#⧓. ─── SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE // [FICTIONAL COMPANY] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dayslynthesix · 3 years ago

Text

i think it's missing something really important at the Ferrari garage: a Brazilian mechanical engineer, so let's work

after the double failure in azerbaijan, mattia went to his last resources to bring the brilliant engineer a colleague indicated him, what he wasn't expecting was for his first drive fell for the girl, or the friendship she built with almost all the paddock

ps: im so happy about the p5

ps2: i was waiting canada gp to post this one because i was so afraid about the bad luck

charles leclerc x fem!reader

pronouns: she/her/hers

an: as i said before: english it's not my first language, so be patient with me, please, and nothing write here is real, its juts fictional

Welcome to the team | Charles Leclerc imagine | part 1

y/n was having one of those days, her boss was being an asshole with her ever since day one and today she decided to put a final dot at the shitty behavior he was putting with her. she quite, pretty and simple, she packed it up and went back to new york, a place she should have never left, after four and a half years at the best institute in the us and close to a year and a half working in some stupid company in las vegas she was done. y/n was seriously considering coming back to her home country, she missed brazil. what y/n wasn't expecting was a phone call from one of her mentors from college, anna only call her if it's big news.

"anna?" y/n answered the phone

"hey you, it's been a while, how are you?" anna asked on the other side of the line

"fine?" it wasn't an affirmation

"ok, you know im terrible with small talk, i heard you quite your job back in nevada and I'm calling to see if you had any interest working with ferrari in formula one?" the coffee you were drinking was spilled into your notebook

"am i what?"

"ferrari job, they need a new mechanical engineer and i suggested you because, well, i was your mentor and im pretty good at my job, but i can't switch places, mercedes would hate me for that and im not opening hands here, so i put your name on the table, and the board liked you"

"you're saying that they want me to work with them?"

"yesss! you just need to sign the contract, read first and sign latter, i emailed you"

"i think you got all fixed, gonna read it and maybe I'll say yes"

"that's my girl, and it will be nice having you around, i feel pretty lonely being one of the only women engineer here, think about it. i had to go, bye"

ok, you were definitely not expecting that. you liked the contract, but if your putting your hands inside the next world champion's motor car, you would be the only one doing that, you can handle the mistakes you commit, but you cannot handle others people mistakes falling into your account. you take a quick look into the contract and sign it, sending it back and less than 5 minutes later you've received another email with all the data you'll need to fix the car, a pair of tickets to montreal and a phone call from mattia and his lawyer (this wasn't that funny) but it was how y/n end up inside the first new york-montreal flight.

CANADIAN GP WEEK

y/n arrived in canadadian lands three days before the team, she had time to work through the paperwork and study the data they send her, the first recommendation she would make was to them to switch the whole block, the motor and everything. the cars and the engineers arrived the next day and the whole team the day after, she was getting along with the mechanics and they were able to full fix carlos car, charles, on the other hand, they were having trouble with the time gap, he would practice with the old motor and switch everything for qualy and the race. y/n spent the whole qualy day and night working on the hood, people got in and out of the garage, they gave her full time and space to operate the miracle they were saying she could.

it was late at night when charles got into the garage and sit down on the firts surface he saw, he stood there for a few moments, waiting for her to get out of under the car.

"hi you" charles said and y/n flinched

"dear lord, you scared the hell out of me, i could have killed you" she said with one hand on her chest, heavy breaths and sweat on her neck and hairline were evident

"with the screwdriver?" he asked and pointed to the red tool she had in hands

"of course not, with my karate skills"

"them im in seriously danger" he chuckle

"you bet you are"

"i didn't want to scare you, sorry about that, i was just passing by and decided to introduce myself" he's brake accent were really cute

"you don't have to, i know who you are and you don't need to worry, im taking good care of your car"

"but i don't know who you are, and it's rude not to introduce myself to people" he said and a small expression mark was visible in his forehead

"ok, I'm y/n, y/n y/l/n, your new engineer for the next 24 hours" you said and went to hold his hands, but quickly stopped, your hands were all dirty with grease and residue from the screws and residue from the engine, you gave him a small smile

"im charles, what about the next 24 hours?"

"well, i made a deal, if the car works good tomorrow then im staying, other way im leaving, if im not putting anything more in the team i don't see a reason to stay here"

"then i think we should hope the results. anna always says nice things about you so i think the team is in good hands"

"anna likes to flatter herself because she was the one who taught me everything i know"

"even with the car issues mercedes is doing fine, so she can show herself" charles said and it was the first time his eyes sparked, it could be because of the lights, but they were a beautiful shade of green

"she has a big ego, i hope lewis and george can handle that" y/n turned back to the tool rack

"you're not from here..." charles started in a no subtle way to make a conversation

"im not, im brazilian, i moved to boston when i was 17 because of college and never went back" he got closer "why do you ask?"

"you have a nice way to pronounce the s, it's cute, anyway, it was nice to meet you y/n, hope to see you around tomorrow"

"you will" you gave him a small wink and he became ferrari red, you keep working with the tools and the car until nearly the sunrise.

RACE DAY

you knew the race was gona be tough, alonso in one of the most difficult drivers to surpass, but carlos was pretty confident so if he was confident, you are confident, about the motor change, charles would be starting p19, it wasn't good, the way would be long and the strategy needed to work perfectly - which it didn't, charles was able to race more than 35 laps with the hard tires, he left from p19 to p6 and the pitstop put him back in p12, it was already frustrating watch those things on tv, in person was 100 times worst, but he went for it and put himself back in p6 and finished p5; it was a great result, the motor worked fine and he finished the race, carlos tried really hard to surpass max, but red bulls car was better, and if y/n were staying, she would work a lot in that car and make them look better on the straight lines.

y/n went to congratulate charles after the press, it was easy to find him, he was sitting inside the garage, writing something in his journal, he looked less unhappy than earlier, as someone who takes a lot on yourself, you knew he was struggling a little bit, hoping for a better result, he didn't see you coming

"hey you" you repeated the gesture from the day before, he raised his eyes meeting your own

"hey", he closed the small journal and paid full attention on you

"so... i came to see you and obviously congratulate you, it wasn't perfect, but with the things we gave you you did the best you could, and also ask you how the car feels, if we need to make more adjustments and stuff..." you were playing with your fingers; you never got nervous to speak with someone, but charles had something on him, probably the race suit, that make him less approachable that moment

"well, i appreciate that, honestly. thank you for coming here. and the car was nice, nothing wrong, it feels good to finish the race"

"and im sorry to interrupt your moment" you said and started to walk away

"you didn't" he stand up, you never pictured him as a tall person because you weren't a short one, but he looked so tall and his presence inside the room was so noticeable that got you an little overwhelming, again, the suit was notable "so the motors working today means that you're coming with us back to italy?"

"uh... yeah, i think so... i don't know, but probably yes, i didn't speak to mattia yet" and part of you was afraid the car died in lap 38 or something

"it was in the contract, right? the motor work and you stay" he think your accent its cute, but you could hear him talk the whole day, you had seen interviews, but in person was so graceful and you could understand him so clearly, he was so talking expressive... "y/n?" he called, taking you away of the moment

"yup, it's in the contract, so, anyway, see you, congratulations and nice race, bye" you walked away, nearly run into someone's chest

"hello, y/n. i was looking for you" mattia said with a smile

"mattia, hey, what's wrong?"

"oh, qualsiasi cosa, i mean, nothing, just checking if you're things are packed, our flight to Italy leave at 3PM tomorrow"

"so you're keeping me?"

"of course we're keeping you, you did an incredible job these two days, and we're expecting updates to silverstone and we want to see what you can do with these upgrades"

"well, thank you for the confidence and yes, my things are packed" you smiled back, mattia reminded you about your dad, and you missed your old man

"i think you and charles will get along really well" and there it was, the prophetic thing saying things like that wasn't true, but anyway, silverstone it is, you need to study the track, the race, the strongs and weaknesses about the Ferrari cars... it would be long two weeks

next part here

lets wait to Silverstone to see the way this one is gonna take, byeeee

#formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula one #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 imagine

208 notes · View notes

gouged-out-eyes · 4 years ago

Text

Sacred (NSFW)

Summary: Chloe wakes up on an alien spaceship heading away from Earth in the company of a lone Yautja.

Pairing: Yautja/Predator x human OC

Warnings: Smut, violence, swearing, shitty attempts at Yautja culture, blood.

A/N: Here it is! Finally! This is more anticipated than I thought it would be. I’m definitely excited for this one though. I do love some big mean alien lizard boys. I definitely tried to get as much right about Yautja culture as I could but don’t expect it all to be right. I definitely took some liberties with it as it is fiction. And I kinda modeled him after the Fugitive Predator from The Predator.

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

Chloe’s head is throbbing when she wakes. She’s warm, sweat coating her skin. She’s sore, her muscles protesting every movement. She kicks the pelt off her body, rolling over on the hard surface. It takes a moment for her brain to catch up, quickly registering that she wasn’t in her room. Wasn’t in her bed. It was far too firm to be her old mattress, and she didn’t have any animal pelts either. Second, it was the middle of winter, so there was no way it could be that hot and humid in her room.

Her body protests as she sits up, rubbing her eyes. The lights in the room are dim, giving her just enough light to see. The entire room seems to be made of metal, floor to ceiling. She’s laying in a sunken part of the floor, oval shaped with a ton of pelts layered under her. She crawls to the step, pulling herself up and onto the metal floor. It’s cool against her body, causing goosebumps to form on her bare legs. She’s been stripped down to her boyshort underwear and the tank top she wore under her clothes. She rubs her legs, feeling a bumpy scar on the back of her calf, running her fingers along the raised, jagged line. Her head is pounding as she looks around the somewhat empty room, seeming all too sterile and plain.

Her vision spins as she forces herself up onto her feet, her limbs feeling heavy. She can’t remember much, especially how she got to this place. She remembers being in her house, doing her morning routine, but everything after that is blank. She stumbles as she tries to take a step, reaching out to catch herself against a wall. A panel slides up, making her step back in surprise. It was some sort of cover over a window. What Chloe sees out the window takes her breath away.

Black, inky darkness dotted with billions of pinpricks of light. She presses her hand against the glass, staring out at space in disbelief. Everything comes rushing back to her in that moment, the eventful day slamming back into her brain like a sledgehammer.

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

Chloe’s breath steams out in front of her as she treks through the trees, hunting for firewood. She hadn’t expected her central heating to crap out in the dead of winter, forcing her to fire up the old wood stove. To do that, she needed wood to feed the fire. It was the weekend and the repairman couldn’t even come out to her place until Monday at the earliest, so she was stuck either freezing or foraging for logs to tide her over until then.

The forest was quiet, even for winter. It unnerved her a bit, sending tickles of fear quavering down her spine. Something was off, even her dull human survival instincts able to pick up on it. But she didn’t have a choice. All she had was a small hatchet, and the trees were far too big in her yard for her to cut branches down by herself.

The creature is practically on top of her before she even knows it’s there. It moves silently, creeping up on her, only its gigantic shadow dwarfing her own giving her any warning that there’s something behind her. Her stomach practically leaves her body as a hand closes around the back of her jacket, yanking her off her feet. A startled yelp leaves her lips as she’s pulled away from the branch she had been inspecting and lifted a good three feet off the ground.

A growl meets her ears, her brain circulating through all the predators that didn’t go into hibernation that lived in the area, but it’s nothing she recognizes. She’s turned around, coming face to face with a metal mask. The creature holding her is huge and like nothing she’s ever seen before. For one, it’s far underdressed for the weather. The revealed skin is reptilian like, but the fact it was standing on two legs was just the first sign that it was not reptilian, nor probably from the planet at all. It was entirely alien to her.

It lets out a loud growl in her face, Chloe’s heart nearly stopping at the sound. The growl vibrates through her entire body, her hand gripping the handle of the hatchet tighter. The hatchet. She hadn’t let it go in her surprise when she was yanked off her feet. She grips it even tighter, lifting it before bringing it down hard on the arm that’s holding her up, near the inside of the creature’s elbow. It bellows out, neon green blood leaking from the wound as it lets her go in surprise.

She drops to the ground, her legs nearly giving out at the force, but she steadies herself, not wasting any time in taking off running back towards her home. Green blood has stained her hatchet, but she doesn’t pay it any mind as she keeps her death grip on it. Trees explode around her as the creature shoots at her, making her duck and weave to try and avoid getting shot.

She’s nearly to her home when something bites into the back of her leg, cutting clean through the layers on her lower half and into her muscle. It sends her stumbling, landing hard on her knees on the ground. She spins around, finding the creature stalking up towards her. Her leg is on fire, the muscle throbbing in time with her heart.

Red beams light up on the side of the creature’s mask, forming a triangle-shaped target right at the center of her chest. This was it. This was how she would die. Not peacefully in bed like she’d once hoped, but in the woods in the middle of winter at the hands of an alien creature.

Chloe closes her eyes, preparing for death, but the shot never comes. There’s a second roar, a different sounding one, before the tree inches from her head explodes. Chloe opens her eyes, finding a second of the reptilian alien creatures having tackled the first, and now they were fighting each other. The new alien is smaller than the other, but still it would dwarf her if she got close enough to it.

She didn’t plan on testing that theory though, instead reaching to the back of her leg and pulling out the metal device from her leg. It looked almost like an arrowhead, but much larger than any she’d ever seen. She doesn’t spend much time inspecting it, instead forcing herself to her feet. The creatures were engaged in an intense battle and she didn’t want to wind up in the middle of it, more than she already had. So, she pushes through the pain, starting to make her way back towards her home.

She’s almost out of earshot of the battle, which was quite the distance since they were making quite the ruckus when she stops. A thought runs through her mind, guilty and tugging at her heartstrings.

The second creature had saved her. Whether that was its intention, it had inadvertently saved her. Could she really walk away and leave it to possibly end up in the same situation as her? Who would be there to help it? Who’s to say the larger of the two wouldn’t hunt her down as soon as it finished off the smaller one? She had injured it, outright attacking it. She hadn’t known if it was going to hurt her or not, and she had enraged it by trying to get away from it, acting out of fear. So, by extension, the smaller creature’s death could be her fault.

Chloe curses her soft heart before turning around, pushing herself back the way she’d come, following the sounds of the fight. It sounded closer now, brutal and loud. She was glad she lived in the middle of nowhere, no doubt having tons of people around would make this even more dangerous. Not that she was one to talk. She was walking back into a fight she was far from prepared to join.

The creatures have formed a small clearing when she finds them again. The trees in the area have been either uprooted or knocked down. The larger one seems to have the upper hand, beating on the smaller one like nobody’s business. So her gut feeling had been right. It looked like she was about to repay the favor she owed to the alien creature.

It’s not hard to sneak up on them, the ruckus they’re making loud enough to cover her limping footsteps through the snow. She grips her trusty hatchet, coming up behind the larger alien as it sends fist after fist into the smaller alien’s mask. She hesitates for a second, waiting for the creature’s arm to be lowered before she brings the hatchet down, throwing all of her weight into the strike. It digs deep into the creature’s uncovered shoulder, neon green blood spraying and painting the snow at her hit.

She sees it coming, but her brain reacts too slowly, the creature’s hand sweeping out and hitting her hard. She goes flying back, landing several yards away in the snow. The impact has her choking on air, something cracking audibly at the force of the hit and the impact with the ground. She struggles to bring air back into her lungs, dazed as the snow-covered trees dance and swirl above her head. She vaguely recognizes the sound of something coming towards her, but she can’t do anything. Can’t bring herself to move.

Chloe’s eyes try to focus on the alien above her, the large creature standing over her. Had it been worth it, signing her death warrant to save an alien that probably didn’t give two shits about her? At least she wouldn’t die with a guilty conscience.

But the strike never comes. The large alien disappears from her line of sight, Chloe forced to watch the sky darkening. Or was that just her vision fading out? She can barely register the fight happening just a few feet away until she can’t hear it anymore. Was it over or was this her losing her own fight to stay awake?

The alien appears in her line of sight again, kneeling down next to her. No, this was the smaller one. She could recognize the differences in their helmets, the differences in their sizes. Was he going to finish her off? Kill her for trying to help him? Thank her before leaving her there to freeze and die? The last thing Chloe sees before her vision goes dark is her hatchet in its hand, coming down towards her.

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

Chloe sinks to her knees, staring out at the darkness of space. The alien had abducted her. She had been sure it would kill her too. She had gone in to repay her debt, to help it without even knowing if it was friendly or not. One of its kind had tried to kill her. What had made her think the other one would be any different?

The sound of an airlock releasing has her spinning around, crouched on the floor next to the window. The alien is there, stepping into the room. He’s a hulking mass of muscle and strength, threatening despite the small amount of armor and lack of visible weaponry he carried. But she had seen what they were capable of with their bare hands, felt what they were capable of with just their strength alone.

