#forest clearance
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rightnewshindi · 3 months ago
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नादौन में राजीव गांधी डे-बोर्डिंग स्कूल खोलने के लिए मिली फॉरेस्ट क्लीयरेंस, जानें कितनी भूमि होगी हस्तांतरित
Hamirpur News: ग्रामीण क्षेत्रों के बच्चों को बेहतरीन शिक्षण सुविधाएं उपलब्ध करवाने के लिए हिमाचल प्रदेश सरकार द्वारा आरंभ की गई राजीव गांधी डे-बोर्डिंग स्कूल योजना के अंतर्गत नादौन विधानसभा क्षेत्र में भी डे-बोर्डिंग स्कूल खोलने का मार्ग प्रशस्त हो गया है। मुख्यमंत्री सुखविंदर सिंह सुक्खू के गृह विधानसभा क्षेत्र नादौन की अमलैहड़ पंचायत में राजीव गांधी डे-बोर्डिंग स्कूल की स्थापना के लिए केंद्रीय…
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townpostin · 3 months ago
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Dhalbhumgarh Airport Clearance on Advisory Panel's Agenda in Aug 27 Meeting
Key Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (Forest Conservation Division) meeting to discuss forest land diversion for crucial infrastructure project Environmental committee to weigh Dhalbhumgarh Airport’s forest clearance, potentially advancing regional development aspirations. JAMSHEDPUR – A pivotal Forest Advisory Committee meeting, scheduled for August 27, is set to deliberate on…
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mortemcatabasis · 1 year ago
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Custom designs for @krembearry
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petermorwood · 9 months ago
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Correct me if I'm wrong, but IIRC some trees (my distant mental echo says in Australia) need occasional fires to prompt not just regrowth but actual growth.
I also have an equally vague memory of reading that Smokey The Bear has it backwards, that occasional fires are a natural occurrence, and the Smokey "total prohibition" approach merely encourages excessive underbrush.
The result is that fires, when they inevitably happen, are far bigger and more prolonged because of more fuel, and in consequence more destructive than the faster, less intense "mild fires" mentioned in the article.
All of this seems to make sense, but I'm no forester so as I say, correct me if I've misremembered either or both of these things.
Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds
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Article | Paywall free
When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”
Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.
“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.
Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.
Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.
Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.
Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.
It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”
... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”
-via Science, December 1, 2023
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sbhomethane · 4 months ago
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Forest Clearance Consultant - Environmental Solutions
In the ever-changing world, the prosperity of the natural resources is the most significant concern. In the process of industrial development and urbanization, the appropriate preservation of forests is more significant than ever before. Here is where the practitioners of forest clearance consultancy get into the thick of things. In this complete guide, we will investigate the roles and duties of forest clearance consultant, their importance, and how they become the cogwheel of sustainable development.
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WHAT IS A FOREST CLEARANCE CONSULTANT?
Forest clearance consultant are specialists who are responsible for making things easy and systematic when it comes to obtaining permission for various activities in the forest. such activities may include but are not limited to, land development, infrastructure projects, mining, and agriculture. Their main job is to make sure that such activities are performed according to environmental laws and regulations and have minimal adverse effects on forest ecosystems.
UNDERSTANDING THE ROLE OF FOREST CLEARANCE CONSULTANT
Environmental Assessment
Regulatory Compliance
Stakeholder Engagement
The Role Of Forest Clearance Consultant
Forest clearance consultant come into focus as the key element enhancing the transparent procedure of obtaining permits for interaction with forests. The environmental personnel are well-skilled in regulatory environmental issues, biodiversity conservation, and engagement of stakeholders. The major function of this management unit is to find a balance between suitable economic activity and environmentally friendly land use without compromising the integrity of the forest ecosystems.
HOW FOREST CLEARANCE CONSULTANT CAN HELP YOU
Now that we have discussed the relevance of forest clearance consultant, let's have a look at the various ways they can assist you in your projects.
Permitting and Approvals
Environmental Planning and Design
Monitoring and Compliance
RECOGNIZING THE VALUE OF FOREST CLEARANCE CONSULTANT
Forest clearance consultant play an irreplaceable role. These kinds of professionals go beyond mere regulatory compliance, they serve as custodians of our environmental heritage, entrusting projects with sustainable completion. With the use of their knowledge, builders, and owners of lands can get through the complexities of the forest clearance with confidence, aiming for a harmonious balance between progress and conservation. They provide professionals who are responsible for the smooth running of projects, taking into account environmental integrity and the protection of essential natural resources. Going on with the difficult task of land development, forest clearance consultants would be quite crucial to us in our effort to attain sustainable outcomes for both humanity and nature.
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weepingwidar · 6 months ago
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Joanna Whittle (British, 1974) - Clearance (Forest Lights) (2022)
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ginkgo-phyta · 10 months ago
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Tantalizing / Spencer Reid
PART TWO: Link
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
Words: ~8k
Tags/Warnings: SMUT!!! like pure smut, AFAB fem reader, no usage of "y/n", light footplay, light nipple play, humping, unprotected penetration, slight dom/sub themes (nothing intense, maybe more like switch?), secret relationship, extensive foreplay teehee ;]
Summary: You haven't had good, quality, playful time with Spencer in quite a while- the team's schedule having been jam packed with cases. Its been making you antsy, expounded by how good your boyfriend has been dressing lately. You decide late one night that enough is enough, and you had to dig your claws into him. Even if people end up finding out about you two.
Author's Note: inspired by spencer's s7 outfits...they're so good. they make me wanna bark. this is my very first time writing smut! ahhh!! also i didn't know wtf to title this.
“Hi Spencer…” Your alluring voice purred into Spencer’s ears as he held the hotel door open for you, the seductive timbre curling up the back of his neck, brushing against his warming cheeks and flicking the ends of the hair that tickled the shell of his ear.
“C-come in, quickly”. He ushered you in, closing the door swiftly behind you. The stammer caused you to grin mischievously and you watched Spencer pause in the middle of the room- just staring at you hesitantly, taking in your appearance as he played with the hem of his sweater vest. You donned a half-sleeved retro style black dress with a white collar and small buttons going down the front- his favorite on you. The belt hugged your waist beautifully and the skirt that shaped out your hips flared out a bit at the end, falling right at the knee. With it you wore an assortment of dainty jewelry, very sheer black tights and short forest green heels. He had seen you just a handful of times throughout the day, and each time he had to find some excuse to leave your vicinity in order to hold onto even a sliver of concentration on the case.
“I’ve missed you all day, baby.” you start to step closer to him, twirling the ends of your perfectly curled ponytailed hair between your fingers. The soft thuds of your kitten heels sent tingles down Spencer’s spine. “Did ya miss me?” you questioned him with a little pout. Now mere inches away from him you traced your manicured fingers down the lapels of his blazer. Reflexively, his hands shot up to rest ever-so-lightly on the curve of your hips.
He gulped, watching you playfully bat your mascaraed eyelashes up at him, “Of course, I did.” Spencer cleared his throat, trying to gain some sort of composure, “I wished you could have come out into the field with me, but you need to get better first.” His right hand shyly moved up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering to fiddle with the small golden hoop on your lobe. 
A dramatic sigh huffed out of your plump, glossy lips while fixing the knot of his tie, “I knoooow,” tone almost childish in reluctance, “I just love seeing you work.” You threw your arms over his shoulders, flashing him the beautiful smile he loved oh-so-much to see, “Which is why I’m here. Wanna see what you’re up to.” The bite of your lip, the glint in your eye, and the glimpse to his own lips made it clear to Spencer that you held a different motive. “Show me what you're working on?” you turn to make your way to the desk where dozens of papers and multiple files were scattered around. The purposefully enticing sway of your hips left Spencer captivated.
You had suffered a pretty bad concussion a couple weeks ago at the hands of an unsub weidling a copper pipe. The proceeding vertigo refused to relent its choking grip on your inner ear resulting in being “banned” from the field until a doctor’s clearance- or two, if Spencer could have his way. Usually this wouldn’t be all that big of a deal for you, but the case the BAU team was currently working on had Spencer away from you for most of the day, profiling the suspected murderer’s house in an attempt to find details that could lead to the missing victim. You were left twiddling your thumbs at the precinct. Well, not really, but it sure did feel like it at times.
“Ooo, the coded messages. Have my analyses helped you at all?” your voice pulled Spencer out of his debauched thoughts. His gaze landed on your face, all traces of seductive tactics were gone, replaced by eager and adorable curiosity. The unsub had several coded messages in journals scattered around his apartments that were proving to be incredibly difficult to crack. Spencer let out a breathy chuckle as he excitedly made his way over to sit at the desk. 
“Yes, they actually did. I was able to-” and off he went down the rabbit hole of a tangent. Although normally you would have intently listened to what he had to say, this time watching him passionately ramble reignited the little flame in your bosom. You leaned against the desk, letting your eyes wander over Spencer’s expressive hands and fingers as he gestured to different pieces of paper. You interrupted his spiel by sliding into the space between his body and the desk, using the toe of your shoe on the seat to roll the creaky swivel chair back.
“The working day is over, Spencie, don’t you think it's time to focus on better things?” Spencer's head snapped down to where your foot rested on the cushion of the flimsy motel office chair, right between his legs and dangerously close to his clothed cock. He followed the line of your nylon clad leg, over the skirt of your work dress, across the prominence of your chest, up the slope of your neck, and finally to your twinkling eyes. “I don’t deserve any attention, baby?” you tilted your head ever so slightly, your hand coming up to delicately play with the single-pearl necklace resting in the Plender’s gap of your collar bones. A delicious, forlorn sigh passed your lips as your fingers glided over your shoulder, head moving with it to look down and pick at the papers laying under your tush, “You didn’t really miss me, did you? All you ever think about is the bad guys.” And there was that pout again. God, you really knew how to make Spencer a mess.
“That’s not true!” he exclaimed immediately, voice cracking slightly at the end. Your eyes snapped to his offended face. You giggled as his Adam’s apple bobbed- you loved teasing him, it boosted your confidence and only egged you further every time. His reactions would always be your drug of choice. “I’m-I’m sorry.” was all else he could spit out.
“What for, honey?” you leaned back on your hands, head tilting to the other side this time.
“For not giving you my attention. I didn’t mean to…neglect you. I really did miss you. I always do.” Spencer’s hands came up to lightly cup your calf, still very aware of its proximity to certain progressively-aching parts of his body.
“Good.” your voice was matter of fact as you straightened up a bit. Spencer watched you pull at your hair-tie and release your ponytail with a few firm shakes, his lips parted with a sharp draw of breath. The foot between his legs briefly moved as you kicked off your heels before it settled back into its original position, this time inching further under his crotch.
He let out a quiet surprised “Ah-” at the contact, his grip on your leg lowered as he squirmed in his seat.
“You like my outfit today? I picked it out specifically for you.” your words turned breathy as you leaned closer to the quiet genius, “You’ve been dressing sooo nice lately, honey, I wanted to look just as pretty as you.” You picked up one of his hands that had slid down to grasp your ankle, pushing his palm flat onto your led as you dragged it up the limb. Under your dress it went, enticing Spencer closer to you in response until his chest hit your shin. His fingers curled onto your thigh, analyzing the smoothness of your tights before you stopped. Instead, you took his fingers and pressed them into the lacey top of your sheer black thigh-high stockings. Another little move, press, and pause, allowing Spencer’s fingers to analyze. They were latched to a garter belt. The realization drew a soft groan from the back of his throat as his forehead dropped onto your knee. He loved when you would wear these. Spencer placed a few barely-there kisses where he could, using his hand to explore your thigh, taking in the difference between your warm skin and the cool nylon. You relished in the way he dug his fingernails into your supple flesh.
“So beautiful…” his whispers into your silked skin tugged a devilish grin up your cheeks. You felt his eyebrows furrow and you could tell his lips were pursed. You craved for his big hands and chapped yet moistened lips to press all over your body, but the teasing was just too fun to quit so soon. Instead, you wove your fingers through his hair, pushing back and coaxing him to look up at you. His cheeks were flushed clove-pink, eyelids drooping slightly as he gazed longingly at your mouth. Spencer’s body tried to jump closer to you, his hands respectively gripped your upper thigh and ankle in a failed attempt to hoist himself up to your hypnotizing smile. You swore you heard him let out a faint moan as his crotch grazed against your lower extremity. This sparked a match in your head.
Much to Spencer’s displeasure you moved away from him, leaning back on hands placed firmly on the desk. He tried to move forward to follow you, but your clothed foot left his crotch to land on his chest, effectively stopping his movements. Spencer let out a huff as it began dragging down his torso, pushing him back into his chair, before its path ended. Your foot hovered over the obvious bulge in his black trousers. “I love wearing these tights,” you started nonchalantly, “They make me feel so pretty and put-together; so hot,” you added a tantalizing emphasis, as if the word was naughty. Your lightly padded toes circled around where Spencer wanted them the most. Instead they avoided it a little longer, going to trace the design of his belt buckle. He screwed his eyes closed- whether to contain himself or simply feel your movements was uncertain. He let out an impatient whine. “Don’t you think so, sweetheart?” The sole of your foot finally flattened on Spencer’s covered cock.
“Yes, yes, yes” he earnestly groaned out, the hand on your ankle desperately pushing your foot further onto his bulge. That’s what you loved most about fooling around with your beloved- always so eager. You bit back the moan of your own that threatened to spill as Spencer threw his head back. You watched the pads of his fingers dig into your ankle, the other hand slid down the back of your calf to meet its twin as his hips lifted slightly off the chair to grind into your foot. His length hardening and extending could be felt against your sole, slightly ticklish. The scene before you was addictive, the sounds escaping his lips so dirty and provocative. He tugged your leg to press you harder to him, causing you to almost slip off the desk. 
“Tuttutut,” you chided, “slow down, big boy. I never said you could do all that, did I?” As soon as your light scolding processed in his mind, all of his actions stopped. Spencer quickly shook his head while trying to catch his breath. “Answer me.” you tried again. His eyelids blinked open, gaze meek.
“No, no you didn’t.” He removed his hands from your leg, running them through his hair before plopping them onto the arms of the chair as he panted, “I’m sorry, baby, you just feel so good,” he paused to look at you, swallowing hard. “God, I’ve missed you.” His words were smile-inducing. You dragged your foot off of him, deliberately using extra pressure to earn a deep and husky groan. Spencer’s eyes briefly rolled back into his head before they closed again. You could see tiny glistening beads of sweat forming at the edges on his hairline. His eyebrows furrowed and his Adam’s apple shifted a couple times, miniscule twitches plucked the corners of his mouth.
“What are you thinking about now?” you were clearly amused, feet slightly kicking out like a giddy schoolgirl. Spencer didn’t miss a beat in responding.
“You. I’m thinking about you. I’m thinking about h-how good you make me feel and how much I want you to touch me more,” another gulp. “How much I want to touch you.” His hands gripped the plastic chair arms, causing them to squeak. You giggled at this. To Spencer, you sounded wicked. 
“You want to fuck me, don’t you baby.” Your words immediately caused him to squirm, whines leaving his throat. He didn’t dare open his eyes yet. It wasn’t a question, you knew for a fact that’s exactly what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say it like that. Not yet, at least. The team had back-to-back cases for the last month and a half, and the two of you haven’t had a chance to actually have sex in the same length of time. You snuck cuddle sessions in each other’s hotel rooms a couple times, but kept them to a minimum as to not arouse suspicion from your teammates. You couldn’t take it anymore, especially with how good he looked today- how good he has looked the last few weeks, really. 
