer and infertility. They were all destroyed before they could be of much help; at least I thought they were all destroyed.

Kurt’s use of the word ‘we’ instead of ‘I’ makes me uncomfortable. There could have been some of his clones that survived after being raised on the farm with the Samantha clones I suppose. The memory comes back with painful clarity of the little girl wearing my sister’s face. Dealing with the clones has only ever brought me trouble. The writer of the email might not even be Kurt Crawford, it could all be some kind of trap. Either way, I decide not to make a move until Scully comes home.

By the time I get back to my search for William, I have enough self-control to close the tab and go for another run. Scully will be home soon. And we’ll figure it out together.

_________________

November 2011 An hour outside Washington D.C.

“How much longer do you think we have?” May asks as she shifts her position.

“An hour,” comes the short reply from Samantha.

“What will we do when we get there?” May asks sounding like a child asking ‘are we there yet?’.

“We’ll get hotel rooms for ourselves, eat dinner, and sleep,” Samantha responds again.

I can practically hear May’s eye roll.

“C’ mon. You know what I mean.”

I swear I see a small smirk cross Samantha’s face but it’s gone before I can be sure.

“Nothing significant will happen until tomorrow. We have to find a safe spot to meet our contact and then we’ll see what happens.”

“See what happens? Really? So we’re basically flying blind?” May exclaims, moving again accidentally pushing her duffel into my side.

I shoot her a dirty look and she rolls her eyes but settles down in her seat.

“We have a plan.” Kurt interjects.

“You just don’t know what it is,” May snorts, flapping her hand around in the air, “Do our parents even know about us?”

The silence from the front seat is discomforting.

“Well?” I ask leaning forward.

“No. But we have been in contact with them,” Kurt answers.

“They all live around D.C?” I question.

Kurt shakes his head, “May’s parents are separated. Her mother lives in Maryland and her father in Georgia. Your parents live about an hour outside of D.C.”

The mention of my parents makes my stomach flip in excitement.

“D.C. seemed like a good place to meet. May, your mother takes monthly business trips into the city where she will be tomorrow. April your mother works in the city.” Kurt continues.

“So they will all be there?”

More silence.

“We do not know. We have contacted all of them. Now we wait,” Samantha says.

#the x files #txf #msr #the invisible cord #clarices fic #emily sim #the x files fanfic #txf fanfic

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downwithwritersblock · 6 years

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Welcome to part five of our Monthly Guide to Monsters! My dear sweet @quills-and-golden-ink and I have put together some quick and easy guides to some of the world’s most infamous creatures!

The guide will include: basic background, historical information, abilities, how to defeat them, and portrayals in media. My sets will also always come with Prompts!

For the Month of October, we will be posting two a week! I’m so sorry that I am so late for this one. Life has been a bit hectic. But no matter the date it is posted on, we promise it will be 2 a week for the rest of October, and two a month for the rest of the year.

*Warning for graphic or gruesome depictions and retelling of violence*

Without further ado, we present to you all, the Monthly Guide To Monsters #5:

Witches

Definition: One who practices the art of witchcraft. Can be good, evil or neutral.

Definition of Witchcraft: There are many meanings or definitions given to witchcraft throughout the world and through many different cultures. In some beliefs, it’s a practice usually used for healing, in others, it’s a magical ability to do mystical things far beyond normal human capacity. In cultural anthropology, Witchcraft is usually defined as the innate ability to cause harm.

Description: Just like the definition, the description of witches changes across cultures. Many legends depict them as being physically indistinguishable from humans. They are often depicted as females in folklore, but more modern media has broken that line. In some (older)media, Witches were depicted as being rather grotesque humanoids, with large noses, warts and straw like hair. (*Disclaimer Edit*: I didnt add this before, because I found it unnecessary, but apparently it is needed. This old depiction of witches comes form anti-semetic propaganda. This description is extremely racist, but is no longer seen in modern media, so I did not think I had to advice people against doing it.)

Abilities: Depending on where you are looking, the abilities of a witch can change drastically. In some cultures, Witchcraft is purely a practice that requires hard work, education, potions or special ingredients, mystical objects and sacred words/spells/incantations. In other cultures, Witches have innate magical abilities where they need only to think of something in order for it to be done. Other cultures, and most forms of media, like to mix these two ideas. So usually Witches have or use the following:

Spells are a kind of incantation with strong magical power(Older spells are often in a foreign or ancient language rather then English, so it’s not uncommon to see a witch portrayed as speaking multiple languages)

Potions made from magical or mystical ingredients and can be used for a large number of things.

Witches are often shown possessing a large amount of knowledge about other magical creatures.

Levitation and flying

Witches are sometimes said to be able to disguise themselves through transformation magic, though the extent of the transformation depends on the lore. Some are just to look ‘more human’, others can fully transform into animals.

Opening of portals to teleport

Some witches are said to control or communicate with certain aspects of nature, like animals, elements or the weather.

Necromancy is usually more of a specialized practice, but it is said that some witches can raise the dead.

Demonology is a darker idea behind witches, it’s the idea that witches can and often summon demons from hell or trade their souls with demons in exchange for magic.

Healing. This is a magical art usually given to ‘white witches’, in which a witch is able to use their own or the life force of the wounded to heal some injuries or illnesses.

They are usually immune to human illnesses, diseases, and deaths. They have a stronger immune system and usually a prolonged life.

Witches usually have a familiar, a magical helper usually in the form of an animal.Familiars help witches with spells, potions, collecting ingredients, and even help protect their witch. Familiars are usually voluntary, but sometimes they are humans that have been cursed to live as an animal and serve the witch. Familiars are usually seen as cats, owls/birds, spiders, and rats.

Testing, curing and killing witches: As many know, Witches have a very long and dark history when it comes to their treatment. So many people who were more than likely to be innocent were tortured and killed in extremely gruesome ways.

Testing:

The ‘swim’ test. The victim was often tied with a heavy rope and weight tied around their waist and then tossed into a river or lake. It’s said that an innocent person would sink, but a with would float and bob a long around the surface. Almost every person subjected to this trial drowned to death.

The Prayer test. It’s said that witches were incapable of reciting the holy scripture. A witch on trial might have been expected to recite a line or two, but were expected to do it perfectly without any hesitation or mess ups. If someone failed at this test, it’s most likely because they were either illiterate, or too nervous to talk. It's said that some people even managed to do it without problem, only to have their success be waved off a ‘a trick of the devil’ and for them to be executed anyway.

All witches were said to have a unique mark somewhere on their body that could be in any shape, form or color. Examiners rarely didn't find a ‘witches mark’ because birthmarks, moles, scars, tattoos and sores could all be seen as being the mark of a witch.