She feels vulnerable, exposed where she is. She’s completely at its mercy and she has no idea what its intentions are. Would it probe her? Run tests on her? Experiment on her? Did it have other intentions? Had she been brought along just for its simple pleasure? She has no idea, and the mask covering its face offers her no hints to its mood, its thoughts, its plans regarding her.

Chloe takes a deep breath, the air stuttering in her throat as she stares at the hulking alien in the room with her. “You...you brought me here?”

It nods its head once in a quick motion. At least it understands her.

“I want to go home. I want to go back to Earth.”

It shakes its head once, again a quick motion.

Chloe feels her throat wanting to close to hold in sobs, tears threatening to spill. “Why? Why won’t you take me back?”

It looks down at its wrist gauntlet, pressing a few buttons before looking back to her, speaking with a mechanical voice. “Can’t. Bad Bloods know you now. Too dangerous.”

The words make little sense to Chloe’s already throbbing head, her brain refusing to put any meaning to them. She drops to her knees again, her body folding in on itself as pain and fear take over. She presses her forehead against the floor, the metal cool against her skin. Despite the heat in the room, she’s shivering, tears starting to pool on the metal below her face.

Once again she’s taken by surprise at the large creature’s silence, her body springing into action as a warm hand touches her back. She sits up, spinning and throwing a wild fist in his direction. He’s faster than she is though, catching her hand in one of his own huge ones. He’s quick to catch her other hand, holding both of her wrists in one of his hands. His sharp nails prick her skin as she struggles against him, drawing small beads of blood to the surface. His hand smears it on her skin as he forcefully moves her, her back ending up against his chest, both of them sitting on the floor.

A clicking sound starts deep in its chest, reverberating against her back. It vibrates through her, continuous and slow. It was a purr used by his kind to calm distressed pups and occasionally a distressed or wounded female. He knew humans weren’t capable of this, and didn’t use this to calm their young, but he figures he would try it. Her reaction had not been what he expected, and he had hoped the sedative would keep her asleep for longer than it had.

Eventually his plan does work. Chloe goes limp against his chest, tears still trailing down her face.

“I just want to go home.” Her voice is weak, hardly more than a whimper.

He’s warm against her back, his body heat unnatural to her. It had been a long time since a human had held her, but still she knows humans weren’t as warm as him. Her head feels heavy, the throbbing worse from her crying fit. She’s tired and worn out, her head lolling against the creature’s shoulder. Its purring had calmed her down, her brain pulling up something she’d read on the internet about cats purrs calming humans. She’s exhausted and her brain has had too much to deal with, too much information to try to process through, and she finds herself drifting off to sleep.

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

The little ooman female is finally asleep.

Tarei’hsan watches her, her body temperature finally lowered, her breathing even. Things had not gone like he’d planned. He knew revealing she was no longer on Earth would be a messy situation, but he had planned on easing her into the idea. He’d forgotten about the viewports on the ship, and she had stumbled across one, making the discovery on her own.

He wished he could make her understand.

He’d been sent out to hunt the Bad Bloods, followed them planet to planet, always a step behind them until they’d dallied too long on Earth. He’d finally caught up with them, just in time to find one ready to kill the little ooman currently in his arms. He hadn’t intended on her being there, nor on saving her life. He had a duty he was tasked with, to wipe out the Bad Bloods before they could do any more harm.

But the little ooman was surprising.

She had come back and saved his life. He had been losing the fight, ready to end both their lives when she’d appeared. She’d nearly died to give him an upper hand. He couldn’t stay there to let other Bad Bloods from that clan take their revenge. Not when she had risked her life for his.

He was breaking laws having her on his ship.

But she had proven her bravery. Taken on a Bad Blood to help him. She’d been close to death by the time he’d gotten her to his ship, giving him no other choice but to give her his blood to make sure she healed properly.

He had broken so many laws in a short amount of time, and he can’t even explain why.

He could have left her there. Returned to his ship and forgot her existence. But he hadn’t. He had brought her on board his ship, taken her away from her home planet.

Pauk, he was an idiot.

Maybe it was the soft curves of her body, the smooth skin pressed close against his own. Maybe it was the musky scent that burned his throat emanating from her. Maybe it was the fire that burned inside her, what he’d seen when she’d attacked the Bad Blood, tried to attack him despite her obvious distress.

He can’t explain it.

He doesn’t dwell on it much longer, carefully shifting the female ooman in his arms before lifting her off the floor. He steps back down into his nest, laying her down carefully in the pelts. He covers her body again, watching her for a moment longer before taking his leave, heading back towards the controls.

*********

Chloe wakes up in the strange bed again. She’s alone once again, something she’s partially glad about. She had lost control of herself, lost any sense of sanity when she’d seen what lay outside the walls surrounding her. She was flying through space. She was some unknown distance from Earth, from her home, from everything she knew. She was on an alien’s spaceship, flying through space to god knows where.

The entire thing seemed absurd.

But then again, she had fought off a giant alien reptile creature that had wanted to kill her what seemed like hours ago to her. She’d saved the life of one of them, nearly risking her own to do so. The alien had said she wasn’t safe on Earth. That the “Bad Bloods” knew her.

That sentence didn’t make any sense to her, but she tries not to dwell on it for the moment. She had more pressing matters. First things first, she really had to pee.

She climbs out of the bed again, feeling along the wall. There had to be another door somewhere. As soon as she gets close part of the wall opens up, revealing what looks like, to her best estimation, the bathroom. It’s very much nothing like the bathrooms she’s used to, but she does her best.

Second, she’s starving.

She’s not sure how long it had been since she’d eaten last, remembering breakfast that morning, but she’s not sure how long ago that day had been. It could have been that morning for all she knew, or it could have been weeks ago. Her sense of time was almost nothing, the never ceasing inky darkness outside the window doing nothing to help.

Chloe makes her way towards the exit of the room, the door sliding open automatically again. She hesitantly steps out, staying on her toes in case there were more of them on the ship. Or for anything unexpected, really. She wasn’t even sure how big the ship was.

Not very big, she finds out, walking the entire thing before finding her way to what had to be the control room. The helm. Whatever they called it in spaceships. The door slides open as she comes near, the alien creature spinning around in his chair at the noise. A trilling purr sounds from his throat, but Chloe doesn’t pay any attention to it, her eyes drawn out the front window. She can’t help herself, stepping up closer to get a better view.

The planet they’re flying by was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Judging by their angle of flight, it wasn’t the one they were going to, but it shocked her nonetheless. She stares at it as they pass, only realizing her mouth is hanging open and she’s nearly standing right next to the pilot’s chair then.

She steps away, blushing slightly. “Sorry.” She suddenly realizes how bare she is, still only in a tank top and her underwear, crossing her arms over her chest, her fingernails picking at her skin out of habit. “I’m hungry.”

She feels strange saying that phrase to an alien. She feels like a kid, asking some strange grownup she’s known for five minutes for something to eat. She doesn’t even know if the alien will feed her, or let her starve until they arrive at their destination. Did they eat? Was there food on the ship?

The alien stands from his seat, and her guess was right. He towers over her by a good two feet, her head not even close to reaching its shoulder. She really felt like a child then, having to bend her neck to stare up at its mask covered face.

It motions at her with its head to follow and she does, having to speed up to keep up with its fast-paced steps. Another set of doors opens up as it approaches, making its way through them. She follows, unsure of what to do. There’s a table and chairs set up and what she assumes is a food storage area. Again, it’s entirely alien to her, but then again, the entire situation was alien to her.

She’s directed into one of the large seats, finding it surprisingly cushiony. She feels like a child again, sitting in a chair that’s too big. She watches the creature’s back as it prepares food, Chloe finally questioning what, and if, she can even eat on the ship. His kind obviously ate, but what did they eat?

It places a metal plate in front of her after a few moments with what looks like chunky mashed potatoes on it, but it smells sort of like a roasted vegetable. She’s reminded of the time she had tried to get into the cauliflower craze, attempting cauliflower mashed potatoes. They hadn’t turned out so great, and even this alien food looked more appetizing than that had.

Chloe’s stomach cramps uncomfortably and she doesn’t hesitate to dig in, shoveling the strange food into her mouth. It tastes bitter to her, but she doesn’t care. She wasn’t in a position to be picky. It wasn’t like there was a grocery store or a McDonald’s they could pull over and order from.

The creature sits across from her, watching her through its mask. She was still left with a lot of questions, starting to get curious about her alien...what would she call him? Captor? Abductor? Savior? Companion? She certainly didn’t feel they were on the terms of the latter. Captor seemed a bit too extreme. She obviously had free rein of the ship, and it hadn’t seemed mad that she escaped the room. It was feeding her so obviously it wanted her to live. Savior seemed a bit too gracious. It had taken her from Earth, after all. Abductor it was then.

Before she knows it, her plate is empty. She feels full, her stomach protesting a bit at being fed so much at once. It had been a big helping, no doubt made for someone his size. He’s still sitting there, having not moved other than a slight twitch here or there.

It isn’t until she’s finished and puts her utensil down that he finally moves, standing from the table. He motions at her again and she follows, slightly unnerved by the silence. He leads her back to the room, following her inside. She pauses at the edge of the bed, turning back to face him. He’s standing in the doorway, watching her again. She chews on her lip, crossing her arms over her chest again.

“I...can I ask you a question?” She finally breaks the silence.

It tilts its head to the side, and she takes that as permission.

“I want to know...why you took me from Earth. I mean...you said that it was because the Bad Bloods knew who I was, but...I don’t know what that means.”

He’s still for a moment, and she takes that as a sign that he’s pondering her question.

It’s a few quiet moments before he moves, gripping her arm and steering her towards the bed. He sits down on the pelts, looking up at her. She follows his lead, sitting a few feet from him so she’s facing him.

He begins to tell her everything, trying his best in broken English using his translator. It was using English from the little his clan had come in contact with and put in the database, and from the little it had picked up from her speaking. He tells her about his kind, their culture, society, the clans. He tells her about the Bad Bloods and his task to hunt down the ones she had the unfortunate pleasure to come in contact with.

Chloe soaks it all in, trying to make sense of the strange alien culture. He hadn’t directly answered her question, but had at least made her a bit more relaxed. She knew now why the Bad Bloods were so dangerous, dangerous enough he had abducted her to keep her safe. That thought alone makes her stomach churn. She had openly fought one of them. It could have...would have killed her.

“But...I still don’t understand...why you abducted me? I mean, yeah, I helped you, but...why me?”

It regards her silently for a moment, a quiet trilling purr leaving its chest again. It leans forward slightly, getting closer to her. She freezes, staying still as it reaches out, clawed fingers stretching towards her face. She wants to flinch, wants to move, but she forces herself to stay still, watching clawed fingers capture a lock of her hair, running the strands lightly through its fingers. She closes her eyes as the backs of its claws brush against her cheek, her heart rate starting to pick up.

She’d seen the damage he could do, the full force of his strength, yet his touch was nothing but gentle against her. He lets the strand slide through his fingers, moving his hand away before standing up. Chloe lets her eyes open, following him as he makes his way out of the room silently, her heart still racing.

*******

Chloe wonders if he ever sleeps as she lays in his bed. She had fallen asleep not long after he’d left her, tired from a lengthy conversation with a copious amount of information. She’s warm again, too warm. The pelts are tucked up around her chin, heavy over her body. They weren’t an animal she recognized, not that she knew much about animal fur outside of domesticated animals. But it would make sense for them to be something entirely alien.

Chloe goes to roll onto her back, but she doesn’t make it far, colliding with something solid behind her. She freezes, her body going rigid immediately. A low purr rumbles against her, the solid mass behind her shifting slightly. So that was her answer. He did sleep.

She lays still, waiting for him to move, waiting for him to push her away, do something, but he doesn’t. He’s just as still as she is. She takes a few shallow breaths to calm herself, not wanting to disturb him. She wonders if he’s awake, doing the same thing, waiting for her to move.

After a few tense moments of stillness, she decides she’ll be the first to move. She slowly wiggles forward, pulling herself away from him using the pelts. She doesn’t get very far before a hand grips the back of her tank top, claws scratching lightly against the skin of her back before she’s pulled the few inches back against the alien. He lets her go immediately, settling back down. Chloe lets out the breath she’s holding, letting her body relax again.

Chloe slowly turns again, shifting until she’s facing him. He’s on his back, face pointed up at the ceiling. He’s still wearing his mask, giving her no sign of if he’s awake or asleep again. She takes this moment to study him up close, not having gotten a chance to do so before. She had been right about him being reptilian like, his scaled mottled skin colored in tones of dark green and almost black, lighter on his chest before getting darker along his arms and shoulders. She can see the clear lines of his muscle, stomach contracting with each breath. She draws her gaze higher up, sliding up his chest and over the strange armor covering one shoulder. She continues her journey, eyeing the strange dreadlocks coming from his head. She reaches a hesitant hand up, her fingers closing around the end of one.

His hand shoots up, grabbing her own. She tenses, but his grip is light, pinning her hand against his shoulder. His skin is rough against her own, not unlike the alligator bag her mother owned. His face turns towards her, a deep purr sounding from his chest. It’s continuous rumbling against her hand. The dreadlock between her fingers is oddly rough and ridged, like it had been worn down by time. It reminds her a bit of rubber tubing, but slicker.

The low purring continues as he moves her hand, her fingers releasing the dreadlock. He holds her hand up, studying it. It was small compared to his own, her entire hand, fingers and all, able to fit in his palm. She leans up on her elbow on the other arm, watching him.

“Do you always wear the mask?” She asks, curiously breaking the silence.

He shakes his head, releasing her hand. She brings her fingers to his mask, tracing the smooth metal with her fingers.

“Why won’t you take it off around me?” He doesn’t give her an answer, his hands falling back to his sides. She sits up, crossing her legs beside him. “Come on, you can’t be that bad looking.”

He stares at her through the mask for a few more moments before reaching up and undoing his mask. Chloe tries to keep her breathing steady, trying not to react as he reveals his face to her for the first time.

Yeah, okay, maybe it could be that bad.

It wasn’t that he was ugly; he was just...different.

Alien.

His eyes are bright yellow, staring at her with a permanent glare. He lacks a nose, his mouth holding sharp teeth not unlike fangs. His mouth is covered by mandibles, four of them that click together as he moves them. There are spikes lining his face where the dreadlocks sprout from his head. They’re not unlike hair, but they look sharper and coarser. She takes him in, unable to stop the uneasy feelings coursing through her. The fear. His was a face made to be feared. To invoke the need to run from him like a predator chasing prey. That was the feeling she felt around him. Like she was his prey, despite the fact he hadn’t made one remotely violent move towards her.

The purring starts again, his mandibles twitching as he lifts his hand to her face, moving slowly as not to scare her. She stays still, letting him come closer. His hand could easily cover her face entirely, but she pushes that thought away as he runs a clawed fingertip over her lips. He moves his hand, his thumb and forefinger gripping her chin lightly. His free hand is in her hair again, claws parting the strands, pulling out tangles as he goes.

She relaxes into his touch, a content sigh leaving her lips. It’s matched by a trilling purr, the alien letting his hands fall back to the pelts. Chloe opens her eyes, letting them fall on his face again.

“I...I just realized...I don’t know your name.”

“Tarei’hsan.” He answers her, her brain trying to formulate the name.

“Tarei...hsan?” She tries to form her mouth around it, a frown marring her face. “I feel like you need a nickname.” She tilts her head, her hand coming to rest on his mesh covered stomach absentmindedly. She studies him for a moment. “How about...Tusk.”

He lets out a trill, his mandibles clicking together.

She takes that as a yes, smiling. “My name’s Chloe.”

“Kh-loee.” He tries to pronounce it, making her giggle.

“Maybe I need a nickname too.”

He reaches up, tracing a claw down her arm. “Yeyinde.”

Chloe smiles. “I hope that means something good.”

His mandibles click again. “Brave.”

Chloe’s cheeks heat up, bowing her head bashfully. “I’m not so sure about that.”

His fingers are on her chin again, lifting her face so she’s looking up at him. He’s sitting up now, his gaze firm as he stares at her. “Brave.”

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

It’s two days later by Tarei’hsan’s clock that the nightmares start. It’s the noises that draw him from his sleep. He had grown used to the sounds she’d make, the sighs, the occasional soft sounds from her throat. But this one was different. He thought someone had snuck on board, gotten into their room without him sensing it, and was attacking her. But his eyes find no one in his quick scan of the room. Her eyes are screwed shut, a frown pinching her face. Her hands are gripping the pelt thrown over her, a cry leaving her lips as she twitches in her sleep.