It wasn’t always that you showed your dominant side in bed, but it was all you could think about doing lately.
“Say it. Tell me you want to fuck me, Spencie.” 
Another squirm. Eyes squeezed shut. 
“Be a good boy, baby. Look at me.” your voice was sterner this time, though the playful edge hadn’t fully dissipated. It took a couple seconds but Spencer’s eyelashes finally fluttered open, “There we go,” you cooed. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, still worming a bit in his seat with arms glued to their spots. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.” you leaned your body forward, hoping to come off a bit more domineering. 
Spencer took in a deep breath, eyes flitting around the room in an attempt to avoid your gaze. You didn’t want to ask again, residing to clearing your throat to get your message across. He understood what that meant- you were getting impatient and if you didn’t get what you wanted you would simply stop. He didn’t want that. It’s not like the statement was incorrect, it just wasn’t something that was ever in Dr. Spencer Reid’s ordinary vernacular and he wasn’t yet in the headspace for it to come out without a second thought. He didn’t want to sound stupid. But, oh, he wanted you. Thus, he swallowed his doubts and began,
“Yes,” he nodded his head vigorously, eyes closing just for a millisecond, “I…” His gaze finally locked with yours, “I want to fuck you.”
Damn, the words sounded so incredibly, completely filthy dripping from Spencer’s innocent lips and you wanted to lick up every drop. Your pussy reactively clenched around nothing, and you wanted to surge forwards and push your mouth onto his in a hot kiss- half what Spencer himself expected (and wanted) you to do- but you controlled yourself. Instead, you remained calm, sliding off your desk and toeing your kitten heels back on your feet all while maintaining eye-contact with Spencer. You prowled towards him. His saliva hitched in his throat, heart skipped a beat, breathing quickened. He remained still while you leaned down towards him. Your minty breath fanned over his face, and Spencer wished you would just kiss him already. Of course, you knew that was what he wanted and so you wouldn’t let him have it just now. He watched your face as you brought your hand to his jaw. Your thumb dragged across his bottom lip and down, moving to pull the tie out of his sweater vest. You used it to pull Spencer closer to you, his chin tilted up, reaching out to connect your lips. Just as they were about to touch…you stopped. “Come here,” was all you whispered. And in a flash, you were standing straight up, using the tie to move him up with you. Backwards you walked, returning to your original position on the small desk. As you scooted up a bit, disregarding the important papers you were most definitely damaging, you hiked up your dress to allow your legs to fall open. Spencer moved to stand in between them, but much to his dismay you were too far on the desk for him to be able to feel the warmth radiate from your core. Obviously, that was done on purpose. 
Spencer knew he shouldn’t touch you yet, so he rested his hands on the desk close to your hips, only using the tips of his thumbs to brush back and forth between the lace of your stockings and the skin of your thighs. Good boy, you thought, but kept it to yourself. You slowly, yet deftly unbuttoned the cuffs and folded up the sleeves of his shirt, licking your lips at the sight of his hairy and veiny bare arms. You brought them each up to place a light kiss on the inside of his wrists, shifting up the watch on his left, before returning them to their original position. Spencer watched with bated breath and a parted mouth as you then began to seductively undo the top few buttons of your dress, pushing the fabric to the sides to allow Spencer to gaze down at the cleavage hardly contained by your lacy, deep green bra. (It didn’t escape him that they matched your heels). This enticed a moan from the disheveled man. He threw his head back, looking up at the bright ceiling lights in an attempt to grab his bearings, “You’re going to kill me.” he whispered. 
You held his face in both your hands, pulling it down to look at you again, “Good.” you whispered back in delight. Fingers traveled to the back of his neck, playing with and tugging at the ends of his hair for a minute before moving to push the dark gray woolen blazer off his shoulders where they then replaced the material with massages. Spencer's eyes shut at the pressures of your ministrations, forehead dropping to rest against your own as a feeling of peace and warmth flooded his veins. He almost forgot how horny he was- almost. He whined at the lost palpations as your hands changed course to loosen his tie. You left it on, opting to unbutton the top of his button-up. Your fingernails scratched at the exposed skin at the base of his neck and top of his hair-sprinkled chest before they danced up to trace his Adam’s apple. 
“I want you.” Spencer moaned.
“I know, baby.” you held his face between your hands again, firmly so he couldn’t move, “I want you, too,” Your face inched closer to his at a worm’s pace, and all Spencer could do was watch in impatient anticipation. “You’re just so fun to play with.” You nudged your nose against his, leaving a ghost of a kiss on his lips. 
“More, please.” He groaned, head straining against your grasp, his eyelids falling shut. 
You giggled sweetly, “Just a bit more, since you asked so nicely,” and you began to press more light kisses where you wanted to- on his top lip, the corners of his mouth, the little dip of his chin, his cupid’s bow, and finally the tip of his nose- your own lightly knocking against his with each proximal peck. Spencer sighed as you leaned away from him. 
“Please,” he breathed out. Spencer leaned into your right palm, eyelids opening to reveal a contented, dazed look.
“You said you wanted me to touch you, didn’t you, baby?” your hands started to move, down the front of his chest to creep under the hem of his dark blue sweater vest.
“Mhm…” he nodded excitedly, a content sigh leaving his nose. You pulled the light-blue button-up out of his trouser, the feeling of your cool hands splaying against the warm, bare skin of his lower abdomen had Spencer reeling. You dug the tips of your fingers down a path along his hidden abs and happy trail before curling them around to his lower back where you scratched long horizontal lines. You loved touching him, just feeling his skin. But, Spencer wasn’t the only one losing a little bit of patience. 
The sound of his belt buckle clinking undone caused his stomach to somersault. You roughly undid the button and zipper of his trousers before pushing them down just enough to grant you access to what you wanted. Spencer’s forehead thumped lightly against yours, finding its favorite spot again- well, second-favorite if we’re being honest. His breath quickened. You weren’t done teasing yet, though. Peering down, the outline of his hard cock straining against his boxer-briefs, a wet spot accumulating in the gray cotton, sent a jolt to your gut.
“Look at you,” your head tilted up, “so hard for me,” you whispered against his lips. Fingers snapped the waistband of his underwear against his stomach. “What a good boy.” Spencer’s brows furrowed against yours, prompting you to plant a kiss between them, leaving your lips there for a second while you dragged a single deep-brown-polished nail up the length of his covered hard-on.
He whined out your name, his voice hiccupping, “Please, please. Touch me.” The sound of paper crushing told you his hands still sitting by your sides were crumpling the files on the table. Spencer tried so hard not to move his hips, fearing you would stop everything. He resided to fist his hands and nudge his head against yours instead.
“Where?” Could you be any more cruel? Spencer groaned in frustration. Yes, you definitely could. He shouldn’t fight it.
“Please! My-my c-cock.” He swallowed hard to stop his stuttering. “Please touch my cock!” More sounds of paper rustling.
You giggled at his desperation, “Oh, honey, you’re so filthy.” Though, if you were being honest, you were just about getting there, too. Your swollen clit was pulsing in excitement, thin underwear increasingly dampening in your slick. If Spencer wasn’t standing between your legs, you’d be pressing your thighs together in an attempt to get yourself off. “If that’s what my baby wants...”
Finally, your right hand descended into his boxer-briefs, quickly using his ample precum to coat your palm before wrapping your fingers around his length. You gave him a good squeeze, prompted by the deep moan he let out, and started to jack him off. 
“Oh, my god.” Spencer groaned, head dropping down to your shoulders. His hands flew up to tightly grip the fat of your hips. His hair tickled your ears, hot breath summoned goosebumps across your chest. 
You hummed in response, hooking your heels around the back of his calves as you continued pumping. Your other hand moved to cup and press into his balls through his underwear. 
“A-ah!” he tensed up a bit. Spencer’s balls were always a very sensitive spot, almost as if he was biologically wired to be afraid of any touch there. It was your favorite thing to do though- especially wrapping your lips around them.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” you whispered in his ear, nipping lightly at the lobe, “I’ve gotchu. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Your coos against his cheek immediately soothed the tension in his back and you could feel it radiate off of him in waves. 
“Yesss,” He mumbled through a groan, pushing his face into the side of your neck and moving his grip up to your waist, “So good.” He let his hips move now, and so did you. He lightly thrusted up into your fist as much as he could with what little leverage his narrow stance afforded him. 
You swiped a thumb over the head of his cock and lightly squeezed his engorged balls, causing him to gasp as his hips involuntarily bucked up. You felt his blazen, wet mouth drop open against your skin. Your hand turned and pushed, twisted and pulled, squeezed and tugged, Spencer’s moans growing louder and louder in your ear. Your eyes remained shut, relishing in the sounds he was making and the feeling of his burning skin against yours. Now, it was your turn to want more.
Suddenly, your hands left his dick. Before he could complain, you pushed his briefs down to fully expose him to the crisp air and pulled yourself closer to him in one motion, ignoring the crinkling of paper beneath you. He could feel the heat of your clothed core press up against his impossibly hard dick, causing the both of you to moan in unison. You rested your hands back on the desk and leaned away. 
“Touch me, baby.” you breathed out. 
Fuck, yes. Spencer thought as his hands surged forward, quickly undoing the last few buttons of your dress before roughly pushing the barrier open, fully exposing your cleavage. With a groan, his fingers pulled down the cups of your intricately designed bra to expose your perky nipples and his mouth immediately descended on them. Your head rolled back. The gasps and moans he was finally able to pluck from your throat were like music to Spencer’s ears. He sucked, nibbled, licked one areola while he pinched, twirled, and rubbed the other. His thumb rolled over the peak of your left nipple, pressing and dragging into the miniscule dip just how you liked it, causing the pit of your stomach to drop and your body to squirm. “Shit!” you hissed out, head snapping up to get a look at him. Spencer looked up at you in response, his eyes glinting with ferocity. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers dug into your side, holding your body up to him. One of your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands to make him moan around your nipple, the other gripped at the knitted fabric on his back. He continued moving from breast to breast, catching his breath only for half-a-second while he pawed at them before latching onto the next. Your squirming movements increased, moans becoming more high-pitched as your hands pulled at his hair in an effort to get his head off of you. It signaled to Spencer: you were becoming overstimulated. His mouth pulled off of you with a pop! and you gasped in response. 
He let you catch your breath for a moment, watching the rapid rise and fall of your tits while you watched his face through smiling eyes. The corners of his mouth were slightly wet, lips swollen from all the sucking, hair incredibly disheveled from your man-handling. You couldn't help but bite your lip and hum. So pretty. Just as you were about to speak, Spencer leaned down again and began kissing all over your chest and neck. His big, warm hands moved from your ribs to splay over your back, still holding you up to hover over the desk- one in the middle, the other between your scapulae. Your own moved to wrap around his shoulders. He pressed sloppy, damp kisses along the tops of your breast and over your collar bones before moving to the column of your throat. His lips dragged to each side, stopping to nip and suck here and there. Even in his fevered motions, he remained careful not to leave visible hickies, no matter how badly he wanted to fixate on a single place. Once he was thoroughly satisfied in covering your entire neck with kisses, he focused on the sweet spot on the right side, exactly where your pulsepoint was. “Oh Spencer,” the honeyed words caused him to groan, egging him on even more. Your fingers dug into the back of Spencer's own neck, legs wrapped around his ass, bringing him further into you. One particular suck and bite had you twitch your hips up, successfully rubbing your pussy against Spencer’s poor, neglected cock. This spurred him on. He was doing so well, using all his willpower to focus on pleasing you. To be a good boy for you and not rut his throbbing, leaking dick against your hot, wet cunt, but you finally did it yourself- you started it- which meant Spencer could now lose himself in his desires. The pressure had him nuzzling his face into your neck once again, lips open to breathe heavily against your warm skin.
One of his hands left the middle of your back to travel down your body, moving to grip your thigh and pull you to wrap your legs tightly around his waist while his legs spread further apart. The heightened angle and gained leverage allowed Spencer's cock to drag up and down the entirety of your cunt with greater pressure, drawing out even more noises from the both of you. 
“Oh my fucking God, Spence. Feels so good..” your choked out words caused him to dig his nails into your skin. You’d definitely be greeted with little crescent shapes tomorrow morning. You leaned your head against his, hands flying to grab onto wherever you could- tangling in his hair, bunching up in the shirt of his broad shoulders, scratching against his neck. 
The pleasure seeped into every crevice of Spencer’s brain, consuming any thoughts that didn’t revolve around you. He held onto you as if letting you go meant sending the world into ragnarok. “God, I..” he mumbled, shifting his grasp on your thigh to firmly cup your head in his palm. He couldn’t stop rutting into you, hunched over your body like a crazed animal, even though it was impeding his ability to speak. He licked his lips, readying to speak.
“I wanna fuck you so badly, baby.” 
The intensity of his words, his piercing gaze, and the particularly long and deep drag of his bare cock against your dressed clit practically had you cumming. Your head rolled to hang back in the air, almost hitting the desk if it weren’t for Spencer's other hand on your neck holding it up, thumb draped lightly over your jugular. Your eyes tightly screwed, bottom lip pulled in by your teeth in a sorry attempt to heed the salacious noises leaving your mouth. The light feeling of your pussy fluttering almost had Spencer pulling your barely-there panties to the side and shoving his cock into you. 
The man should be lauded and awarded for his self-control, but the need to please you triumphed over every biological impulse or desire Spencer would ever feel. He knew what you wanted. He knew your favorite part about teasing him- playing with him, stringing him up- was the burning, fervent, feral kiss it resulted in. Even though it used all his willpower he stopped his thrusting, pulling a drawn-out whine from the back of your throat. “Nooo,” you huffed and pouted. 
With force, Spencer yanked your head up to bring your eyes back to his level. He stared into your wide, surprised eyes for a moment, breathing fast and hard before he pulled you forward. Your lips met in an impassioned embrace, hot and heavy. Greedy mouths wide as if to gorge on each other’s impurities. Both of Spencer’s hands grasped your head, fingers digging into the back of your scalp, almost pulling at strands of your hair. Yours rounded his torso, pulling him as close to you as possible. The feverish kiss was messy, loud, and erotic. Tongues wrestled, teeth clashed, noses collided. The taste of Spencer’s saliva was addictive, your mouth pushed into his to gain as much of it as it could. You swallowed his moans, he happily lapped up yours. The motions of your hips started up again, adding to the delectability. 
Spencer tried to pull away from you, but you wouldn’t have any of it. You locked your ankles around his waist and bit his bottom lip in an effort to keep his swollen mouth of yours. He rested his forehead against yours again, thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. The feeling of your panties rubbing against your clit was almost becoming too much. 
“Please,” he breathed, “I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you.” 
“We c-can’t,” it was your turn to stutter, too overcome with desire to be cocky anymore, “they’ll hear us, we’ll…we’ll get in trouble.” Moans cut into your words. What utter bullshit. The sounds of your debauchery filled every corner of Spencer’s modest hotel room and both of you knew in the back of your fucked-out brains that it was all already dancing down the hallway for everyone to hear. The continuous crumpling of papers; occasional thwap of files hitting the carpeted floor; the consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of the wooden desk beating against the wall; the sharp sound of your kitten heels wrestling with one another around Spencer’s waist; and, of course, the melodiously lewd octaves crawling up from each of your vocal chords.
He hated that answer. You swear you heard Spencer growl as he adjusted to roughly throw each of your legs over his shoulders, always keeping one hand behind your head, before bending over you once again. Your hands flew down to hopelessly grasp at the papers under you. He loved bringing out that surprised look on your face.