The scratch and poke test. So, witches marks were said to be incapable of pain and bleeding. If an examiner could not find a witches mark, they would produce this test, using specialized or dull needles to poke around the accused bodies until they found a spot that produced the painless, bloodless results they desired.

Pressed. The accused would be lied down, and a wooden board would be put over them, then heavy stones would be placed over it repeatedly until either they confessed to being a witch or they were crushed to death. Either way, they died.

The perfect Weight test. This one wasn't as common as some, but it still existed. Some accused would be weighed against a stack of bibles. If they weighed more than the bible's, they were a witch. If they weighed less than the bible's, they were killed. They had to weigh the exact same amount of the bibles. It was an impossible test to pass.

There was also many tests involving the accused victims, which were always faked as their victims would lie just to have the accused prosecuted.Witch trials were designed to always work in the favor of the ‘victims’, and the ‘Witch’ was almost always killed.

Killing of Witches: Because yeah, those were just the ways that accused were tested for being a witch. If that test didn't kill them, there were many other ways to do it. The most popular ways to kill a witch were:

Hanging

Burned at the staked

Real Life Witches:

Now witchcraft isn't just an old folktale. It’s considered a very real thing in many different cultures. Witchcraft was a real thing that many people actually did study and practice, many people still do. A more modern, well known descendant of witchcraft is the practice or pagan religion of Wicca

Wicca: A more modern pagan religion that while it draws on witchcraft, and has a good deal in common with it, is entirely separate. Many who practice Wicca do not consider themselves a witch, and vice versa.

Wicca is a belief system, and a way of life that focus on peace, harmony and balance with oneself, humanity, and nature.

Wicca is nothing like the old tales of witchcraft. The most stark difference being that old witchcraft was said to be to harm others, while Wicca not only avoids harming others, but strictly forbids the harming of innocent beings.

Wicca is often rather specialized, and changes little features here and there depending on the individual coven or practitioner.

Studying and becoming a Wiccan is not quite as simple as many believe

To find more about the faith(and other sects of witchcraft) I highly suggest browsing around the web, in books, and through any willing Wiccan/witch consultant. Go with multiple sources, not just one or two in order to get the best and most in depth understand of the practice. To be clear, I myself spent many years studying witchcraft and I myself am wiccan.

Witches in Media: Now over the years there have been a lot, and I mean a lot of media that focuses on witches. I’ve tried to arrange for you all a good range of some of the most popular witches in media.

The Craft(Movie, 1996)

Hocus Pocus(Movie, 1993)

The Harry Potter Series(Books and Movies)

The Blair Witch Project(Movie, 1999)

Practical Magic(Movie,1998)

Halloweentown(1998)

The Crucible(Play by Arthur Miller, Movie; 1996)

Kiki’s Delivery Service(1989)

Bewitched(Movie;2005, TV show 1964-1972)

The Witches of Eastwick(1987)

The Wizard of Oz(Movie:1939)

Wicked(Book1995, Musical 2003)

Charmed(TV show 1998-2006)

Charmed(TV show 2018 reboot airing)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer(TV show, 1990s. Now I included this because although it’s not primarily about Witches, one of the main Charcters: Willow, is one of the most famous witches in modern media)

American Horror Story: Coven (TV show)

The Secret Circle(2011)

Sabrina The Teenage Witch(TV show 1996-2003, and there are rumors of a new,darker retake of sabrina coming soon to netflix)

Prompts:

“What are you gonna do, huh? Curse me again? I’ve spent the last three centuries with you, there’s nothing left for you to threaten me with”

“Okay so, I think you gave me the wrong shopping list,?I don’t think the local grocery store carries dragons scales or fairy tears? They might have the pigs tongue though...”

“You love that cat more then you love me” “This cat has been with me, helping and protecting me for the last four hundred and twenty seven years. Of course I love him more then you.”

“We arent all bad you know. Look at me. You know me. I would never, ever hurt you. My magic isnt evil. It doesn't come from anywhere bad or dark. My magic is a gift. It comes from the earth. My magic can help you. Please just trust me about this.”

“You turn one person into a toad one time by accident over six hundred years ago and nobody ever lets you live it down!”

“I’ve been crushed, hung, stabbed, drowned in freezing rivers, crucified and burned alive. So go ahead, try me. Read all the weak, half-assed incantations you want. Call every priest in the state Torture me all you want. You don’t scare me in the slightest. There’s nothing you can do to break me, I have endured worse for centuries.”

Hope you enjoy, and find it useful :)

and if you like my work and would like to support me, consider buying me a coffee?

https://ko-fi.com/I2I1L0Q2

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scruffandyarn · 5 years

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That One Time Scruff Wrote an Avengers Fic (part 9)

That One Time Masterlist

Bucky x enhanced!female!reader

Warnings: profanity, physical pain, medical testing, guilt and fear

Thanks, as always, to these wonderful human beans: @siriuspiggyback (you are the absolute best) @fangirl-library (you kick-ass, wonderful person) @written-loki-imagines (thank you for your fantastical support) @bkwrm523(where would I be without you in my life) @thejamesoldier (you’re amazing and deserve every good thing) @samingtonwilson (you’re super duper awesome) @invisibleanonymousmonsters (thank you so much for all your inspiration) @feelmyroarrrr (this is all your fault, still love you)

@shirukitsune @electraphyng @l0kisbitch @yafriendlyfangirl @marydragneell

Previously: Loki was still sitting in front of you, his arms hovering close to your head. Except, his skin–his skin was blue.

As soon as he saw your eyes open, he dropped his arms and his skin returned to a normal color. “We are done.” He moved to stand.

“Wait!” You grabbed his arm to keep him on the floor with you. His skin was still cool to the touch, but you held on. “What the hell was that? What are you?”

“Explaining my past was never part of our agreement.” He yanked his arm out of your grasp. “You have refused to follow my directions. I will not be helping you.”

“Hold up. Following your directions was never part of our agreement either.” You glared at him, in spite of your protesting head. “We made a deal.”

“Very well,” Loki sighed.

Now: Between the meditation Bruce insisted you start practicing and whatever magic Loki was doing to your brain, it took two days before Loki finally deemed your brain relaxed enough to start with the ‘happy place’ shit. Hell, when you walked out of Loki’s room on that second day, you swore you could almost see the hint of a smile on his face. Of course, that could have been because he had actually trapped you in upholding your end of the oath. But, given that his emotions were leaning towards the positive, you chose to accept that you were making progress.

“Where are you right now?” Loki’s voice seeped into your brain.

“The moon.” In your mind, that’s exactly where you were. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a crater, your feet dangling, as you looked over the barren landscape. “No people, no animals--I’m all by myself.”

Forget the mountains. This was where you needed to live.

But then, you’d be alone.

With nothing but your thoughts.

Forever.

The image around you began to flicker and fade out. “Fuck.” Your eyes popped open and you gasped for breath.