He’s purring before he even realizes he’s doing it, reaching out towards her tense body. He touches her shoulder, shaking her gently. It takes a couple of tries before she starts awake, yanking herself from his grip. Her eyes are wide in the human expression of fear and he purrs louder at her to calm her. She takes two deep breaths before she calms, running her fingers through her hair.

“Sorry. I...bad dream.”

She pulls her knees to her chest, keeping her gaze lowered from him. He trills at her, reaching out a hand. She stares at it for a moment before slowly reaching forward, putting her hand in his. He pulls her forward and into his arms, holding her like females of his kind hold their pups. His kind weren’t known for being affectionate, weren’t known for being fond of prolonged touch. But he knew humans were. He knows by the way she relaxes in his hold, practically melting against his chest. He sits back, holding her against his chest, a quiet purr rumbling through them both.

He knows she doesn’t go back to sleep. He knows he can’t either. He wasn’t a stranger to night terrors. He knew they were natural to humans, their own brains frightening them in their sleep. His kind didn’t dream, didn’t sleep like humans did. Humans were strange creatures, weak but cunning enough to beat some of the best Yautja warriors. Some clans thought them disgusting, pitiful creatures. Some considered them worthy opponents. But he had not heard of one going so far as he had. To save one, bring her aboard his ship and intend to take her back to his clan ship. She had proven herself worthy in his eyes, but his eyes did not matter.

*********

Tarei’hsan had slowed the ship significantly. He could have been back to his clan ship in a matter of a couple days if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t. He knew what was waiting for him once he returned. Taking her aboard would be a risk. They could kill her whether they believed what he claimed. He didn’t want that to happen. He considered leaving his clan behind, flying to some distant planet on the far side of the galaxy and hiding there with her. But they would find him, eventually. That would consign both of them to certain death.

He stares out at the space in front of him, his mandibles clicking as he thinks of what to do. He didn’t want to lose the strange little ooman that had caught his attention. But he also didn’t want to risk running either. He’s so lost in thought he almost doesn’t hear her approaching. It isn’t until she’s close enough to touch him that he whirls around in his seat, startling her.

She takes half a step back, dropping the hand that had been outstretched at his movement. He lets out a quiet purr, letting his body relax. She lets out a breath, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Yeyinde.”

“You didn’t come back for a bit. I just...wanted to check on you.”

He trills in response, reaching out for her again. He doesn’t move, letting him pull her onto his lap before he turns his chair again, letting her see out the front viewport. She leans back against him, legs spread over his own. He watches her for a moment before pulling his mask off, leaning down to let his mandibles tangle in her hair. She smelled good, clean. He had shown her the bathing room, letting her clean herself up. She smelled like soap, but he can also detect her natural scent beneath it. He feels his own body react to it, stomach clenching in response.

Chloe’s nose tickles for a moment. She had been lost in thought, staring out at the hundreds of stars in front of them. Tusk had his mandibles in her hair again, something he’d taken to doing recently. She was okay with that, considering her hair was clean now. His body was moving slightly under hers, his muscles flexing as he presses closer to her hair. Something musky tickles her nose, reminding her a bit of a men’s locker room at a gym. Tusk’s arms wrap around her body, pulling her tighter against him. Any tighter and she’s worried he might crack something.

“Tusk...” She says, her hands lifting to his arms where they’re holding onto her. “Any tighter and I won’t be able to breathe.”

He doesn’t loosen his hold, his back bending slightly over her as his mandibles move down her hair, touching the skin of her face. She stays still, barely breathing as the sharp mandibles move along her skin, tracing along her jaw and neck. She holds back a shiver, goosebumps forming on her skin from the feeling. How easily he could kill her. One hard squeeze and he would pop a few internal organs, puncture something with a broken rib. One hard bite from his sharp teeth and she’d bleed out in a matter of minutes.

The thought thrills her.

She feels as if she’s lost her mind, biting back a moan as his mandibles trace over the sensitive skin of her neck. She can feel an uncomfortable wetness between starting between her legs. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her so intimately, since anyone had been so close to her. Since anyone had that effect on her. Tusk’s purrs deepen, her entire body seeming to vibrate with the sound. She tilts her head back, exposing herself to him, making herself vulnerable. He jerks against her, his sharp fang-like teeth scraping against the skin of her neck as his mandibles wrap nearly clear around her throat. His forked tongue is rough, almost like a cat’s, as it slides against her sweat slicked skin. She’s on fire, every nerve ending awake and firing as he touches her.

She doesn’t know what had changed, what had brought on this frenzy in both of them. Maybe he had alluded to it in the very beginning. The increasing touches, the way he shamelessly slept next to her, the way he’d walked around after coming out of the bathing room in buck naked, forcing her to bury herself in the pelts in his bed out of embarrassment. Maybe it had been his plan all along in taking her, using her for his pleasure. But if that was the case, wouldn’t he have just done it?

Her hand is on his before she can put much more thought into it, her brain buzzing as his tongue burns a trail down her neck and shoulder. He lets her direct him, moving his hand to the warmth between her legs. She’s horribly damp, soaking through the underwear and onto her thighs as she presses his much larger hand against her. His claws bite at her skin, but it just adds to the sensation, her hips bucking against his thick fingers as he explores her through her underwear. She doesn’t know what females of his kind are like anatomically speaking. She’s not even entirely sure what he’s like anatomically. She had ducked so fast under the pelts when he’d come out naked she hadn’t bothered to sneak a peak at him.

He growls low, wrapping his hand around the waistband of her panties before yanking them off. She wants to protest, but he returns the rough pads of his fingers to her slit and all complaints are forgotten before they can leave her mouth. His thighs hold hers open, her hips lifting to press into his hand. She’s disadvantaged, unable to really see him, forced instead to look out at the inky darkness of space and the passing gas giant. The view really settles the reality of the current situation. She was getting off at the hands of an alien in a spaceship probably hundreds of light-years away from Earth.

But the way his claws brush against her clit have the thoughts drifting from her mind.

Sounds are leaving her mouth now, moans and whimpers that are like sweet music to his ears. He’s never heard anything like it, his kind unable to make such noises. He’s slick and hard, straining against his coverings as she writhes against him. He knows he has to be careful. Her kind weren’t entirely different from his, just distinguishingly smaller. He knew little about the human mating process but he had a plethora of experience mating his own kind. He’d sired enough pups to know he was well liked and even sought after by a few females. But none of them had affected him the way the tiny human in his arms was in this moment.

She was tight.

Careful of his claws, he attempts to work a finger into her slick passage, her walls gripping him tight like a vice. She’s panting where she’s limp against his chest, gripping his arm that’s still around her tightly. He lets out a trilling purr, working his finger into her. She opens up around it slowly, letting him slip more and more into her. If she was this tight around his finger, pauk what she would feel like around him.

But he holds back.

He was big. Not just in general compared to her. He was big in all areas. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, and so he could control himself. If she saw him and was afraid, he wouldn’t force himself on her. A good male could control himself enough around a female, prove to her he was worthy of taking her. Despite his length pressing uncomfortably against his coverings, he wouldn’t lose himself like a Young Blood around this ooman.

He releases his hold around her middle, his hand trailing down the smooth skin of a trembling thigh. She arches away from him, her back bowing as he slips his finger in and out of her.

“Tusk.” His nickname leaves her lips in a moan, her head falling back against his shoulder revealing more of her neck to him. If only she knew what it meant in his culture to leave herself so vulnerable to him in this moment.

She reaches back, her hand tangling in his dreadlocks. He practically lets out a roar, his claws digging into her skin until she hisses, five red dots appearing on her skin. He freezes, pulling his claws out of her skin. He looks down, finding her staring up at him before a wicked smirk twists the corner of her lips upward. He doesn’t have time to consider the meaning before she wraps a hand around one of his dreadlocks, yanking hard enough to jerk his head to the side.

He lets out a roar this time, all pretenses gone as he stands, holding her under his arm as he practically runs back to the room. He drops to his knees on the pelts, her body flopping from his grip onto her back on the furs. She’s spread open before him, the scent of her leaching into him, driving him wild. His body is still aflame from her touch in his locks, leaving all doubt in his mind behind. He undoes the straps, yanking off his coverings, leaving him bare and presenting in front of her for her approval. Chloe stares at him wide eyed, taking him in truly for the first time.

Jesus, he’s huge.

She tries to form words, taking in his familiar shape but entirely alien form. It was certainly phallic in nature, but the top of it flared out, ridges and bumps lining the sides. It was thicker at the base than at the top, making her wonder how in the hell it was all going to fit inside her. It had to be the length of her forearm easily.

She stumbles over her words, trying to think of something, anything to say as he stays completely still, his length moving as he breathes. “O-Oh...” She sits up, cautiously reaching a hand out.

He’s slick, almost like a natural lubrication. She’s grateful for that, not even sure that her excessive wetness would help him fit inside her. He lets out a breath as she touches him, the warmth of it fanning over her head. He’s warm in her hand, her fingers barely able to close all the way around it. She doesn’t have much experience in the realm of male anatomy. Not that it would help her in this situation.

She looks up at his face, his yellow eyes burning into her. She moves her hand along his shaft experimentally, watching him. His mandibles move, clawed hands curling into fists as she touches him. She wonders what he tastes like, but she’s not sure she’s quite ready for that yet, still trying to mentally prepare herself for fitting him inside her. His finger had been big, but this was something else entirely.

“Tusk...” She bites her lip, fingers teasing his head.

His hips jerk as his hand cups her chin, lifting her face back up to him. “Yeyinde can...say...no.”

Chloe feels tears well in her eyes despite the current situation. She was half naked in an alien spaceship with an equally half naked alien standing over her while she had her hand wrapped around its dick and he was telling her she could say no to him. Even as far gone as both of them obviously were, he was saying she could change her mind. That he would respect her.

“I...Thank you. But...I...I want to.” She feels as if she seals her fate with those words. Not that she was complaining.

He carefully slides out of her hand, moving so he’s laying down on his back. She doesn’t understand the importance of what he had just done, what he was doing for her in that moment. In normal Yautja mating, the female would fight to get the male to that position, a battle between the two of them with one of them coming out on top. By laying down for her, he was submitting to her, letting her know that she was in control. He could have easily dominated her, taken her from behind as most males did to females. But she wasn’t Yautja. She was ooman. It would not have been a fair fight.

She seems to know what to do, straddling his thick waist with her thighs. She pulls her tank top off, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He reaches his hands up, claws brushing over her nipples. She shivers, biting her lip as she moves over him. She’s still wet, sliding the tip of him along her slit a couple times. He watches her, watches the tip of him disappear into her.

He felt thicker than he looked, Chloe burning at the stretch of him. She presses her hands into his stomach, holding herself up as she goes centimeter by centimeter along his length. Despite both their natural lubricants, it’s still a tough stretch. She’s panting and shaking, his own breathing even and deep as he traces her nipple with his claws. Her own hand goes to her clit, circling it to help her ease up around him.

He doesn’t move, letting her take as much of him as he can. He’s impressed by her, nearly his entire length disappearing into her before she stops, fluttering around him. He lets out a growl but doesn’t move, proving his self control by letting her call the shots. She slowly moves, the ridges along his dick rubbing against her in a way that has her legs shaking already. She knows she will not last long. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, or even orgasmed and she knows by the way he hit that spot inside of her this would be over before she knew it.

Tarei’hsan watches the little ooman as she writhes on top of him. She’s tighter than he had imagined, squeezing him almost painfully. Every so often she’d flutter around him, making him growl in response. He felt like a Young Blood again, ready to lose control of himself already but he holds himself in check. But the way her back arches, pressing her breasts into his hands, the way she grinds against him is making controlling himself hard. He had been holding himself back, wanting to focus purely on the task he had been assigned and had forgone mating during their last mating season. And now he was breaking another law, mating with his tiny ooman.

Something in his brain snaps as she cries out, body shaking as she tries to keep up her pace. He knows she’s getting tired, so he moves his hands down to her hips, moving her with his own strength. She lets him, gripping his wrists as he bounces her on his cock. His brain pictures her dripping with his seed, pumping her full of it. Seeing the tiny ooman swollen with his pup, breeding an entire army of them with her.

He can’t help himself, thrusting up hard into her, a startled yelp leaving her as he sinks even deeper into her, his hips snapping up into hers. He’s lost all control of himself, her walls fluttering, gripping him tighter and tighter until she lets out a scream, nearly suffocating him with how tight she grips him. He matches her scream with a roar, nails digging into her waist, drawing blood as he spills into her, yanking her down before sinking his teeth into her shoulder. She jerks against him, yelping in pain, but he’s too lost to pay any mind to it in that moment. The tanginess of her blood hits his tongue, her body shaking against his as she squeezes around him once more. He’s pulsing hot inside her, twitching as he empties himself into her.

He holds her there for a few moments, her body twitching against his chest still as he pulls himself away from her shoulder, laving over the wound with his tongue. Her eyes are closed as he moves her, rolling her onto her back, separating them. He gets up, going to the bathing room to grab a cloth to clean the blood and seed off of her.

Her hand is between her legs when he returns, gathering some of his seed before bringing it close to her face.

“Your cum is green too?” She asks, looking up at him.

He huffs out a laugh, watching his seed drip out of her. It was less neon than his blood, but it was still shockingly green. He cleans the blood off her shoulder, grabbing his Medicomp and using gel to close the wounds on her shoulder and his claw marks on her hips before cleaning his seed from between her legs. She whimpers slightly as he touches her, no doubt she’ll be sore when she tries to move again.

She watches him retreat back to the bathing room, taking him in fully. He certainly was a beautiful sight. An odd, but beautiful sight.

He returns, stripping off the rest of his armor before laying down next to her. She curls up against him, resting her head against his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her, tracing her smooth skin. He was a goner now, having broken practically every sacred law in his clan against oomans. But he finds no regret. The soft body against his, the warm puffs of her breath against his skin as she drifts off to sleep. He would betray his clan for her. Fight every last Elder until they were all dead in order to keep her. Nothing would take her from him.

The lights of the ship go on, disturbing their peaceful moment, an alarm blaring obnoxiously in warning.

Part 2

#yautja x human #yautja x oc #predator #yautja #alien #exophilia

507 notes · View notes

rhetoricalrogue · 3 years ago

Text

Fiction Type: Fanfiction Fandom: Dragon Age Prompt: "You have no proof"

Continuing @fictober-event with the AU of the AU of the AU @alittlestarling and I are up to our eyebrows in, this time focusing on my son Vincent.

Running and fighting. Fighting and running. Catch a few fitful hours of unrestful sleep, then repeat. It seemed that was all Vincent had been doing these past few months. First, there was the running and fighting that had been expected of him when he had been conscripted into Empress Celene’s army, then the running when a templar on their side had turned on their unit – Vincent was still healing from the many arrow wounds he’d received when the smite had hit him from behind, the barrier he had put up to protect the solders on their side crashing down at the worst possible moment – and then running from where he had dragged himself, almost near death, to heal and recover back to his side of the army out of fear that they would think he had abandoned his post and hunt him down to drag him back or worse, give him the Brand and use him as an example of battlemages who thought they could take advantage of chaos on the battlefield to make a run from the Circle.

There had been a brief respite from the fighting as he traveled back east, the days of interrogation he’d undergone to prove that he spoke the truth about what had happened that day finally paying off. Vincent knew that his noble birth was one of the main reasons he had been allowed to return to Ostwick, injured in the line of duty – if conscription into a war not of his making nor even in his homeland could ever be called duty – and he wasn’t going to argue with his commanding officers once they signed the paperwork for his release back to the Circle. He’d set a hard pace from the Exalted Plains to Jader, worry that word of his untimely death – once they couldn’t find a body, the army had been quick to declare him killed in action – had already reached those he cared for.

Maker, if Roz ever thought he was dead, it would gut him to think of putting her through unnecessary grief and agony, no matter how brief.

Travel back home was on a decent pace, then he heard word of a contingent of mages traveling to Haven, which was decidedly closer than boarding a ship to sail from Jader back home. Vincent’s mind was made up when he heard that there were mages from Ostwick in the company and joining up with them was far more preferable than sailing across the Waking Sea.

Vincent and boats went together just as well as oil and water.

And then the unthinkable happened. He hadn’t even been anywhere close to Haven when word got out of the explosion, rumors quick to jump to the conclusion that mages had been at the root of the calamity and had taken a page out of the apostate from Kirkwall a year or so ago and blown up the Divine to enact change. Vincent was fortunate that his physical build wasn’t what one stereotypically thought of when they pictured a mage, and he used that to his advantage to flee. Templars were suddenly everywhere, killing on sight. Whatever brief rest he had from running and fighting was well over, and Vincent found himself hiding among pockets of mages similarly running for their lives in the wilds of Ferelden. He lost count of the days, catching sleep when he could and helping as many mages as possible while looking out for himself. It was selfish and he would feel guilty later but running, even if running meant leaving people behind, was the only way that he would possibly ever make it back home again.