“A-ah, Spencer!” The new angle was intoxicating. Every single sensation was overwhelming your senses. The pinches of your dress still bunched up around your upper thighs and creasing in your elbows. The fabric of his vest was rubbing against your hardened and sensitive nipples. Spencer's right hand rested on the base of your throat while the other twisted in your hair. The back of your thighs and calves stretched at the unwarranted position. The smell of musk and sweat proliferated the air around you two. The friction of his stubbled balls chafed your reddening ass. Your bra cups and wire dug into your ribs, the thick belt of your dress pressing your stomach. And of course, the heavenly feeling of his burning, heavy cock rutting against your core. “I think I’m gonna-” you couldn’t finish your exclamation, voice cut off by a sharp gasp of pleasure. No, you weren’t, not yet. You wanted more, too.
Spencer was emboldened by the mixture of oxytocin and endorphins rushing through his veins and the entirety of you engulfing his senses. He gripped your hair tighter as his confidence grew and pushed his forehead harder against yours to look deep into your watering eyes, “I need to feel your tight pussy, baby.” His voice was quiet, yet stern and full- no hint of hesitation or embarrassment. No stuttering or stammering. Your head reeled. 
“Fuck me, please!” was all you could say before reaching down and hurriedly grabbing your panties, clumsily pulling them to the side- no toying, no dirty talk, no teasing. Spencer took the cue, using the hand on your throat to instead guide his dick into your entrance. 
Finally, he thought while he pushed into you as he straightened up a bit, letting out a guttural groan. The beautiful tone of your sigh tickled his ears. Your pussy was so wet, and in turn so was his cock. You sucked in the entirety of his length with little problem. The thick, pudgy walls of your cunt enveloped Spencer’s dick deliciously, warmth causing his eyes to roll back into his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. He still held up your head, but his right hand moved down the outside of your thigh, fisting the lacy tops of your tights with a moan of your name
“Ah! You’re so big, honey.” You groaned in response, hands grabbing onto each of his wrists. It’s true, he was. Not the biggest cock in the world, but he stretched you out so incredibly every time. The perfect size.
You were so close to orgasming- you knew with just a few little movements you’d be pushed over the finish line. Nothing had to be said, though, Spencer was fully aware, but he wanted to savor this a bit more; give you a taste of your own medicine, if you will. He leaned in, pulling your head closer to his to envelope your lips with his again. Your legs sandwiched in between your torsos burned at the stretch, but you paid it no mind. 
“Please,” you begged shamelessly against his bottom lip. Spencer let out a small, breathy laugh, pushing your messed up hair out of your face. He pulled away from you to stand up straight, not without gaining a whine in response. You tried to keep your head up to watch him better, but you were losing your strength. With a light thud, you let your head fall against the wooden surface, the wall pressing against the top of your hair. He still wasn’t moving yet, and your orgasm ebbed slightly away. Spencer rubbed his big hands up and down the legs resting on his shoulders, massaging and kissing them wherever he felt like it. He took in the sight of you squirming and whining below him, fingers grasping at any of the random papers left on the desk they could reach, chest heaving. Your pearled nipples stood at attention, compelling him to ghost his fingers over them. He was barely touching you, but the moans and sighs would not stop leaving your throat. With a last kiss to your right calf, Spencer spread your legs open, toes of your kitten heels pointed out towards either side of the room. You watched him through hooded eyelids, hands going to support your legs for him. He tickled his nails deeply up the insides of your thighs, the light pain had you squirming and gasping even more which doubled as your movements had you shifting on Spencer’s cock. It felt so good, but the doctor held his own noises in, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“You said,” you pouted breathlessly, “you wanted to fuck me. Hurry, hurry!” You need to cum so badly.
“Isn’t so fun on the other side, is it?” his mischievous smirk mocked you. It was a lie, it was most definitely fun on the receiving end, but it was even more so on this one. His right hand slid up to cup your chin, thumb pressing onto your lips mirroring your earlier actions, “So desperate,” he murmured, hands moving to grab onto your waist. You huffed and shut your eyes, head rolling to the side. You tried to just focus on Spencer’s touch and feel, but he stopped further motions.
You were so beautiful; in every moment of your lives, but especially like this. Spencer paused for a minute, eyes boring into every centimeter of your figure to burn the image of you into his brain. Your hair splayed over the desk, reminiscent of an angel’s halo; eyes screwed shut with smeared mascara at the corners; glossed lips parted in desire. Oh, how delicious they’d look wrapped around his dick. Your inviting, stocking-clad legs held open just for him, manicured fingers digging into the back of your knees. Spencer’s cock excitedly twitched inside of you once his gaze reached your glistening, swollen pussy, the puffy lips gripping the base of him. His hands wrapped around your own, gripping tight, using them and your legs for balance as he slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, leaving just the tip inside. He was mesmerized, it was a sight he’d seen many times before and was sure to see much more of in the future, but it hypnotized him anyway. He watched as your pussy clenched around him in a failed attempt to keep him in or pull him back, but Spencer wasn’t going to let that happen just yet. His tip pulled out just a bit further before pushing back in a centimeter, repeating the sequence a few more times, playing with your gaping slit. You tried to suck his cock back into you, but Spencer resisted. One more motion and the head of his dick popped out of your clutches with an audible squelch. He reached down this time, grabbing and rubbing his length against your cunt- side to side, up and down. Moans and expletives repeatedly left your mouth, but Spencer continued with a drunken smile on his lips. He slapped the head of his cock against your clit, causing you to twitch and yelp. He loved the reaction, prompting a couple more hits with the same response.
“Spencie…” you whined, ungraciously curling your hips up to gain more friction.
He was about to give in, but there was one other part of you he needed to see. With a single motion, he gripped the outside of your thighs and pulled your body further down the desk, dick sliding against your clit. 
“Oh, shit!” you let out, your head craning to look up at him. 
Spencer roughly pawed at your dress. He first pulled at the top, but it wouldn’t open up more to give him what he wanted, the belt positioned in the way. He moved on, pushing the skirt even high up, bunching it around your waist. He sighed in delight. The delicate filigree of your black garter belt laying right below your belly button stared up at him seductively, begging him to touch her. Spencer’s hands had a mind of their own as they palmed over the fabric, fingers moving over and under the top band to snap it against your skin- just like you did to him. The sound wasn’t as sharp, nevertheless it brought him pleasure. You mewed, lips curled up in a satisfied smile. Internally, you chuckled. You knew he loved the silly little piece of lingerie. 
It was the last piece of the puzzle, the final key to the terminal level. Spencer grabbed two fistfuls of the garter belt and the bunched fabric of your neglected, cooling underwear and, without warning, swiftly pulled you completely onto his cock. You both yelled as he bottomed out, your eyes blowing wide open and jaw dropping slack open. 
“Jesus-fucking-Christ,” Spencer breathed out. The look on your face egged him on. He pulled his cock fully out of you before using your clothing to slam you down onto him again. He stilled for just a second, catching his breath and steadying himself. Before you could utter a single syllable, he began fucking you like there was no tomorrow. 
The initial burn faded into sweet bliss. Your pussy fluttered and clenched around Spencer’s dick and he thrusted into you fast and deep. The bruising feeling of his tip pounding into your cervix gave way to a more intense sensation, your orgasm bubbling back up inside. His powerful motions caused your arms to fly up and Spencer deliriously watched your mouth-watering tits bounce up, down, up, down. Your hands pushed against the wall, trying to prevent your head from hitting it. Although at first you both tried to halter your noises, it proved fruitless. Inattentively, you let your moans and gasps and grunts stretch out to be as loud as they so pleased. The pleasure was so overwhelming, but the desire to watch Spencer fuck you was stronger. His hair flopped around at the sides, the strands at his hairline pasted to his forehead with sweat. He looked utterly pornographic, clothes still on but extremely tousled and uncentered. Sleeves pushed up, collar spread open, tie unevenly loose. His belt buckle clanged against itself, hanging from the trousers still draped around his mid-thighs. You removed one of your hands from the wall, pushing up the front of his body as much as you could, instead. You moved the bottom of his shirt and sweater vest to claw at his abdomen, focusing on the happy trail you loved to lick up. 
Spencer felt the same way as you. He fought to keep his eyes open, gaze flitting all over your body and face instead. You were intoxicating. When your own wandering eyes met his as your hand came down to his lower stomach, he let out a particularly loud moan, pounding into your even harder. The intensity had you latching onto his wrist. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel better, Spencer moved his thumbs down to your cunt, pushing your swollen pussy lips together around his moving cock before shifting them to press against your clit. 
“Holy fuck!” You let out, eyes screwing shut as your other hand left the wall to desperately match your existing hold on Spencer’s wrist. He rubbed in circles with one thumb as best he could, the other pressing into your fatty labia where he knew you had a sensitive spot. You began squirming, nails digging into Spencer’s skin, and you couldn’t even begin to care about your head lightly hitting the wall. “Spencer! I’m gonna come!” 
Spencer rubbed just a bit harder into your clit, earning an enthusiastic, “Just like that!” as your eyes rolled back into your head. He groaned at this, feeling your walls close around his dick. 
“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he huffed, maintaining his pace and pressure, “come for me, angel.”  
Your core tightened up, and with just a few more thrusts your orgasm came crashing down on you. Waves of blinding white light washed over your body as you gushed around Spencer’s cock with a call of his name. The gripping and flitting of your pussy had Spencer groaning and he quickly shifted his arms, letting go of his hold on your garter belt and underwear to hold on to your waist, your limping legs hooking over his elbows. He didn’t let up his thrusts, chasing the orgasm of his own he was so close to reaching. He pushed the impending feeling down, not wanting to give up the sanctity of your hot cunt just yet, but he couldn’t stop his hips. 
As your orgasm began to subside and overstimulation prickled along your nerves, you tried to clench your legs closed, but Spencer wasn’t having any of it. He bent over you to push your legs open and press his forehead back onto yours. “Spencer!” you gasped, staring up at him wide-eyed and frantic. Your hands gripped his flexing forearms, “It’s too much!”
“You’re gonna take it,” he grunted out, fingers digging into the fat of your sides. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard for a second, his thrusts beginning to show signs of faltering. You felt so fucking good he almost wished he didn’t ever have to come, that he could fuck you through orgasm after orgasm without stopping. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
You nodded vigorously, babbling incoherently in agreement through frenzied moans.
“So you’re gonna take it just like this,” he gulped, pushing down a groan at your clenching pussy, “and I’m gonna fucking come inside of you.” His last words came out in a growl, drawing out longer moans from you as his thrusts started to include sloppier grinds. 
Spencer's pelvis grounded into your clit, his balls continued to slap against your ass, his erotic words mushed your brain, and soon the overstimulation pulling tears from your eyes turned into ecstasy and you neared a second orgasm. A strewn out, deep “Fuckk,” crawled from Spencer’s throat as your cunt squeezed him in quick succession, followed by your name being whispered and moaned repeatedly like a mantra.
You wanted to come again at the same time as him, and you were right at the edge, just as you knew he was, so you pushed him further to the precipice, “Spencer,” you pleaded breathlessly, “come on, baby.” You rested your hand on his cheek, urging him to open his eyes and look at you. “Fill me up.”
He groaned in response, head dropping down to press against the top of your breasts. A couple more sloppy, hard thrusts and he started “I’m gonna-”
But just before he could finish, you were jolted into stillness by a deafened boom, boom, boom. What the hell?
Someone was at the door.
You let out a yelp, Spencer’s hand immediately flew up to slap against your mouth. 
“Reid? What’s going on in there?” You heard from the other side of the door. It was fucking Rossi. 
Author's Note: muahaha >:D idk why but this is just how i imagined this piece ending. hope you guys liked ittttt, if you're reading this thanks for sticking to it. should i write a pt.2? i def already know how i'd continue (tho not smutty). did not think smut would be the first spencer fanfic i'd post. thinking of writing a follow up where spencer finally gets his release teehee. i'd love feedback and comments, pls! ty lovelies <3
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zepskies · 1 month ago
Text
Lost on You - Part 12
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: And here we go, with our Avengers: Civil War moment…
Song Inspo: “I Go to Extremes” by Billy Joel
Word Count: 5.1K
Tags/Warnings: Violence, blood, and death. Angst, peril, hurt/comfort, and fluff.
🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
🎙️ Series Masterlist
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Part 12: A Fire in the Blood
Ben walked into the kitchen the next morning in search of coffee and food. He added some grounds to the coffeemaker on the counter and grabbed a bagel from the fridge, then slammed the door shut.  
“All right, get the fuck out,” he said, as if to an empty room. “I’m gonna lose my breakfast before I even eat it.”
Slowly, Charlie and Donna stood up from behind the kitchen island. Both of them looked wrecked. Her hair was wild and disheveled. He had dark red lipstick smudged all around his mouth and neck. Their clothes were bundled in their hands, but they needed no further prompting to run butt-ass naked out of the kitchen. Ben shook his head.
“Fucking animals,” he muttered.
But he didn’t blame them for being bored.
Meanwhile down the hall, Donna pulled Charlie into the shower with her. She got him to start washing her hair while she bathed the rest of herself with a bar of soap.
“He took it a lot better than I expected,” she said.
“Well, he’s probably known since at least last night,” Charlie said, smirking. “The man’s got super hearing, and you didn’t exactly keep it down.”
She reached back to smack his thigh teasingly. “That’s not what I meant. I just thought he’d raise more hell.”
She actually frowned at the thought. Part of her had indulged with Charlie because she thought it might piss Ben off, but to her surprise, he didn’t seem to give much of a fuck. In the past, he once snapped a man’s wrist for touching her ass at a gala. In fact, he’d ruined a lot of perfectly good hookup opportunities for her by being his jealous, caveman self, even though he was whoring himself out with any willing female.
So now, either Ben hated her that much, or…he actually did care about you.
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Ben answered his cell when it rang. It was a familiar number.
Arthur. This better be fucking it.
“Did you find her?” he asked.
“Yeah, I found her,” Arthur said, with a grim sigh. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“Where?” Ben demanded. His hand clenched on the phone, threatening to crack the frame.
“Nottingham, West Virginia. It’s one of Vought’s most high-security labs. I didn’t even have clearance to know about it when I worked there,” he said. “It’s easy to miss though. Somewhere between a national forest and a couple of cemeteries.”
“Good enough for me,” Ben said. He finished his coffee in one quick slurp and headed over to his room to get the rest of his suit on. He was only half dressed.
“I hope you find her. Now I’ll be fucking off to Belize. Stan’s probably already got eyes on me,” said Arthur.
“Don’t you worry about Stan. After I get Sirena, I’m chopping the head off the fucking snake,” Ben said angrily.
“Okay, well, good luck to ya.”
After hanging up and lacing up his boots, Ben headed out of the room and down the hall. He banged a fist on the bathroom door, hard enough to rattle its hinges.
“Suit up, kids! We’re headed out.”
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Arthur’s directions were direct enough. Donna had to park her car somewhere along the main road, but it was another mile or so before Ben finally found what they were looking for: a solitary building that looked like a nondescript farmhouse from the outside.
“This is their top secret high-security lab?” Charlie said. “Looks abandoned.”
“That’s exactly how they want it to look,” Ben said. It reminded him of the lab in Siberia. He was willing to bet that the lab itself ran several stories and floors underground.
Once they stepped out from the safety of the trees, gunshots rained from above and up ahead. There was a line of armed guards emerging from the front and the back of the building, while a helicopter descended from above.
Donna took out most of the guards on the ground, while Charlie shot his guns at the helicopter and took out the glass in the windshield. Ben threw up his shield at it, causing irreparable damage to the vessel. The pilot was forced to initiate a crash landing.