Loki frowned. “What was wrong with that one?”

You supposed you could understand his irritation. First, you’d imagined your cabin in the woods, but then a bear came out of nowhere to eat you. Then you’d tried the bottom of an ocean, only to be met by a giant jellyfish that had wrapped you up in its stinging tentacles. And now, the moon was proving to have its own nightmares.

“Aliens?” You tried, weakly, not wanting to reveal what had actually scared you. Although, there was no point in lying--he was the one person who would know when you were.

For whatever reason, though, he let you play it off. “You Midgardians consider me to be an alien.”

“Yeah, and that’s pretty terrifying all on its own.”

“We are wasting our time if you cannot imagine your brain as a space.” He sighed. “Why don’t we end our session for today? You can spend the afternoon trying to think of a place where nothing will eat you or sting you or whatever about your planet’s moon was scaring you.”

“Fine.” Your head wasn’t feeling so groovy, anyway. Maybe after a nap, you could dink around online to find something that could inspire you as a possible ‘happy place.’

Loki watched you, curious, as you grabbed your tablet from its spot next to you on the floor. After a few quick taps, you knew exactly what you needed to know.

“Guess I’ll be eating a little later.”

“What does that thing tell you?”

“It lets me know if there’s anyone in a particular room I want to go in. It’s set up with F.R.I.D.A.Y. and she can help me avoid people when my head starts to hurt.”

“At least one of you in this forsaken place has a sense of self-preservation.”

“Fuck!” Yet another place you tried to invision had been completely ruined by some unforeseen fear. In your frustration, you took your pillow and chucked it across the room. “What am I doing wrong?”

Nothing was working. Not the heat of the desert. Not a cool, dark cave. Not a boat abandoned in the middle of the water.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“What can I help you with?”

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go to get away from people and scary things?”

“I believe the North Pole is the only place completely devoid of humans.”

“That sounds--”

“Of course, there are many carnivorous animals that live and hunt in the region.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“And with Global Warming, the polar ice caps will soon be melted and succumb to the ocean.”

“Great. Thanks.” You flopped back on your mattress. Just what you needed to have in your brain right now. Polar bears and freezing like Jack in Titanic.

Relief flooded your veins. Something was going on because this feeling wasn’t coming from you. It felt like the greatest weight you never carried was suddenly lifted from your shoulders. God, you could almost believe you could fly.

“What is going on?” You opened your eyes to see Loki staring at you crossly. You pressed your hands to your head, trying to stop the lightheaded dizziness.

“I believe the mission is complete. Which would explain the relief you are feeling.”

The room was starting to spin. “Mission?”

“You are aware you are at the Avengers’ compound, are you not?” He scoffed. “The Avengers seem to have this proclivity towards saving this ridiculous planet, so that is where the Captain, the tin soldier, and the female spy have been for the last week.”

“So, when I got angry--”

““Was when the three of them were first given the assignment.”

“And the fear?”

“That was the day they were supposed to be finished with their mission. It took longer than originally thought.”

“Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense.”

“Can we focus now? The sensations you’re feeling aren’t going to go away with all this frivolous talking.”

“Right.”

“You’re a tough woman to find.”

“Steve.” You forced a smile as you looked up from your tea. “How can I help you?”

He was not sporting any of the bruising you’d spotted on Natasha when you’d passed her in the hall on your way to get something to drink. Maybe she’d taken the brunt of the physical abuse? That didn’t really seem like something he’d do, though. Bucky had told you how Steve had always been a scrapper, even before he got all buff.

Maybe it was a supersoldier thing? That’d be cool to be able to heal from everything quickly. Would that mean you could get over all the headaches and nausea super quick?

“--to Bucky?”

Oh shit. You should probably pay attention. “What?”

“Stop.” He sat down across from you. “Why haven’t you talked to Bucky?”

“Steve--”

“He was healed. He’d been fine for months. One conversation with you and he’s doubting everything.”

Anger was bubbling just below his calm demeanor.

“I didn’t--I didn’t mean to do all that. I promise, it was never my intention to reveal--”

“I get it, I do. But he needs your help. He’s been sitting on this for days, questioning if he’s really in control of his mind. You said you’d meet with him about it.”

“I said I’d try.”

“And have you? Can you honestly say you’ve tried to talk to him about what’s going on in his head?”

Fuck. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head. I can’t get a read on the Winter Soldier. I just know he’s there.”

“Why can’t you just tell Bucky that, then? Why hide from him?”

“He’s gonna want me to fix it and there is nothing I can do!” Your head was pounding and you couldn’t separate Steve’s frustration from your own. “Do you have any idea what it’s like? To see people you love in pain and know there’s nothing you can do to help them?”

“That’s called being human, having empathy.”

“No, not like this. I experience their pain--I live it. Every bit of it. I know what it’s like to lose a brother to cancer. I know what it’s like to have the love of my life sign away twenty years of our life together. I know what it’s like to bury my child. I even know all about how it feels to see my best friend on death’s doorstep because he was always so sick growing up.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you pressed on.

“It’s not just empathy. It’s that ripping out my hair, clawing at my skin, sobbing until I choke heartbreak that drowns me even though I’ve never had a brother die, been married or a mother. I’ve been afraid that I’ll have to watch you die even though my only experience with that is thanks to Bucky’s trip down memory lane when I was sick and he had to carry me to the lab.”

You’d worked yourself up only to realize you had nowhere else to go with your speech. No one ever seemed to really understand the burden you lived with. Pain that wasn’t your own lived and grew inside you. Trying to alleviate it was always considered selfish because it was never yours to begin with, just yours to suffer through in silence.

“Look, I can’t say I get what you deal with, because I don’t. But I think Bucky would. He’s spent the majority of his life the same as you--having absolutely no control. He knows what it’s like to have his mind at the mercy of others. And if you tell him that you can’t fix it, he’s gonna accept that because he knows he can’t fix it either.”

The information you’d read about one James Buchanan Barnes came back to your mind and shame started to trickle in. The life he’d had--the one that HYDRA stole from him and replaced with the worst possible existence you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Yes, you had experienced feelings that were never meant to be yours. You’d never wanted them, but you knew them. But that was it, wasn’t it? You knew those feelings.

Bucky had spend most of his life not knowing. Of having everything ripped from him. Of not feeling anything.

“Fuck.”

You felt like such a whiny little shit. Some superhero you were turning out to be--hiding from your problems, refusing to help someone who just wanted to know what was happening in his head.