Back home, and back to Rosalind. The image of her was seared into his mind and it was one bright thing he had to cling to. He would be damned if he had survived everything that had been thrown at him so far only to succumb to a templar’s blade before he could see her in person again.

Who knew how many days later, Vincent found himself close to Redcliffe. There were rumors that the village was a safe haven for mages everywhere and it was the closest thing to hope that he’d felt since leaving Orlais. He didn’t know how much further it was, but there were abandoned crofter’s cottages dotting the landscape that he dared to take shelter in. He couldn’t risk lighting fires in the hearth, but fitfully sleeping with a roof over his head instead of out in the open was a welcome relief.

And then the demons came. The most direct route to Redcliffe was cut off and Vincent found himself running from shrieking monsters that he had only encountered during his Harrowing. The only positive was that the demons didn’t discriminate between mage, templar, or regular civilian, so if he were really looking to put a positive spin on an otherwise absolute shitshow, he told himself that there were fewer templars trying to kill him in the area.

He came across a group of mages one evening and they readily welcomed him into the shelter of the woods they had named the Witchwood. He listened halfheartedly at their more radical ideas, silently resolving to abandon them for the preferred safety of the nearby crossroads once daylight broke, when he heard someone call him by name.

“Enchanter Trevelyan?”

The light was dim in the cavern, but he didn’t need it to recognize one of his favorite pupils. “Noemi?” He made to get up from where he had sat on the floor but didn’t even make it to his knees before the fourteen-year-old girl flung herself in his direction. He muffled a pained grunt as her arms wrapped just a little too tightly around his shoulder, the last of his injuries having to heal on their own as he used whatever magic reserves he had to fight off daily attacks instead of tending to himself. “How are you here?”

“How are you here? They told us you were dead!” Vincent froze. Oh no.

“Noemi, who else is here with you? Did you come with the people going to the Conclave?”

She wiped at her face, her tears making clean tracks on dirty cheeks. “No. I ran when the Circle fell.”

His eyes widened. “What?” Reaching out, he gripped her shoulders in his hands and focused on her. “Tell me everything. Where’s Roz? Is she here?” Maker, please, he begged, his pulse roaring in his ears. I’ve never been a devout man, but please, let her be safe.

“We were heading to dinner after lessons when she took me and a few of the little ones aside and told us to head to the greenhouses for a special project. She said that she would be there as soon as she could, but there was something that she had to do first. Then all at once, there was a lot of yelling and fire and…” she swallowed. “The last I saw of her was when she was running to the greenhouses. She told me to take the little ones and run.”

He couldn’t breathe. “What do you mean, the last you saw of her?”

“Ser Barnabas grabbed her by the hair and hit her with a smite.” Noemi’s lips trembled. “She screamed for me to run, so I ran. I ran and I ran and I haven’t stopped running.”

No. No, he refused to believe she was dead. “Did you see her fall?”

“No, but…” She scrubbed at her face. “We were all scared of Ser Barnabas, you know that. You know how much he liked to threaten hitting us. I didn’t see it, but Vincent, I think she’s dead.”

Vincent shook his head and sat back against the cavern wall. There was something building in his chest, a wail that wanted to break free and rip past his throat. “You have no proof though,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm as to not scare her. “You thought I was dead, but here I am. Roz is strong, and she’s clever. She had to have made it out of there alive. We have to hold onto the hope that she made it and she’s somewhere out in the world, just like we are.”

He took one look at Noemi and knew that she didn’t believe him, yet she nodded. “Okay.”

“We’re leaving here tomorrow morning. There’s a town, Redcliffe. Have you heard of it?”

Noemi shrank back from him. “No, you can’t make me go back there!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I was there. I took as many of the little ones as I could find after we scattered and we got on a boat. The older instructors said that Redcliffe was safe, but something in that town feels wrong. I made sure that the little ones were looked after, but then I snuck out in the middle of the night to find somewhere safer. I thought that I could go back, take the children with me to wherever I found, but…” she spread her hands as if to silently express the chaos around them. “They’re safer where they’re at for now, but I don’t want to go back. Please, don’t make me go back.”

Vincent winced as she huddled at his side, her entire body shaking. “Okay. Okay, we won’t go there, I promise.” He wrapped his arms around her, his mind whirring, desperately trying to focus on Noemi instead of the great yawning grief that threatened to swallow him whole. “Have you heard of the Crossroads? I don’t think it’s very far from here, we can make our way to that in the morning, okay?”

She nodded. “And look for Roz?”

Vincent squeezed his eyes tightly. There was no way that she was dead; she was such a fixture in his life, a lifeline even in the most peaceful of times. He loved her so completely that he was certain that he would have felt something, some sort of connection that tied his heart to hers sever, should she be truly gone.

He ran his hand soothingly over his former pupil’s back while trying to speak over the lump of unshed tears that had built in his throat. “Yes. And just you wait. We’ll find her.”

Maker, how he almost believed that.

#fictober21 #my writing #vincent trevelyan #rosalind marlowe #sweetheart au #do I even know HOW an Orlesian army could conscript mages from the Free Marches to fight for the empress?#no but it's my story damn it. if the devs forgot an entire moon i can make up some sort of handwavey excuse #that's my story and I'm sticking to it dangit

8 notes · View notes

suntara · 4 years ago

Text

I will find you, Haruka

Haruka's room only lit by an email I sent her pink and covered in posters wind chime singing for the upcoming summer a tune with sorrow underlying like a literature analysis filled with historians lying lies, six feet under or under the warm duvets of an odd place called home . "Haruka oh Haruka did you read the email? I told you about how I completed my family by replacing myself with an orange fur and blue eyed cat and I don't know how to feel about that" was an email I wrote that day . Haruka cycles to school every day through lush parks and the city like gray eyes and black suits like crammed papers in briefcases gets to wear navy skirts and beige jackets bigger than arms Stretched thin to hold another A+ and another lashing fermented soy beans for breakfast, fermented the tips of fingers and turned them numb, as if it made a difference . "Haruka, you replied in the middle of the night Are you feeling okay?" an email with nothing more than a cute animation to make me smile and words placed carefully like a baby in a bassinet I don't ask why anymore, I told her "I know that your mind is haunted too we live such different lives yet we lie on each other you animate your escape and I write mine" . Haruka tells the world that her favorite season is the winter, despite her name meaning the relentless whines of cicadas red temples redder foxes and reddest blushes the flowers sweating in nectarine like waterfalls bending into tiny streams Haruka doesn't have a home, she lives in a house and the more she could run, fall into and Shrivel up like cherry blossoms the more she'd feel alive . I emailed Haruka, a month later, saying "Hey Haruka! I haven't heard from you in a while I know that it's summer there, and there is hope even if it is hidden in a locket we both have no homes, just houses how many tents will we have to pitch? with we burrow homes in each other?" . Haruka works in a convenience store With neon signs and the coolers bluer than empty redbull cans and half eaten ramen all tastes bitter, like delivered texts and a leather jacket left behind its every poem strung to be hopeful when things just don't end up that way there's something called a gray ending and between the lines of chips and cheese She's looking for it Haruka replied, "hey there! I think you know, that like a venn diagram, there is a place where we all meet and a place where we have to connect dots ourselves, if the moon, sun and you eclipsed would the world be shrouded in darkness or would it be blinding? will we find a home? I don't know you call yourself a lonely travellor who gives every home they see a sweet memory without having warmth yourself, and I? call myself the same, except the memories aren't always sweet, they're bitter like non-fiction" . Haruka lives in a tiny apartment in the middle of billboards and glamour the apartment is anything but though, there is no fighting, no room to argue dirty lingerie on the floor, a million women none are her mother, one man and wine she can't call him her father he is nothing but sawdust and misery in her dullening eyes, she describes summer as dandelions tasting like wine, it sounds so sophisticated but it will never be Haruka doesn't understand why she has to choose a path when all three roads meet at the end, and all three all cradle their own misery like babies with bottles . I told Haruka in return "If I, the moon and the sun eclipsed, we together would shine a little light inside your home and no where else would it be blinding? I don't think so but it will twinkle, I like the idea of that do you? memories aren't all sweet, even when they taste like honey i got a crappy microphone yesterday, I've decided to be my own audience in a universe I write and a universe I tell I bet the universe was just talked about one day and it formed like instructions for furniture step by step, slowly in fact, nebulas quivering memories taste like that, I think all of mine, no matter how sugary just taste like nothing, and it kills me would you make me a costume? Play my partner in crime?" . Haruka, Haruka? no cycle rode to school that day no one came to the apartment to mop the floor no one restocked the ice cream the road trip with no aesthetic other than nervousness and inner dread A girl with dark hair and a voice like Skipping stones over a hot spring wrapped in a baby pink blanket and grasped tightly by a million tubes she holds my hand, under a flickering a flickering green light she says . "I would like it to twinkle, I miss that dearly even if I don't live to see it I didn't choose to end so quick I regret it, I found my home in your heart and i hope that you did in mine I'd be your partner in crime anyday, and I know that in a million light years like a venn diagram, you will eclipse with the sun and moon and you'd find me a million light years away and you'll shine on me, I know so I'd animate us a happy ending and I know you want to write us one too but like every memory, it isn't meant for sweetness, it will never be they're bitter like non-fiction but at least reality tried to be on our side" . flatlined, tenth of January 2021 she isn't lost, she hasn't found home because I'm not there yet she isn't forgotten, her "father" reminisces every day, a solemn soliloquy in her idea of a gray ending he's behind gray bars and gray walls even rats don't give him company he really is alone I built my home in her and she did in mine our hearts uninhabited will drag behind us and I guess, that's the saddest part of it all . (I found home but I'll wait: I'll wait: I'll wait to reach her: because I know she can't reach out to me: till then I'll live in my own heart: write a million more poems: and hope to also be :found and remembered) . (Imagine living in your heart and it reminds you of someone else, over and over again) . (no ending of ours is happy, it's either white gray or black, which one is it? You tell me) .

aureatemoonshine

44 notes · View notes

romanceforransom · 4 years ago

Text

There was a writer!sander fic that i started a little while ago but didn’t know where to go with it. So, I decided to post it here 🤷‍♀️

I might continue it...? idk. but let me know what you think :)

I ran into my local bookshop, the bell notifying my entrance as I swung open the heavy wooden door.

I had made sure to set my alarm extra early for that morning, giving myself enough time to get there before I had to make my way to work. There was a book that I had been waiting what felt like years for, and I wanted to pick it up as soon as humanly possible.

“Has it come?” I asked excitedly, rushing over to the front desk and locking eyes with an amused Zoë

She was used to my erratic behaviour by now, becoming desensitised to my hyperactive persona that I don whenever a new book comes out.

Not that I do it with every book. Of course, I love most things that come out, burying my nose in anything that I possibly can. But nothing gets me quite as excited as the books by Earthling Oddity.

Nobody knew this unknown author’s real name, or what they looked like. The air of mystery obviously created a lot of hype, gaining them a lot of followers trying to crack the code and reveal the hidden identity. What really made them popular, though, was the magical way they created stories.

I was always completely enraptured by the words written on the pages. Becoming engrossed in the fictional world they created and riding out the waves of emotions that came with the storylines.

They had come out with a new book recently, a new addition to one of their series, and I had been patiently (except not really. Unless pacing up and down the flat and checking my phone constantly for updates was considered as being patient) for it to be delivered to my bookstore.

“It’s here” Zoë replied, sounding amused “I reserved one for you, even though I knew you would be the first one in here today”

She reached underneath the desk and produced the long-awaited book

I stared at it in awe, admiring the bright colours and detailed art on the front cover.

“Wow” I breathed out, smiling

“You looking forward to reading it?”

I tore my eyes away from the book and looked up at her, squinting my eyes slightly “Seriously? I have been counting down the days for this book! Of course, I’m looking forward to finally being one step closer to unravelling the mystery that lies between the pages…”

She chuckled as I lifted my hand to tenderly stroke the front cover “Should I leave you two alone?”

“No, that’s ok” I said, picking it up and placing it gently in my backpack “I have to get going anyway”

“Ok, well keep me updated on it!”

I walked backward towards the door, grinning “Hourly updates are a given”

***

“Why are you carrying your bag so carefully?” Jana asked me curiously as I got to work

I had placed it gently on the ground in the back room with my coat, not wanting to damage the valuable contents lying inside of it.

“Seriously Jana? It’s got the book that I’ve been waiting months for”

Realisation washed over her face. I had been talking her ear off about it for a number of shifts. The amount of information she had actually been listening to and retaining would forever be a mystery, but she let me talk all the time without much judgement so that was the main thing.

“Aah ok, that makes more sense”

I pulled my apron over my head “What did you think was in there?”

She shrugged as she went back to stacking food in the display case “Judging by the way you were handling it, I thought for sure there was a bomb in there”

I shook my head at her amusedly “So your co-worker has a bomb, and you don’t do a thing to stop it? The least you could have done was taken my bag”

“We have a full shift ahead of us, Robbe” she deadpanned “Excuse me for not having much pep right now. I want to move as little as possible and retain the small amount of energy I have stored. Wrestling a bomb from you would probably take everything I had”

“Oh, come on. Shifts here aren’t that bad”

She raised her eyebrows at me “Go out all night drinking before our next shift and then tell me that again”

We both worked at a coffee shop in town. I actually quite enjoyed it. Being able to chat with people and brighten their day with coffee and cakes was a nice feeling.

Of course, it wasn’t something I wanted to do forever. Film making was my passion, the thing that I aspired to do in the future. Maybe even make some adaptations of Earthling’s books. Who knows? But, for now at least, I had to make do with making drinks.

Unlike me, Jana really did not like her job. She liked interacting with the customers, being the social butterfly she is, but the part where she actually had to serve and clean was never really something she enjoyed doing.

If I got paid every time she moaned when cleaning down the tables, there would be no need for this job. I would be rolling in money. She always claimed that it was manual labour, and she was going to sue the company for it. It did make me wonder what she thought would happen when she signed up for the job, but I never dared ask as she was always in a mood. It was best not to make things worse and just nod along.

“So, that book you have” she said “That’s the one with the mystery author, right?”

I nodded “Yep, they use a pen name. Lots of people have obviously tried to step forward and claim to be the author but the real one has yet to be revealed. If they ever will be. Fame isn’t for everyone, so I wouldn’t blame them for keeping hidden and basking silently in the glory of their writing”

“Aren’t you curious about who it is?” she asked me

“Well, yeah” I replied “I have always wondered who it is. I would love to be able to properly give my gratitude to the person that created such wonderful books… but I wouldn’t go out of my way to try and drag someone into the spotlight that doesn’t want to be there”

Many people on the internet have been trying to do exactly that. I have never understood why. Sure, you want to be the one to solve this giant question. But if it involves having to invade someone’s private life and tear down all the security and boundaries, they have built around them in order to remain anonymous, why would you want to do that?

What does revealing a random stranger’s identity add to your life? Nothing. It wouldn’t make you best friends with this person. In fact, you would probably end up as public enemy number one. Snooping in other people’s business isn’t cute, it’s creepy. Especially when they go out of their way to hide it.

The customers began flooding in. People coming in for their takeaway cups of coffee to beat away the morning tiredness. Monday’s were always especially bad. The weekend always wipes people out. Combining that with five days left of work looming over their head, a constant reminder of the seemingly never-ending week ahead of them, anyone would be exhausted.

Then, after a while, I spotted a familiar head of bleach blonde head of hair among the crowd out the corner of my eye.

“Robbe” I heard Jana hiss beside me as I continued making drinks for the awaiting customers “He’s here!”

Sander was a regular at the shop. He would always come in with an easy smile on his face and instantly brighten my day.

He was one of the most beautiful people I had ever laid my eyes on. Not only that, but he was also incredibly kind. Always dishing out compliments and making conversation with us while he patiently waited for his order. He has even defended us a couple of times when customers have been rowdy and impatient during the rush hours. Sander was just an all-round saint.

Jana knew that I had a small crush on him. I never told her outright, but she saw the way my face lit up whenever he was around and joined the dots herself.

I waited until he got to the front of the line and greeted him with a shy smile, trying not to blush like I normally did

“Hey, Robbe!” he said, grinning “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good” I squeaked “Will it be your usual, today?”

Ok, so maybe small crush was a bit of an understatement. He always seemed to make me tongue tied and act like a complete idiot. Which was a great way to act in front of someone you want to impress.

He nodded “You know me so well. Either that or I am in here too often”

“Nonsense!” Jana called to him “We love having you in here, Sander… some more than others” she muttered under breath, meaning only for me to hear it

As I was making his drink (a chocolate mocha – which was basically just a fancy coffee with chocolate, always with whipped cream on top) he leaned against the counter, making light conversation with Jana and me. He never seemed aware that we were at work and that he might be holding up the queue. Not that there were many of them at that moment. He had come just at the right time, most of the people filing out and going to their jobs.