The helicopter doors opened, revealing Black Noir. He grabbed another man and jumped from the helicopter. The other man screamed, but the landing was swift. Noir made sure that Mindstorm landed on his feet, more or less, while the helicopter carved into the ground behind them and combusted.
Ah, the gang’s all here, Ben thought grimly. It saved him the trouble of hunting those two down as well.
“So it’s true,” Mindstorm said, taking in the sight of Ben with both astonishment and dread.
“Hey, Dan,” said Ben. “Looking rough.”
It was true. The man appeared to be a shell of his former self; thin, with lines of age around his eyes and across his forehead, his skin pale and splotchy. A decade of paranoia and reclusion hadn’t done much good for Dan. Noir must've scrounged him up from his hiding hole, like fishing out a rat from the sewer.
“Look, we don’t have to do this,” Charlie tried. “Just let him get Sirena out of there. After what you guys did, she doesn’t deserve that.”
Ben glanced at his former sidekick. He actually seemed sincere.
Too bad Noir wasn’t about to go for it. He had Vought’s dick so far up his ass, he wouldn’t likely take a shit without Stan Edgar’s say so. He crouched into a fighting stance and unsheathed his katana. The rest of the guards poured in to flank around him and Mindstorm.
Ben rolled a crack out of his neck.
“Fine. If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you’ll fucking get,” he said.
Noir started charging at him first, but Donna shot off a fireball in his direction.
Chaos ignited from there.
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Something’s wrong. You felt it, with so many energies converging high above you. It must’ve meant that you were underground, yet again.
There were still men in the compound itself. You now felt their energies being stuffed out, closer and closer in your direction.
Ben? You wondered. You stood up from your cot in nervous anticipation, wrapping your arms protectively around yourself. After Vogelbaum dropped his news, you’d spent the entire night battling your shock, followed shortly by your panic.
No matter what they did to you now, there was no way you were going to let them hurt your child.
Ben…
More than anything, you wanted to see him. You wanted to tell him that his dream was coming true, whether he was ready for it or not…
But there was something coming, and it wasn’t him. You would’ve felt it if it was him. By the rate the men were dying somewhere outside of your cell, however, it was getting closer to your cell. For some reason, you just couldn’t identify the energy signature itself.
You got your answer when your cell door forcibly opened. You gaped in shock.
“Countess?” you said.
She was panting for breath, but she whipped a sweaty lock of red hair out of her eyes and reached out a gloved hand for you.
“Come on, before I change my fucking mind,” she said.
You were still in shock, but you managed to break yourself out of it to follow her out of the cell. You had to stop short though, as an entire unit of Vought security came pouring into the hall with raised guns.
You opened your mouth and began your siren song. Within seconds, every man curled in on themselves as they screamed in pain. Some of them managed to rip their helmets off as they gripped their heads. Tears of blood dripped down from their eyes, and they all soon fell into lifeless heaps.
You stopped singing, and your eyes faded from glowing violet to their normal hue. Donna looked at you, both stunned and wary.
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t work on women. Even frigid cunts like you,” you said with a grin.
She smirked back. “Come on then.”
“Where’s Ben?” you asked, joining her in hastening down the hall.
“Up there fighting,” she replied, pointing up to the ceiling. “You’re about fifteen floors down from the outside world.”
“Fucking figures,” you muttered, but your heart swelled to know that Ben was here, and he was all right. Your hand went to your lower belly on reflex.
“Wait,” you gasped, as something occurred to you. “We need to find someone.”
“What the fuck do you mean? We need to get out of here!” Donna said.
“There’s a kid somewhere in here, and I’m not leaving without him,” you snapped. You began opening doors where you sensed a presence inside. Most often it was a lab technician or other employee, and Donna vaporized them.
You opened one door and found Dr. Vogelbaum. Finally, you saw him react with widening eyes. You felt his fear.
Donna eviscerated him too, in a bloody mess of limbs.
You grimaced at the gore, but you paused, noticing a thick file on the man’s desk.
THE HOMELANDER PROJECTwas stamped at the top in large red letters. You picked your way through the mess and grabbed the file. Then you and Donna continued heading down the hall.
There at the end was a red door. Something about it called to you. You reached out with your awareness, and you felt a familiar male energy, young and scared and alone.
You beckoned Donna over. The door was heavy and locked, but the two of you worked together to twist it open by its large circular handle, like the hatch on a submarine. It swung open with a creak, and inside the room was a bare white cell, not unlike yours.
A young boy sat against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees, wearing a white shirt and plain gray sweatpants. He was blonde and blue-eyed, and he felt familiar to you on-sight.
“John?” you said, stepping inside the cell.
He tilted his head, like he recognized your voice. He said your name uncertainly as he got up to his feet. 
“Yeah, it’s me,” you said, approaching him with cautious steps. “I’m getting out of here, but I want you to come with me.”
John looked reluctant, even as he glanced at your outstretched hand.
“Vogelbaum is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore,” you said. “John, please, let me help you.”
After a moment of his indecision, John reached out and carefully grasped your hand. You led him out of the cell, and encouraged him to stay close to you when you and Donna started back towards the elevators.
The three of you rode all the way up to the top level, where the sounds of an epic fight raged behind the doors of the building. Still, it was a familiar balm to your frayed mind to step outside those doors and find a bright sun beating down on a dusty clearing. Beyond it was layers of forest trees.
Donna said that her car was about a mile in that direction, but before you guys could attempt to get to safety, Noir landed right in front of you.
“Irving—” you said in warning.
Donna raised her hands, prepared to blast him into pieces, but John threw the first punch. It landed squarely in Noir’s chest and had him flying several feet away, into a nearby tree. Your mouth fell open in shock as you gave the kid a wide-eyed look.
John smiled up at you, in a—Did I do good?—kind of way.
“Holy shit,” Donna muttered.
You huffed a short laugh and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Good job, bud.”
You shifted your attention to the rest of the battle, and it caught on Ben with a gasp. He was striding toward Mindstorm with his shield held in front of him. He backhanded Mindstorm in the face and quickly got him pinned on the ground.
Charlie was already lying unconscious, trapped in his own mind. Donna went to try and help him, while you started running headfirst toward the other two men.
“Ben!” you shouted out.
He glanced up at you on reflex, but it proved to be an unfortunate distraction, giving Mindstorm the opening he needed to reach out a hand and touch Ben’s forehead. His eyes closed and he collapsed to the ground.
“No!” the ragged yell tore from your throat. You knew full well what Mindstorm was capable of.
You rushed forward and tried to capture Mindstorm with your siren song. It managed to hold him in place, making him grip at his temples with strain. You knew you didn’t totally have him under your spell, however. Not until you knelt down in front of him and grabbed his face with both hands. Your eyes illuminated brighter as you focused all of your power on him.
Mindstorm fought it tooth and nail, but ultimately, the pull of you was too much. He screamed as blood trailed down his face from his eyes, nose, and ears, until his voice faded, and his blue eyes became unseeing. When you released him, he slumped into a heap.
You fell back onto your ass and heaved for breath. All the while, you stared at his unseeing eyes. Part of you felt sick with yourself. The other part felt vindicated, and a little more free.
With a gasp, you remembered Ben. You turned over and crawled over to his body where he laid unconscious in the dirt and dead leaves.
Fuck. You shouldn’t have killed Mindstorm. He was the only one who could’ve brought him out of this.
Unless…
An idea struck you, and you knew you had to try. You shuffled onto your knees and took Ben’s face carefully in your shaking hands. You closed your eyes.
Focusing your powers on his being, you entered his mind. You waded through waves of darkness as they lapped at you, trying to draw you in. But you were a brighter light. You went deeper, layer by layer.
You began to see moving images, like scenes from a reel. You saw his father, berating him. You saw the moment Compound V was injected into his arm, immediately filling his veins with pain. You saw his mother’s funeral, a day marked by falling snow and a stoic set of Ben’s young shoulders.
You saw so many days and nights at the facility where you both were kept, but one in particular struck at your own heart—the day Dr. Eisenstein had you brought you into Ben’s cell and slammed you down on the table in front of him, prepared to inject an unknown experimental serum into your body.
Ben’s face seemed angry on the outside, but this deep inside his mind, you felt his anger, as well as his fear, and his desire to protect you.
You weren’t sure it would work, but you needed to get his attention somehow. You needed to wake him up.
“Ben!” you shouted to him.
To your relief, he actually looked over at you, meeting your gaze with surprise in his own.
Until you were ripped away from him, out of his mind and into the waking world. Your bleary eyes eventually focused on the dark shape above you. On Black Noir.
He hauled you up by your arms and began to drag you across the clearing, away from Ben.
“Stop!” you struggled. Noir ignored you, just tightening his hold.
He dragged you past Donna’s body. She was dying on the ground, with her throat cut and bubbling with blood. Your eyes widened, but you quickly took in the rest of the clearing.
John was trapped under the massive trunk of a fallen tree, struggling to get up. He was being swarmed by Vought security guards.
Just over Noir’s shoulder, you caught sight of Ben. He was starting to wake up, and he turned over and pushed himself up onto one knee. Relief filled your chest.
In a fit of desperation, you dug your heels into the ground. “Let go! Let go of me!”
You opened your mouth and took in a breath to sing, but how quickly Noir’s hand wrapped around your throat, choking the breath right out of you. He tightened his hold, little by little, until you began to feel lightheaded. Panic gripped at your heart.
“Stop, Noir, please! I’m pregnant!” you pleaded, with tears in your eyes.
Beyond him, you met Ben’s gaze. His mouth fell open as he stared at you, after half scrambling to his feet.
You returned your attention to Noir when you realized you could feel his shock, and the tension through your hand on his glove. He glanced over his shoulder at Ben, then back at your tearful eyes. You felt Noir’s disgust, swiftly followed by his anger.
You gasped when he let you go, just so he could unsheathe his weapon. Ben gritted his teeth in anger. Before he could throw his shield, Noir swung his katana down on you.
You instinctively raised up your arms to protect yourself, but the blade only shattered against your skin. You raised your head, blinking in shock. You clenched your fists, and you realized that you felt different, somehow. You were strong.
You shoved Noir hard in the chest, and he flew several feet away, rolling in the dirt as he landed.
Ben ran over to join you. He wrapped his non-shield wielding arm around your waist and pulled you tight against him. You melted into him in relief, resting your head against his chest.
“I don’t know how I did that,” you admitted.
“Looks like knocking you up comes with some added perks,” he said, grinning down at you.
Once you understood what he meant, another wave of shock hit you. The life inside you was not only carrying his genes, but some of his power as well, making you strong.
You looked up at his smug grin and rolled your eyes in amusement, but you also wanted to grab his face and pull him down for a kiss. The look in his eyes told you he wanted to oblige, but you both stopped short, coming to attention when you saw Noir picking himself up from the ground.
“I’ve got him,” Ben said darkly. He let go of you and took a step toward Noir, putting himself in front of you.
Two old enemies faced each other. This time, Ben began to make the first move.
Just then, a pair of red laser beams broke through the clearing and cut through Noir’s mask and skull. He dropped to his knees, and then fell to the ground.
What the hell…
Slowly you turned back to see that John had broken free of the guards. All of them lied either passed out or dead at his feet. He stepped over them and went to your side with shaky hands, shocked at even his own power. Had he known he could do that?
“Are you okay?” he asked you in concern.
You were still reeling, but you nodded and grasped his shoulder. Ben was unsettled looking at John. You knew the look on his face. He wasn’t sure whether the kid was a threat as well. Ben slid an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him.
“Ben, this is John,” you explained. “He was a ‘guest’ in the lab, same as me.”
Ben seized up the kid. Eventually he rested his shield on the ground and reached out his hand.
“John, huh?”
The kid nodded and shook his hand. “Y-Yes, sir.”
“That’s a strong name,” Ben said. John smiled.
With that small peace won, you slipped away from Ben and went to Charlie. You knelt down and felt for his pulse at his neck. You shook your head in sadness.
“He’s gone,” you said. Ben helped you stand again.
You were disappointed about Donna too, even knowing she was the one who helped sell you out in the first place. You were sure it was probably under duress, but she had saved you today.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ben said. You agreed, but first, you looked back at the lab.
“They took vials of my blood. God knows what else they have in there,” you said.
“They took your fucking blood?” he said, through furrowed brows.
“Yeah, that’s how I know I’m pregnant,” you said, again, holding a hand to your belly. Ben softened slightly at that.
He blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay, you and the kid hang back. Far back.”
You grasped John’s shoulder and led him over to the dense line of trees. You both hunkered down behind a fallen tree trunk and watched Ben approach the lab.
He set a firm stance and concentrated, until his chest glowed with power. Letting loose a yell of strain, he summoned a blast that destroyed the entire building. It not only created a backlash of debris and flames, but it also shook the earth. He stalked forward and angled the blast downward, so that it would consume the floors below as well.
You had to duck down further as the impact of the blast was too much. John covered you with his arms around your shoulders.
When it was over, Ben struggled to regain his breath. He even stumbled a bit on his way back to you, but he kept a steady pace, until he found you and the kid again. Ben reached a hand for you and once again helped you up from the ground, guiding you into his arms.
His chest still felt hot, but you didn’t care. You curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him down to you for a kiss. It was relief, it was passion, and it was home.
You parted slowly, his forehead pressing against yours.
“I love you,” you whispered into the small space in between.
Releasing a subtle breath, Ben nodded. You opened your eyes and cupped his cheek.
“You can say it,” you prompted, teasingly. “It’s not gonna kill you.”
You could hazard a guess at what he was thinking. This close, you could feel him, and his reluctance. But his lips hinted at a smile.
“Yeah, I fucking love you,” he said. He thumbed at your chin, his gaze roaming over your face before he met your eyes. “I love you.”
Tears made your vision blur a little. You nodded, smiling, and reached up on your toes for another kiss.
“Are you guys done yet?” John asked. He shifted on his feet, all antsy and tired. “Can we go?”
Ben’s face fell into annoyance at the kid. You gave him a rueful smile, and one last stroke of his cheek.
“The car’s about a mile out,” Ben said.
“Yep,” you said. “I guess we start walking.”
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John slept in the backseat of the car while Ben drove down the highway going northeast. His gaze roamed over you as you stared out the window, seemingly calm with that file you stole from Vogelbaum’s office resting on your lap.
With a sigh, you turned your attention to it. Ben couldn’t help but distract you first. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh.
“Hey,” he said. You perked up at him.
“You okay?” he asked. You smiled a little and slipped your hand over his.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Considering.”
He alternated between watching the road and watching you a bit closer.
“Did they hurt you?” he pressed. You shook your head, squeezing his hand.
“No. They pretty much left me alone,” you said, though his concern warmed you. You also sensed something else underneath…the sting of regret. It took him a few beats, but he eventually spoke.
“I shouldn’t have let you go out alone,” he said, briefly meeting your eyes. “I should’ve been there.”
It was as close to an apology as you’d ever gotten from him. You almost smiled.
“Look, we’re here now,” you said. “Pretty soon, this is all just going to be a bad memory we can put behind us, like everything else.”
You rubbed his arm and glanced down at the file sitting on your lap. Your curiosity had you flipping it open. The more you read over its contents, the more your face slackened in shock.
“Oh my God, Ben,” you whispered.
“What?”
“Pull over for a minute.”
“We can’t stop here. We need to get to the airport.”
“This is important. Stop the car.”
He huffed in annoyance, but he pulled the car over. He left the car running and got out along with you.
You later leaned against the passenger side while he read the file. You watched the shock descend over his face as it all began to click together in his mind. He turned and pointed at the backseat of the car.