Steve should have just punched you in the throat when you started whining and complaining about what you went through.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, when I can, I will.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #Avengers #marvel #fanfic #loki laufeyson #f.r.i.d.a.y #and #Steve Rogers #are present #bucky #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #are mentioned

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talldarkandroguesome · 5 years

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18th of Sun’s Dawn, Morndas

It was a quick trip across the bay to Abah's Landing. A beautiful port town where the desert meets the sea. The deep blue of the sea a stark contrast against the red rocks and pale bronze faces of the buildings. And all along the city are bright crimson and teal colored silk awnings, a multitude of colorful tropical fruits and spices, and people in all manner of dress.

Yet as beautiful as the city and its wares may be, there is a darker side to this place. As I spent my times exploring the maze of shops winding in and out through terraces and alleyways, I kept hearing the same whispers. The city is packed with thieves.

At first, I thought little of it. A port town is often an easy spot for a thief to grab things where people may not notice until they are back aboard a vessel, or where they can quickly slip away across the sea. And yet, as I listened more and more closely, it seems that these are not isolated incidents. There is far too much organization. I have no idea if it is something as disgusting as a branch of the Thieves Guild, or if it is simply groups of criminals working together.

But I had it confirmed when I was walking past one of the squares. By a fountain was an Argonian woman, Odeel-Tul. She was practically in tears as she was begging for coin.

When I asked her what was the matter, she explained that she kept forgetting her lines or saying them wrong and she was not making any money. She complained about how she feared she would starve together. I might have thought her a terribly good actress, if it was not for the roving eyes of another beggar across the way.

Whether I was meant to be a mark, or simply a way to get more coin for her, I asked her about her circumstances. It was not such an unusual story. Formerly stolen to be a slave, she had escaped and boarded a ship heading for anywhere that might be safe and far from Morrowind. She left two years before the Pact signed their ban on slavery.

According to Odeel-Tul, she was trying to get back to her family in Black Marsh. I could sympathize. I told her that in many parts of Black Marsh, organizations have been created using slavery manifests, to help reunite separated families.

She seemed both hopeful and hopeless, saying she just needed to save enough so she could return home. I lead her away to the docks. I spoke with a ship’s captain that was heading south around to Soulrest.

It was a merchant ship and would be taking a slow route there, but it would be a way home. The captain said that he would wait for her to return. I gave her coin to appease whoever was forcing her to do so, so that she might have a chance to collect any belongings. I paid the captain her fare to Soulrest and got Odeel-Tul a warm meal.

I can only hope that she has a safe journey back to Black Marsh and that he family is safe and there to greet her upon her return. I am sure she has many painful memories to deal with. But that is always easier with good company.

As I was continuing to explore, I ran into Qau-dar with the children. I told them about a place known for their performances and accompanied them on their way.

In one of the squares overlooking the harbor, stood a stage with many seats and pergola. There were only a few groups seated around.

An Altmer wearing only silk trousers was holding a torch and blowing on them to make great sprays of flame. Several groups of audience members seemed unimpressed.

It was not that he was unskilled with his performance, it was more that he only seemed to be able to do the one trick. And it just went on and on. I was going to suggest we move along, but I noticed one pair of ladies, who were very interested.

I could already hear Qau-dar muttering under his breath. No doubt he did not appreciate the display of what he considered to be public indecency. So I decided to see what had these ladies of a different opinion.

When I asked what they were so enthralled by, the Nord, a self-proclaimed pirate captain, told me she was enjoying watching the...oh, how did she put it?

A half-dressed sweet roll, I believe were her words?

I could see that little Khes was interested in the fire, as were Lilandril’s wards, so I thought it was time to show everyone watching something new.

So I slipped up on stage while the Altmer was shooting off a bout of flame and mimicked him, using my own fire from out of my own lips.

Immediately, the crowd seemed in better humors. A peel of laughter went up.

The Altmer turned to see me and looked startled, telling me it was dangerous for me to be so close to him. I held up my hand and made a torch shape out of fire and copied the pose and expression he was giving me.

He seemed very unsure of what to do with me. So I asked him in a voice that the audience could hear, if it might be safer if we had someone to assist me. Then I made the shape of myself, holding the torch with me.

More laughter from those watching. The Altmer could sense he was being upstaged. A victory.

The Nord pirate yelled out that I should remove my shirt to make sure it did not get burnt. I thanked her for her foresight and turned to remove the tunic. I knew Qau-dar would be upset, so I made sure to tie my trousers over my waist. For modesty.

The fire-breather then tried to ignore me, preparing to shoot more flames. I made the shape of a chicken on a spit, so that when he shot his flames, it looked as though he was roasting the chicken.

I could see he was getting frustrated with me, so I made the fire into my own visage and had it play at apologizing profusely.

Then, not wishing to annoy Qau-dar with my need to perform, me and my flame self did a short dance and then bowed, leaving the stage. I could feel the judgement in Qau-dar’s eyes, though I suspect that the corners of his lips were turned up in merriment.

We continued through the town and I warned Qau-dar that this city had a large number of people who wished to prove their cleverness by taking things off you. That seemed to delight him and I have no doubt that he took the opportunity to return the favor when the chance presented itself.

I purchased more items, some that he mentioned he liked. I also asked what sorts of items might please each of his spouses and made my purchases accordingly, all to be delivered to the ship.

I did end up seeing the pirate. Tolgredda I believe her name was. She and several others were at a busy tavern and they invited me for a drink. It was clear what sort of notions this captain had in mind, and I allowed her to indulge for the cost of a pair of boots she had in her room. They were unusual and I think, despite not being particularly practical for those not on a ship, might be of interest to others.

I was both sad and relieved to move on to the open ocean. Even with the winds picking up, it will be several days until our next port. I hope that Qau-dar does not work himself into too bad a state.

#ESO #TES #Dunmer #Khajiit #RP #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

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bravevulnerability · 6 years

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A/N: Continuation of ‘love and some verses’: chapter 54

“Insert for Cuffed: Castle and Beckett were put in separate rooms and Beckett banged through the wall that released the tiger and Castle has to listen to her screams as she’s being eaten.”

(Or for those who haven’t read it: an AU for 4x10, ‘Cuffed’, in which Beckett is brutally attacked by a tiger.)

For Alex and Evan.

Moisture seeps through his shirt, wets his skin with heat, but the tears leaking onto his chest are far better than the spill of her blood.

“Kate,” he whispers, combing his fingers through her hair. She should be lying flat, the front of her body to the hospital bed with her back horizontal and exposed. But she just kept staring at him with her cheek pressed to the starched sheet, her eyelids heavy but unable to fall closed.

“Crawl in with me,” she said, her voice no more than a rasp but still leaving little room for argument.

He rose from the chair and slid into her hospital bed without having to move her except to ease beneath her, mimicking their position in the freezer only forty-eight hours ago. She hissed and pierced her bottom lip with her teeth, but continued to shift until they were chest to chest and he could feel the ragged throb of her heart working against his sternum.