“So, did that book come that you were talking about?” he asked me

“Um, yeah” I was surprised he remembered. I had made an offhand remark about it a few weeks back. But then, he always did seem to pick up on small details like that often “I got it this morning before I came to work. The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is run home to read it”

“Really?” he said, sounding faintly surprised “You are that eager to read it?”

I turned towards him, placing the steaming cup of coffee on the tray next to the croissant Jana got for him.

“Well, I’ve been waiting for it for so long… it takes priority over everything else as far as I’m concerned”

“You know Robbe” Jana said teasingly from beside me, jabbing me lightly in the side “forever a bookworm”

Sander smiled as he picked up the tray from the counter “When I come back, you’ll have to tell me how you’re finding it”

Just as I was about to reply, Jana jumped in “He’ll only have good things to say. He’s obsessed with this author, won’t shut up about them. It’s kind of annoying actually”

He smirked “Maybe I’ll have to check them out”

“You should!” I told him enthusiastically “Their works are amazing. Even if you aren’t really into reading, this person can have you drawn in with just a page of their writing”

“I don’t doubt that, I’m sure you have impeccable taste” Sander said, winking at me

He often did that but even after weeks of seeing it, I was still blown away each time. He always seemed to take my breath away without even trying.

Sander made his way over to a table, placing his tray down and taking out his small black notebook as normal. It was his daily routine and moved like clockwork every time. I don’t think there has been a single day he has come in when he hasn’t been scribbling away dedicatedly in there, pen moving furiously across the paper.

I was always curious about what he was doing in it, but never dared ask. It could be something deeply personal and private, I wouldn’t want to invade his comfort zone like that.

He was in his own world when he wrote. As soon as the book was opened it was like a protective bubble opened up around him, blocking out anyone and everything from his work. If we wanted to ask if he wanted a refill or anything else to eat, it would take a few tries to get his attention. Sander manages to block it out so easily.

Although it was a similar thing when I read. It was like escaping to another realm where nobody could reach you. Like a haven that you could take shelter in and escape from all your problems, if only for a short amount of time.

#wtfock #wtfam #wtfock fanfic #fanfic

30 notes · View notes

spencer-reids-veins · 4 years ago

Text

Would You Be So Kind? Barista!Reader x Season 5 Spencer Reid

synopsis: you’re one of the baristas at the coffee that Spencer likes to frequent, fluff ensues

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none, just a whole lotta fluff!

You moved quickly behind the counter of the coffee shop you had worked at for nearly 5 years, fixing drinks as if you were in a daze, muscle memory had helped you move efficiently as you worked through the morning line that always formed on Saturdays. You heard the bell at the front of the shop ring as a familiar face entered, a tall lanky man with swoopy brown hair smiled at you as the two of you made eye contact. ‘I’ll cover this one, wait by the pickup station.’ You mouthed at him. He nodded smiling at you and returned with a quick ‘thank you’.

You set to work fixing his usual order, an espresso and a chocolate chip muffin. You smile remembering back to the first time he came into the shop, almost three years ago.

-Flashback-

You were working the register that day, not something you particularly liked but since it was a slow day for customers, you didn’t have to do much. You had actually started to doze off into a daydream until you were abruptly interrupted by the bell at the entrance ringing, signalling that someone had entered.

A tall man with short slicked back brown hair and horn rimmed glasses , dressed in a sweater vest and a brown suit jacket that almost matched his hair walked up to the counter. He seemed nervous, it must have been his first time in the shop.

You smiled at him “what can I get for you today handsome?” you asked him, the words coming out without anything thinking. Your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment as you realized what you had said. “I’m sor-” You said but he cut you off “It’s ok, just not used to people calling me that.” The man responded, nervously adjusting his glasses. “I um-uh, my name’s Spencer.” He added quickly as he fidgeted with his hands.

“What can I get for you today then Spencer?” You asked him winking. “Um just an espresso and uh..” He trailed off peering into the case of baked goods next to the register. “And a chocolate chip muffin as well please.”

As you rang up his order you smiled at him “That’ll be $7.48.” You told Spencer laughing softly as he fumbled pulling out his wallet and counted out the change.

“Thank you very much, I’ll have that ready for you in just a minute.” You told him smiling as you put the money in the register.

-that flashback over, cue more recent one-

After almost two years of seeing Spencer come into the coffee shop and order the same thing, an espresso and a chocolate chip muffin, you had become accustomed to seeing Spencer almost every day. However, suddenly that stopped.

It had been almost two weeks and there had been no sign of him, you had asked your coworkers that had been in when you weren’t working if they had seen him, but none of them could recall Spencer coming into the shop.

You were starting to worry, worry about this strange man that you had only talked to about what kind of coffee he wanted, hell, you didn’t even know his last name.

Part of you wanted to dive into the internet to see if you could find any information on him in the hopes of seeing if you could figure the reasoning for his absence.

You were in the middle of making some fancy nonfat oat milk drink when the entrance bell rang, you looked up out of habit hoping it would be Spencer but instead it was muscular dark skinned man. Definitely not Spencer. You sighed to yourself slightly disappointed, not even fully understanding why you were upset, it’s not like you and Spencer were friends, the only time you saw each other was at the coffee shop.

You finished up the order then went to the register to help the man that had entered. “What can I get you today sir?” You asked him, putting on your customer service smile.

“Um, an espresso and shit give me a minute I don’t want to mess up his order.” The man responded, pulling out his phone and quickly dialled a phone number. “Hey baby girl, do you remember what kind of muffin Reid wanted? I can’t remember if he said blueberry or chocolate chip.” He said into the phone. Suddenly the wheels in your brain started to turn and you began to connect the dots.

“Ok thanks princess.” The man said as he hung up and turned his attention back to you. “A-” “Chocolate chip muffin?” You asked him quickly, accidentally cutting him off.

He gave you a surprised look. “Yeah, how did you know?” He asked quizzically. “Just a guess.” you responded as you shrugged slightly. “Is this for a guy named Spencer by any chance?” You asked him hopefully.

The man looked even more surprised when you asked him that. “Yeah.. how did you guess?” He asked, trying to study your face.

“He came in here like every day, is there something wrong? I haven’t seen him in a while.” You told him, your voice laced with worry.

“He’s um, currently in the hospital, we had an incident at work.” He told you, not sharing many details.

“I’m Derek by the way, Derek Morgan.” He told you. You introduced yourself and gave him his change letting him know that he could wait off to the side for the order.

Derek’s words get replaying in your mind. ‘He’s in the hospital’ those words filled you with more worry than you liked to admit.

After you finished making the order, you grabbed an extra muffin and put it in the bag with the other one with a few napkins, you knew that hospital food wasn’t exactly five star. You wrote out a quick note on another napkin and slipped it into the bag. ‘Spencer, I hope you’re doing alright. Enjoy the extra muffin, hope to see you soon - Y/N :)’

-Flashback over-

You looked at the clock and realized that you were almost done with your shift, you decided that today would be the day you would actually try to talk to Spencer about something other than coffee. You quickly scribbled out a note to put with Spencer’s muffin. ‘I get off work in like 15 minutes, would you want to go to a bookstore with me? I need to pick up some books and I could use the company- Y/N’ you slipped the note into the bag and set it on the counter for Spencer, hoping he’d open the bag before he left the shop.

You had hardly noticed that 15 minutes had passed by, you quickly slipped out from behind the counter and took off your apron.

You finished packing up your things and looked around to see if Spencer was still there. You sighed, slightly disappointed when you didn’t see him inside the shop. As you headed out of the coffee shop, you heard someone call your name behind you.

You turned and saw Spencer running towards you, his hair messy from the cool autumn breeze, you noticed that in one hand he was holding a crumpled napkin, your note. The sight made you smile as he stopped in front of you. “I’m sorry I didn’t see your note right away. I had to do a quick work call and I didn’t see it until after that.” He said, beginning to ramble which made you laugh quietly. “It’s fine, I’m just glad we were able to talk about something other than coffee for once.” You told him, smiling as the two of you started to walk together towards the bookstore that was a few blocks down.

“Did you know that coffee was originally a very religious drink? It originated in Ethiopia, Kenya and Sudan and many Muslim people used it to celebrate Ramadan, they believed that the prophet Muhammed brought humanity coffee as a substitute for wine since Islam forbids the consumption of alcohol.” Spencer told you, his hands moving with his words as the two of you walked.

“I did not.” you responded putting your hand in front of Spencer to stop him from walking directly into traffic. “But did you know that getting hit by a car isn’t the ideal way to spend the first time hanging out with someone?” You told him, only half joking. Your comment made him laugh softly. “Thanks” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed “I get distracted sometimes when I get excited.” He added, his face tinged pink from a mix of embarrassment and the cold.

“Don’t worry about it.” You told him grabbing his hand to pull him across the street after the walk signal lit up.

Spencer seemed surprised at the contact but didn’t say anything as you both made it across the street and to the local bookstore. You didn’t even realize that you were still holding onto Spencer’s hand as you led him inside and over to the fantasy section first.

Once you stopped at one of the shelves, you realized that you were still holding onto Spencer’s hand and quickly let go, embarrassed by your action. You quickly scanned the shelves until you found the book you were looking for. “Bingo.” you said taking it off of the shelf. “Goldman huh?” Spencer asked you, looking at the cover and cracking a smile. “Do you have an issue with S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love Spencer Reid?” You responded as you raised an eyebrow at him. “No none at all, I actually really enjoyed it, I remember reading it when I was six, my dad gave me a copy for my birthday.” He said quickly, trying to backtrack in case he had said something wrong.

“I was just kidding, don't worry.” You told Spencer with a smile as you started walking over to the poetry section, he followed close behind you. “So, romance novels and poetry huh? You don’t really strike me as the cheesy story type.” Spencer mused as you squatted down to grab a copy of A Scattering by Christopher Reid, you laughed quietly to yourself realizing he and Spencer had the same last name. “And what type of book lover do I strike you as Spencer?” you responded with a smirk, interested to hear his response.

“Well, I would guess more realistic fiction or even science fiction. Many of those types of books can be used as a form of escapism from our daily boring lives. Seeing as you work at a coffee shop and you don’t really seem like a super adventurous person, I’d make the conclusion that you find your adventures in books rather than in real life.” Spencer told you. Your heart dropped slightly as you heard what he said. “Wait you think I’m boring?” You asked him, suddenly upset.

“What? N-no Y/N, I was just saying that people tend to use books as their way to escape-”

“From their boring lives yeah I heard that.” You interrupted him crossly. “So you think that I have a boring life, is that it Spencer? Is that what you concluded about me and what kinds of books I like to read?” You said as you narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for him to respond.

“I am so sorry if you thought that’s what I meant, it didn’t come out the way I meant it to. I don’t think you’re boring at all, very far from that in fact. You just don’t really exhibit many adventurous traits, you seem like you would find more interest in reading about other people’s adventures as opposed to taking part in them yourself. I’m the same way, books are about the only way I can lose myself and take a break from reality.” Spencer said quickly, trying to undo that damage he had done without thinking.

The tension in your chest started to disappear as he apologized. “I’m sorry, I lashed out at you, I’m not great at the whole socializing thing.” You told him, now embarrassed about yelling at Spencer.

“Don’t worry about it, I need to work on thinking before speaking. At least, that’s what my friend Derek tells me.” He said waving you off.

For the next 15 minutes, you and Spencer just wandered throughout the bookstore aimlessly. You watched as Spencer examined each book he took off the shelves, his fingers following the lines as his eyes darted across the page. ‘Just ask him already stupid.’ you thought to yourself, suddenly you decided to just take the plunge and break the silence. “Hey um Spencer, can I ask you a question?” You asked him. Your words cause his head to raise. “I mean, you just asked me one, but sure, what is it?” He asked you.

You took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, do you want to get dinner or something together sometime?” You asked him, bracing yourself for the worst. “And you can obviously say no if you don’t want to, I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to.” You quickly added.

“Like a date?” were the only three words he said in response.

“Yeah- i mean no! I mean, it doesn’t have to be if you don’t it to be, but if you don’t want to I completely understand and-” Your nervous ramble was cut off a pair of lips on your mouth, Spencer’s lips.

The two of you froze in that position for what seemed like an eternity until you pulled away instinctively.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Spencer said quickly, his face turning red. “I just-” You cut him off by moving in to kiss him again. Spencer was surprised but moved his hands to cup the sides of your face, pulling you in closer.

When you both finally pulled away. Spencer’s face was bright red and he looked down at his hands, embarrassed. “I’ve uh, wanted to do that for a while now.” He mumbled, now embarrassed

“I have too.” You admitted, your face equally as red.

“So um, do you want to have that dinner date tonight?” He asked you

“Who said it was going to be a date?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I just thought that,” He said quickly

“I’m just kidding Spencer, a dinner date tonight sounds absolutely perfect.” You told him, smiling which made his body relax. “You really need to stop taking things so seriously Spencer.” You told him, poking his nose gently which made him laugh softly. “I get that you’re a scary FBI agent doctor thing but sometimes you just have to be carefree and in the moment.” You added teasingly, kissing his cheek gently.

“Wait how did you know I work for the FBI?” Spencer questioned with a confused look on his face. “Google.” was your only response as you kept walking through the store. “You’re kinda popular apparently. With all of your essays and articles and such.” You told him, stopping at a shelf to browse the selection of science fiction. “Wait you’ve read my essays?” Spencer asked you, surprised that you took an interest in his work. “Yeah a few of them, I really enjoyed the one you wrote about how events in childhood can rapidly evolve into behavioral changes into adulthood.” You responded mindlessly as you kept looking at the shelves.

“Y-you did?” Spencer asked you with a bashful smile, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Yes Agent Reid that’s what I said.” You told him rolling your eyes slightly.

“It’s Doctor.” He mumbled under his breath slightly, an action out of habit. You turned around hearing his words and looked at him “oh I know that too, it’s just fun seeing you all flustered and embarrassed. You’re so adorable.” You said with a smile and a wink. “And if you play your cards right tonight, maybe I’ll be calling you something other than Doctor or Agent.” You added winking again and giggling quietly as Spencer lost the ability for words, his face bright red. “I um..” Spencer trailed off, not knowing quite what to say.

You quickly realized that might’ve been a little too blunt and began to get embarrassed yourself. “I’m sorry if that made this whole thing weird, I’m not used to how this type of thing works.” You confessed, your face quickly turned a bright red shade which made Spencer laugh and lean in to whisper in your ear. “Well you’ll definitely get used to it tonight.” He said in a voice almost like a purr that sent a shiver down your spine. His words made you turn towards him quickly. “What are you trying to say Doctor Reid? Are you insinuating that you’re going to fuck me tonight?” You responded, raising an eyebrow at him. You had expected him to get flustered again but Spencer did quite the opposite. “Maybe.” He told you with a smirk, causing your face to turn bright red.

“Come on.” You told him, regaining your composure as you grabbed his hand. “Let’s blow this pop stand.” You said, pulling him towards the register to pay for your books.

A/N: asdfjh this is my first ever time transferring stories from another site and also the first time i’ve really ever used tumblr so i apologize if anything is amiss!-M

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #fluff

7 notes · View notes

stevengeworth · 3 years ago

Text

The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said.