“He’s…”
“Yeah,” you said.
“Christ on a damn cross,” he said.
“Yeah,” you repeated. You covered your mouth with a hand. “And the poor kid’s been kept in that basement his whole damn life… It was Vogelbaum’s project, but how did he do it?”
A realization fell over Ben. He joined you in leaning against the car. The file fell to his side.
“Back in…’81. No, beginning of ’83, before you joined up. Vogelbaum wanted a sample of my swimmers for an experiment. Something about genetics,” he said. He still remembered the Penthouse Forum he used to give his “sample.”
June. Danielle Deneux. Bush like a Pomeranian. He almost smiled at the memory, but the rest of it soured that part for him.
You gave him an incredulous look. “And you didn’t ask questions about what they were going to use your sperm for?”
Ben rolled his eyes and gave you the file. You shook your head.
“The point is, John is…more or less your son,” you said.
“What?!” John exclaimed. He spooked you and Ben when he popped up in the car window.
You should’ve known he’d have enhanced hearing. Just like his father.
John came out of the car, and both father and son looked at one another in assessing ways. Even though they had different coloring, you started to notice the similar shape of their jawlines, the line of their noses. John soon had tears in his eyes.
“You…you’re my dad?” he said.
Ben’s hands went to his hips. His posture was stiff and awkward.
“I guess I am,” he said.
He didn’t expect the way John literally flew over and hugged him with a strength that impacted Ben. He grunted and grabbed the kid’s shoulders.
“Okay, all right, lock it up. Don’t be a little girl about it.”
John’s face fell with dejection, but he dropped his arms and took a step back. You became both dismayed and angry.
“Ben!” you said sharply. “Let your son hug you, for fuck’s sake.”
He shot you a warning look, but you had your hand on John’s shoulder as you glared back at Ben. He crossed his arms.
Then he uncrossed them with an exasperated huff. He went to John and dropped a hand on his shoulder. Smiling in satisfaction, you moved back to give them a moment.
Ben looked down at the kid’s face. His blonde hair and blue eyes weren’t his. He must’ve taken after his mother, whoever she was, or whatever genetics Vogelbaum manipulated, but he did see his own strong jaw in the kid.
“Well, it’s unfortunate that we couldn’t meet sooner, but…looks like you’re my son,” said Ben. “I'm thinking you want to stick around with us.”
John nodded vigorously.
“All right,” Ben said. “Then let’s get going.”
John nodded again, quickly wiping at his face to clear away his tears.
Good, Ben thought with a quirk of his lips. He squeezed John’s shoulder and let him go, so he could return to the driver’s side of the car. You gave John a warm hug. Ben saw it through the window and almost shook his head. He could already tell that you were going to try to mother that boy.
Somehow, that thought just softened him, at least a little. Because it reminded him that you were carrying his child as well. Not to mention, his blood was making you nice and strong.
When you slid into the passenger seat, he grabbed your hand and pressed a kiss over your knuckles. You smiled at him.
“Where are we gonna go?” John asked.
Ben glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Ben's brows drew together as his expression firmed.
“To finish what we started,” he said.
You knew what that meant. He wanted to go to New York to finish off Stan Edgar, Stillwell, and anyone else who had a hand in their capture.
“Ben, they’ll never stop trying to get him back,” you said, gesturing at John. “And…when Vogelbaum took my blood, he said they wanted to monitor me. Apparently this has never happened before…a supe getting another supe pregnant.”
Ben paused.
“He talked like I was a rat in his lab, and he wanted to document the findings,” you said, as tears welled up in your eyes and made your throat tight with emotion, and the remnants of dread.
Ben frowned and squeezed your hand.
“That’s not fucking happening,” he said. You sighed and wiped at your cheek. After taking a few steadying breaths, you managed to get a hold of yourself.
“If we go back to New York, it’s a big risk,” you said.
This time, Ben actually considered what you were saying. He was stubborn though.
“I can’t just fucking let it go. What Stan Edgar did, what they all did—”
“If you take out Stan, they’ll just put another one in his place. I doubt it’ll ever end,” you said. You moved his hand to your stomach. “But if you want this. If you want a family, this is it.”
Ben glanced down at his hand under yours, and then your face. As much as he wanted the rest of his revenge, he also wanted, and needed to protect you. He couldn’t make another mistake like last time. If you were taken from him again, he’d have no one to blame but himself. 
That also posed a harder question. Where the hell could he take you where you’d be safe? Even Arthur had fucked off to Belize.
Ben stroked your hand in contemplation…until an idea came to him.
A grin raised his lips.
“All right,” he said. “How do you feel about Colombia?”
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AN: Lol! Suffice to say, there's going to be a big BMD easter egg in the Epilogue, but did you like how the final battle shook out? Was there anything that surprised you? Do you wish some members of Payback had lived?
I went back and forth on how some characters would meet their end, but I felt that this is the story I wanted to tell, with her, Ben, and John escaping together and forming their strange new family. 😂💚
Next Time: The Epilogue...
A phone dock rested on the coffee table. The call was on speaker.
“That child represents a multi-million-dollar investment,” said Stan Edgar.
“You should’ve thought about that before you shipped us off to motherfucking Siberia,” Ben snapped. “Hell, before you decided to steal my goddamn DNA. But guess fucking what. He’s my son. He belongs with me.”
You gave him a look of pride, resting a hand on his thigh in support. He glanced at you and grabbed your hand.
“You’re not leaving me with much recourse here, Soldier Boy,” Stan replied.
Ben leaned forward. He took that as a very real threat.
▶️ Keep Reading: The Epilogue
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darkfluffydragon · 5 months ago
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Shoving the Phantasmagoria Duo into the SCP foundation >:3
Item #: SCP-1029 Object Class: Safe Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1029 is to be kept in a reinforced glass display case within a secure containment chamber at Site-221. Access to SCP-1029 requires Level 2 clearance and authorization from at least one Level 3 researcher. The containment chamber is to be monitored at all times via surveillance cameras. Testing involving SCP-1029 must be approved by the Site Director and conducted in a controlled environment. Description: SCP-1029 is a sentient orchid flower resembling a wooden staff. At the apex of the staff is a single eye, which exhibits movements consistent with those of a human eye. The staff measures approximately 1.5 metres in length. SCP-1029 displays several anomalous properties:
Healing: SCP-1029 has the ability to heal any physical wound or injury inflicted upon a living being. The extent of its healing capabilities surpasses conventional medical treatment, demonstrating near-instantaneous regeneration of tissue and loss of limbs. It has yet to be tested whether or not SCP-1029 can bring back a subject who is on the brink of death.
Compulsion: One of SCP-1029 most notable effects is its compulsion to compel truthfulness in individuals who hold it. Subjects holding SCP-1029 report an overwhelming urge to speak only the truth, often confessing thoughts or feelings they would otherwise keep hidden. This effect persists until the staff is released. Attempts to deceive while holding SCP-1029 result in discomfort or pain for the subject. Many resisted the idea of even attempting to lie while under the influence of SCP-1029 due to finding the thought “nauseating” and “disturbing”.
Sentience: SCP-1029 displays signs of sentience, exhibiting awareness of its surroundings and reacting to stimuli in its vicinity. Additionally, SCP-1029 demonstrates a degree of control over its anomalous properties, selectively activating its effects based on the intentions of those interacting with it.
Magic: SCP-1029 showcases additional unexplainable ‘magical’ properties, including the ability to emit a soft, soothing light and to create a shield. It has been observed to manifest minor telekinetic effects, such as moving objects within its vicinity. Testing is still being done to see what else SCP-1029 can do.
However, if SCP-1029 is used to intentionally harm another being, the item exhibits signs of distress. The eye appears to express sorrow or disappointment and SCP-1029 emits a faint sad chiming or bell noise. Continued misuse of SCP-1029 results in heightened emotional distress, with the staff actively resisting attempts to use it for harmful purposes. SCP-1029 has been in existence for an indeterminate amount of time, with historical records dating back several centuries and the ancient ruins by the ████████ Forest that it was found in being theorised to be perhaps even older. Dr. ██████ believes that SCP-1029 is related to [DATA EXPUNGED] Occasionally, certain individuals are able to perceive a faint apparition holding SCP-1029, adorned with a golden crown. This phenomenon occurs sporadically and seemingly at random, with no discernible pattern or trigger. Individuals who experience these sightings report feelings of warmth, safety, and tranquillity. This figure has been named SCP-1029-1 Addendum 1029-1: SCP-1029 exhibits the ability to influence the wielder’s mental state, as during a recent test where the previously aggressive subject was asked to hold SCP-1029 for a prolonged period of time, the subject’s behaviour was recorded to slowly become abnormally passive. SCP-1029 was removed from the subject before the test could further continue, and we are waiting for further instructions. Addendum 1029-1: Other SCPs are more capable of seeing SCP-1029-1 than regular people. Further testing is required to see if subjects undergoing anomalous effects are able to see SCP-1029-1.
Name: Dr.Phantasmagoria (SCP-1067)
Occupation: Senior Researcher (Level 3) Part of the Antimemetics Division
Current Status: Phantas is currently kept within Site-221 after being transferred from the Antimemetics Division by [REDACTED] due to [DATA EXPUNGED]. Phantas's eccentric demeanour and unconventional methods contribute to his effectiveness in handling anomalies. However, his propensity for unorthodox approaches requires additional oversight to ensure compliance with Foundation protocols and containment standards.
Special Considerations: Phantas's status as SCP-1067 introduces unique containment challenges, as his anomalous properties render others susceptible to antimeme and amnestics symptoms. Despite having been deemed safe and having dedicated a long period of time working as a researcher within the SCP Foundation, regular monthly evaluations are essential to mitigate potential security breaches and safeguard sensitive information both for Phantas and those who come in regular contact with him.
Additional Notes: Phantas must undergo regular psychological evaluations to ensure his mental stability and resistance to anomalous influences.
He will never be allowed to receive a higher clearance level.
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ksjanes · 2 months ago
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Beautiful Last Dollar
Took this forest road between Ridgway and Telluride, Colorado. It traverses through a rural ranch land setting before ascending through spruce-fir and aspen forest, providing occasional views of Wilson Peak and Greyhead. It is a popular road to travel for viewing the fall colors. Portions of the road can become impassable during wet conditions. A high clearance, four wheel drive vehicle is recommended.
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beguines · 2 months ago
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Landscape helps capture the forms in which nations and movements literally and figuratively 'construct' or 'produce' nature, engineering its appearance and infusing it with significations—rendering landscape a 'cultural practice' rather than a given fact. Here landscape is both an object of investigation and a site of intervention; the very medium within which power and resistance are represented and conducted. Put differently, landscape is far from a neutral backdrop but is rather activated, serving as the medium of violence. Dispossession, deforestation, planting, land-grabbing, and acquisitions, privatization, re-modeling, clearance, or the destruction of infrastructures of life, including food sources, buildings, or supplies, all mobilize the landscape in their domination.
Representations of Middle Eastern and North African landscapes nearly invariably include desolate scenes of endless empty and parched deserts, decorated perhaps with an isolated string of camels, or a beach with large mounds of golden sand, a minaret, or an oil tower in the background. The temporality and general impression of these landscapes is slow, hazy, and dizzying, as if they are waiting for 'activation' by someone or something outside of it. Whether reproduced in academic scholarship, literature, film, tourist advertisements, or news media, these imagined colonial representations of the region's landscape place the environment centrally within them, projecting an understanding of the Middle East and North Africa as marginal, on the edge of ecological viability or as a degraded landscape facing imminent disaster due to human inaction. With this, an environmental imaginary enabled storytelling that pushed forward imperial interests in the name of 'development' and, later, of environmental 'sustainability' and 'protection.' In the case of the constructed 'Middle East,' as Diana K. Davis explains,
"Deforestation narratives have been particularly strong in the Levant region since the nineteenth century, where some of the most emotional accounts of forest destruction have hinged on the presumed widespread destruction of the Lebanese cedar forests illustrated in the cover image by Louis-François Cassas. Similar narratives of overgrazing and desertification were used during the British Mandate in Palestine to justify forestry policies as well as laws aimed at controlling nomads, such as the 1942 Bedouin control ordinance, in the name of curbing overgrazing. Such environmental imaginaries, once constructed, can be extremely tenacious and have surprisingly widespread effects."
In Palestine, the construction of an 'Israeli landscape' to redeem the purported damage done to the land by its indigenous population commenced with the first Zionist settlers in the nineteenth century and intensified with the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. Reflected in former Prime Minister David Ben Gurion's 1951 public address to the newly formed Israeli Knesset (Parliament):
"We must wrap all the mountains of the country and their slopes in trees, all the hills and stony lands that will not succeed in agriculture, the dunes of the coastal valley, the dry lands of the Negev to the east and south of Baer Sheva, that is to say all of the land of Edom and the Arava until Eilat. We must also plant for security reasons, along all the borders, along all the roads, routes, and paths, around public and military buildings and facilities [ . . . ] We will not be faithful to one of the two central goals of the state—making the wilderness bloom—if we make do with only the needs of the hour [ . . . ] We are a state at the beginning of repairing the corruption of generations, corruption which was done to the nation and corruption which was done to the land."
This 'Israeli landscape' was largely cultivated through the multifaceted and by now well-documented eco-colonial practices of the quasi-governmental Israeli organization, Keren Kayemet L'Yisrael, the Jewish National Fund (JNF), which has since made striking efforts to position Israel as an environmental pioneer. Established in 1901, the JNF may very well be the first transnational environmental nationalist NGO, seeking to 'make the desert bloom' by planting forests, natural reserves, and recreational parks over the ruins of Palestinian villages, holy places, and historical sites. Distinguishing itself from other transnational Zionist organizations, such as the World Zionist Organization and the Jewish Agency, the JNF has since its inception portrayed itself as an environment-oriented nationalist organization, supporting the 'redemption' and 'reclamation' of the land through colonial policies presented in the language of preservation, maintenance, protection, and development of vital ecosystems and ecologically sound environments. Indeed, its public-facing promotional materials boast proudly that "Israel is the only country in the world that entered the twenty-first century with a net gain in the number of trees"—without context, of course, of the ways in which trees and the 'greened' landscape in the country are mobilized as weapons of erasure as part of a colonial imaginary that naturalizes non-Palestinian presence.
Shourideh C. Molavi, Environmental Warfare in Gaza: Colonial Violence and New Landscapes of Resistance
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townpostin · 2 months ago
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Dhalbhumgarh Airport Project Faces Hurdles as Forest Clearance Returned for Revisions
The Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change requests more details on Dhalbhumgarh Airport’s forest clearance proposal, clarifying the site isn’t within the Elephant Corridor. The Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEF&CC) has returned the Dhalbhumgarh Airport project’s forest clearance proposal to the Jharkhand government, seeking additional information and…
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villainsimpqueen · 8 months ago
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Echoes of Paradise Lost
Part 2/chapter 2?
Adam x Reader x Eve
This sets place in the Garden of Eden. They speak in old english.
Reader is Intersex and goes by they/them.
(All my fics are 18+)
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(Art found on Pinterest all rights goes to the original artist)
Chapter 2/Part 2
The voices had not returned, taken care of by your husband, just like Adam had promised you in your need.
But it seems that the snakes had brought more problems than their tormenting voices, as your dearest Wife and Husband had started up their bickering.
Seeing you so terrified and needing protection and comfort when you had fled from the forest and into their arms had caused a new feeling to capture both Eve and Adam's hearts.
Possessiveness
The need to make you feel safe and comforted.
To keep you for themselves.