Her hospital gown slipped and fell apart, the ties in the back already done up loosely to avoid risking aggravation to her wounds - open wounds with a polymicrobial infection transferred from the rip of a tiger’s claws through her flesh. Her doctor was treating the infection first before they sewed up the five deep lacerations decorating Kate’s back, but leaving the wounds open, exposed, was agony.

“I’m okay,” she murmurs, drawing one of her arms a little tighter against her chest and easing one of her thighs between his.

He swallows hard.

She’s practically draped atop of him and he should be used to it by now, especially after spending hours with her lying over him in the freezer while they waited for rescue. But it’s different now. They survived, are no longer facing the prospect of imminent death - he expected them to revert to their usual post-survival method of not talking about things.

I’m glad it ends with you.

Not that much talking has necessarily been going on. Kate has been in nonstop pain. For all he knows, maybe she’s just delirious from it all and the heating pad of his body beneath her helps, provides her at least a hint of comfort.

He brushes his lips to the top of her head, savors the delusion while he can.

“Is the medication helping at all?”

“Helps. Just feel bad,” she sighs against his throat. Her fingers curl in the hoodie from the NYPD that Esposito brought over for him. He shoved the shirt he was wearing into the trashcan of a hospital bathroom, the fabric stiff and unsalvageable from the seep of her blood. It took him at least five minutes to scrub it from his skin with paper towels and hot water from the bathroom sink. “Can’t sleep without thinking of it.”

“I know.” He can’t either, can’t close his eyes without seeing her cornered by a wild animal, the vibrant drench of her own blood across her clothes. Can’t stop feeling the gut wrenching fear of losing her. “But it’ll get better, especially once they stitch you up in the morning.”

Kate hums against his chest, her cheek sealed over his heart and her tears at his collarbone. “You okay?”

“Me?” he huffs, massaging the tips of his fingers along her scalp. “You’re the one who nearly got ripped apart by a tiger.”

Her fingers tighten in the fabric of his jacket. “Castle.”

“As long as you’re okay, I’m okay,” he answers, scaling his thumb along her ear.

“I’m okay,” she whispers, tilting her head, just enough to graze her lips along the exposed skin of his throat. His eyes flutter closed. “We’re both okay.”

“Kate, I-”

“Should’ve told you sooner,” she mumbles, mouth still brushing maddeningly over the cords of his neck. “Not waited for a tiger to force it out.”

Castle’s brow furrows and his thumb strokes along her temple in question.

“Forced what out of you?”

She sighs and lifts her head, whimpering at the ripple of movement it sends spiraling down her spine.

“Kate, hey, don’t-”

“Need to see you for this,” she insists, the lines of her face pinched tight with pain, but her eyes burning gold. He doesn’t fight her on it, but he does lower his hand to curve at her nape, helping support the weight of her skull. “Need to tell you-”

“Tell me,” he prompts. “Before the pain in your back makes you pass out on me.”

She huffs, the corners of her mouth twitching with wry amusement. He lifts his other hand from the safe spot of her hip, raising it to dust his thumb to the hint of a smile.

“Can’t handle the dead weight?”

He scoffs, but then she turns her head, catches the pad of his thumb with a press of her lips, a quick scrape of her teeth. He’s almost positive she can feel his heart stop beneath hers.

“Sorry,” she whispers, her grin turning rueful, but Castle shakes his head.

“No, don’t be sorry, just - I just don’t know what this means. What we’re doing.”

“I know,” she murmurs, her voice so soft. He doesn’t think he ever associated Kate with that word, soft, but since her shooting, she’s allowed him to see the gentler side to her, the vulnerable pieces. God knows she couldn’t hide it from him in these last few hours. He hasn’t left her bedside and she hasn’t asked him to go. “And it’s probably bad timing, always bad timing. I’m always dying-”

“Kate,” he chokes, his hand clutching at the back of her neck.

“I’ve got a bullet hole in my chest, back ripped open from a tiger - I don’t want to know what comes next, all I do know is that I need to tell you before it does-”

“Nothing comes next,” he argues vehemently. “Nothing is going to-”

“Castle, hush,” she growls, her nails piercing through the material of his hoodie. “All I’m saying is that we don’t know what’s going to happen, how much time we have, but I do know what I want.” She unfurls her fingers at his chest, flattens her palm over the bones of his sternum. “And I’m tired of finding reasons to back off because I’m afraid or not ready or both. I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He’s having a hard time breathing.

“I’m so sick of waiting,” she sighs, her lips curving into a frown that could be considered a pout, voice edging closer to a whine than he’s ever heard. And oh, if he thought soft Kate Beckett was adorable, whiny Kate Beckett is absolutely precious. “I just want - I want to be with you. To love you back.”

“You - you do?” he gets out, just barely. But Kate is looking at him with hope and apology in her eyes.

Should’ve told you sooner.

Ah. And to love him back.

So she did hear him. She heard him and she… she feels the same way?

“You love me?” he murmurs, still breathless, but a little less pathetic.

Some of the apprehension slips from her gaze and she offers a tentative nod of her head, still wincing with it.

“Yeah, I do,” she whispers, shy. He’s never seen her shy either, not like this - bottom lip between her teeth, lashes hiding her eyes, cheeks gaining a touch of color. “I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“No.” He slides his fingers from her neck to return to her hair, submerging in the locks and scratching lightly at her scalp. Her back must be on fire. “I told you I loved you while you were bleeding out at Montgomery’s funeral,” he says grimly. “It was… a lot. But I meant it, Kate. I should’ve said it sooner, I-”

“Kiss me,” she murmurs, impatience brimming in her eyes as they flicker down to his lips and kickstarting his heart. “If I could do it myself, I’d shut you up with my mouth, so-”

He cranes his neck to catch her lips, the chuckle in his throat dying beneath the press of her mouth, the familiar caress of a kiss he’s been dreaming about for nearly a year now.

She sighs into his mouth, paints her tongue to the seam of his lips, and almost makes him forget about the gaping wounds down her back. But then her spine shudders and her body tenses over his and he knows they have to stop.

“I can’t wait to do this right,” she grumbles, burying her nose against his cheek. “Without the tiger.”

A laugh puffs from his lips and he adjusts beneath her, returning his other hand to her hip, until he feels her slowly sinking back into the cove of him.

“How bad?” he murmurs, dusting his lips at her forehead. His fingers have automatically resumed their comb through her hair and he can feel her listing heavier against him, threatening to drift.

“I don’t want any more drugs.” Which means she probably needs more drugs. “I’m okay for now. Good with you.”

Soft, whiny, and shy - all little glimpses of her he’s never had the privilege of seeing before, but this one is his favorite. Because she’s in love with him too, and she’s even more beautiful when she lets him see it.