The question was, in fact, this,—whether it is so important to hold African slaves neve e sale amazonthat it is proper to deprive free Americans of the liberty of conscience, and liberty of speech, and liberty of the press, in order to do it. 16, No. Forward looking statements cannot be relied upon due to, amongst other things, changing external events and general uncertainties of the business. Which should I choose for this week's column? Then it came to me, why not write about a fantasy team that could represent our nation to

oakley m frame ice iridium

the rest of the world.. NRBQ for much of their career would

pantofi sport cu scai barbati

pass around a smučarski kombinezon hlače "magic box" that let fans drop in names of any number they could think of. The knight dismounted, then hammered on the door until a haggard slave with a horsehead on his cheek came running. “The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. We sell them crabs and fish and goat cheese, they sell us wood and wool and hides. BANG! BANG! BANG! Bullets rip through the plane's cabin. Jon twisted from the knife, just enough so it barely grazed his skin. “You needn’t ask, my good soul, that you needn’t. One of the mates was on the sterncastle, and amidships Moqorro sat by his brazier, where a few small flames still danced amongst the embers.. This is especially important for files that do not change often and provides more recovery options for files outside of the overarching retention policies in place across the customer's organization. Just try to avoid buyer's remorse by making sure you really want to drop this much money on a system while such configurations are fun to play with, systems costing half as much can offer very close to the same performance.And that's a wrap. “And many more. She’s fifteen by now, still in pinafores, poor thing! Her parents were delighted. In comparison with other Nike shoes, these shoes are hard wearing.. Dress practical and comfortablyWithout doubt, your outfit affects how you feel and could be a source of stress. Since we keep track of this stuff now, the Giants are now 2 1 on replay review. Infidels point to it with triumph; and America, too, is beholding another class of infidels,—a class that could have grown up only cazadora vaquera tommy hilfiger under such an influence. He added much to the team in his career with the Avs. She had bites all over her, little red bumps, itchy and inflamed. Your king brings us only enemies.” Ser Marlon turned to his lord cousin. Is an award winning, independent Hawaii based news and opinion journal founded in 2001 and launched in February 2002. Call 202 483 2600 ext. It just a different thing. And playing on the offensive line is what he could end up doing in the CFL, even though he fancies himself a defensive tackle. To those who choose to say falsities about my business you will be dealt with accordingly. Not only had he stood her champion on Nagga’s hill and shouted out her name, but he had even crossed the sea to join her afterward, abandoning his king and kin and home. Mens ADIDAS ORIGINALS I should have gone myself. I wish you to obtain free papers for me, and forward them to me at Marksville, Louisiana, Parish of Avovelles, and oblige.. There's no indication it will take off anytime soon. "He (Jennings) shows a lot of poise in the pocket," said Alouettes defensive coordinator Noel Thorpe. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. Beloved husband of Barbara Bailey (Falls). A. Squat down in the same way you'd sit into a chair by pushing your hips back, then bending your knees. John R. "These reports, Mr. The effort was funded by Google's Art, Copy, Code project, which seeks to translate "how Silicon Valley thinks about technology into how creative agencies think about advertising.". Crime 17 hours ago Local Man punches teen 39 times in Planet Fitness parking lot: police. “Much and more,” said the overseer. Hill, the 26th overall pick in the 2008 NBA draft, finished tied for second in the Most Improved Player of the Year voting last year after a breakout season with San Antonio, where he averaged 12.4 points and 2.9 assists per game.. Othell Yarwyck was as stolid and unimaginative as he was taciturn, and the First Rangers seemed to die as quick as they were named. Next a bull was set against a bear in a bloody battle that left both animals torn and dying. 42.) The death which is the wages of sin is this cizme vara cu toc everlasting fire prepared for the devil and his angels. Cersei never saw where Qyburn came from, but suddenly he was there beside them, scrambling to keep up with her champion’s long strides. The fishmongers were out adidas retro schuhe männerin strength, crying the morning catch. Your Grace, leave the wildlings here. “My lord father used to say a man should never draw his sword unless he means to use it.”. Il peut galement s'avrer judicieux d'opter pour un produit homologu Energy Star, dot d'un moteur peu nergivore et qui garantit une rcupration de chaleur minimale de 65

pantaloni elisabetta franchi saldi

%. Having said that my fella has a pair of black classics and a pair of white adidas and it doesn't bother me. The Mi Max is backed by a 4,850mAh battery which is non removable. I looked round quickly, and — the door actually was opening, softly, noiselessly, just as I had imagined it a minute before. “I am dreaming,” she said. But who are the masters and who are the servants, truly? Every great lord has his maester, every lesser lord aspires to one. From the publisher: In 'Inside the Mind of a Teen Killer,' Phil Chalmers explores the reasons why teens kill; the warning signs we must be looking for; and biciclete pret offers a game plan to keep our homes, schools, and communities safe. Neither man would speak about Lord Manderly or King Stannis or the Freys, but they would talk of other things. 52nd and Woodstock Boulevard. The church, he says, is one body, and that body is the fulness of Him who filleth all in all. On the other hand, Down syndrome kids are highly enthusiastic. The Montreal company has been trying to pass along some of its additional costs to vacationers. “We have to make them like us. We have to say we were really unsure of whether or not you were going to have Nick and Jess end up together or actually have Cece get married throughout the entire finale! Was it like that for you guys while mapping out the season?. Scored four goals in 22 minutes against Newburyport in the regular season . Of course, that wouldn be the case with the many who adopted the slogan that is, But Canadiens. Deegan was back for more, his influence blighted by a spilled ball.The home side turned the screw in a scrum to earn a penalty. I looked at the author’s name, and said, ‘O, yes; anything from that lady I will read;’ otherwise I should have disregarded a work of fiction without such a title.. Many have said that the Mountain West has taken a step back from last year when the conference sent five teams to the NCAA Tournament and finished the year rated No.

1 note · View note

xe-company · 2 years ago

Text

KIKUMOTO SAYOKO [LE SSERAFIM] PROFILE & FACTS

➢ BASICS

STAGE NAME: Sayo

BIRTH NAME: Kikumoto Sayoko

NATIONALITY: Japanese

BIRTH PLACE: Kyoto, Japan

BIRTHDAY: February 9th, 2004

ZODIAC SIGN: Aquarius

HEIGHT: 158 cm (5’2″)

WEIGHT: 43 kg (94 lbs)

BLOOD TYPE: AB

➢ SOCIAL MEDIA

INSTAGRAM: @ kikumyoko

TWITTER: @ sayooo.kik

YOUTUBE: natsukashii (懐かしい)

➢ GROUP INFORMATION

GROUP: LE SSERAFIM

SUB UNIT: N/A

POSITION: Main Rapper, Dancer, Visual

FACE + VOICE CLAIMS: COCONA [XG]

➢ FACTS

She is the youngest and first Japanese soloist to be signed under XECOMPANY.

Was in the original line up for LE SSERAFIM but was replaced with GARAM due to her having a sudden health issue that caused her to have her spot replaced.

She was given the choice to rejoin the lineup after GARAM left; it was announced before their second comeback of ANTIFRAGILE.

Her last name means chrysanthemum.

Her first name means a few things but her mom says she uses it in the definition of ‘evening child’ and ‘protection of evil’.

A nickname she used to be called when she was younger is Small Flower.

She has a Youtube channel where she posts vlogs and travel videos.

She is the third most followed member of social media.

She would like to act in a few dramas; specifically a thriller or psychological one [WEEKLY IDOL].

It is rumored that she could be releasing a solo album in the next couple years [Fan Twitter Thread].

#⚓. ─── IF WALLS COULD TALK // [LE SSERAFIM ADDITION]#⚓. ─── SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE // [FICTIONAL COMPANY]#xecompany #XP entertainment #xperience entertainment #kpop addition #lesserafim addition #lesserafim 6th member #le sserafim addition #le sserafim 6th member #kpop oc group addition

40 notes · View notes

redrumrecords · 1 year ago

Text

LEE YESEUL // YUL // CHIYO M.LIST

KPROFILE AND BASIC FACTS

___

THE CONNECTIONS

WITHIN TWICE

OTHER JYP GROUPS

OUTSIDE OF TWICE + JYP

___

THE RELATIONSHIPS

CRUSHES

FORMER SIGNIFICANT OTHERS

CURRENT SIGNIFICANT OTHER

___

A PEEK INSIDE HER:

PHONE

PHOTO GALLERY

CONTACT NAMES [TWICE] + [OTHER ARTISTS]

INSTAGRAM

TWITTER

BUBBLE

VLIVES / LIVESTREAMS

GROUP CHATS

CALL LOGS

STYLE

SPOTIFY OVERVIEW / SPOTIFY PLAY HISTORY

MEET&GREETS

THE YOUTUBE VIDEOS

THE ARTICLES

___

THE ERAS + DISCOGRAPHY OF TWICE

[KOREAN RELEASES]

[JAPANESE RELEASES]

[REPACKAGED ALBUMS]

[OTHER / ENGLISH VERSIONS / DIGITAL]

___

#🁫. ─── IT'S A ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY! // [TWICE ADDITION]#🁫. ─── IT'S A ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY! // [TWICE 10TH MEMBER]#🁫. ─── NOW PRESENTING... // [ADDITIONAL GROUP MEMBER]#🁫. ─── LOOK WHO WE HAVE HERE // [GROUP ADDITION]#➴. ─── SIGN ON THE DOTTED LINE | [FICTIONAL COMPANY]#➴. ─── COMING SOON... | [QUEUED]#➴. ─── EVEN WHEN YOURE NOT HERE YOURE HERE | [EXTRA EXTRA PRODUCTIONS]#kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop group addition #fictional kpop community #fictional idol community #fictional kpop company

3 notes · View notes

queenofcarrots · 5 years ago

Text

Manuscripts in Star Wars (And Star Wars Fan Fiction)

This is the text of a talk originally presented at the conference Fan Cultures and the Premodern World at Oxford University in July, 2019, organized by Dr. Juliana Dresvina of the Oxford History Faculty. This presentation represents a collaboration between myself and Dr Brandon Hawke of Rhode Island College, and is essentially a summation of our video project Sacred Texts: Codices Far, Far Away, (Introduction to the series at that link) and examples below will include links to brief conversations where Brandon and I talk about the examples in a bit more detail. This has also been posted on my academic blog but I’m cross-posting here to reach a different audience.

Hi, My name is Dot Porter, and I want to start by thanking Juliana for the wonderful organization of this conference, and also for including me in the program. This is very different from the kind of conference I normally present at – in my day job I’m a special collections curator at the University of Pennsylvania, specializing in medieval manuscripts, their digitization, and their post-digital lives. Basically I get paid to digitize medieval manuscripts and then play with them. (I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the Bibliotheca Philadelphiensis project, funded by the Council on Library and Information Resources, which is just finished, and through which we digitized and made available for reuse more than 465 codices from institutions in Philadelphia)

Aside from my family there are two things in life I adore: medieval manuscripts, and Star Wars. I must admit that while I am a scholar of manuscripts, of a sort, I am also a fan. I love manuscripts – the way they look, feel, smell; I love to hold a manuscript and think about all the other people who have touched it, and consider the signs of use that imply their long histories. This interest has led to current work on conceiving of medieval manuscripts as transformative works themselves, first presented at Leeds 2018 and work I’m continuing looking specifically as Books of Hours. (My original draft of this presentation featured some of this work, but it threatened to take over, so I axed it all; a blog post of my Leeds paper is on my blog, if you’re curious).

While I am arguably a manuscript scholar, I am most definitely not a scholar of fandom studies – you will, I’m sure, find my theory wanting – nor am I a scholar of Star Wars, but I am a fan. I do the things that fans do. I’m on Tumblr, although that platform is pretty dead now, and I have a fandom Twitter account, which is much more active. I write and consume fan fiction, and I regularly commission artwork to illustrate my stories and stories I would like to write. I have written exactly one notable meta, which was even picked up by the AV Club – they actually cited me, unlike many of the other websites, which only cited the person who stole my work and posted it on Reddit!

In Star Wars: The Last Jedi, released in December 2017, we were introduced, for the first time, to manuscripts in the Star Wars universe. I had avoided trailers and spoilers, so the first time I saw this was in the theater, and I was, as the kids say, shooketh. Not only one manuscript, but a whole shelf-full of them! And they’re important. Rey, our heroine, has been sent to the island of Ahch-to to bring Luke Skywalker back to help the Resistance, led by Luke’s sister General Leia Organa, defeat the First Order. Rey has been there for a day or so, following Luke around, making no headway, when she is called to the Uneti tree, a large, hollow, Force-sensitive tree that houses these manuscripts. It’s in the company of these books that Rey and Luke finally communicate with each other, when Rey admits that she has only recently come to the Force and that she needs Luke to train her to be a Jedi, and when Luke grudgingly agrees to give her some lessons, but also tells her that the Jedi must die. Exciting stuff, and the books are there to hear it.

According to Star Wars The Last Jedi: The Visual Dictionary, Luke Skywalker scoured the galaxy for these texts and collected them himself, storing them in the tree that we see in the film. So these texts weren’t originally all in one collection, they are from many different planets, potentially written in ten different places, ten different times, ten different languages and alphabets, although there’s only one we ever see in the film. The starwars.com blog post “Inside the Lucasfilm Archives: The Jedi Texts” gives us an up-close look at the prop book that was shown in the film; as you can see it’s a real book, written and bound, and even damaged. There are manuscripts in our collection at Penn that look not very unlike this book. It is a real manuscript.

This is one manuscript in the universe. What else do we know about manuscripts in star wars in general? To be honest: not much. But we do know that it is rare to write by hand (as opposed to writing with digital technology like data pads). In Claudia Gray’s novel Bloodlines, which takes place six years before The Last Jedi, Leia Organa is preparing for a fancy party when she finds a handwritten note at her seat, and she’s shocked: “Virtually nobody wrote any longer; it had been years since Leia had seen actual words handwritten in ink on anything but historical documents.” So it appears that, by the time the current films take place, there are no longer manuscripts being actively written in the galaxy, or at least it’s very rare.

Interestingly there is one character in the Sequel Trilogy who it is suggested knows how to write by hand: Kylo Ren, formerly Ben Solo. There is a scene – the same scene is actually shown three times, from three different points of view – where a young padawan Ben is sleeping and his Uncle, Luke Skywalker, comes to him and looks into his head, sensing great darkness in his dreams. Ben calls his lightsaber to either attack his uncle or defend himself against him, depending on the version of the scene, and in one of these shots we can see that he has a calligraphy set in his bedroom. We can see the set here, in a screenshot of his desk just before he calls his lightsaber over – which knocks over the pen and inkwell and jar of parchment scrolls in the process – and in The Art of Star Wars: The Last Jedi.

What else do we know about these specific books? There is concept art in The Art of Star Wars: The Last Jedi; including six internal pages and six shots of the bindings.

I remember looking at the concept art and thinking how alike and different they were from the manuscripts I’ve had the pleasure of working with at Penn, and I discovered that my Twitter mutual Brandon Hawke, an Assistant Professor of English at Rhode Island College, was having many of the same thoughts that I was. So in October of 2018, Brandon came down to Penn and we sat for hours in front of a green screen and talked about manuscripts and Star Wars, comparing books in the Penn collections to what we see of the manuscripts in the concept art. We’ve been posting snippets of our discussions on the Schoenberg Institute YouTube channel, and there’s a link at the top there if you want to check them out. So for most of the rest of this paper I’ll be walking through some of the possible comparisons between real manuscripts and the Star Wars manuscripts. I want to stress that we did this for fun, and not for science, and that we’re limited by the collections at Penn and by our own knowledge.

Consider yourself warned: The remainder of this presentation is essentially an educated fan, raving.

As far as Brandon and I have been able to determine, this is a previously unknown script in the Star Wars universe. When I saw it my mind immediately went to Ge’ez, shown here in an early 20th century book of Hymns from Ethiopia. There’s something about the blockiness that is just slightly curved, and a few of the letter forms are slightly similar although I don’t think that’s necessarily meaningful. (video)

We also made a comparison with Coptic, which is thinner, more curved, and perhaps a closer match. (video)

For the third example we looked not at the text, but at its layout on the page. We found a similarity with this 16th century collection of Persian poetry, both its illuminated header (similar in aspect to the illuminated blue line of text in the center of the ancient Jedi text) and the framing of the text. (video)

Aside from text, it is clear that the concept art of pages supplied to us here represent astronomical texts. This is really not surprising, considering that in the Star Wars universe we have a galaxy that seems to have been very closely connected, between planets and cultures, for a very long time, and so it makes sense that even the most ancient texts would be concerned with objects in the system – stars and planets and moons – and how they related to and interact with one another. And this is a major concern in medieval astronomical texts, too: these texts illustrate people trying to make sense of the system they live in, in the best way they know.

One of the pages in the jedi texts is the symbol of the Galactic Republic, but placed on some kind of chart, with characters dispersed through the chart and text – perhaps labels – along the outside. We found a similarity with this chart in LJS 57, a 14th century astronomical anthology from Spain. I don’t know exactly what this chart represents but I can tell you that astronomical texts are full of similar charts; it was one of the ways that medieval people made sense of the data they had available to them. (video)

Something similar is happening here, in LJS 449, a 15th century German medical and astronomical miscellany. These charts are perhaps a bit simpler than the Spanish chart, but they have that attractive blue coloring. Both the coloring and the arrangement of data around the circle reminded Brandon and me of the diagrams on this page of the Jedi texts. (video)

The next three slides show diagrams from LJS 26, a mid-13th century copy of Johannes de Sacro Bosco’s, Algorismus and Tractatum de sphaera, an immensely popular text that was copied and translated and commented upon from the time it was written in the early 13th century (it is possible that our copy was written during Sacrobosco’s lifetime) through the 16th century. It is full of diagrams illustrating the movement of the planets, and the sun, and the moon in relation to the earth. I personally find these diagrams most reminiscent of the two pages on the bottom left, although I feel like their organization suggests a sense of scale that is lacking in the medieval diagrams. (video)

Medieval astronomers only had to think about the earth, and the moon, and the sun, and a few other planets. On the other hand, the Star Wars universe operates on a whole other level – a galaxy with countless star systems and planets that aren’t even charted. When I look at these diagrams I see a clever attempt to illustrate scale using the relatively primitive technology of ink and paper in place of the star charts and 3D maps that we see in the films.