Adam had suddenly wanted you to join him on all of his hunts, wanting you to be near him so that he could protect you from ever being targeted by them again.
The memory of how tightly you held his arms around you as you clung to him for his protection had not left his mind. He had not yet experienced the elation he felt when you wanted to be held in his arms, faithfully knowing that he would provide you safety even though he had not been very close to you.
He wanted to feel that again, He wanted you to always know that he would keep you and Eve safe and that you could always count on him to do so. Adam also wanted to show you how to defend yourself with a spear. While he was very confident he could be a good Husband and keep you safe, there was, however, a very slight sense of doubt.
He knew that They could be alluring and he didnt want to leave you so defenseless if they try to attack you like they had again.
You were His spouse and he would be damned if the snakes lead you to be banished like they had been.
He would keep you safe from ever suffering such a fate. Keeping you and Eve safe was now all that mattered to him, especially from them.
"Follow me quietly, keep thy spear close and ready to strike, and thou shalt not go hungry.” He instructed you turning his head to meet your eyes with his own.
He watched you nod your head obediently as you mimicked his movements.
It caused him to swallow thickly as his eyes moved over your body, a fur wrapped around your shoulders it was long falling just below your hips, a gift Eve your shared wife had made after you refused to leave their home for days after the snakes attacking you.
While the fur moved and opened here and there due to your movements briefly revealing yourself underneath it kept you fairly hidden. As if you truly believed that you were tainted by the Snakes eyes.
It brought an anger in his chest as he turned his head to lead you through the bush.
He believed with his whole being that you were truly pure, that even they could never taint you.
You had sought out for him, for Eve.
Your Husband, Your wife.
Not the snakes.
Them, Him.
How could you not be anything else but Pure? You should never feel the need to hide yourself and Adam swore that he will make you feel so utterly safe again that you will return Eve's gift back to the bedding of furs of your shared home.
The hunt had been successful. You lead the way back to the Cave you three shared excitement in your tone as you moved infront of your husband who carried the buck you striked down over his shoulders.
"Saw you my feat? I've achieved it! I can now provide for thee, my beloved husband!” Your delightfully soft voice proudly fell on his ears as you turnwd your head back to stare up at him with those pretty e/c eyes you beheld.
His lips twitched as a smirk grew on his face.
"Thou mayst aid in providing for me, my beloved spouse.” He softly chuckled watching how your face seemed to light up as you both went off the trail of the forrest and back into the familiar clearances of the home you all shared.
Eve who was busy mending clay bowls looked up over the fire, her honey eyes falling on adam and the dead deer before falling on your bouncing form The smiles on her beloves faces brought one of her own as she moved up from her task and moved over. Her honey eyes watching how the smile of your lips reached to your eyes as you looked at your shared husband. She felt a twisting feeling as she too wanted you to look at her with such affection.
"My husband, my spouse, both have returned unto me. Husband, I pray thee, rest ere thou cleanse the abundance thou hast caught. Spouse, might I trouble thee for aid in gathering thy favorite vegetables and berries?” Her soft doved voice graced you and your husbands ears.
You turned to Eve the smile on your face still bright as you moved joining hands with her own, causing tingles to flutter in her heart.
"My dearest wife, I shall gladly aid thee. Thou shalt never trouble me with thy requests for assistance.” You told her so gently, filling her heart with warmth as your gaze soften on her ever so assuring her.
"Our spouse was meant to assist in cleaning the buck. Art thou unable to gather alone?" Adams gruffed voice spoke, causing Eve to look from your sweet gaze and into the intense one of your shared Husbands.
She pursed her lips as she stared at him.
"I believed thou hadst said none should depart our home without the other, my dearest husband. If indeed thou requirest our beloved spouse's help in cleaning the buck, wilt thou be aiding in gathering in their stead?” She spoke back towards Adam, There was a bite in her tone that you weremt the only one to catch as you glanced from your sweet wife to your husband, Watching how Adams eyes furrowed.
You could feel tension start to build and you moved between the both of them, towards Adam placing a hand against his bare chest making his instense eyes flicker from eve and down to you.
"We shall be swift, my dearest husband, and upon my return, I shall assist thee in cleaning the buck whilst Eve attends to washing the vegetables and berries.” You spoke softly to appease your husband and you turned to your head to look at Eve meeting her honey eyes.
"Once all is cleaned, I shall aid our dearest wife in cooking, and then may we sit together and enjoy a blessed meal beneath the starry heavens?” You continued on before looking back up into Adam's scorching sunlight eyes.
Hoping that this compromise will appease both your beloveds and prevent another bout of bicking between them.
You could feel the breathe that Adam inhaled through his chest as his gaze softened on you, a short nod was what he gave you before moving one of the spears he carried along woth the buck towards you.
"Fear not to wield thy blade if necessary to defend thyself and our wife.” He told you causing you to smile nroghtly at him and take the staff firmly in your hands. You turned to Eve taking her hand leading her back to the cave to gather baskets in both your hands as you left quickly.
"I wouldst gather some of the fruit thou lovest, my dearest Eve. Let us be swift and not leave Adam fretting over our return.” You told her with a teasing smile happy to see how it made her brighten the gardens with one of her own as she held your hand tightly with a nod of her head.
You assisted your wife up a tree to gather the small red fruits that she loved dearly. Watching her drop the little red and purple things down into the baskets beside your feet. Eve softly hummed as she gathered handfulls of the small fruits letting them fall from her palms to the baskets.
You smiled closing your eyes to enjoy the soft song your morning dove hummed out as she worked.
"Thou art most silent, my dearest spouse. Pray, am I boring thee?” Eve soon softly speaks her hand resting on top of your head and you softly shifted your hands under her thighs to hold her securely as you carefully moved your head back into her stomach to look up at her.
"Thou couldst never bore me, dearest. I was merely enchanted by thy humming; thou couldst make the birds jealous with thy songs.” You told your wife softly with adoration as you looked up at her, seeing how her honey eyes crinkled with the soft smile that grew on her plush lips.
"Thou art truly the sweetest, my dearest. If I may be so bold, I wish to inquire if my absence occupies thy thoughts. I yearn for our days spent together, for our selfish husband keeps thee away far too long.” She speaks, a shy tone taking her as she moves her fingers curling them in your haor softly.
You softly frowned and squeezed her thighs shoftly with your fingertips.
"I do not believe such is our husband's intention, my dearest wife. I had not realized thou wert feeling so neglected. I apologize for failing thee, my sweet Eve.” Your apologies leaving you as you felt your own chest tighten with remorse.
Had your hunts with Adam been taking so long that you hadnt even noticed? How have you not noticed the lack of you and Adams absence from Eve?
"Oh, my dearest spouse, thou art not failing me! I simply long to be in thy presence. It was too bold of me to upset thee. Pray, forgive me.” Your wife spoke quickly her face turning into suprise then mournful as she moved her hands with her words.
Your frown deeped as you carefully moved her from your shoulders and gently place her down to stand as you turned to face her, your hands on her shouoders as you looked into her honeyed eyes.
"Thou didst not upset me, my lovely wife. It is I who should ask for forgiveness. I had not known I was making thee feel that way. Allow me to prove that I will do better. Tomorrow, let us bathe together in the pond's waters and then venture to the meadows to gather berries to share.” You spoke to her softly, with genuine care of her feelings and needs. You brought a hand to her cheek softly carressing it shyly, As you were only now starting to get use to showing your beloves physical affection than just wordly.
You watched as her honey eyes brighten and her soft tanned hand cupping ober your own, nuzzling her cheek into your hand.
"I am blessed by the heavens to have such a caring spouse as thee, my love.” She whispered up at you with such soft affection, your face warmed hottly to her sweetness which caused the softest chimes of giggles from your Wife.
Returning back home with haste that you prmised your Husband, you and your wife was suprised at the sight of Adam not only had already skinned and cleaned the buck, but had already had it cut and pierced on rods above the fire.
"Thou... Thou hast cooked for us, my husband?” Eve softly asked as she came from.behind you and taken in the sight.
Adam looked up from the rod he was turning taking in Eve and You in his sights. You watched the bright color that blossom over his cheeks. How he quickly adverted his scourching gold eyes away from Eve and you shyly back to the fire.
"I...I had thought to try. Thou and y/n make it seem easy.” He speaks his voice in a low soft tone as if he was ashamed.
Before your wife could say anything you had eagerly moved to Adam placing a hand on his arm making his eyes look uo to you to see your smile.
"Thou art most thoughtful of us. Let us hasten and cleanse what we have gathered so that we all may finish cooking together.” You told him while still praising him you quickly got up and grabbed Eves hand leading your wife to the near by creek that ran by your caved home and eagerly and quickly washed the gathered food you both foraged.
"In my eyes hath I ne'er beheld him alter in his roles afore.” Eve spoke queitly beside you, you had turned and smile at her brightly.
"Our husband doth love us more than his anticipated duties, dearest.” You told her, believing it was true and so as ypu turned to wash the vegetables and cherries you both had gathered. You had missed as Eve brows knitted together as she watched you before glancing back at the fire seeing Adam turn the meat rods to prevent the meat from burning in question.
She had been with your husband much longer than you had, a few years at best and never once had he ever attempted to cook before, it was always woman's work.
"He doth alter his roles for thee.” She speaks before looking back at you, when you glanced at Eve you see an expression on her graceful face you never seen before, one you were not sure what it meant. Yet it caused a sense of dread form in your chest like you had felt when the snakes had tormented you so in the forrest a while ago. You quickly moved your hands to grab Eves wrist makimg your wife look at you with wide eyes.
"For us, he doth alter, my sweetest wife, dost thou not see? Adam doth adore us so, as thou hast said to me. He keeps his heart close, but once he extends it, his love is ever true. Behold him, Eve, my dearest, doth he not appear loving as he prepares our meal?” You speak to her in worry watching her face change from that expression to one of thought as she looked back at Adam. You didnt know why you held your breath while she did or why you felt so watched suddenly, why you felt like you were failing in doing something so important. Why were you so worried about her doubts in your shared husband?
Yet you let out a breath as she smiled softly her honey eyes forming a soft looked as she gazed at Adam before turning to you with her sweet smile and soft eyes.
"Forgive me, dearest spouse, indeed thou art right. Adam doth appear ever so loving, dost he not? Dost thou ponder if he shall cook for us more now that he hath tried?” Eve seemed quiet excited at the possibility and you felt yourself lossening up as a smile moved acrossed your lips as you took in your wifes excitment while glancing at your Husbands attentiveness to the searing meat.
"With words filled with kindness and pride, I believe our dear husband shall be more eager to join us in cooking, dearest.” You said confidently as you went back to washing the vegetables.
"Then let us be swift in our praise of him!” Eve said with excitement as she grabbed her basket of clean washed cherries and carried them back to Adam quickly. You watched as She sat beside him capturing his attention from the rods, Her hand moving to one of his arms as her lips moved surely to praise him. You watched with a smile as you saw color blossom deeply on your husband's cheeks as he abashly looked away from Eve, a smile forming on his lips as he brought his other hand to lay on top of Eves, before his scorching eyes swept over the clearance to land on you.
You took that as your que to hurry and bring the basket of washed Vegetables over and you so eagerly took your place on the other side of Adam and worked on positioning the vegetables on the stones that lined the fire.
"Thou shouldst have beheld how our love felled the beast, They moved so swiftly, swifter than the eye, and-” Adam went on excitedly Telling Eve about how successful your hunt had been. You listened happily to how She giggled and sometimes cheered.
Adam was very enthusiastic in retelling the events his hands moved as he tried to show her what happened.
"Our sweetest hath a good mentor to guide them.” Eve praised him, Her hands moving to his arm holding it with a look of adoration in her eyes, it was enough to make Adam pause as he got lost in the gaze of soft honey eyes.
It was these moments you had loved so much, When your Husband and Wife would look at each other with such Adoration and Love. It warmed you, especially when watching Adam bring a hand to Eves cheek and pressing his lips to her forehead ever so softly.
"Thou art too sweet, my sun,” He softly mummers to Eve.
"Am I thy sun?” Eve softly asked him, only getting a soft ‘mhm’ From Adam as he pressed his forehead with hers.
You smiled at them with adoration as you brought a fire roasted meat chunk to your lips to nibble on as you watched them.
Contentment filled you.
"And what is y/n to thee?” Eve questioned Adam as she pulled from him to gaze at you with her soft eyes. Adam opened his eyes turning his head to watch you nibble on your meat chunk.
Both of their golden eyes on you at the same time caused you to grow bashful as you felt your face warm up and quickly slipped the rest of your meat chunk into your mouth hiding your lips with a hand as you tried to chew quickly and averted your watchful gaze from them.
You heard Eves giggle and Adams chuckle which only made your face and ears grow hotter by the seconds as you quickly swallowed your food.
"They art mine echo.” He softly spoke causing you to raise your eyes once again at his words.
“"Mine echo?” You softly asked him, questioning your husband gently, wondering what he ever meant.
“mhm” Adam softly let out, Your husband never did explain, not evem if you pushed him with Eve. Adam would not crack only his eyes would crinkle and a smile formed on his lips.
Days and nights and paradise moved and everything seemed so well. Your loving wife and Husband were getting along, you spent time with both of them to make sure none felt forgotten or neglected.
So how did you not see it?
To you and Eves eagerness Adam had formed the habit to help you both cook, while not fully taking on tasks of washing dirty ingredients or chopping and peeling, He would be eager to skewer anything and to hold them by the fire to roast.
You liked to believe it was because your Husband liked to play eoth the fire with empty skewer sticks he had carved for you and Eve to use, likeing to burn the egde to where its smoking and whisp it around as he watched the meat roast above the flames.
It caused you and Eve to snicker and giggle as ypu both prepared the sides.
How did you not notice?
You and Eve would go to a new pond, as the one you had emerge from and attacked by had left you too nervouse to return without Adam companying you and her, So you both found a smaller pond by the Meadows of flowers your wife adored to lay in.
You both would spend hours laying together surrounded by flowers and the kost breathetaking flying instects under the warm sun glittering down on the both of your skin.
You and Eve would talk about anything on your minds which mostly was what your husband would catch to eat that day or what you should gather to ucompany the days meals. What you should go and do the next day together.
"I doth reckon we could persuade Adam to gather with us.” You spoke to Eve as you watched butterflies fly above you and her faces to flowers nearby. A snort from your wife caused you to grin and turn on your side to face her.
"I do, I do! If we bring him hither, our husband shall find ennui. He hath a disdain for idleness, sweetest. I wager he shall soon join us in our quest to banish boredom!” You tell her estatically watching her eyes crinkle up as she laughs for a few minutes at such thoughts of Adam begrudgingly plucking away at berries.
Even when there were signs of their presence?
Eve let out another soft giggle as she looked into your pretty eyes, her giggles falling short as she looked into them, her smile faltering only slightly.
"My dearest spouse... Dost thou ever ponder if there existeth more?” Eve softly asked you and you had tilted your head towards her.
“More?” You softly asked her. "What meanest thou, my sweetest?”
You watched as Eve knitted her eyebrows before she let out a soft noise before shrugging her shoulders.
"Verily, I am uncertain.” She softly mummers "Let us not vex ourselves with it.”
She had said before looking at you with her sweet smiles you adored.
How were you so blind?
You tried getting between them like you normally do, You tried to settle them both down, you did not know how this one started but it had started and like a wildfire it grew out of portion.