Kate touches her lips to his throat once more before lowering her cheek back to the resting place of his chest. His heart stumbles beneath the lasting impression of her kiss, caught in his throat, exalting with joy and relief, exhilaration.

“I love you,” he whispers, even though it’s no longer a secret, and swears he feels her lips curl against his chest.

#castle fanfiction #castle au #kate beckett #richard castle #4x10 #castle #prompt #mine

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classywastelandbread-blog · 6 years

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Honored Spirits Bonus Chapter - Intelligence

Not my best work by far - this is just something incredibly stupid that I wrote out today because I got frustrated when I found so many movies with stupid science. It was also something I wanted to toy around with a bit but will obviously be going about this in a different way....later.

Sorry in advance for all the errors.

There was widespread debate throughout the base regarding the intelligence of the Shimada dragons.

On one hand, they were clearly smart, though if they were smarter than a young child or perhaps a particularly clever cat or dog remained to be seen and proven. The Shimadas claimed that the dragons spoke, though in a way that was beyond what the rest of the team could hear – directly to their minds, in a form of telekinesis.

It certainly explained a lot as without this theory it would seem that short of actually being in combat (or combat practice) both brothers had extremely short attention spans – a very drastic change that would otherwise be considered extremely out of character.

However, this theory could not be proven short of brain scans and the base currently did not have such sophisticated equipment. The brothers, of course, would consent to no such thing regardless.

Another theory for the apparent “speech” of the dragons and the brothers’ translations was simply the reading of body language. After all, most of the queries are very simple and could have been derived from the careful observation of the direction of the dragons’ eyes and the subtle gestures that formed their expressions.

This was the current working theory of Winston and, surprisingly, Soldier 76.

There was, after all, only so far their suspension of disbelief could take them. For their part, most of the team seemed to accept the vague explanations given to them regarding the speech and intelligence of the dragons.

During a rare moment when they found the dragons separate from their masters, Soldier 76 and Winston decided to perform a little test. First was calling them by name and requesting something specific to test their language comprehension.

Soldier 76 called for Udon and asked it to pass him the sugar off the table; staring straight into his mask as if it could see right through it, Udon kicked the small tin jar off the table and ambled away. When Winston decided to conduct his test, he asked Ramen to bring him the jar of peanut butter and a banana; the dragon glanced at him, then at the requested items, and decided to ignore him. Repeated requests to Ramen and the other dragons received similar results.

Their next attempt was a simpler test of comprehension. They created small shapes from colored pieces of paper from the ubiquitous craft bin and laid them out in front of the dragons. Or rather, laid them out on the table and spent an hour trying to catch just one of them to subject it to their comprehension test. By the time they did, they returned to the table to find that Ana had cleaned up the paper, annoyed that it had been left out. Udon, clearly unhappy with the way it was being held, bit Winston hard enough to make him let it go and disappeared into a cloud of mist that quickly dissipated.

Hanzo firmly asked them that night at dinner to not torture their dragons as it was making them very upset. Unsurprisingly, McCree backed up his request as he was quite attached to the blue dragons (and their owner). Perhaps most surprising was the rest of the team’s agreement with the request – they were all attached to the dragons as well and strangely enough no one (not even Dr. Zeigler or Mei, who were both scientists) questioned the brothers’ claims that the dragons could speak.

They agreed to cease…for the moment.

It was days before anyone saw the dragons again and in that time, Winston and Soldier 76 realized the extent that they had upset them. Even when they began wandering the base again, they skittered away from the two of them and refused outright to be in the same room with them without at least one other witness.

Surprisingly…it stung. Especially to Winston who could sympathize. But the dragons’ fear (or distaste) of them was ignored for one event that they clearly seemed to enjoy: team movie night.

Team movie night had started, surprisingly, with the Shimadas. It of course spread to McCree (who everyone, save perhaps a certain Shimada brother, could tell was sweet on the archer) and gradually expanded. Everyone that could make it did and they piled into the largest of the rec rooms to watch and drink together.

Movies were picked well in advance by one person attached to a rotating schedule - it prevented hours of discussion and argument over the movie choice and let things move much smoother in that regard. Unfortunately it made for some interesting choices of movie but no one had argued too hard against it (yet)...at least in a voice that the rest of the team could hear.

Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

To everyone’s surprise, McCree’s selection wasn’t a Western, but in fact...well, it wasn’t much better in anyone’s opinion.

Udon especially didn’t like it, but Udon didn’t seem to like a lot of things anyway. It grumbled and bobbed its head where it and Soba were tangled in the joined laps of Hanzo and McCree. That is impossible, it said loftily and Hanzo sighed, taking a deep drink from his beer.

To McCree’s surprise, even Soba seemed agitated. If the contents of the box are highly magnetized, then why is nothing else affected?

Trying to sooth them, he scratched gently at Soba’s chin. It bobbed its head at him but leaned ever so slightly into his caresses. Though its mood clearly didn’t dissipate, it at least stopped digging its talons into McCree’s leg and fell more still. Its head still bobbed and it kept flicking its tongue out as if it could lick up the faint mist of floating gunpowder on the screen. In Hanzo’s lap, Udon’s whiskers and tail flicked like an agitated cat’s.

“This is dumb,” Hana complained. “Why isn’t anything else in the warehouse affected by the magnets?”

“Shush, you,” McCree said with a laugh. “It’s only a movie.”

Soba tossed its head. She’s right! Everything should be feeling the effects! It must be a strong magnetic force to make gunpowder behave that way. Also, some gunpowders do not contain metal compounds that would be attracted or repelled by a magnet!

Also, Udon grumbled, flicking its tongue out in agitation. How strong is this magnetic force that all the way across the warehouse it can so strongly attract probably-not-actually-metal particles?

The dragons tossed their head though Soba quieted when McCree shushed it gently. “What’s gotten into you, darlin’?”

I’m not a “darlin’”, Soba grumbled but subsided slightly. I just do not appreciate the scientific inaccuracies in this movie.

McCree glanced at Hanzo. “It has some concerns about the science,” the archer said simply, taking another long sip of his beer. When the dragons had settled in for the movie, their chosen perches had planned ahead and kept a small cooler of beer on the floor in front of them.

“I wonder what kind of magnetic force is being exerted on the rest of the warehouse,” Winston wondered from his spot in the corner. “And if the magnetic force is so strong, then perhaps those that were in charge of this storage facility would have insulated the crate so it wouldn’t affect anything that was potentially sensitive.”

Soba bobbed its head seemingly in agreement. Not to mention, Udon added with a trace of a growl in its voice. The soldier that allowed the caravan to break because he wanted to race the civilians. I would have killed him, myself. He clearly cannot follow orders or proper protocol.

Snorting, Hanzo took another sip of his beer. “Are we doing a drinking game with the noodles?” Lucio asked with a laugh, clearly guessing that Hanzo’s drinking was for that reason. “Drink every time they have a snide comment? Or do they like the movie?”