On the other hand, there are some really simple 1:1 comparisons to be made, such as this diagram, which pretty clearly illustrates the phases of a moon. (video)

I want to take a quick look at the bindings of these manuscripts, particularly this piece of concept art, which is quite similar to the prop that we see in the film.

This has a fairly standard binding structure, quite similar to LJS 102, the Ethiopic manuscript we looked at earlier, except for the front cover, which is built of three separate pieces that are obviously connected together. In western bindings, if a wooden cover were a composite of multiple pieces, we would expect that to be obscured, as in this late 13th century Catalonian manuscripts (It’s hard to tell, which is the point, but this cover is made of three pieces of wood).

The only example of a cover like this I’ve seen is from the Walters Art Museum, this 14th century Ethiopian Gospel book. The cover was broken and then sewn back together, but this was the result of an accident, not done on purpose.

My colleague Alberto Campagnolo also suggested that it is similar to the Chinese practice of writing on bamboo strips and binding them together, as in this 18th century example.

This is one instance where the artists who created these concepts have done an excellent job with suggesting a manuscript culture – in fact, several manuscript cultures, cultures that use what is available to them. There are two manuscripts here that appear to be bound in decorated tusks, one that has what appear to be shells embedded in a leather binding, and another that might be bound in hairy skin or – I like to think – had the binding grown on it underground. In any case these all suggest books written in different places, perhaps at different times, and as a manuscript scholar I find that fascinating.

Following up on this I wanted to see how the concept of the manuscripts was received by writers of fan fiction. As a fan author myself I have written a few stories featuring the ancient Jedi texts, but given my interests that made sense; I was curious to see what other authors have done with them. I think there’s more extensive work to be done here, but in reading through the 40 or so stories I was able to find (by searching AO3 for ancient jedi texts, and the “jedi text” tag) I discovered not surprisingly that the stories focused on the text of the books, not on their physical appearance (which is at least partially due to fan fiction being a written medium, vs. film being a visual medium) and that there are three main themes that can appear by themselves or be combined:

Rey can read the texts on her own, or she needs help (Kylo Ren, C3PO, Obi Wan Kenobi’s force ghost)

The translation is used to further the story (whether or not it happens)

The texts do something (e.g., magic spells)

What will happen next? Will there be manuscripts in the Rise of Skywalker, the final film in this last trilogy? Of course I hope so, and it seems likely. The Uneti tree was struck by lightning and burned, but Rey took the manuscripts with her (here is a screenshot of a drawer in the Millennium Falcon, at the very end of the film, showing the books clearly safe and tucked away)

and in the Poe Dameron comic #27 we learn that Rey has been working with C3PO to translate the texts.

And there’s also the spectre of Kylo Ren with a calligraphy set; if he had access to these manuscripts when he was studying with Luke Skywalker, it’s possible that he has read and perhaps even annotated some of the books. Only time will tell, and I for one can’t wait for December.

#star wars #meta #manuscripts #ancient jedi texts #jedi texts #medieval manuscripts

484 notes · View notes

what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Stark Spangled Banner Ch19: Cut Off One Head...

Summary: The Avengers have been tracking Hydra for a number of months now, systematically making their way through each base that their intel provides them...but a routine business trip turns out to be something far more sinister than Katie and Tony were planning for...

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, bad language, angst...

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: The next few chapters take a bit of a dark turn...warnings will be detailed.

Tag list is open- Send me an ask

Open for suggestions to one-shots as well

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist

September 2014

“I’m not saying that I’m not open to the idea. I just don’t understand why you think we need to buy the firm,“ Katie said for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. Tony glared at her and simply shook his head as he sat waiting in the reception area of the office block in Minnesota. “I’m not even gonna ask what you were doing that kept you up so late you clearly didn’t get enough sleep last night you cranky brat.” Katie rolled her eyes but she felt a small smirk pulling at her lips as she remembered very well the events of last night as Steve had quite frankly lost his shit at the fact she was wearing the new baby blue lace matching underwear set he had bought her just because he wanted to, but she caught herself, “Sleep or lack of, has nothing to do with it. I’m serious, Tony. We don’t need it”. “Investing” he said holding his finger up “building the brand. That’s what business is all about.” She groaned “Thanks for the lesson on running a business, you know, in case I didn’t know how to, but that is NOT the vision I have for SIP.” “Look, you said yourself when this proposal landed on your desk you were curious.” “I am!” She protested, and she was. From the research they had done, the company that had approached them, Hall General Publishers LTD, held the same ideas as SIP, except they focused on Biographies that were published in series magazines. They had reached out to SIP for a potential collaboration on a fiction series that they had been approached to run and felt it was out of their field, but they were keen to see if they could join forces. It had instantly caught Katie’s attention and imagination but as usual Tony had gone off on one and suggested they buy the smaller company out. “I’m curious about their proposal, and the potential to do business, collaborate yes, but not take over!” “Look, it’s a day out of the office, chance to forget about Tin Man and Hydra” Tony shrugged and Katie gave a groan of frustration again. “And their profits are pretty impressive. We can use them, keep their brand…” “Whatever” she said as she glanced around at the foyer. It was clinical, white, all clean lines. Nothing like the entrance to Stark, sorry Avengers Tower as it was now called .Mind you, that was to be expected from a ‘rent an office’. Eddie Hall, the MD of HGP had requested the meeting take place away from either of their offices to avoid anyone catching news of the potential collaboration and had arranged to hire a room at block some 10 miles outside of Saint Paul. Tony had shrugged when Katie questioned it, saying it wasn’t unusual for people to hire external meeting venues in order to keep things under the radar. “Miss Stark? Mr Stark, I’m so sorry,” the dark haired man hurrying across the foyer said. He was about 6 foot tall, slim, and was wearing a sharp black suit. Both Katie and Tony stood up, Tony extending a hand.

“Mr Hall I presume?”

“Yes…” the man said, shaking both their hands “Sorry to keep you waiting, I had to ensure the room was ready…“

“It’s only a few minutes.” Katie said smiling at him, “No apologies necessary.”

They followed him into the elevator and he selected the top floor and turned to the siblings

“Thank you for coming out here. I know the cloak and dagger thing is probably a bit much but I don’t want people getting wind of it. There’s a few changes coming at the company and I don’t want any of them making any assumptions…” “Understandable.” Tony sniffed, looking around the elevator.

They emerged onto the top floor, and he led them left down the corridor. Katie looked around, the whole place smelt of paint and there was decorating equipment dotted around. She frowned. “It’s a new office facility.” Hall explained, looking at her. “Owned by a friend of mine and they’re still kitting it all out. But he said this was the best room to use. It’s mocked up like a board room you see…” Katie nodded and shared a look with Tony, she was starting to feel ever so slightly uneasy. Tony just shook his head and patted his pocket where his trusty Iron gauntlet cuff sat. Neither of them had come with their suits, this was supposed to be a straight forward business meeting after all. But she took a deep breath, she was probably just being over sensitive after everything that had happened recently...

Hall stopped outside a door to the left and opened the room, revealing nothing but darkness. "Oh, sorry,” Hall let out a sigh of frustration, sweeping into the room. “Yes. Let me just… find the lights.” Tony looked at Katie, arching an eyebrow.

No window? he mouthed at her, his hand slipping into his pocket as they stepped into the room, Katie not quite sure they should be to be honest but… “Yes. Here we go,” the man said brightly, flipping on the light and flooding the small room with light as the door slammed shut behind them.

That’s why it didn’t have a window. It was a fucking storage room. And it contained three men in dark suits standing before them, each with a rifle trained on their chests. Katie instantly stopped, drawing a deep breath of shock. Besides her she saw Tony in the corner of her eye quickly move to pull the cuff from the depth of his pocket, but he suddenly stumbled forward and fell immediately, the cuff flying out of his hand as the man they knew as Mr Hall stepped round them both and leaned against the wall to their right.

Katie spun round to see another man to the left and her eyes widened as she instantly recognised him.

“Grant?“ She frowned, looking up at the face of her ex "What… what’s going on? "You know, I thought when you dumped all those files on the internet you might have actually read them.” He smirked, stepping forward and glancing down at Tony who had sat up and was watching him, his face contorted with hatred and rage. Katie swallowed as she took in his words before she shook her head as her eyes grew wide in sudden understanding.

“Heil Hydra.” Ward’s smile spread further across his face.

The agents around the room started to close in. One of them, a larger built man who reminded her a little of Rumlow spoke in a deep voice.

“This is the one you say we need?” Ward nodded and at that point Tony slowly got to his feet, backing up, placing himself between his sister and the man who is advancing on her, the two of them backing towards the door.

“Need me for what?” Katie said, her voice soft as her back hit the wooden surface.

“Answers.” The large man said, looking bored at Tony’s display of protectiveness.

“About what?” She said, a bit louder this time.

“Well, you see Kay…” Ward said and Katie turned to her left to look at him as Tony emitted a low growl in his throat at the use of his old pet name for her, Ward chuckled before he started again “We’ve had a bit of a problem since you and your boyfriend, sorry fiancée, congratulations on that by the way…” he smiled, and she glared at him in response “Yes, ever since you took down SHIELD, we’ve been a little bit on the back foot, constantly watching our backs, trying to figure out where SHIELD or the Avengers are going to pop up next. So we figured, we needed a bit of inside intel.” The larger officer yanked Katie’s arm and pulled her out from between the door and Tony, flinging her into the middle of the room where another one of the agents grabbed her. Another one stepped quickly in front of her brother, blocking his path to her.

“Ok, stop…” Tony held his hands up, turning back to Ward and the other man. “If you want someone, take me. I’m more involved in the Avengers anyway…“

His voice was level but Katie could hear a level of desperation.

“Yeah, much as I’d love to take you in for a kicking Tony, the problem is she’s the only one of you who knows he’s alive and what he’s likely to be doing so…” “Knows who is alive?” Tony frowned as Katie swallowed thickly. Coulson, that’s the only person they could be talking about. But before she could say anything one of the agents butt Tony hard in the back of the head with the handle of his gun and he fell to the floor.

Katie yelled out and started towards him, but the Agent holding her tightened his grip on her arm to the point of it being painful.

“Now you’re gonna come with us, out of this building, quietly, no fuss and no escape attempts” the big man spoke to her “Otherwise Ward here is gonna put a bullet in his head” “And how do I know you’re not gonna do that anyway?” she said, through her tears.

“Because it’s more trouble than its worth.” Ward said “And frankly, the thought of him alive, worrying about you is far more satisfying.” Katie glanced down at her brother, who was starting to push himself up, until Ward kicked him hard in the ribs and he collapsed, groaning, as Ward hit him on the back of the head again, knocking him out.

“Alright, alright…” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ll come. Just leave him alone.” She was shoved harshly forward, her heeled feet slipping slightly as the door was pulled open. She stopped suddenly, turning to Ward. “You better watch your back.” she looked at him “When Steve finds out about this you’re a dead man.” Ward chuckled “In a bit sweetheart.” She was shoved forward again, and managed one glance over her shoulder at Tony who was sprawled on the floor before she was shoved out of the room.

***** Tony groaned, as he pushed himself up slowly, the room spinning.

“Kiddo?” he croaked, as he looked around. He was alone, no sign of anyone. He scrambled across the floor, and tried the door which was locked, before he slumped heavily against it, his trembling hands started to feel his suit pockets. His phone was gone, of course, as was his cuff and Katie’s laptop. He lay his head back against the door as he started to piece together what had happened. It was an ambush, Ward…Hydra…

Hydra had his sister. For information. About someone no one knew was alive? Were they referring to Fury? He ran his hand over his face again, and was just about to think about screaming in the vain hope they heard him on reception, but he stopped, suddenly. They hadn’t taken his watch.

Thick Hydra bastards.

With shaky fingers he pressed the button at the side and the face lit up orange.

"Yes, sir?“ JARVIS spoke and Tony almost gave a sob of relief before he spoke a simple instruction, all he can think to blurt out before he gives into the throbbing in his head once more.

“Alert Captain Rogers. Send help.”

***** Steve was in the now finished training room with Thor. The pair of them were currently debating if the large room would stand up to them trying out a new move- Thor hitting Steve’s shield with his hammer to create the same wave it had done in the forest that time. It was useful, and Steve was thinking about perfecting it, seeing if it could be directed in anyway.

“What metal is it made from anyway?” Steve nodded to Mjolnir as Thor was throwing it up and down.

“It was forged from the heart of a dying star- Nidevalir…” Thor said, as Steve picked up his shield.

“It’s made from a star?”

“No, metal, which was forged by a star.” Thor corrected.

Steve was about to comment that he still hadn’t answered the question when a red light started flashing in the corner of the room, along with a low siren, and Jarvis’ voice cut across them.

“Captain Rogers, Mr Stark has just sent a distress signal.”

Steve instantly looked at Thor, swallowing slightly. “A distress…they were on a business trip. “I’ve no other details other than to alert you and send help.” There was a loud clap of thunder and Steve turned to see Thor was now clad in his armour and the God nodded at him as the two of them sprinted from the room. Steve’s mouth was dry and his mind was running overtime about what trouble they could possibly be in, but as they headed down the corridor to the armoury he found his voice.

“JARVIS, tell everyone to suit up and meet at the jet, now.” “Of course Captain. I’ve patched the location through to the jet.”

“I’m sure they will be fine.” Thor offered as some attempt at re-assurance. But as Steve picked shrugged on the top half of his uniform and grabbed his utility belt he didn’t feel very re-assured.

Maria Hill met them in the hangar “I heard the signal, is everything ok?” “Tony and Katie…” Steve said, “They were at a business meeting but Tony just sent out a distress signal.” Maria looked at him and then nodded “I’ll start doing some digging into who they were meeting.”

He nodded, and strode up the ramp to the jet. They’d been in the air about 30 minutes when Maria patched through to them

“I don’t know who they were meeting but it isn’t Eddie Hilll” she sighed “He was reported missing three days ago by his wife.”

“So whoever took them got to him first.” Nat said, looking at Steve. “Took him out, replaced him with an imposter”

“And it’s probably safe to assume he’s dead.” Steve said, flatly. “Hill, start doing some digging. Into Hall…anything that might help.”

“On it Cap.”

It took them approximately another 10 minutes to get to the location JARVIS had programmed for them. And it felt like 10 years. Ever since receiving the distress call the entire team had been on tenterhooks, Steve especially, remaining stoic and unyielding, although he felt anything but, knowing his girl could be in trouble.

The receptionists face was a picture when the Avengers, led by a focussed, stern looking Captain America stormed into the building and demanded to know what room the Starks were in. Tony heard them shouting on the corridor, Thor kicking over paint cans as he went, and he yelled, banging on the door.

“Stand back…” Steve’s voice was loud before he aimed a huge kick at the door, breaking it easily along with the frame which splintered out of the wall.

“Where’s Katie?” Steve asked, swallowing and looking round, almost as if he expected her to be hiding somewhere.

“They took her.” Tony said, pacing in front of him “I tried to stop them but…”

“Who?” Steve looked at him and Tony sighed, his eyes brimming “Tony, who took her?” Steve’s voice was desperate.

“Hydra.” he bit out, and Steve felt his mouth drop open before he took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face.

Hydra, fucking Hydra. “I don’t understand…“ Thor began, but Tony cut him off. “And you think I do?” he shouted at the God, his entire body trembling as he stopped pacing in front of him “I… we…” He stopped, unable to speak, his breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. Steve was too preoccupied to notice. He was simply staring down at the floor, his posture slumped as he removed his helmet which felt like it was suffocating him, his head kept replaying what Tony had told him.

Hydra had her. They had her.

Banner grabbed Tony by the shoulders and gave him a single shake before he looked at him “Tony, focus on me, ok, keep breathing…”

Tony slumped to the floor and Banner knelt down with him. “What did they say?“ Steve’s voice was thick as he turned to look at him. Tony swallowed and Bruce squeezed his shoulder “It was a trap. The man, Hall. We came to meet him only Ward and…” “Ward?” Clint’s head snapped round at the sound of that name, frowning “Ward is Hydra?”

Tony nodded and Steve let out a lowly growl of frustration.

“They wanted her, said they needed inside intel. I told them to take me, I said, take me instead, but they wouldn’t, Ward said that she’s the only one who knows…knows that someone is alive and what he’s likely to be doing…”

At that Steve’s mind started whirring. Ward- she’d worked that last case with him and Coulson. She was the only Avenger that knew Coulson was alive, bar him, and no one knew she’d told him. Other than Fury that is.

“Who’s alive, who were they talking about?” Natasha frowned.

“I don’t know!” Tony bellowed.

“Maybe they meant Fury?” Banner suggested, looking up.