"THOU DOST NOT LOVE US LIKE THOU SAYEST! THOU NEVER EXPLAINEST WHY THOU ASKEST US TO DO SUCH THINGS, THOU NEVER EXPLAINEST TO US WHY THINGS MUST BE THE WAY THEY ARE!” Eve screamed at Adam, tears burned down her cheeks as she screamed at him, anger ablazed in her soft honey eyes making them look as if they were melting.
"IT IS THE WAY THINGS MUST BE! WHO ART THOU TO QUESTION SUCH MATTERS, EVE?! I AM THY HUSBAND; THOU ART TO TRUST IN ME TO PROTECT AND GUIDE THEE!” Adam shouted back, his brows furrowed as his eyes narrowed at her.
“Adam, Eve!” you tried to intervene between them once again, your words falling on unlistening ears.
"AND WHEREFORE ART THOU TO BE TRUSTED TO DO SUCH DEEDS?! WHO E'ER DECLARED SUCH A THING?!” Eve screamed back at him.
You had been too loyal to your beloveds, not at naive enough.
Adam was angry, his face redden deeply,
"WHEREFORE ART THOU THUS?! WHEREFORE DOTH IT MATTER SO MUCH TO THEE? THE ANGELS HATH DESIGNATED ME TO SUCH A TASK, WHY DOEST THOU DOUBT THEIR DECREE?!” He screamed at her, and you felt dread build in your stomach as you saw Eve back away from Adam, a look forming in her eyes one you knew because you had it when you once ran to find them.
You moved more infront of Eve placing your hands to press against Adams chest.
“Husband Please!” You started out listening to Adams ragged breathes, your husband was not im his right mind, you knew that. You knew that so dearly because when your world spinned around you for a moment and your arms stung from dirt n rocks, you knew something wasnt right.
This argument had some out wordly influence to it.
Your arms stung and shoulder ached, your head felt light and dizzy, You had heard a choked scream and gasp as you lifted yourself from the ground, your head throbbing as you brough a hand to it finding it wet. You brought your fingers down to find it stained with your own blood.
You had looked up at your wife and husband.
Taking in their looks of mortification and horrified nature.
“y/n..My echo, prithee forgive-” Adam sputtered as he tried to reach you only for you wife to step in front of you a spear in her hand as she pointed it towards your shared husband.
This wasnt ever supposed to happen, Why was it happening?! How did you allow this to happen?
"Hold thee back! Keep thy distance from them! Begone from us, Adam!” Eve shouted at him as she only rose the spears blade at him.
Your heart shattered athow you saw how mortified your husband looked as his pupils only shrank as he looked at You and then to Eve, his hands lifting up infront of him as he backed away slowly, how his chest lifted up and down as if air was being forced away and then back inside of him. His hands were trembling and you sputtered as you reached out.
"Hold... husband... Wife... I prithee.” You let out, the gardens still spinning around in your head as you reached out to nothing but air.
“LEAVE US NOW!” Eve screamed at him and you watched how Adam stumbled backwards his eyes landing on you, more so the busted wound on your head and your blood dripping down your face before falling on his trembling hands.
“I am sorry…I am sorry” You never heard Adam sound so broken, so terrified, you never wanted to hear him like that.
“Adam..” You cried out lightly weakly barely even audible as you watched your Husband flee, flee from your shared home, flee from your wife, flee from you and you felt as if you were dying.
A broken sob shaking you.
This was all wrong.
Eves hands found your face cupping your cheeks as she hushed you, whispering soothing things as she examined your head wound.
"I will protect thee, my dearest. I know of a place where we shall find safety from him. He shall never harm thee nor exert control over us again.” She told you so assuringly, yet her words had confused you so as ypu looked into her dull honey eyes…They never looked like that before, you moved a hand to one of hers as you looked into her eyes.
"What art thou speaking of? ...Nay, Adam did not intend to strike me... that was not his doing. Our husband would never... something... something compelled him.” You spoke as you shook in her hands, you were so positively sure.
Adam was not a violent soul.
Eves eyes had soften as she shook her head.
"Adam deceives us, concealing matters from us. Dearest, I am now enlightened... He is naught but cruel and seeks to dominate us. Thou shalt soon comprehend, for I can shield thee. My companions shall aid our flight from him; they shall reveal all, and then thou shalt perceive that our husband never truly loved us as he professed. We were bereft of choice.” She spoke to you making your head spinned more as ypu looked at her, the fire behind her played with the shadows on her.
Ypu mustve been seeing things because you swore to the high heavens you saw snakes slithering around your dear wifes body and neck.
You shook your head feeling pain blossom in it and you let out a gentle cry as you pushed your wife away from you.
"What hast thou wrought?” You questioned as you moved away from her, you could see the hurt form on your wifes face.
"Come with me, and I shall reveal all to thee. All thou requirest is one bite from the fruit of the forbidden tree.” Eve pleads with you, she reached out for you and you only moved away from your dearest wife.
dread filled you.
“I….I” You sputtered out as you forced yourself onto your dizzying feet you saw the pain and hurt on your beloved Eves face.
But the snakes around her did not leave, and you were too filled with dread and fear of them than you were of her.
"I must seek Adam.” You stammered before rushing away from your wife, stumbling through the forrest after your mortified husband went. Your heart ached and broke at the sounds of your wifes pained screams, screams begging you to come back, wails pleading that you will not hate her..
You couldnt, you didnt have such ability.
But only your husband could banish the snakes away, and you needed Adam.
chp 3
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reasonsforhope · 4 months ago
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— Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon dropped to its lowest level since March 2018, according to new data from the Brazilian government.
— Deforestation for the year to date is down 40% compared to 2023, with expectations for a significant annual decline when the “deforestation year” concludes on July 31.
— Despite declining deforestation in the Amazon, the region is experiencing a rise in forest fires due to a severe drought...
Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon continued to plummet in May [2024], reaching the lowest level since March 2018, according to new data from the alert system run by Brazil’s national space research institute, INPE.
According to INPE’s DETER system, deforestation in May 2024 amounted to 501 square kilometers (193 square miles), an area 147 times the size of New York City’s Central Park. This tally brings the accumulated deforestation detected by DETER over the past year to 4,350 square kilometers, down 54% from the same time last year.
For the year to date, DETER has detected 1,182 square kilometers of forest clearance, down 40% from the 1,986 square kilometers recorded at this point in 2023.
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[Note: January 2023 is when Lula da Silva was elected in Brazil. As you can see, after that, deforestation immediately plummeted. He is doing SO MUCH for the environment, we are SO lucky he beat Bolsonaro (the big pro-deforestation guy) for president of Brazil.
Also, in case the above chart makes you think we're doing worse than ever, that chart actually starts on a major low point for deforestation, toward the end of Lula da Silva's first term. Here's another chart that gives a longer-term picture, from 2002 to 2023. If we are lucky, Lula da Silva will bring the kind of drop in deforestation to us now that he did during his first term: an almost 80% drop in deforestation.]
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Pictured: Annual deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon since 2002 under each presidential administration, according to INPE’s PRODES system. Note: Temer took office on 31 Aug 2016 replacing Rousseff, while other presidents started their terms Jan 1. Also 2023 data is preliminary.
The decline in deforestation registered by DETER mirrors the trend recorded by an independent system maintained by Imazon, a Brazilian NGO. Imazon’s system is seen as a check against official data.
The alert data suggests observers should expect a sharp drop in deforestation for the 12 months ending July 31, the period Brazil uses for measuring annual deforestation. July 31 corresponds with the peak of the dry season across much of the Brazilian Amazon, when cloud cover is at a minimum, facilitating efforts to measure changes in forest cover.
For the annual assessment, Brazil uses higher resolution satellite imagery, which requires more time for analysis. In contrast, the shorter timeframe of DETER enables authorities to take action against illegal deforestation if there is interest in doing so. Data from DETER and PRODES, the annual system, have a strong correlation.
-via GoodGoodGood, July 2, 2024
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months ago
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I really liked the brennan x witch reader idea, can you also write with xaden? Where he saves the reader?
warning: blood, injuries, knifes, fun stuff.
Save you
They didn’t get mixed up in situations that didn’t involve them. Especially not when they were flying back from the Riorson house. Not after unloading the shipment. But it was the pained screeching that had Xaden glancing at Garrick who had simply nodded before reaching for his daggers.
The forest was thick and lushes down below, cutting out the view of what was happening. No chance of knowing what was truly waiting down there. Not worth it Sgaeyl muttered but Xaden was already jumping off her. Using the covers of the trees as he inched closer. The place had a strange form of pulsing around it. Vibrating. A glow eliminated the gaps between the branches. And then that same pained cry split the silence and Xaden felt his pace picking up. “Xaden”, Garrick called out, the last thing they needed was to break their cover. But the sound gutted him. He could feel the agony.
And then the clearance came into view. Garrick cursed from behind. This was the last thing on his mind. Not that he knew much of what he was seeing. A white circle. A humming of energy. A red thin thread of blood being dragged from the cuts made deep in your hands. Don’t you dare but Sgaeyl doesn’t get to finish before Xaden is running into an open field. His shadows trying to seep through the glow. Hitting against it with their full force.
That’s when your eyes meet his too. Tired. Xaden is not even sure how you’re standing. His hands come in touch with the glowing light but it shoves him away. Burning his skin. He hisses. “We need to break this, get her out of here”, Xaden shouts , looking over his shoulder. “How do you imagine we do that?”, Garrick huffs rounding the sacrifice stones.
But then Xaden catches your eyes, glancing at his dagger. He quickly pulls it out lifting it higher. Your eyes stay on it before dropping down to your hands. His gut drops for yet another time tonight. But he’s clenching his jaw, tightening, stepping back… “Xaden, what are you…”, Garrick barely lifts his hand before the blade flies through the air. Cutting through the bubble and sinking deep into your flesh. The scream that slips through your lips makes Xaden nearly turn around to vomit. But he’s stumbling forward, knees hitting the stone, as he presses his palm deeper into your flesh.
“I’m sorry”, he mutters, watching as your body twitches. Glassy eyes watching him. “Don’t pull it out”, Garrick cuts in, reaching out to wrap a strap of his leather around the dagger. Securing it in place. The bleeding. You would probably bleed out… “Come on we need to go. Get her to Colonel”, Garrick is already glancing at the sky. Xaden feels fuzzy. He doesn’t usually care. He’s seen worse shit. Worse torture. But there is something about you. The way your ashy skin and that drained gaze cut right through him. He scoops you up, mindful of your arm. Hissing at the feeling of your ice-cold skin pressing against his warmth. He catches you glancing at him. Lips trembling in anticipation of something that might slip past him. But then your body sags, head lulling back and a part of him ignites.
You’re not sure what parts of your mind were made up and what was actually real. There are muffled voices. Many. Then just a couple. Then just one. The place your body is placed in feels warm. Had they already brought you out for burning? That thought alone makes your body seize and whoever is there on the other side places a soft cold towel on your head. A hand runs up and down your upper arm. Fingers brushing away the hair from your face. A low shushing. You want to open your eyes. Want to see but the eyelids are too heavy. And darkness claims your body once more.
Xaden runs a hand over a slight stubble that he had let on. He’s been flying back and forth every day. “You can’t brood her into waking up”, Brennon’s voice fills the room, making Xaden snap his head to the side. They had found even more of your kind. Witches. Hunted and used. They had missed this. Missed that someone was using innocent people. “None of this is your fault”, Brennon says, even when both of their eyes fall to the bandaged hand, “You saved her with that and the wound will not scar. I will make sure of that���. He clasps Xaden’s shoulders right as a deep inhale fills the room. Xaden leaps out of his chair.
Your head falls back to the pillow but your eyes stay open, scanning the place. “Hey”, he breathes barely audibly, afraid to scare you even more. Your gaze only softens at the sight of him, your whole body easing. “You’re safe, no one will harm you here”, he continues, “I’m sorry for the knife”. But you shake your head. Silence falls.
“Yn”, you mutter, not dropping the gaze. It takes a moment for Xaden to realize that you have rasped out your name before he presses his palm to his chest, “Xaden”. You nod. He stares. He just stands there and stares because even now. Even all pale and weak you strike him as the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He quickly clears his throat, “I should go, let you rest. There will be people who will…”, “Stay”, you mutter back. A weak hand reaches out to him and his hand reaches back on its own. “If you can… stay”, you breathe out and Xaden finds himself nodding as he reaches for the chair, pulling it closer and taking your much smaller palm into his.
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starks-hero · 2 years ago
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Avert Your Eyes from Your Demise, Though Lovely It May Be
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x human!Reader
Summary: In which giant spiders aren't the only threat Mirkwood has to offer.
Word Count: 4.0k
Warnings: they're high on Mirkwood mist the whole time. Do with that what you will.
Translations: Siúlóirí portaigh - bog walkers (Irish) , amrâlimê - my love (Khuzdul) , lansel - love of all loves (Khuzdul)
a/n: I know movie Thorin is described as 5'2ish but I write him as 4'8 - 4'10 because it's more book accurate and because we should embrace this short king. Anyway, I call this 'the intimacy of going insane with your crush.'
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You couldn't shake the unease. Even now, as you sat at the edge of a clearance, bark biting harshly into your back, you could almost feel the forest closing in on you. Shadows scurried above you and the air itself was stale.
Your company of fifteen had quickly fallen to a number of just two, with only yourself and Thorin making it through the mist-clouded trails together. Neither of you were certain what had become of the others and given the eeriness of your surroundings, you didn't want to give it too much thought.
A sudden gust of wind rushed through the clearing and the limbs of the trees creaked inward. It was as if the forest was breathing.
“We have to find the others,” you said. Your voice sounded foreign and far off.
Thorin was pacing in front of you, twisting the hilt of his sword in his hand. “They would know well enough not to linger in these woods. We keep heading East.”
“Which way is East?”
“We follow the river.” You didn't miss the beat of uncertainty before Thorin's answer.
You shook your head. “We don't know where it leads.”
“It will lead us away from here which is good enough.”
Almost to emphasize Thorin's point, the surrounding trees creaked and groaned and another shadow scurried overhead. Caution steered your hand to the hilt of your sword and following Thorin's order, you moved on swiftly.
The forest felt too small and too large all at once. Branches knabbed and tore at your clothes and skin, the twisted limbs of rotting trees giving you no option but to duck or crawl beneath their roots. A glance skyward reminded you that this place, in all its foulness, was unending, the tree canopy stretching miles above your head and blackening out the sun's light.
That was if the sun was still up. You'd lost track of the time what seemed like hours ago.
You came to a sudden, harsh stop as your front rather unceremoniously met Thorin's back. With a quiet grunt, you found the reason for stopping was a tangled thicket of twisted branches that now stood before you. The tree, in all its obscure glory, seemed to consume the path entirely, its limbs too thick to cut and trunk too tall to climb. Too tired to think of a solution, you found yourself uncharacteristically willing to give up. Until Thorin shrugged off his furs.
You watched as the grey fabric rolled off his broadened shoulders and revealed his shirt, knotted pattern running up the arms.
“I'll go first,” he took the liberty of explaining as he bunched the furs together and placed them in his pack. “It will be easier for me to get out should I need to.”
You would have liked to argue but Thorin, a regularly stubborn fool, was surprisingly right. He was shorter, his limbs less likely to snag. His dwarven frame would move through the thicket much easier than your own.
He disappeared into the grove, swallowed by bark and darkness and you already found yourself questioning why you let him go alone.
You kicked at the dirt beneath your feet as you waited. Eyes set on the trees, you felt increasingly uneasy. You picked at the leather of your sword sheath. Thorin was a capable warrior and you didn't doubt his ability to defend himself. But something wasn't right, you could feel it, crawling on your skin and putting your hairs on end.