“You’d die,” Hanzo said shortly. “They’re not happy with some of the science in it.”

As Hanzo spoke, McCree thought he heard a whisper - we are not noodles. We are not to be eaten - but brushed it off as wishful thinking. He took a sip of his beer and stuck his tongue out at Soba when it glanced up at him. The dragon tried to smile it seemed and then stuck its long tongue out at McCree.

“This movie is set a long time ago,” Soldier 76 said gruffly from the corner he had backed himself into. He slouched further into his chair when everyone glanced at him. “Back when they were using only projectile-based weaponry. However, having metal projectiles doesn’t mean that they were all magnetic.”

McCree grunted in agreement. “Peacekeeper’s bullets have brass and aluminum casing, neither of which are magnetic. The gunpowder might be a little magnetic but I’m pretty sure it’s not.

Traces of tin are slightly paramagnetic but the bismuth in it is diamagnetic, he thought he heard someone say. Looking around, he found that no one but Soba was meeting his eyes and he smiled, rubbing his knuckles along the dragon’s jaw. It closed its eyes and leaned into his caresses.

The discussion ended and they continued to watch the movie. Udon’s twitching tail slapped McCree in the shoulder until Soba’s head snapped out and bit it; the dragons hissed at each other and then the movie.

Those soldiers should all be shot, Udon snarled as Indiana Jones ran across the rafters. How terrible their aim is!

Hanzo drank deeply from his beer and McCree obligingly reached down for another. Seeing what he was doing, Soba twisted and did so, picking up the new bottle by the cap held gently in its jaws. McCree scratched Soba’s nuchal crest in thanks, popped the cap off with his metal thumb. As he was handing the beer to Hanzo, he caught sight of Winston and Soldier 76 peering at him curiously.

Or rather, Soba.

Seeming to sense the stare as well, Soba twisted its head and hissed inaudibly. It tucked its head under McCree’s serape with a grumble that he could almost hear. “It’s alright,” he said to it softly as Udon and Hanzo glanced over. “I gotcha.” After a long moment of cuddling with McCree and purring beneath his gentle petting, it wiggled its head back out to watch the movie.

They all watched as Indiana Jones climbed into a lead-lined fridge, rode a nuclear shockwave, and emerged (relatively) unharmed. Unsurprisingly, everyone immediately protested and with a laugh, McCree paused the movie so they wouldn’t miss any other ridiculousness.

NO! Udon boomed and McCree twitched.

THAT IS NOT HOW THAT HAPPENS, Soba agreed.

“The probability of anyone surviving a nuclear blast at such close range is ridiculous!” Winston said.

The dragons shook their heads violently enough that McCree and Hanzo had to lean back or spill their beers. When his hand was free, Hanzo began chugging his beer and McCree’s brows rose in awe.

(He tried not to focus on the gentle bob of the man’s Adam’s apple but...he was a weak, weak man for Hanzo.)

Around them, the discussion (audible and inaudible) continued.

“There is no padding on the inside of the fridge,” Angela pointed out. “The forces exerted on his body would have crushed every bone!”

Mei nodded. “There is also the fact that the refrigerator is intact,” she pointed out. “The forces to lift it fully airborne and propel it at the front of the shockwave would likely be so immense that it was crushed.”

“Look at the houses,” Soldier 76 pointed out, to everyone’s surprise. “They immediately crumpled and everyone’s faces burned off, even if they were mannequins. What kind of heat would be needed to do that?”

Udon threw its head around, very clearly agitated. Lead has a melting point of 327.46 degrees Celsius, it grumbled.

It boils at 1749 degrees Celsius, Soba added, bobbing its head as well. Even thermite reactions well exceed that, much less a nuclear explosion!

Hanzo continued to drink and wordlessly, McCree bent to grab him another bottle; Soba scrambled to drape itself over and around his neck and shoulders and used its new perch to express its disapproval with my head bobbing, its dewlap extended.

The temperature of the explosion can reach the temperatures found in the interior of the sun, Udon snarled. It would more than simply melt the refrigerator!

“I believe something like 50% of deaths at the atomic bombing in Hiroshima was caused by burns,” Angela added. “Second degree burns on over 30% of the body could lead to serious shock and will be fatal unless immediate and specialized medical care is provided.”

Yes! Udon agreed with a snarl. A small detonation of a nuclear weapon can cause third-degree burns as close as five miles away. How close is this “Indiana Jones” to “site zero” of the explosion? What is the size of the explosion? If it is more than a single megaton then there is absolutely no way that he walks out of it alive!

Hanzo traded the full beer for his empty bottle with a muttered word of thanks. “Talkative?” McCree asked, holding very still as Soba continued to perch and bob its head on his shoulders.

“Very...opinionated,” Hanzo replied, glancing down at the bottle but thankfully not drinking.

SCIENCE IS NOT AN OPINION, McCree thought he heard someone say but the only ones with a voice like that, Winston and Soldier 76, were arguing about the shockwave and flashblindness that would have occurred to the soldiers trying to escape the blast.

Hanzo winced as if he could hear the voice too. He leaned into McCree’s shoulder with a tired sigh.

If the refrigerator was apparently so safe, then why aren’t there more flying around? Soba demanded. And there are no latches on the inside of the door - how did he keep it shut? What about the radiation he is now bathed in?

Udon threw its head around. I can’t take this anymore, it grumbled and disappeared. McCree, who had been watching, was interested to note that the tattoo on Hanzo’s arm did not glow or fill in with color. Perhaps it needed both to do so?

“You gonna stick around?” McCree asked Soba who butted its head into McCree’s hand. It clambered down his front and tucked its head under the edge of McCree’s serape. “Does it hurt you?” McCree asked Hanzo who was looking at Soba and McCree with an odd look on his face. “If one returns but the other doesn’t?”

The archer shook his head. “Not really,” he said simply and left it at that. He tapped his beer against McCree’s and they both took a sip while the scientists argued around them. Soba’s tail continued to twitch.

In the end, it took nearly five hours to watch the entire movie because all of the scientists - and “science-sensitive” as McCree mentally called Soldier 76 - couldn’t stop arguing about the elements of the movie.

Jurassic Park

The choice of Jurassic Park was most likely done as a nod to the dragons, considering how similar to large lizards they appeared to be. They seemed into it as well, bobbing their heads in a way that Hanzo explained was in excitement.

That is...until the group took the tour that explained how the dinosaurs were created.

Hanzo wordlessly reached for his beer.

THE DNA IS TOO OLD FOR THIS! Udon boomed.

Ramen’s claws skittered across the table as it scrambled toward the blue dragons. Perhaps not, it argued. The mosquito is preserved in amber.