Steve’s voice was quiet as he looked up. “They mean Coulson.”

“What?” Tony wheeled round to face him “Coulson? He’s…he was killed, they buried him…” Steve shook his head before looking up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath “He’s alive. The last case Katie worked at SHIELD, the Asgardian staff case…” “The what?” Thor frowned, but Steve ignored him.

“It was Coulson’s team she worked with. Ward was part of it.” “And you didn’t think to tell us?” Clint frowned at Steve

“What good would it have done Barton?” Steve snapped, before once more his hands ran over his face. The room fell silent until Nat spoke again.

“Ok, so even if he is alive, that doesn’t explain why they think she knows something.” she pressed “What do they think she knows that’s so important they’d risk taking her?” Steve grit his teeth “I’ve no idea. But I bet Fury does.”

“I’ll get Hill to find him.” Natasha says, pulling out her phone and leaving the room.

“I need to get to back to New York to access everything.” Tony said, suddenly “Start searching our intel, anything…” “What about the media?” Bruce suddenly said. “Should we release her photo?” Tony looked up but before he could speak Steve answered.

"No. If we do that…” He shook his head. “The press’ll start digging and it could flush them further underground.” “Cap” Clint protested gently. “If we can get her picture out there, have more people on the lookout…”

Steve shook his head, a miserable yet stubborn pout pulling at his bottom lip. “No.” “We are in the dark here!” Barton snapped.

Steve turned on him, puffing out his chest. “There’s no way they did this and didn’t leave any sort of trail.”

“A trail? Jesus Cap, these bastards grew within SHIELD for over 70 fucking years and no one noticed!” Clint snapped

“I KNOW!” Steve roared.

Thor, who had been watching the exchange quietly up until that point stepped forward, placing his large hand on the Captain’s shoulder.

“I know it is hard, but you need to remain calm Captain.” he said. Steve looked up at him, giving him a nod, taking a deep breath. Thor turned to Barton “I agree that we should have everyone we can hunting for little Stark, but maybe not straight away. We should regroup, get as much information as we can.” Clint nodded. “I’ll go see if they have CCTV. Maybe we can identify who else was with Ward.” Steve nodded at him as he turned and left the room.

“I’m going to see if I can find anything outside.” Thor said “tracks, a trail…” he released his hold on the Captain leaving him in the room with just Bruce and Tony.

Bruce had both his hands on Tony’s shoulders as the man sank to the floor, burying his face in his hands. “I tried to stop them…” Tony said, his head rocking back and forth “I tried, I really did.”

Steve said nothing. He couldn’t. Instead he stood impossibly still despite the ground feeling ready to crumble beneath him.

*****

Thor’s search drew a blank. So after quizzing the staff who were distraught when they realised what had happened, they took the CCTV footage and headed back to base. The jet was silent, everyone lost in their own thoughts.

Steve was trying to make connections. What was Coulson doing, and why did Hydra, mistakenly, think Katie knew about it? Why had no one told them Ward was Hydra? There was no logic in any of this, other than the fact they were desperate, broken and desperate to take the one person they knew for sure had a link to the assumed dead agent. And as that thought echoed in his head, he realised Barton was right. If he had told the rest of the Avengers about Coulson, then maybe they would have taken anyone else. The fact that he found himself wishing it was one of the others instead of her made him feel slightly ashamed but he couldn’t help it. Suddenly, the jet became hot and he felt the bile rising in his throat. He spun up out of his chair and just made it to the small bathroom at the back of the jet before he threw up.

They arrived back at base just after 2 in the afternoon, and immediately went into overdrive, running facial recognition on the CCTV, Tony instructing Jarvis to sift through the files for any mention of Ward in the vain hope it would give them a clue as to where they might have taken her.

Steve was numb, for once he was failing to direct his team, so Clint took it upon himself to organise everyone, which he was grateful for. Suddenly he felt his phone ring, and he pulled it out of his pocket as fast as he could, a low grown of frustration coming from his throat when he saw it was Sam.

“Sam, I need to keep the line clear” he answered, sharply.

“Woah, Cap…what’s going down?”

“Katie…” he said, stumbling over his words “She’s…she’s been taken, by Hydra.” There was a pause and then the man spoke again, 4 words, before he hung up.

“I’m on my way.”

Steve slid his phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath. He needed to focus. He was no good to Katie like this. He glanced over at his team, locked eyes with Thor who gave him a nod, and he strode across to see if there was anything he could help with.

It was an hour or so before they made any decent progress.

"We got a positive ID on one of the Agents,“ Hill said as she strode into the common room, handing Steve a file. He took it and glanced down, moving the surveillance photos they had extracted from the CCTV footage to one side, reading the information in it as Bruce continued. “Eric Jones. Ex SHIELD enforcer, clearly still active in Hydra. He worked out of one of the Canadian bases SHIELD had in Toronto, it fell when SHIELD did. We’re still running facial for the others, but I’ve told JARVIS to focus on the guy that Tony said was posing as Hall.” Steve nodded.

“We have a home address for Jones.” Hill added “But we’ve no idea if he’s been there recently or…” “We’ll check it out.” Nat said standing up, patting Clint on his chest with the back of her hand. He nodded and stood up just as Steve spoke again.

“How did Ward know?” he looked up and turned to Tony “how did any of them know that you were gonna be there?”

Tony didn’t look away from the window as he replied "I don’t know. The company is real, we did all our research. They’re based in Saint Paul, not far from where we were.”

“So either Ward got wind of it and took it as an opportunity or Hall was in on it from the start.”

“If he was in on it then why kill him?” Thor asked gravely.

“Maybe they were worried he was going to blab.” Clint shrugged.

“When we’ve been to Jones’ we’ll head over there, see if we can dig anything up.” Clint looked at Steve who gave him a nod before JARVIS cut across them.

“Mr Stark. Director Fury and Agent Coulson are here.” “Send them up J.” Tony said, standing up.

Steve took a deep breath and looked at Clint and Natasha “You two wait and see what he has to say before you go. It might help.”

*****

The news Fury and Coulson gave was received as well as could be anticipated. Thor let out a loud growl, turning over his chair in anger whilst the rest of the group started to angrily chatter amongst themselves, all except Steve. He simply looked at Fury, then got up from his chair, the anger radiating from every inch of his body as he strode towards him, jaw clenching.

“Rogers…” he began but shut up immediately as the Captain’s fist connected with the former Director’s nose with a satisfying crack which rang around the now silent room. Fury stumbled backwards, falling to the floor, and he wiped at his face, eyeing the trickle of blood from his shattered nose as waved away Hill away who had stepped forwards to help him.

“Come on…” Thor patted Steve’s chest, “this isn’t helping anyone.”

“You knew?” Steve glared down at the director. “You knew they had the damned thing and didn’t think to tell any of us that you were tracking it?”

“It would have blown Coulson’s cover.” Fury said, standing up “What he is doing has to go under the radar…” “And because of that they took her.” Steve spat “Because Ward knows she knows he…”he pointed to Coulson “is alive, and because we worked with you to take them down, they think she knows something!”

“Let’s just break this down…” Tony sighed, rubbing his face “How did they get it, I thought the Sceptre was on Asgard?” Tony frowned, looking at Thor. “You took it with Loki.”

“No, I took the tesseract.” Thor said. “The sceptre was taken by err…not SHIELD, well a part of SHIELD but…”

“Why did you not tell us about this?” Clint snapped, his usual placid mannerisms now spiked with anger as he turned to Maria. “Why has it taken us raiding fuck knows how many bases, and Nova getting taken for us to find out?”

“Barton, The rubble of the Triskelion took ages to sort out, the other SHIELD strongholds had been obliterated or infiltrated at the same time” she explained “Hundreds if not thousands of things have gone missing. Files, hard drives, laptops, alien artefacts, security badges, flash drives… the list keeps growing. We didn’t know it was missing until recently!” “Recently? How recent?” “Last week.” she looked down and Steve gave a snort as Clint growled.

“You should have destroyed it.” Steve looked at Fury, “Just like everything else you had in that god-damned lab.”

“We couldn’t” Coulson looked at him, and then Steve gave a sarcastic laugh as he understood perfectly what the man was saying.

“Of course not, because you never had it in the first place did you?” “What, I thought…” Tony began but Natasha cut him off.

“Sitwell and STRIKE collected the sceptre.” she said quietly “They were Hyrda, they’ve had it right from the start.“

The room fell silent bar silent and a large clap of thunder started outside, making them jump.

“Sorry.” Thor grumbled.

“Fuck this shit.” Clint suddenly spat out, “Nat come on, we got somewhere to be.” he turned to Steve “If we find anything we’ll let you know.” Steve nodded as the arched clapped him on the shoulder and he left.

Nat turned to him, as if she was going to say something, but she didn’t. She swallowed and gave him a nod, before hurrying after her friend. Steve looked down at the floor, which was once more spinning under his feet. Hydra would be trying to get information out of Katie that she simply didn’t have. And the thought of what they would be doing… one more he felt the bile rise in his stomach and he turned, rushing from the room and made it down the corridor to the rest rooms. He pushed open the door of a cubicle, and threw the contents of his stomach up before slumping to the floor, his knees tucked to his chest, and he let out a loud cry of frustration, anger, his chest constricting around him as the tears began to fall.

*****

Natasha and Clint’s re-con turned up something interesting.

“Nothing at Jones’ place, it looks like it hasn’t been lived in for months, however, when we spoke to the Deputy CEO who’s running the gaff in Hall’s absence, he recognised the guy posing as Hall.” Clint looked at him “Peter Jackson their head of IT. Ran his face through the system and turns out he’s also known as Gary Jepson, ex SHIELD technician.”

Steve ran his hand over his face, scratching the stubble on his chin as he glanced down at the photo. He hadn’t shaved since God knows when.

“So there’s our connection.” he said and Natasha nodded

“Apparently he got the job a few months ago. Timeline tallies with when Hyrdra fell. Apparently he and Mr Hall had a mutual love of American Football, they hit it off, used to go for beers at lunch occasionally”

Tony’s head hurt “I still don’t understand where Ward fits into this?”

“They both worked out of the Fridge.” Natasha said, “At the same time. They must know each other that way.”

“From what Coulson told us, Ward has been rallying round people he knew.” Clint spoke “And, this is all supposition, but if you ask me Jepson probably tried to go legit, melted into the background post SHIELD falling but when he gets a call from his old friend, who tells him they’re not as dead as they could he reaches out. And then when he hears about the potential deal with SIP…”

And then it clicked in Steve’s mind. .

“I don’t think he did hear about it.” he said, speaking for the first time. “You just said he was their head of IT….” “He could have easily sent those emails from Hall’s account…” Tony gave a groan. “It was all a set up from the start.”

*****

It was the week before Christmas. He’d been home from university for 2 weeks and his Dad was already pissing him off. Tonight, both parents were out and Tony was babysitting. He should be out himself, he knew that, Rhodey had invited him to a party, but when Katie had turned those green eyes on him and told him she didn’t want the babysitter she wanted him to stay and ‘hang’ with her (yes, he was especially proud he’d taught his 5 year old sister the word hang) just like he used to before he went away, he’d melted and told his parents to cancel the sitter.

They’d played a board game- Snakes and Ladders. She won the tie breaker (even though he could have beaten her). They’d then watched The Snowman (well, it was nearly Christmas), Tony doing his best Choir boy impression to make her giggle, they’d had hot chocolate and marshmallows with a candy cane stuck out of the top (yes, he knew she wasn’t allowed it after 6pm but like he gave a shit) he’d then done the whole bedtime routine of supervising whilst she brushed her teeth, but she shoved him out of the room when she needed to pee. Then he’d read her a story, tucked her in well over an hour and a half after she was supposed to be in bed, and was now relaxing with a stolen glass of his dad’s scotch (cheers Dad) in front of Die Hard. He was about halfway through the film when he heard a small sniff in the hall and she padded into the living room clutching her Winnie the Pooh teddy.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Tony looked at his sister “I already let you stay up way later than Mom said you could!”

“Bad dream” she said, sobbing. He opened his arms and she clambered onto his lap. “There’s a monster under my bed.”

“Nah, I killed it last week, remember?”

“It’s a new one.” she said, looking at him.

“That so…right…” he said, standing up abruptly “This calls for the Monster Killer…”

The Monster Killer, AKA the Vacuum.

Grabbing it, he marched up the stairs and plugged it in. Once it was on he dived under the bed “Get here you son of a…arrrgh…” he made a big deal of thumping the floor and yelling. Eventually he stilled and emerged, turning it off.

“Got it!” he said,

Katie smiled and her hands went up in the air in celebration “My hero Tones!” before she wrapped her small arms around his neck and he hugged her back.

“I’ll always protect you, Kiddo, what are big brothers for?” "Tony?” His entire body jumped as he looked up and realised it was Pepper. He shifted slightly and let out a small breath. ”Yeah?”

"It’s late,“ she told him simply, but no unkindly. "Come back to bed.”

He shook his head and looked back down at the laptop on his knee.

“You have to get some sleep.” she sighed, crossing the room before she dropped onto the dark leather sofa besides him “I know it’s hard right now, but – “ "Hard?” he interrupted with a scoff, “Hard? Great description.”

Pepper ignored his jibe and sighed “You haven’t slept in days. We can’t take a step back to where we were after New York. You need to sleep.“

“I need to keep up with SIP.” he said, shaking his head. “She’s got so many potential authors and projects going…I mean, I can’t let her company crash…what do I tell them all anyway? What do I tell her work force?” “I had an email sent out from HR yesterday.” Pepper said

“Saying what?” Tony rounded on her.

“That she was on extended leave for the foreseeable.” Pepper said “In the meantime, they’re all reporting into Jenny Jones.” “Who the fuck is Jenny Jones?” Tony looked at her. Pepper took a deep breath.

“She’s the General Manager.” Pepper said “Katie hired her last week.”

He looked at Pepper before the tears sprung into his eyes “the foreseeable…” “I’m sorry.” Pepper says, “I didn’t know what to say.”

"The foreseeable, until they realise she doesn’t know anything…and they kill her too.” “You don’t know that,” Pepper said, and her voice for the first time trembled.

Tony looked at her for a moment, before he broke.

*****

The days bled into weeks. And nothing. They had identified every goddamned Hydra agent on that CCTV footage now, but they had still found nothing. When Sam had arrived they’d gone back and re-raided every fucking Hydra base they could think of. Nothing. They were stabbing in the dark, and with every day that passed they knew the chances of them finding Katie were getting thinner and thinner.

Steve had a headache. A bad one. One that felt like it was going to split his head in two. He pressed the heel of his palm to the space between his eyes in a desperate attempt to quell the pain.

“Shit, steady on Cap…”

Steve looked up and stopped before he walked straight into Tony.

“You okay?” Tony asked.

“No.” Steve bit back, before he sighed “Sorry, headache…” He looked at his fiancé’s brother, the worry evident in Tony’s face as well. In fact, it seemed the pair of them now sported that expression constantly, and had done since Katie had gone missing just over 3 weeks ago.

“I thought you were going to get some sleep” Tony said as his eyes scanned down Steve’s body, taking in the fact he was in the same jeans and T-shirt he had been at their meeting last night. Another useless meeting.

He lets out a long breath. “Couldn’t.”

“Me neither.” Tony said, shrugging “Kinda hard… “

“I know.” Steve nodded, looking at Tony.

"I just…I just keep thinking,” Tony said, “I keep thinking about… how I could’ve avoided this. How I should have spotted it was a trap, how I couldn’t stop them taking her…” “This isn’t your fault Tony.” Steve shook his head, thankful that he could now say this honestly. At first he had been angry, angry that the man hadn’t been quicker or able to protect his sister, but that anger had fast dissipated. Without the Iron Man suit, Tony wasn’t a trained fighter. He was physically fit, yes, but not everyone had super serum coursing through their veins. The man was as broken as he was at her being gone, his sister, daughter even, gone, without a trace.

"I miss her,” Tony said, his soft words still cut harshly into the surrounding quiet. “I just… miss her.”

Steve dropped his gaze. He missed her, God did he miss her. They’d only been engaged, for what? Coming up 3 months when she was taken and were still in that excited phase of it. They hadn’t gotten down to any planning of any sorts, but that hadn’t stopped their late night, post love making discussions about it. Katie gently teasing him and stating all the things she was going to get, like doves, and fire eaters…utter bullshit of course, because she had no desire for any of that showy crap.

He missed her so much it hurt. Her laugh, her smile, the way she looked at him, her bantering with everyone in the common room, the way he would walk into a room where she was speaking with Natasha and the pair of them looked at him and broke into giggles making him paranoid, the way she kissed him, the way she felt, her hands running through his hair.

Tony cleared his throat harshly and Steve looked at him. “Me too Tony, me too.”