Giving in to impulsiveness, you followed after Thorin.
The branches clawed at your skin and snagged your clothes. You pushed aside what you could, rotting wood giving way easily beneath your palm, but as the many limbs began to swell into trunks, it became increasingly difficult to move. Your chest was pressed uncomfortably against the rough bark. You were never one to fear tight spaces but the sudden inability to take a deep breath came as an unwelcome shock. Just as panic had you reaching for your sword, relief found you in the form of the dwarrow prince.
With renewed determination, you mustered a final push and freed yourself from where you were wedged.
Thorin stood with his back to you, stance stiff. You called his name and he hushed you quickly.
His eyes were set on the tree line ahead of you. His gaze was hard, analytic and you didn't fail to notice how his fingers grazed the hilt of his weapon. He turned to you.
“Do you not hear it?”
“Hear what?”
As if the bugle of battle had been sounded, Thorin's stance shifted and in one swift, fluid movement, he drew his sword. His free hand guided you further behind him. Then, he shot forward, swinging his sword at an invisible target. His expression was one of determination as well as unmistakable fear. Another aimless swing and he turned to you.
“Can you not see it?!” He barked, frustrated at your unwillingness to help.
You raised your head and all but willed yourself to see anything but the winding trails of the forest. But despite how hard you employed your imagination, you saw nothing. Somewhere in the treeline, a bird took flight.
An uncomfortable recollection settled in the forefront of your mind. A shiver ran up your back.
"Thorin," Your hand cautiously fell against his shoulder. He turned to you with fire in his eyes but your expression made him pause. “Gandalf said a dark magic lay over this forest.”
At your words, his defensive stance melted away and defeat took its place. The elvish blade fell from where it was held at his side as he looked around and the fear in his eyes slowly shifted to confusion, then realisation.
“It's toying with our minds?”
You swallowed. The thought made your skin crawl; the idea of the forest as its own conscious entity was a horrifying one. That its magic could sink its claws into your mind and deprive you of your senses, keeping you walking in circles till your feet gave in. The entirety of Mirkwood was one giant spider's web and you hated to think what that made you and Thorin.
“We just need to keep our wits about us and our feet moving forward,” you managed eventually, casting weary glances towards the trees. "Now that we know what's happening we have the upper hand, we stay together, stay vigilant and keep our minds clear."
Thorin felt the sudden need to commend you for your calm demeanor and sudden leadership. But he'd also just attempted to fight a non-existent enemy so he decided saying anything at all was against his better judgment and settled for a curt nod instead.
Your plan fell apart comedically fast. You tried to remain optimistic but as you passed the same tree stump for what must have been the fourth time, you felt as though the forest was laughing at you. Your feet ached as though they'd been walking for days. You could hear each of your breaths echo as they came and the thud of your boots against the earth shook your bones.
The child-like laughter had started not short of an hour ago. Thorin couldn't seem to hear it.
When the rough terrain of rock and dirt softened into the cold, squelching mud of a bog, you both silently agreed that a break was needed. You sat at the end of the wetland, where the moss and reeds sprouted up between damp rocks. The water was gloomy, tinged grey and dark green with a sinister mist resting upon its surface.
The dreariness of the place seemed to seep into your bones.
Thorin sat an arm's length from you, hands braced against his knees as he looked out over the bog with a sullen stare.
“What do you see?” You asked.
“Fire." He said no more and you didn't pry.
In an attempt to ease the aches that had set deep in each of your muscles, you pulled your water canteen from where it hung against your pack. A cool drink of fresh water would be a small but welcome relief that you wouldn't take for granted.
But the liquid was thick and warm as it touched your lips and when you pulled it away it was coloured red. You tossed the canteen away with a grunt of disgust. It unceremoniously met the surface of the water before sinking into the mud.
“We need to leave this place,” you said, hands threading through your hair and pulling at the roots. Thorin didn't argue.
You walked until you felt the leather of your boots threatening to give way. You thought one of the trees you had passed seemed familiar, distinctive enough from the rest of the foliage that it stood out.
“We've been here before,” you said. “We're going round in circles.” You turned to on your heel and found no sign of the dwarf.
“Thorin?”
The eerie silence of the forest echoed back to you.
“Thorin?!”
The feeling of unease returned tenfolds. Shadows crawled above you and the wind quivered through the trees. The mist had worsened, hiding your feet beneath its thickening grey clouds.
But then, like a lifeline being tossed to a drowned sailor at sea, you heard your name. Far off and faint, but your name all the same. Spoken in a voice that flooded you with relief. Calling after him, you followed the resonating sound of his calls until they led you to the point where the water met the soil.
Logic quickly took a back seat as your desperation to find Thorin had you stepping off the path. You sunk immediately, the bog swallowing you up to your knees. You pushed through the thick, sluggish mud, ignoring the burn it caused in the back of your legs. The voice became clearer until his form finally appeared, carved out from the mist.
"Thorin," you greeted him with a smile. But Thorin's expression did not mirror your own. His brows were drawn together and every ounce of air vanished from your lungs when an unsteady hand reached out to cup your cheek.
“I was so worried." Your name fell brokenly from his lips. "I feared I'd lost you.” His hands, shaking and trembling, ran down your arms then back to the swell of your shoulders. His breathing was labored and you could only imagine what Thorin must have witnessed to put the usually stoic king in such a state.
“You're alright? You're not harmed?"
You shook your head and gently grasped Thorin's wrists and he smiled, softer and more sincere than you had ever seen him. The sight made you feel at ease for the first time since stepping foot in the forsaken forest.
"I am glad, Amrâlimê.”
You were not well versed in the culture of dwarves but you were no fool either. You had heard the word spoken among the dwarrow people you'd crossed paths with in the Blue Mountains, noticed the tenderness and sincerity that always encompassed the word, how it was never said with any amount of offhandedness. The word was a confession itself, a confession of the highest kind.
And Thorin had just spoken it to you. As if it were the simplest thing on Earth.
Your confusion must have been evident as Thorin smiled again, the corners of his eyes creasing in amusement.
“You must not look so surprised, my love,” his thumb grazed your jaw. “That I should wish to call you by such a name.”
“What–” You managed in a clumsy attempt to make it known to the dwarf in front of you that you had no idea what was going on. “Thorin.”
The king didn't answer. Rather he kept his eyes fixed on you, coarse fingers working their way from your jaw up to your temple, then brushing just beneath your eye. He touched you as if you were made of something more precious than all the metals held in the great halls of Erebor. And despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind, in that moment you would have been content to stay there.
In the bogs of a cursed forest with your friends lost and your mind bewitched, all so that the king would keep looking at you as he was now.
But your better judgment, (or more likely, the uncomfortable feeling of mud and bog water dampening your clothes,) brought you back to reality. You moved to speak again but Thorin stopped you.
“It's alright, we're safe here, you and I,” he promised. “You needn't think of anything else.”
You tried to ignore how believable his words sounded as you took a step back. Hurt flashed in the dwarf's eyes.
“No, no we need to find the others. The company–”
“–will find their own way,” he calmed you, hand reaching out again to touch your shoulder. It sent a jolt of warmth through you. “You carry so much, endlessly worrying for the well-being of others. But you needn't burden yourself any longer, lansel. You know what it is you desire, what you deserve. So take it.”
You closed your eyes at his words. His hand found the back of your neck and you allowed him to draw you in closer.
“Let it be just us. Stay with me, Amrâlimê. That's all I ask.”
You had never felt such temptation in all your years. Would it truly be so wrong of you? To allow yourself to have this after all you'd persevered. You had long given up trying to convince yourself that you felt something for the dwarven king. That his bravery, stoicism, and unbridled loyalty to his people didn't fascinate you. You had wanted Thorin since not long after the journey's beginning. And now he wanted you too. There was no reason to keep this from yourself, no reason you shouldn't have it.
But somewhere in the back of your mind, was the persistent reminder that something was wrong. A reminder that resurfaced in the form of Bombur's cooking and Bofur's songs and Balin's stories and Bilbo's immeasurable trust in you. Your friends were still lost and that proved enough to bring you back to rationality.
“Thorin,” you started sternly.
“Forget them,” he said, as if he already knew what you were going to say. “Forget everything else. It is just us now. All is as it should be.”
You felt a tinge of discomfort at his words and you took another step back. Thorin would never forsake his kin, not if he was in his right mind. He traced your cheek again and this time you grasped his arm in a strong enough hold to pull it away.
You caught sight of his hand out of the corner of your eye and what you saw made you feel ill. The skin was rotting, bones threatening to tear through their paper-thin bonds. The fabric of Thorin's clothes had vanished and your nails had sunk into the rotting flesh which had begun to fall way in your grip.
You yanked your hand back in disgust, tripping and falling backward into the water at the sight of the creature. A gaping hole sat in the center of its face where you imagined its nose should be and a rigid crack served as its mouth. Green threads of damp mossy hair sprouted from its head and hung in front of the hollow cavities of its eyes.
An Siúlóir Portaigh. A creature you hadn't crossed paths with since you'd last traveled East of Gondor.
A bony hand reached out for you and you shot yourself backward, scrambling to your feet. Thorin's deep voice had been replaced with a low rasping gurgle, the sound growing louder as the creature lunged for you.
You turned and ran.
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Thorin's voice had grown hoarse from calling your name.
He had turned away for one moment and you were gone and now as he searched, he feared to think what may have become of you.
His feet sunk into the ground beneath him, water reaching his ankles and soaking through his boots. Reeds sprouted up from the water, the smallest brushing his knees and the tallest towering a foot above his head. With a grunt, he pushed on.
The wind howled as it passed through the hollow chamber of the reeds and Thorin felt the hair on his neck stand up. Then, a shadow passed in front of him. He instinctively reached for his blade. It pushed through the long grass as it approached him but the glint of familiar armor has him dropping his sword.
“Thorin!” You beamed as you reached him. “You're alright. I lost sight of you in the fog.” You grabbed hold of his arms and Thorin was taken back by your sudden brashness. “I'm so glad I found you.”
He watched you for a moment, his joy at finding you unharmed outweighing the odd tinge of suspicion he felt. He cleared his throat and tilted his head forward in a curt nod.
“We must get back to the others.”
He turned to walk on but your arms held him in place.
“You needn't worry, they'll be alright,” you said casually. “As will we.”
Thorin offered a baffled look that doubled as a warning. He was uncertain what had caused your uncharacteristic forwardness and in all honesty, wasn't quite sure what to do about it.
You raised your head skyward and smiled again. With no shortage of confusion, Thorin followed your gaze
The sun had come back up and its light was seeping through the leaves above his head. The forest's canopy turned golden, as if set alight by dragon fire. Thorin's expression softened.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” Your hand found his own. “We could stay here, Thorin. You and I. Imagine it.”
Thorin blinked. He could stay here, with you. He could tell you everything he'd been longing to say since the escape from the goblin tunnels and the orc ambush on the cliffside. After all, why shouldn't he? Did he not deserve this after so many hardships? You could truly be together, you could offer him a new start, a new home– Thorin blinked again.
“And what of Erebor?”
You seemed amused by his question. You brushed his braid away from where it hung against his jaw and Thorin surprisingly let it happen.
“Erebor lies half a world away, a buried kingdom of dust and despair in the clutches of a dragon. Is it truly worth so much? Worth so many lives lost,” you asked. “We have everything we need here.”
And Thorin could only think about how right you were; your hands in his, the feel of your fingers brushing his hair, the rising sun and golden leaves– he could want for nothing else.
“Do you not want for this?”
“I–” he tried.
“You have done honorably by your people, Thorin, but you have been selfless for far too long.” He closed his eyes as you spoke. “Choose not what is right by them but by you. No more pain, no more fear.” He could feel your breath against his cheek. “Just us. Stay with me, my love.”
And Thorin decided in that moment that he would.
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Your legs ached and your lungs burned.
The bog was becoming harder and harder to navigate but you were yet to find Thorin and you did not plan on stopping till you were certain he was safe.
The water grew shallower and you took it as a blessing. With your lower half free of the mud, you drew your sword. You rounded the trunk of a decaying tree and were met with a horrific sight.
Thorin, with decaying hands grasped round his neck and a deformed maw nearing his face. Thorin stood in a trance, eyes glossed over and body stiff. The siúlóir's mouth widened, rotting skin tearing as it did. Its nails dug into the side of Thorin's neck, harsh enough to draw blood. Still, he didn't move.
You acted on impulse. With a quick lunge forward, you drove your sword through the creatures back, twisting it twice before pushing it deeper.
Its screech was inhumane. It grasped at its wounds, its guttural yowls putting your hairs on end. You ran it through again. The siúlóir went quiet and Thorin screamed out.
“No!” His voice was distraught, his hands grasping at the creature as it slumped to the ground. “No–!”
“Thorin!” You grabbed his shoulder and roughly yanked him back. He raised his head and looked at you as though he'd seen a ghost. “It's alright– it's alright, it's me.”
His gaze fell back to the creature at your feet and given the twist of horror and disgust in his expression you figured he was now seeing it in its true form.
“Siúlóirí portaigh,” you muttered under your breath. “Bog walkers.”
Thorin blinked before taking in his surroundings with frantic eyes. He regarded you with a cautionary look. He said your name and when you nodded, you saw his stance relax slightly. His fear turned to confusion. “What–”
“They were going to drown us,” you answered plainly. You nudged the creature's shoulder with your heel and watched it sink a few inches into the water. “We need to go, this place will be crawling with them.”
Thorin wanted to question how you knew so much about such monsters but given how desperately you wanted to leave their hunting ground, he prioritized.
He offered one last glance at the creature, body now mostly submerged in the sullen water. He shuddered at how well the creature had worn your face, how much its voice had mimicked your own. How easily fooled he'd been.
He silently followed after you.
You walked until the mud on your clothes had hardened and the silk webs coating the trees had all but vanished. The leaf canopy above you had thinned out and the surrounding forest was now warm with the sun's light. The moment you heard a nearby bird song, you knew the dangers of Mirkwood had passed.
Thorin rested against the trunk of a sapling. His gaze was focused on something over your shoulder but given the blankness of his stare, you knew he wasn't looking at anything at all. You took a seat at his side and began to tend to his wound.
A nasty gash ran from the back of his neck to just below his throat. You worked silently. Thorin didn't even seem to notice until you applied a fraction too much pressure and with a sharp intake of breath, he turned to you.
“Sorry.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Thorin spoke.
“What did you see?” he asked you. “That creature, it toyed with my mind, showed me things I longed for that I hadn't even admitted to myself. So what did it show you?”
“Nothing.” The lie came easy. “Nothing of worth. I've dealt with siúlóirí before, they feed you lies, draw you in and then drown you before you even realise you're in danger. Whatever you seen, I wouldn't linger on it.”
Thorin seemed almost saddened by your answer. But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, he gently brushed your hand away and got to his feet.
“We keep heading East.” The usual stoicism had returned to his voice. “Dwalin would know to do the same. If we do not regroup with the company in a day's time we head back the way we came and search.”
You nodded and got to your feet like a soldier following orders.
And as you fell into step beside the dwarf you thought maybe it would be best to take your own advice. To pass what you'd seen off as baseless lies not worth thinking about. But the feel of Thorin's shoulders brushing your arm reminded you that would be no easy task.
You entered Mirkwood wondering if what you felt for the dwarven king was more than just fondness. Now you were certain.
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quick authors note: I invented the siúlóirí an portaigh for this fic and the name translates to ‘bog walkers/walkers of the bog’ in Irish. It was pretty fun combining two of my interests, writing and folklore, to create my own mythological creature :)
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