That doesn’t stop the natural process of decay, Soba argued. In theory yes, the blood itself is preserved but the enzymes in the DNA that would lead to the cloning process would simply be too old to be usable.

Udon bobbed its head, twisting to look around at Soba. I had not realized that DNA decayed.

Smugly, Soba bobbed its head. Yes! There is also the idea of how old dinosaurs are in human time. To any of us, their concept of “a long time” - in this case over 65 million years ago would be nothing but to the decay of DNA it is far too long! DNA and organic matter have - compared to rocks and many other inorganic minerals and crystals - a very short half-life.

So by that logic the DNA, whatever had been viable in the mosquito when it was fossilized in amber, has decreased by half until the amount is negligible, Udon concluded.

Precisely, Soba agreed. I heard that this film is actually based on a book - Hanzo! Can we get the book?

All three of the dragons twisted around to look at the archer, bobbing their heads excitedly. “Very well,” Hanzo said tiredly, reaching for his phone to order it. “They want to read the book as well,” he explained to McCree and Hana, who watched the dragons’ excitement.

Why did dinosaurs go extinct? Ramen asked curiously. I don’t think I ever learned that.

Perhaps you weren’t paying attention, Udon grumbled. You and Genji had never been particularly studious.

Ramen bobbed its head with an almost smug look. You were the most studious of all of us and yet you don’t know either!

I know that! Soba exclaimed. They went extinct because of what is called the K-T, or Cretaceous-Tertiary extinction event! It’s also sometimes called the Cretaceous-Paleogene event but I think K-T sounds better. It’s named for the boundary in geologic time where an unusually thick layer of the element iridum is found.

Udon tipped its head to the side. Iridium? What’s so special about that?

It’s not commonly found in the crust, Soba explained. In fact, many would say that it doesn’t occur naturally at all on Earth but that’s not necessarily true. There are only two naturally-occurring isotopes, but it is produced albeit in very small quantities - relatively, of course.

Curious, Genji leaned closer which drew the attention of the rest of the room. “What’s so special about the iridium?”

Since it is very rarely produced by the crust, geologists weren’t sure why there was such a thick layer of it, Soba explained. It also occurred - for the most part - worldwide at the same boundaries between geologic time: at the end of the Cretaceous period. Which led two scientists named Alvarez to wonder why. They proposed a theory that the iridium was left behind as a result of an impact of a cosmic body.

“There’s no iridium in here,” Winston said curiously as Soba was speaking. “But they are talking about DNA that should have become obsolete in the time period between the death of the dinosaurs and the events of the movie.”

“No,” Hanzo explained. “Soba is talking about the extinction of the dinosaurs and what killed them.”

Winston frowned. “Well, I’d like to know,” McCree said before the scientist could say anything. “I was always told it was a meteor.”

“Yes,” Mei agreed shyly from her corner. “Suddenly the comment about the iridium makes sense! Some of the very old ice cores have traces of iridium very deep down in the ice. It’s rare to find in the Earth’s crust but it’s highly abundant in celestial bodies. If there is a particularly large impact, then the iridium will be present - usually only locally to the impact site - in high enough concentrations and thick enough layers to prove it.”

McCree scratched his head thoughtfully as Hanzo took a deep drink from his beer. “So the dinosaurs were killed by a meteor,” he said. “Must’ve been a really big one.”

“Not so large,” Mei said immediately and paused, looking at the dragons. “But...I guess I should let Soba explain, right?” She smiled nervously at the creature who bobbed its head cheerfully at her. McCree wondered if she knew what its expression meant.

He wondered what it said that he could.

The Chicxulub crater in the Gulf of Mexico is about 180-kilometers wide, Soba said as Genji translated. The impact threw up debris into the sky which altered the climate worldwide - days grew darker and it had a cascading effect as it killed plants then the herbivores that ate them, and so on. This is highly thought to be the primary reason for the extinction event, but the climate change was also likely helped along by other factors such as volcanic eruptions or sea level change - potentially even both.

McCree noticed the prominent frown on Winston’s face but said nothing - it was thoughtful but not annoyed and he hoped that this proof of intelligence was enough to get him to stop hunting the dragons to prove or disprove it.

There were a few other questions but they were all once more distracted by the movie. They rewound to catch up with the parts they missed and the dragons returned to their chosen perches: Soba to McCree’s lap, Udon to Hanzo’s, and Ramen to where it was draped over and around Hana’s shoulders.

Leaning down carefully so he wouldn’t dislodge Soba, McCree reached for another beer for himself and Hanzo. The dragon batted his hand away and chose the bottles itself and was rewarded with scritches. When the bottle caps were pried off by his mechanical hand, McCree gave them to Soba who toyed with them in its awkward claws. They weren’t too good for grasping things like a hand was, but they were malleable enough to hold and manipulate larger things.

Lately Soba had been trying to flip a coin over its talons the way it had seen McCree do and it was adorable to watch it try to flip the bottle cap in such a way. He stole back the second one and used his metal hand to flatten the sides to make it easier; Soba leaned up and nudged him in the chin in thanks with its blunt nose.

At their side, McCree noted Hanzo’s gentle flush but didn’t say anything to the other man to preserve his dignity - so he told himself.

Later on as the credits roll he thinks he hears someone say, the science may be wrong but it was a very good movie. I think the book would be a good read too. There was no one else awake save Soldier 76, McCree, and the dragons - even Hanzo was asleep - and the voice definitely wasn’t the old veteran.

The Core

“They seem to have a lot to say about it,” McCree whispered to Hanzo, leaning just a little more into the archer’s space.

Hanzo snorted into his beer. “Don’t ask,” he said dryly and McCree tried not to be distracted the way Hanzo’s lips wrapped around his beer. From the wicked gleam in Hanzo’s eyes, he noticed. When he was sure that no one was noticing, Hanzo dropped the hand between them to very gently brush the palm of McCree’s flesh hand.

“Yer killin’ me,” McCree muttered and Hanzo’s coquettish smile dropped in favor of a real one. He leaned against McCree’s side, tucking himself further under the cowboy’s serape.

If their fingers tangled together between them, then no one but the two of them (and the dragons, most likely) needed to know.

Here, have a few interesting articles about nuclear explosions, dinosaur DNA, (and Indiana Jones):

Burns

Fireball

Thermal Radiation

How Indiana Jones may die in the stupid fridge scene

Can extinct animals be “brought back to life”?

Bringing dinosaurs back to life and the other issues with reconstructing dino-DNA

Inspired by Those Engineering Friends I have that always need to Science the Heck out of things...I’m one to talk because once you start talking about rocks I get excited.

#Bonus chapter #Mchanzo #Jesse McCree #hanzo shimada #the noodles are intelligent - everyone is surprised for some reason #I'm sorry #errors abound I'm sure #DC writes #Honored Spirits

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